Tristan got up and put his book and notes in a drawer the moment he heard the door open. He made his way to the waiting room. "Mr. Crane," he greeted. Then he looked at the older man. A fisherman, judging from his clothes and hat and the smell of fish that accompanied him. He held the door open and gestured at two chairs. "Please do come into the office if you can. Have a seat there. What's the problem?" The fisherman did look like he had seen a ghost.