Behm told him. Todd didn’t like it. He didn’t have a choice, though.

“You like whiskey,” said Behm.

“Yeah, why do you ask?” said Todd.

“It wasn’t a question,” said Behm, and got up from behind his desk. Todd noticed that he had a pronounced limp. L-I-M-P, pronounced limp, he thought to himself. Behm dragged a tatty hat from a coat stand and headed for the door.

“Come on,” he said, and Todd followed him out the door.

*  *  *

“See,” said Behm as they settled themselves in a leatherette booth in a local bar Todd had never noticed before, “I like to get to know my clients. Find out what’s behind the mask, so to speak.”

“I just want you to do some surveillance,” said Todd.

“I know you do,” said Behm. “Everybody does. They think I’m gonna hide across the street from some bastard’s house, take pictures with the car window down, and produce evidence.”

“That’s pretty much what I’m looking for,” said Todd. “What’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong with evidence?” said Behm, harshly. “Evidence is just—” He made a chopping gesture with his hand. “—just a slice of time. A knife through the air. Take this, for example,” he said, and pulled a crumpled snapshot from his wallet.

Todd, who knew a man with a hobbyhorse when he saw one, took the photograph by its edges and studied it.

“What do you think you’re looking at there?” said Behm.

“A man and a woman, naked, lying on a bed,” said Todd. “You collect these?”

“First off, don’t ever cheek me,” said Behm. “Second, I don’t collect anything except maybe headaches, one of which you are currently giving me. And third, you’re wrong. That’s not a man and a woman, it’s a woman and a boy. Not even a bed either, not that it matters. It’s a ditch full of snow. Looks a bit like a counterpane, I guess.”

Todd handed the photograph back.

“You’ve made your point,” he said, irritated. “Things are not always what they seem. Thank you for that insight.”

“I’m getting another headache,” said Behm. “Yeah, things are not what they seem. Things can be misinterpreted, manipulated, changed. A photograph, even a film, can be altered or just read wrong. More whiskey.”

When he’d worked out that the last part of Behm’s speech wasn’t connected to the first, Todd bought more whiskey.

*  *  *

“Your case is boring,” said Behm. “You were fucking someone so your wife wants out. So you want people to believe she’s fucking someone else.”

“She is fucking someone else,” Todd insisted.

“Sure,” said Behm. “Even if it’s true, it’s boring. And you still aren’t telling me something,”

Todd said nothing. He really had nowhere to start with that.