This is one of Francis Clifford's irreducible manhunts handled with a deadly determination and compression few can match. All over England there have been precision bombings, apparently achieved by some form of remote control handset, always prefaced by a phone call (""This is Touchbottom""). Duncan Howard, who takes his assignments almost too seriously at the expense of his own contamination, assumes this case singlehandedly after two of his associates have been killed; isolates his suspected conduit as an overseas representative who's been using his trailer to import the weapons; and makes the confrontation which costs more than it's worth. Clifford has always added a small moral coda to his stories of violence without diminishing their authority. He will be missed.