‘All you need to do is run it. If there are any contacts, or anything UP-compatible, in there, then they should open right up.’

Saul did as instructed, and a bright blue bubble popped into existence, hovering just above the floor-safe door.

‘I see something.’ He was suddenly excited. ‘Looks like you were right on the money.’

He touched the bubble and it expanded into a three-dimensional image of a filing cabinet. The wall of the shed cut through one side of it, shattering any illusion of solidity.

Saul pushed the shed door back open and peered in the direction of the cabin. Gibbs must be wondering where he’d got to by now.

He touched one finger to a drawer marked ALL, and it took mere moments to copy the complete contents of whatever data device was hidden in the safe over to his own contacts. Once he’d disengaged, the filing cabinet abruptly vanished in a cloud of animated smoke.

‘Thanks,’ he said, as he exited the shed.

‘Did you get anything?’ she asked.

‘I copied some data across, but I can’t check it out just yet. I’ll let you know what I’ve got later.’

He walked back around the front of the cabin and almost ran into Sheriff Gibbs, who had evidently come outside looking for him.

‘Find anything useful?’ the sheriff asked.

Saul gave him a sheepish grin. ‘Not a damn thing.’

Gibbs squinted at him, then scanned the line of trees amongst which the tool shed was hidden. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to tell me just exactly what it is you’re looking for?’

‘If I already knew that,’ Saul replied, ‘I wouldn’t need to be here at all.’

Gibbs gave him a frank stare, his whole demeanour radiating suspicion. ‘Yeah,’ he replied, ‘I guess not.’

That evening Saul checked into a Lakeside motel with a fine view of the mountains. He closed the blinds with a single spoken command, before summoning up the same filing cabinet he’d discovered in the tool shed. Some of its drawers refused to open, so he guessed they had been provided with extra security to guard whatever they might contain. Other, more easily accessible drawers contained merely junk: copies of scientific papers and back issues of journals, along with the random bureaucratic detritus of a lifetime.

Saul sat down on the edge of his bed, unable to fight a sense of disappointment. It wasn’t hard to guess that if there was anything that might help him find Jeff, it was hidden in one of the restricted drawers. He called Olivia and explained the problem.

‘Maybe you could forward the files to me?’ she eventually suggested.

Having sent them over, and now feeling obliged to wait for her to get back to him, he pulled on his shoes, thinking maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to try and walk off some of his pent-up frustration.