‘You all right?’ Norton said, when they arrived outside a modern-looking building near the American Embassy. ‘You’ve hardly said a word.’

Sam nodded vaguely. ‘I was just thinking … how long has there been an Interpress office here in Tangier? Do you know?’

Norton chucked the end of his cigarette into the gutter. ‘I do, in fact. We’ve been here since nineteen twenty-one, venerable establishment that we are. They told me that at orientation last week. Don’t say I never listen.’

1921. Sam tried to keep the excitement from his voice, but it was no good. ‘Do you have archives, in there? You must, right?’

‘Of course, in the basement.’ Norton narrowed his eyes. ‘Why, what are you after?’

Sam felt as if his skin was fizzing. If something had happened at Dar Portuna back in July 1928, there was every chance it might have made the papers, especially in a town like Tangier.

‘I don’t know. I’ve been writing about the twenties, right? Nineteen twenty-eight. Is there any way I could look through your archives?’

‘They’re off-limits to civilians, staff members only, I’m afraid.’ Norton paused. ‘I mean, I could look for you, if it was for something specific.’

‘You could? Today? That would be—’

Norton cut him off with a snort. ‘Not today. I do actually have to work sometimes. It’d take me an age to trawl through a whole year’s worth of papers.’ Sam’s disappointment must have shown, because Norton sighed. ‘Look, if you could narrow it down to a particular week, it would be easier. And if I knew what to keep an eye out for …’

Sam was barely listening. His mind was flying back to his room at Madame Sarah’s, where he’d left the writing case and the strange, undelivered letter.

I am sorry.

‘What about a date? An exact date?’

Norton raised his eyebrows.

‘28th July 1928,’ Sam said quickly, the date escaping his lips before he could stop it. He felt as if he was spilling a secret, but he wasn’t, was he? He hadn’t really said anything.

‘I’m guessing you want me to look now,’ Norton said, ‘before you see your old man?’

Sam swallowed. ‘If you could. I’m due there at five.’

‘All right, I’ll do my best.’ Norton looked down at the suitcase. ‘Want to leave that here for a few hours, rather than dragging it around? I can ask them to keep it behind reception, if you like. Don’t want it getting nicked.’

Sam followed Norton through the glass doors, his mind jumping, trying to ignore a vague sense of guilt.

28th July. The date at the top of that desperate letter; perhaps the date when everything changed.

One day, I hope you’ll understand.

Corpse Reviver No. 1