Their paths first crossed 15 years ago, when Smiler came round to McConnell’s place to use his scanner. “I didn’t even know he was a photographer,” McConnell says, but the two images he saw that day haunted him, so much so that, when he was considering projects for Sorika, there was never a question that Smiler wouldn’t be one of them. So McConnell went back to King’s Cross, to track him down. The man he found was fragile, struggling, as he closed in on 60. But McConnell’s commitment was unwavering. The result of that commitment is a book, an exhibition and a limited-edition set of images which, if not exactly making up for Smiler’s years in the wilderness, should at least let the world know who he was and what he did.