Oh, get on with it, Alfred thought impatiently as he watched the man leisurely read over his single sheet of paper. What was he trying to do, memorize it before he started asking questions? How complicated could it possibly be? Had this man never in his life held a conversation before? It occurred to him that this might have been some sort of tactic. An attempt to make him nervous before the questions started, perhaps? If he had been sitting in an interrogation room in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, it might have worked. As it was, he was just annoyed. He had other places to be — two of them in the Ministry, and one of them a hundred miles away out to sea — but sure, Unspeakable bloke, just take your damn time reviewing your notes. No rush.

The question annoyed him, too, because he was fairly certain he'd already answered it when he'd turned the thing in in the first place. It wasn't his fault if no one had thought to write down the details at the time — and it was quite rude, he thought, for them to have delayed his trip a month (and counting) because they apparently weren't very good at keeping notes. And here he'd thought paperwork was the only thing they were good at.

"Forty miles south of Brighton, by my reckoning. Just past the Greenwich Meridian," Alfred said, providing as much accuracy as possible even though a term like Greenwich Meridian might not mean much to someone who hadn't been using astronomy as a navigation system for the better part of their adult life. "That was when we found it. Could've been onboard a week before that, at most. Two days at least. It was another day and a half before we offloaded it and got it to you all."