When the 'please call' reply zoomed into my in-box, I was off like a shot. He who dares wins, I said to myself, in a bad impression of Del Boy.

"Please do come in," said Andrew Hesketh, corporate services manager .. well that's what it said on the door.

Funny, I'd expected a Dickensian joint full of dusty books and punters in tweed jackets. How wrong can you be.

Hesketh sported a goatie beard, two earrings and an unidentifiable piece of shrapnel in his hooter. I shook his hand.

"I have to say this is not what I was expecting," I said.

"Yeah, it's a long way from the High Street to on-line sales," he grinned. "The military book market seems to be growing for us worldwide. This little industrial unit is ideal for our purposes of storage and distribution."

"I didn't think there'd be a great deal of money in it?" I commented.

Hesketh assured me that Morgan's Books now had sub-divisions covering other academic publications in various fields of study.

"But old Tom loved his military history, and it still forms a core part of our business to this day. Anyway, you wanted to ask a few questions about him?"

" ... so after the war, he went back to teaching," continued Hesketh. "He came into some money and decided he'd rather have a go at working for himself and thus the firm began and here we are today!"

I decided to take a gamble: "Maybe he got fed up with working for the officers during the war?"

Hesketh looked at me more seriously now.

"How on earth did you find that out? It's not in any of our publicity material, in fact it's not widely known by anyone except me," he replied.

It was time to gain his confidence: "I came across Tom's name in a letter from the front. Part of my research into a Pals Battalion during the war ..."

Hesketh positively glowed. I knew I had him hooked. Let's face it, it doesn't take long for one Great War buff to spot another.

"Very good, very good. That would be the 7th Muddies of course," he gushed. "You doing a book yourself?"

I slipped the letter from Andy Hollinger on the counter. Hesketh was delighted to see Tom's name mentioned.

"I may be able to help you," he said, stretching for the filing cabinet behind him.

"These are some of Tom's old papers. There are a few things in there from the war but there are a few pages in some form of code, like an old shorthand, which we haven't taken the time to get translated. The only word I can recognise is a name ... Hartley .. yes, there it is ..."

When he told me I could photocopy the coded letters, I was most pleased with myself. In fact, I was so chuffed I bought £50 worth of books from their reception area.

I was back on the fact trail again. I could put the conjecture to one side.