‘Doesn’t stint himself, does he?’ murmured Gary, noticing that Mr Tan had spent £4,400 on two pairs of handmade loafers.

‘So he’s not just doing it for his country then?’ asked Sarah.

‘I should think that’s the last thing he’s doing it for. I think Mr Tan’s main concern is Mr Tan–and family.’

‘Large one is it?’

‘Three sons and a daughter. The way he’s bringing them up I should think they’ll have high expectations in later life.’

‘Not if he’s spending it all on shoes,’ remarked Sarah. ‘Mind you, I could have got a dozen pairs of Jimmy Choo’s for what he’s spent on a couple of pairs of loafers.’

Gary looked up. ‘You’ve seen this?’

‘Of course.’ Sarah looked impassive.

‘Notice any patterns? Anything odd.’

‘Only one thing.’

She was giving little away. Gary pressed her further. ‘And?’

‘I’m wondering about Mr Tan’s health. Do we know if he’s fit and well?’

‘I think he is. He’s in his forties, smokes like a chimney, but they all seem to out there. I think he’s as healthy as your average Chinese male city dweller who has a capacity to overindulge. Why do you ask?’

Sarah came over to Gary’s desk and leaned over his shoulder. He could feel her warmth. Smell her scent. Her closeness affected his heart rate. He concentrated hard on the papers.

She pointed to several entries over a period of a few days. ‘Look at these. Harley Street. But two different addresses.’

‘Odd. Do we know who he was seeing?’

‘No. There are several consultancies in each building but Harley Street being Harley Street–and a model of discretion–we couldn’t tell who he saw when he was inside the building. Each one houses anything up to half a dozen specialists.’

‘Could have been getting a second opinion.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Sarah. ‘I’d thought of that.’

‘Otherwise what?’

Sarah shrugged. ‘No idea. Unless he’s flogging them cheap drugs.’

‘It’s quite possible,’ said Gary. ‘But what’s his source? We’ve no record of him visiting anywhere else that could supply them, have we?’

‘No. But they could easily be knocked off.’

‘Do we have records? Of stolen drugs? Serial numbers and suchlike.’

‘We do. I’ve got the guys checking it out.’

Gary closed the file and got up from his desk. ‘There’s something there. Something I’m not seeing.’

‘If it’s any consolation I can’t see it either,’ admitted Sarah. ‘I’ve thought of everything–drugs, money laundering, protection rackets. I just can’t make the connection as yet.’

‘We need more time to work this out.’

‘Well that much is obvious,’ she said.

Gary paused, walked to the window, surveyed the view across the river and then turned to her. ‘And how are you doing?’

‘Me?’

‘Yes. You know. After your…local difficulties.’