[Intro — gentle acoustic guitar, piano, gradually building bass] A name in an old directory, a circle on a map, a dead man's hidden history, and a trail that might lead back. F. Sutherland, a name from long ago, somewhere on the edge of Glasgow, there's a door I need to know. [Verse 1 — The Search] Old phone books on the table, dust upon the page, a hundred names and numbers from another age. I narrowed down the search to the outskirts of the town, where a curator with a secret might have moved his treasures round. A fence would need to be nearby, a man who knew the trade, someone who could shift the goods and never leave a trace. Then I searched for younger Sutherlands, a son who might still stay somewhere near his father's home, not too many miles away. [Pre-Chorus] And there it was, a name that caught my eye, just a few miles from the old house, worth a visit, worth a try. [Chorus — full band, adventurous] Follow the trail, follow the name, every little answer adds another link to the chain. One door closes, another opens wide, I've got a head full of questions and curiosity on my side. From a wallet on a wall to a road I've never known, I'm heading to the east end looking for a man called Frank. [Instrumental — bright electric guitar, organ] [Verse 2 — The Man in Tweeds] I gathered up my papers, put the folder in my bag, ready for the mission with a few loose ends to tag. Then a voice came from behind me, so familiar, so refined, "Sir, I believe you'll require this for the investigation you've designed." I turned and saw a gentleman in tweeds from head to toe, an envelope held out towards me, his expression all businesslike. "Good luck," he said, and turned away, disappearing down the hall. Was he the man behind the intercom? The posh voice said it all. [Bridge — playful piano] No introduction, no explanation, just another little Northwood complication. A butler? A member? A keeper of the keys? I'd find out when I got back, if they'd answer that one, please. [Verse 3 — The Envelope] I sat inside my old Ford Focus, parked beside the rest, took the envelope from my pocket, wondering what came next. A folded letter, cream-coloured paper, and something shining gold. An American Express card, with my name embossed in bold. "For expenses," said the letter, "please remember every receipt. Our resources may be generous, but our pockets aren't that deep. Keep the card secure, report it if it's gone. Welcome to Northwood House, and may your investigation carry on." [Spoken — music drops] "Well... At least they're paying for the petrol." [Verse 4 — The Warning] I put the card inside my wallet, then remembered something more, a little black envelope I'd found beneath my door. I unfolded the old parchment, read the words again, Don't trust them. Three words from an unknown friend. I looked towards the house, its windows shining bright, then turned the key and started east into the fading light. [Chorus — darker variation] Follow the trail, follow the name, every little answer adds another link to the chain. But who's behind the curtain? And who's controlling the game? I've got a golden ticket, and a warning just the same. [Instrumental — extended driving section, pulsing bass, Hammond organ, melodic guitar]
