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mistakenly accepted for reality. It was going to be an infinitely long, infinitely painful task to set the consequences right.
    ‘Perhaps in the adjacent room, then,’ Mustapha said, ‘we shall find traces of her parents. Lead the way again, if you please.’
    There, in the master bedroom, two more skeletons, one sitting up in a twin bed, the other sprawled on the floor nearby, adherent to the ruin of an Icelandic pony rug. Among the shreds of dried ancient meat clinging to the ribs it could be seen that the latter’s breastbone and one shoulderblade had been shattered. Also, on the wall behind, there was a pit such as might be made by a deformed and tumbling bullet.
    Taking Hans’s arm in a light grip, not to be tightened – and his fingers were dreadfully strong! – except if his companion tried to shake it off, Mustapha demanded a description in vivid detail before crossing the threshold, and at once began to compile an explanation.
    ‘Ah, it comes clear. They were too casual with their skelter code, because in those days possession of a skelter was something to boast about. One midnight they were awakened by the arrival signal, and the intruder proved to be a thief – ’
    ‘Not a thief,’ Hans cut in, dully pleased at being able to make the contradiction. ‘A thief would have ransacked the house for money and valuables, left drawers and closets open everywhere. There’s no more disorder than you’d expect in a lived-in home with a child around.’
    ‘Someone who didn’t come here to steal, then,’ Mustapha accepted, unperturbed. ‘But who wanted his presence kept secret albeit at the cost of three lives. A spy or saboteur – even a whole gang of saboteurs.’
    ‘People playing skelter roulette?’ Hans offered, hoping for a second chance to edit his companion’s analysis.
    ‘No, it’s too recent a phenomenon. By the time that fad caught on they would have scrapped the notepaper with the code on it, perhaps if they were rich enough installeda privateer because it was about then that they started to come on the market. But I gathered that the skelter is an extremely old model?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Very well, I believe in my saboteurs. Memory reports some kind of industry at Umeå; it was a city of moderate importance, a convincing target.’
    He stood silent for a long moment, inhaling with nostrils flared, and then unexpectedly turned on his heel. Hans said, unconsciously rubbing the spot on his arm where those deceitfully gentle fingers had rested, ‘You’re leaving already?’
    ‘Yes. Thank you for your assistance. I have what I came for. I wish you success in garnering what you came for too.’
    ‘When – when shall I see you again?’
    ‘When I have something else to offer that’s just as good.’ With an enigmatic smile. ‘Which may not be soon, but then this site should occupy you for quite a while, no? So I shan’t hurry. Well, goodbye, and thanks again.’
    There was a question Hans always wanted to ask at this moment of separation: whether he was Mustapha’s sole customer for illegal codes. Now, once again, it tremored on his lips … but, once again, it remained unuttered. There was a faint wash of blue light from the skelter. He was alone.
    Almost at once other thoughts were chased from Hans’s mind by a surge of relief at being able to get ahead so quickly with his main task. The more he studied the house, the more convinced he became that, once restored to its pristine condition, it was going to be the star of his secret collection of words and pictures which – as Mustapha had reminded him – no one else must learn of until after his death.
    Then, they would bless his foresight and dedication to the cause of history. If news of what he was doing leaked out while he was still alive, though, he would undoubtedly be braced, no matter how high-minded his motives. There were few absolutes left on Earth. The right to conceal a private skelter code had to be among them.
    Well, now