The frontage of the Castlewood condominium was eighty metres long, standing back from the other buildings along the street, and screened with a discreet row of tall Caucasian elms.

The entrance was below ground level, served by a private loop of road with card-activated barriers at each end.

Greg parked a hundred metres further down the street and showed his card to the meter, punching in for six hours.

"Six hours?" a voice queried. "I wish I had an expense account like that."

Greg turned, and smiled. "Victor. You're looking good."

Victor Tyo's baby-faced good looks smiled back. "Riding high, thanks to you. I was promoted up to captain after our Zanthus excursion, got assigned to the command division down by the estuary. I guess Walshaw must approve of me."

"You're my contact today?"

"Yes. Again. I was at the office when the call came in." He tipped a nod at the Castlewood. "We've had it under observation for twenty-five minutes now."

"We?"

"The rest of my squad. They're covering all possible exits. We wouldn't want our man to filter out without us knowing. I've already checked with the concierge, Ellis is at home right now. A human concierge, by the way, this place is definitely for premier-rankers. I couldn't afford to rent the broom cupboard in there."

Walshaw hadn't actually mentioned anything about a squad, but Greg could appreciate his reasoning. Ellis wasn't the end of the line, but he was near. His confidence rose a fraction. Backup wouldn't come amiss, not if they were as on-the-ball as young Victor.

"Will this be a long operation?" he was asking. "Some of the observation positions are improvised, temporary."

"It shouldn't take more than an hour, two at the outside."

"Fine, Did you fall down some stairs?"

Greg's hand went to the stiff white mould over his nose. "Not exactly. A run-in with a friend of Mr. Ellis."

"I see. Do you want a weapon before we go in?"

"Are you carrying?"

"Yes. A Lucas laser pistol."

"That ought to be enough. You keep it." Greg began to walk towards the Castlewood's nearest barrier.

"Fine." Victor showed a card to the gate beside the barrier. "Concierge's pass," he explained.

Greg lifted an appreciative eyebrow. And only a twenty-minute head start. Morgan Walshaw ought to start worrying for his job. "Will it open the apartment doors as well?"

Victor did his best not to appear smug. "Of course."

The Castlewood was built in a U-shape. The two wings had a conservatory-style glass roof slung between them, curving down to form a transparent wall at the open end. The glass was tinted amber, cooling the sunlight which shone down on a bowling green, tennis courts, an Olympic-sized swimming pool, and a separate diving pool. Four tiers of balconies made a giant amphitheatre of the enclosure. Their long strips of silvered sliding doors staring down on the athletically inclined with blank impersonality.