One or two of the letters were addressed to an M. Heinemann, though these were battered and one of them had an angry screed written on them in spidery script about how the old guy had moved, so why did they keep delivering his letters to her address? She'd told them again and again that he'd gone and it escaped her why they couldn't just --

"Well, I say," said a mustachioed, red-headed man with a camera about his neck. He was dressed in what looked like safari clothes, with a pair of binoculars around his neck. "Ghosts! After all this time searching, and the end up on my front doorstep! So to speak. Ha ha!"

He had a rather large, gleaming pair of teeth that did not look entirely real.