He looked down from the mezzanine. The polished wooden floor and the designer sofas were carefully arranged so visitors could see their host come down the glass staircase to escort them into the building. The receptionists were on the case placing the artisan coffee mugs with their organic brew on the reclaimed wooden table; the tablet screens, as smooth as the polished railway sleepers in which they were embedded. The visitors scrolled aimlessly barely noticing the celebratory article, the agency’s latest success. Something wasn’t right, he thought. Something was missing. He took his notebook out and flicked through the pages.