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To the complete stranger, Mr Box was an unassuming man. He was of average height and medium build with a face most would struggle to remember. His hair was short, neat and dark. His skin neither pale nor tanned. And his demeanour efficient and quiet. Only a one-inch crescent scar above his right eye marked him out. Yet over the years, even that required a closer look. And Mr Box rarely afforded anyone the opportunity.
Mr Box wore his usual combination of dark, close-fitting suit, white shirt and black tie. He stood and watched a large row of yellow baggage lockers, operated by credit card. More specifically, he watched the man with blonde hair in front of them. The man was six-feet-two inches tall. Broad-shouldered. Dressed in a red and black check shirt
Mr Box detected an injury fro
