“He stinks,” Wildsmith said. “But even so, it’s worth looking at the why and the wherefore, isn’t it? Otherwise you’re saying They’re a bad lot because they make bad choices, and they make those choices because they’re a bad lot. Whereas I think it’s more useful for me to say, oh, This person is writing with contempt, or They don’t seem to believe they’re doing anything wrong, or This feels like they’re telling lies. That way, perhaps my client can understand more about what’s going on, based on their own knowledge of the person and situation. Perhaps you might even work out how to change things—how to appeal to the better parts of their nature, or to understand what motivates them and offer something else.”

“You think so?”

“Well, it’s possible. I had a client who was having awful trouble with his employer, a very highly regarded professional man. He was a brute and a bully on my client’s word, but his hand reeked of fear. He felt deep down he wasn’t good enough, and he took it out on his staff. So I told my client to praise him. He said, Don’t be absurd, I’m a junior, my praise would mean nothing to such an important man, but all I could see was someone desperate to hear he was doing well. I said, just try it. He did, and the chap’s now eating out of his hand.”

Aaron frowned. “That sounds very like pandering to a man who ought to behave better.”

“Yes, he ought to, but he wasn’t,” Wildsmith said. “And you might prefer to be screamed at daily rather than lower yourself to grease the wheels, but my client just wanted to go to work. What he needed from me was a way to do that, not a condemnation of his employer’s character. Do you see?”

Aaron saw quite a few things, one of which was that Wildsmith was very good at what he did, which was nothing to do with handwriting. He clearly understood people, and particularly the two most potent human desires of them all: to be found interesting, and to gossip about others.

“What about this chap?” he asked, and held out the third paper. Wildsmith took it, and started to read.

The difference was dramatic. Within a few moments his shoulders rose and hunched like a cat’s, and his jaw and neck tensed visibly as he read. His mouth worked silently, and then he said, “No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No. Absolutely not. Don’t hire him, don’t let him marry your sister, none of it.”

“Why not?”

“Christ, can you not read?” Wildsmith demanded, and then, immediately, “Sorry. Sorry. It’s—look, forget what I said just now, I’m making a judgement. This man is bad to the bone.”

Aaron sat very still. “Why?”