“Cyril Avery,” I said when I lifted the receiver. “Oh good,” said a voice. A female voice. “I was hoping I had the right number.” I frowned. “Who’s this?” I asked. “It’s the voice of your conscience. You and I need to have a little talk. You’ve been a very bad boy, haven’t you?” I said nothing but pulled the receiver away from my ear for a moment and stared at it in bewilderment before slowly bringing it back. “Who is this?” I repeated. “It’s me, silly.
