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"If anything else occurs to you, or you have further contact with Miss Fordun, then please contact me," Duncrub said. "How do I do that?" I asked, with genuine curiosity, "Since your organisation doesn't exist. No entries in the phone book, I'm sure." Duncrub gave a mirthless laugh, then pulled out something from his pockets. He must have nearly as much stuff in there as I keep in mine. I took the object from his hand. It was a business card, a rectangle of cardboard of the usual dimensions, and a masterpiece of minimalism. Blank white on one side; the other a glossy black with a phone number - and nothing else at all - printed in gold letters in the centre. I tossed it casually on the desk, where Campsie inspected it with interest. "Okay," I said, "I'll give you a call if anything comes up." "Please do," Duncrub said, standing up, "I'll show myself out." Campsie and I just watched him until the office door clicked behind him. After Agent Duncrub had left, there was a sudden release of tension in the office. "Phew," Campsie exhaled, "Wow, he was pretty scary." I shrugged, although I had to agree with her. Then she turned to face me, looking me up and down with newly appraising eyes. "A bit like you really." Later on, while Campsie was otherwise engaged, I would pay a visit to another kind of agency. Based on the information that Broxden supplied, I managed to get an interview with Fordun's Theatrical Agent. This revealed nothing of particular interest, other than the singular fact that Fordun had elected to take a role at the Stalactite Saloon, against the impresario's advice, even though much more prestigious - and well-paid – engagements elsewhere had been offered to her.
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Part 35