‘This is you,’ Mathers said.
Bradshaw took a seat at one of the computer terminals. Poe wandered over to the window and pulled a blind aside. Nice view. He could see the British Library.
Mathers said, ‘I’ll get you set up with accounts so you can access the data portals—’
‘I’m already in,’ Bradshaw said.
‘Of course you are. OK, I’ll get Poe and DCI Flynn set up with accounts—’
Bradshaw held up her left index finger while her right danced across the keyboard faster than the eye could see. ‘They’rein now as well, Commander Mathers,’ she said. ‘DCI Flynn’s password is her son’s date of birth and Poe’s is PASSWORD – all uppercase – as it’s the only one he can remember.’
Poe wandered over to a trestle table pushed against a wall. He opened one of the boxes. It was full of doughnuts. ‘Are these anyone’s?’
‘They’re yesterday’s, but help yourself,’ Mathers said.
Poe did. He bit into one then wiped raspberry jam from his chin.
Bradshaw said, ‘Would it be possible to get rid of all this junk food, Commander Mathers? Poe eats like a racoon and I’ve just promised Estelle Doyle that I would make sure he eats five pieces of fruit a day.’
‘Jamisfruit,’ Poe said. ‘And when did you speak to Estelle?’
‘I texted her on the way over,’ Bradshaw said. ‘They’re getting married, Commander Mathers. The wedding rehearsal is in two days. I’m Poe’s best man! I’m writing a speech and everything. Poe’s very excited about that.’
‘No, I’m not. Stop saying that.’
‘Unfortunately, he has hypertension.’
‘I have hypertension because I have PTSD and I don’t sleep, Tilly. Cutting out the occasional biscuit won’t change that.’
‘Oh,puh-lease! Your diet is the worst I’ve seen, Poe. Ever since we’ve known each other you haven’t eaten a single healthy thing, not unless someone buys it for you. Even then they have to stand in front of you while you eat it. A high-fibre, low-salt, low-fat diet won’t kill you, but hypertension might.’ She turned back to the computer. ‘At the very least you’ll end up with faecal impaction. And you won’t like how they treat that, mister. No, sir, you won’t like that at all. It involves a rectal bulb syringe and what they do is—’
‘Will youpleasestop talking to Estelle about my diet?’ Poe took a breath, saw Mathers and Flynn grinning. He reddened. ‘And there’s nothing wrong with my bowels.’
‘Well, all I know is that I wouldn’t want to go in the toilet after you,’ Bradshaw said.
‘Oh, wouldn’t you? Well, answer me this, smarty-pants: whowouldyou like to go into the toilet after?’
Bradshaw paused. Turned back round. ‘You make an interesting point,’ she said.
Mathers snorted. She said, ‘I’ve missed working with you guys.’
Poe said, ‘I want to go back to my boat.’
Chapter 10
After Mathers had left, taking the snacks with her, they got down to business.
Flynn said, ‘Tilly and I have been briefed, but you’re coming into this cold, Poe. Where do you want to start?’
‘I only know what’s been in the press, so elevator pitch me,’ he replied. ‘There are two hundred good detectives out there, so the basics are covered. Thedetailsare covered. We’re not a case review team; that spindly prick Locke wants us to think of something no one else has.’
‘OK,’ Flynn said. ‘There have been seventeen murders so far and, as far as we can tell, he’s only used seventeen bullets. He hasn’t missed, he hasn’t needed more than one shot.’
‘What calibre is he using?’
‘A .50 BMG.’
Poe whistled. ‘That’ll do it. That bullet’s heavy enough to go through an engine block,’ he said. ‘Not an easy round to get hold of in the UK, though.’
