“Nice timing, ma’am,” he said before she got a word in. “We’re almost ready for liftoff.”
“I’ve been driving round this godforsaken village for the past hour,” she said. “Your directions were useless. Is your phone switched off?”
It was. He dug deep for an excuse. “Were you trying to reach me? I didn’t want to cause a problem for the drone pilots, messing up their signals. Is yours turned off?”
Georgina looked ready to implode. Good thing she was as ignorant of the technology as Diamond was. She took her phone from her pocket and switched it off. “I doubt if it makes a jot of difference.”
“Drones are like dormice, sensitive creatures,” he said with no authority whatsoever.
She returned to the attack. “It was no thanks to you I saw the cars at the side of the road and recognised yours.”
“The unwashed one. But you haven’t missed a thing. Naomi and Noah are still setting up. Do you want to meet them?”
Somehow, he’d succeeded in deflecting the worst of the onslaught.
The next ten minutes were passed in what Noah insisted on calling the cockpit, the space in front of a screen protected by a sunshield — although there was little sun today. The brother and sister went to a lot of trouble to explain how the drone could work in a variety of conditions and how simple it was to operate. Georgina mellowed and made approving murmurs. Introducing drone technology to Avon and Somerset would look splendid on her CV.
Finally, the object of all this attention took to the air with a vertical take-off and hovered twenty feet above them.
“That’s you,” Georgina said to Diamond.
“What?”
Unlike him, she was looking at his on-screen image on the tablet Naomi had put in front of them. “A bird’s eye view you never thought you’d see. Doff your hat to the future of policing, Peter.”
He didn’t want his baldness brought to stark attention, so he kept his trilby on and showed two fingers to the future instead, and watched himself on the screen.
Georgina was handed the remote control.
“Try it,” Naomi said. “It’s child’s play.”
Georgina bridled at the way the invitation was phrased, but allowed herself to be shown the basics, working the two sticks on the transmitter to achieve changes in movement using gyro stabilisation. Naomi spoke about roll, pitch, yaw and throttle as if they were as familiar as bread and butter. The drone responded well.
“Can I send it down the field and back?”
“Farther, if you like.”
Naomi showed how it was done and the flying machine headed off at speed.
“How do I stop it hitting the trees?” Georgina said in some alarm.
“Don’t worry. It has its own collision avoidance system. Sensors detect any obstacles and adjust the movement.”
“Clever. Let’s bring it back. Are you following this, Peter?”
“You bet I am.” He was enjoying the interplay of pride and panic on Georgina’s face as she played with the new toy.
Naomi said, “Watch the screen, Mr. Diamond.”
“Isn’t he paying attention?” Georgina said, still working the sticks. “Careful, Peter. I may be handing the controls to you.”
“I wouldn’t, if I were you, ma’am. You’re coping brilliantly. I’m sure to crash it.”
Naomi said, “It’s smarter than either of you. It won’t allow that to happen.” For someone promoting a product, she wasn’t doing well. Without intending to, she had this unfortunate knack of belittling her potential customers.
But Diamond didn’t complain. Machines in general got the better of him, most recently an electric toothbrush Paloma had suggested he should try. With no electric socket in the bathroom for the charging stand, he had plugged it into the nearest one outside the door, low down near the skirting board. On the second morning, he’d forgotten it was there, stepped on it and snapped the brush into two pieces.
“If you’d been watching the screen as I said,” Naomi told him, “you’d have seen the lady with the dog who was here earlier.”
He was fully alert now. “In the field? I can’t see her.”
“The eye in the sky did. The ground dips quite steeply. She’s definitely coming this way.” She took the remote back from Georgina, put the drone into reverse and restored first Hartley to the screen and then Paloma, who looked up and raised her arm. It wasn’t clear whether she was waving or flapping her hand in protest.
“Magic,” Diamond said. “Can you do some more sweeps of the whole field? Let’s suppose you were searching for a, em—” He stopped himself saying the word on his lips. “—lost child.”
“No problem.”
The drone travelled across the field and back again several times.
This time Diamond followed the progress on screen and saw nothing but grass and clumps of weeds. Duller than watching CCTV footage.
“I don’t want to do this indefinitely,” Naomi said. “We’ll soon run out of power.”
“I don’t need any more convincing,” Georgina said. “If you’re willing to work with the police, we can discuss the arrangements.”
Naomi looked relieved. She brought the drone back and allowed it to hover above them. Then she slowly cut back the throttle and let it descend. The landing was perfect.
“Nicely done,” Georgina said. “I couldn’t manage anything as complex as that.”
“Nonsense. It’s simple, and you work the transmitter like a professional.”
“How kind.” Georgina basked in the praise. “But when we ask for your help, you’ll be here to work the controls yourselves, I hope?”
“That goes without saying. This little beauty is our livelihood.”
“One thing, ma’am,” Diamond said to Georgina. “When you sign up to this, be sure to include the model aircraft in the deal.”
“The fixed wing UAV,” Naomi corrected him.
He didn’t argue. He’d sighted Paloma’s head and shoulders coming up the slope. In seconds she was fully visible and so was Hartley.
He stared at her and felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck.
She was carrying something red.
He left the others and started running towards her.
Hartley barked.
“Is this what you were looking for?” Paloma asked when he got near enough.
“What is it?”
“Hartley found it,” Paloma said. “I had to fight him off to stop it being chewed to shreds.”
She handed him a red T-shirt with the British Heart Foundation logo and a race number fixed to it with safety pins.
17
“Can you remember her number?” Paloma asked Diamond.
“I don’t need to,” he said, all fingers and thumbs trying to unfix the safety pins. “I know what’s behind this.”
On the backs of their race numbers, all competitors were required to enter their names, addresses and the contact details for next of kin to be notified in an emergency. Anyone with an existing medical condition such as epilepsy, diabetes or heart problems was required to mark the front with a large black cross using a felt-tip pen.
Paloma suddenly said, “Hartley, no!”
Concentrating on what he was doing, Diamond had allowed the shirt to dangle too close to the small dog. It had sunk its teeth into the cotton and was trying to drag it away. There was a ripping sound.
“No, damn you,” Diamond shouted, clinging on. “Get off.”
“He’s tearing it apart,” Paloma said.
She grabbed Hartley and picked him up. Keith Halliwell had joined them and, between them all, they managed to prise the strong jaws apart and rescue what was left of the shirt.