Henry Arrow was helped into the interview room. He looked to be in his mid to late fifties with light greying at the edge of his brown hair. When he had been brought in, he had a full beard, but he had asked to be shaved. His face was a road map of stress and a hard life. His body language screamed abuse or perhaps even torture. He kept his arms close to his chest, eyes cast down, and unwilling to make eye contact. He was in good shape and I thought the harsh climate of the Antarctic was responsible for that.

"Henry?" I began my voice soft and nonthreatening....