It shocked me very much. In a way it frightened me, because I wondered what kind of man this was, who could insinuate to a woman that being her friend was supporting her and that eating a few meals together, sharing a drink and parting with a kiss was passion. But that was all I was afraid of. If I thought about it, I supposed Liv or Wim or Niall had found the letter on top of the wastebin, suspected it had been thrown away in error, rescued it and put it on my desk. And opened it first? I didn’t like that but there was nothing I could do about it then, so I went off to the Houghtons’ before Silver was awake.

Judy developed the photographs herself. She showed them to us that evening. No one could have identified Andrew and Alison as their true selves from those pictures. Somehow, very cleverly, while taking shots which were plainly the kind acceptable to immigration officials, that is full-faced, looking straight into the camera, she had made them look subtly different due to the angle of their heads, Andrew’s hair and mustache, and Alison’s makeup. But Jason looked like himself. This was the boy of the newspaper prints. Not just any handsome Asian or part-Asian child but entirely himself, unmistakable to any observant person who had taken minimal interest in the case.

He was good-looking, but not with the rather dull good looks that show themselves in classical features. His upper lip was short, his mouth full and tilted upward at the corners. In spite of the undoubted trials of his short life, he seemed always on the brink of a smile. His eyes were large, bright, and steady, not shifting away or furtive but always fixed on whomsoever he was listening to. These things couldn’t be disguised. If his skin in the photo looked paler than in reality, there remained plenty in his face that could never have had its origins in Europe. He was the Indian youth in the wall painting. Except that it sounds too fanciful, I’d say he was Krishna dancing with the milkmaids. “Shall I take another shot of him?” Judy asked.

Silver said he didn’t think it would matter as when the escape began Jason would be with him, they’d be traveling first and alone together. He looked at me, perhaps waiting for more inquiries as to where the cost of it was coming from. I say “perhaps” because, sadly, I could no longer intuit what Silver was thinking, just as he could no longer guess my thoughts.