‘You were also correct about Ianne, at least in some particulars. I find myself impressed that you were able to locate any information on her at all, so long after the events. My shock at what happened led me to destroy whatever I could find. Perhaps I was not acting in my right mind, then. Looking back at it now, I do not fully understand why I did it. It may be, as you suggested, that it was a way of coping with my grief. I wonder, though, whether I was simply ashamed to have failed. It was my task to keep her safe. That was why I built my company, and suffered for it – to hand something on to her. After she was gone, that was pointless. Everything was pointless. I had no reason to carry on, except to generate ever more obscene quantities of slate. I was no longer Udmil Ramenev. I was something else.’

He listened with interest. She had never spoken to him like that before. He doubted that she had spoken to many other people like that.

‘You told me that she deserved more. I think you were right. So you may be interested to learn that I have revived the family name. Jazc will continue under its current brand, but Udmil Ramenev will be its master. Mordach is welcome to keep the dregs of his old empire for the time being, though I intend to be ruthless with him. I intend to be ruthless with all my competitors. But no cell-work, now or ever.’

So that was something.

‘Two final things, probator. You told me you had a daughter. I do not know how old she is, nor what she wishes to do with her life. My advice to you is to let her go, when she is strong enough. I tried to keep Ianne close, to limit her exposure to danger, and that was my mistake. When she finally escaped, as she had to, she was too naive for this city. That was what killed her. I shall never cease to regret it, right up until the day I die.’

It was almost as if she knew.

‘And the second, final thing. None of this happened. We never met. We shall never meet again. If any of this conversation ever becomes publicly known, I shall kill you myself. Do not let our last encounter fool you – when I have to hit, I never miss.’

The feed cut out. No final salutation, no expression of famili­arity – just the bald threat.

‘Nice to know you too, Udmil,’ Zidarov murmured to himself, watching as the dataslug started to melt in on itself. ‘It was an experience.’

Zidarov reached out, his eyes half-open. The thick coverlet slipped down his forearm a little, and he walked with his fingers, searching.