Kharkev pursed his lips. ‘There was one. A while ago. Not sure I’d know her name. Seemed all right to me. I don’t think they were lovers. I’m not sure why he kept her around – she wasn’t like the others, all plastek and rouge. Plain, like. But they seemed to get on. Maybe that was why. She might have been from the missionaria. Trying to save his soul, maybe. Something like… Erina. Eruna. Sorry, not much help.’

‘That’s plenty of help.’ Zidarov sat back in his seat, wanting to stretch out, to yawn widely. He blinked, and dropped a tab of fifty slates into Kharkev’s dataveil node. ‘For your trouble,’ he said. ‘If you think of anything else, you can find me.’

Kharkev nodded in appreciation. ‘Look, I don’t know if I should say this… But, see, I worked with them for a while. We were just the sauce, so to speak. The public bodyguards, more or less for show. I don’t think I ever had to pull a gun out in ten months. The Terashovas had some serious people working for them in-house. Dangerous people. If Adeard has found trouble, which I can believe, I reckon they might find it easier to handle it themselves.’

Zidarov drained the rest of his drink. ‘The thought had occurred to me. Thanks for talking. I’ll see what I can do with the name.’

Then it was more work on the datafiles, more fruitless attempts to make connections. The broadcast images sent out to the sanctioners on patrol had uncovered nothing, just as anticipated. The city got on with its business, somehow managing to cope in the absence of Adeard Terashova. Nothing turned up in the public bulletins on the information channels, which didn’t surprise him. It was as if he’d never existed. Those who’d known him didn’t care. Those who hadn’t had no idea he was gone.

Zidarov linked to the analysers at the Bastion’s dataveil node, and had the connection request routed to Alexi Cuo, the little man who ferreted away in the archive and the municipal records and who owed him a favour or two.

‘Zido!’ came the wheedling voice into his iris’ receptors. ‘Thought Castellan had put a hit on you or something. Where are you?’

‘Out and about. How busy are you?’

‘I can barely find the time to sleep.’

‘I need one little thing. Staff records at the missionaria stations in the Vostoka and Havduk districts. I’m looking for an individual. Erina or Eruna, maybe.’

‘So which is it?’

‘You tell me. It might be something else. Female, young, some possible link to the Terashova family. Soon as you can.’

Cuo laughed. ‘So what have you done, then? Why’s Vongella got her blades out for you?’

He didn’t feel like discussing it. ‘Thanks a lot. Vox me when you get something.’