Geraint began leafing through his massive collection of brochures. "I have a feeling he’s down as a teleconferencer: not attending seminars, just watching from his hotel room. It’s what the paranoids do if they don’t want a legion of trolls with automatic weapons around them every second of the day. But think it’s just possible that at some stage he might want a face-to-face with someone over a few drinks. Let me check this out and get back to you. Give me—no, not a couple of hours. Meet me here for lunch."