It was just past noon. If there had been any patients that morning they were gone, leaving no indicators of their presence. Inside the office door a tall, balding man in a white medical coat was standing behind a scarred wooden desk, next to an old-style black telephone. Several file cabinets filled the space behind the desk. One of the cabinet drawers was open. The man was next to the drawer, holding a pile of well-worn manila folders. He looked up from the folders as Condley and Muir entered his office, his parched gray eyes peering at them over the top of a pair of reading glasses that were halfway down his nose.

Condley stepped toward him. “Doctor McHenry?”

“Junior,” he said, his voice brick-dry. “My father died five years ago.” He paused, evidently remembering the sign outside. “Never got around to changing the sign. It doesn’t matter. He was retired before that, actually. People here know who I am.”

“I’m Brandon Condley. This is Professor Hanson Muir.”

“Not hard to figure that out.” McHenry gestured toward a second pile of folders on his desk. “I’ve been looking all morning and I can’t find a thing.” He caught Muir’s exasperation. “I warned you when we spoke on the phone, Professor. The man left here thirty years ago.”

“Nothing?” said Muir.

“Nothing at all. We’re not exactly the government, you know. Keeping archives on dead people isn’t what we get paid to do. I’m a digger and a filler and an extractor. If you want braces, go to Perth. Not that anyone around here worries about crooked teeth.”

Muir frowned, frustrated and weary. Condley stood next to him, deciding to fill the awkward silence. “Do you remember treating him?”

“I remember my father treating him,” said McHenry, softening a bit. “I wasn’t through dental school yet. But I knew him. He was quite a bit younger than I. Totally wild, even by western Australian standards. And of course I remember when he disappeared. It was big news around here. The whole thing killed his mother.”

“His dad?”

“Drank himself to death. It would’ve happened anyway. Mathew’s antics might have hurried it along a bit, that’s all.” McHenry raised his eyebrows, anticipating the next question. “Nobody else. No brothers or sisters. God only knows where his parents were before they drifted here. Or maybe they even met here, I don’t know. We don’t ask about things like that. If people tell us, then fine.”

Condley and Muir stared quietly at each other, their minds working furiously. Muir tapped the folders he was carrying, as if for inspiration. “Do you know Doctor Kenneth T. Hasler?”