"Sit. Down." Henry said, his voice as cold as ice. "Please."
Sir Hector did so.
"Now, where was I? Oh yes, modern phones. You could leave one on a desk, or a bookcase, and it could record all sorts of things."
"What do you mean?" For the first time, Sir Hector was suddenly a little apprehensive. His mood had turned sour. His ebullience had faded. This whole meeting wasn't turning out to be anywhere near as enjoyable or satisfying as he thought it would be.
"Well," Henry said, as he opened a drawer in his desk and took out a manila folder. "You have to be so careful these days about what you do, and where you do it, and who you do it with."
He opened the folder and pulled out a dozen or so glossy photos. They were in colour and crystal clear. Henry lay them out on the desk. They depict
