‘He’s not here?’

‘We are busy people, probator. If you wish to speak to him too, that can be arranged.’

‘But he’s as concerned about this as you?’

‘Very. It is wholly out of character.’

Zidarov nodded. ‘So. Can you think of any reason why your son might have gone missing?’

The thin lips barely twitched. ‘A few. He is a young man. He has money. He does not always spend it wisely, nor do I always approve of the company he keeps. At his age, the city seems like an exciting place to explore, less a cesspit to be avoided.’

He looked up briefly. ‘A cesspit.’

‘For men like my son, that can have its attractions. Dangerous ones. Maturity cures one of that, but he is not mature.’

Zidarov tried to gauge how much of this iciness was contrived. It was impossible to tell. ‘He had responsibilities in the firm?’

‘A few. He was learning the trade.’

‘Maybe he had made enemies. Your rivals. People who might want him out of the way.’

‘No doubt. That was my first thought, when his silence became worrying.’

‘Anything specific? Any threats? Ransom demands?’

‘I would have told you. No. Nothing.’

‘Any names? People you might suspect?’

The first smile – a ripple along tight lips, barely creasing the skin around it. ‘I could give you a hundred names. Most will not be news to you. We have been successful, my family, and that generates jealousy.’

Zidarov put the slate down on his knee. ‘Look, I’ll be honest with you, Mzl Terashova. To have someone disappear for two days… we’d wait for a week before beginning to investigate something like this. And, in your case, you’ve resources of your own. You’ve more resources than we do. This is not something I can get involved in. Not yet.’

Her eyebrow rose. ‘Oh.’

‘He’s of legal maturity. He’s under no obligation to keep in touch with you. Perhaps he needs some time to himself. Perhaps his biolocator has malfunctioned. These are all possibilities.’

‘Some time to himself,’ she repeated.

‘I can open a file. Pass it to the analysers, and if he doesn’t turn up in–’

‘Married, probator?’

‘Yes, I am.’

‘And a hab. And a private car, and some slate-arrangements between yourself and those you shepherd. Very nice. Comfortable.’

Zidarov sighed. ‘Like you. I get by.’

She leaned forward, just a little, her spine remaining ramrod straight. ‘You will look into this,’ she said, softly. ‘You will drop whatever else you are working on, and concentrate on this.’

‘Is that a threat, Mzl?’

‘A statement of reality. You and I both know how this city works.’

They both did. Some things were worth fighting. Other battles were futile.

‘So, then, you’re really worried,’ he said.