Reception was pretty good, on the whole. Cadel’s bug seemed to be working. Even so, during the first half-hour of its operation, nothing much had been gleaned from the snatches of dialogue overheard outside Jerry’s office – except that his assistant’s dog was suffering from some kind of bowel complaint. ‘Yeah?’ said Cadel, answering his own phone. ‘Who is it?’ ‘Saul Greeniaus,’ came the clipped reply. ‘Have you got a minute? ’ Cadel rose from his seat, and moved to a deserted corner of the basement. ‘Yeah, sure,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a minute. What’s up?’ ‘You’ll be pleased to know that Gazo Kovacs was very cooperative,’ Saul announced. ‘Oh. Good.’ (Cadel refrained from saying ‘I told you so.’) ‘The trouble is, he wants to see more of you. And I don’t think that would be wise, Cadel.’ ‘Why not?’ ‘Because he’s gone and got himself involved with GenoME.’ As Cadel swallowed, and glanced over to where Trader was sitting, Saul pressed for a response.
