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But that wasn't an option she had been programmed for.

She turned back into the entrance hall and banged her shin against Ada's secretaire.

'And up you too!' said Ellie Pascoe.

xii

By early afternoon, even with the help of a small pump to keep the water level down, Wield's team hadn't recovered as many bones from the crater as would make a good stock. These were dispatched to Longbottom who reacted like a ravenous panther offered a harvest mouse.

His complaints were heard elsewhere because about 1.30, Wield had a rendezvous with Death.

This was the sobriquet of Arnold Gentry, Head of the Police Forensic Laboratory. Rumour had it that he had been excavated along with the Dead Sea Scrolls, and he was certainly one of the few men to make Troll Longbottom look healthy.

He acknowledged Wield's greeting with a minuscule nod, brooded on the edge of the pit for a while, then said, 'Sluice it.'

'Eh?' said Wield.

'From what Mr Longbottom says, I gather there has been considerable dispersion of the remains, probably both through natural causes and as a result of the use of mechanical and explosive devices in the clearance of the area earlier this year. This means the precise disposition of the bones is unlikely to be central to your investigation. Therefore it makes sense to load say fifty or sixty cubic metres of earth onto a truck and deliver them to my lab where I will arrange to have them sluiced, thus isolating any bones or other evidential material. This will save you a great deal of time and the state a great deal of money.'

'You'd best talk to Mr Headingley, sir,' said Wield seeing the DI approaching. 'OK if I go off to lunch now, sir?'

'Aye, why not,' said Headingley with postprandial expansiveness.

Wield moved quickly away. Dr Death's suggestion seemed a good one, but he wasn't going to let George Headingley get his feelings on record. Over the years he'd shown a growing reluctance to take responsibility though none to taking credit. That was what had kept him a superior unlike Peter Pascoe who'd become a mate.

As he reached the drive, a strangulated cry made him glance back.

Gentry had been supporting his proposition by pointing to the fluid condition of the sides of the crater which made any search by manual means both slow and perilous. Headingley, in his efforts to show an alert interest while postponing decision, had ventured too near the edge and suddenly found himself proving Dr Death's

thesis. As Wield watched, the ungainly inspector slid slowly like a ship down a launch ramp into the water- filled crater.

For a moment Wield was tempted to return and supervise the rescue operation. But only for a moment. God's gifts should be savoured in tranquillity, and besides there were plenty of strong young constables in thigh-length waders to pluck old George from the depths. He turned and continued up the drive.

At the top, he headed down the side of the house and into the old tradesmen's entrance, now leading directly into the TecSec quarters which consisted of an office, a sitting room with a couple of Z-beds, a washroom and a kitchen.

Wield peered through the office door. Patten was sitting at his desk, typing on a computer. On one wall a range of TV screens showed scenes from various parts of the grounds and building. Very hi-tech, thought Wield. Must be costing ALBA a bomb.

'OK if I clean up?' he said.

'Surprised you bother to ask. Don't all get your manners from that fat fucker, then?'

'No. Get mine from Sainsbury's. Where do you get yours from?'

The security man looked abashed.

'Sorry. Of course you can. Should be a clean towel in the cupboard.'

When he came back, he found Patten on the phone.

He said, 'That's right. Roll 'em up, all three. You got

it.'

Then replacing the receiver he said to Wield, 'I've just made a brew. Fancy a cup?'

'That 'ud be nice. No sugar.'

'Keep healthy, eh? I've seen you down the Leisure, haven't I? Kung fu, wasn't it?'

'I try to keep in shape.'

'Working with yon tub of lard must give you a real incentive.'

'Nowt wrong with being big so long as you can punch your weight,' said Wield mildly.

'And he can?' said Patten sceptically.

'He's wired a few jawbones in his time,' said Wield. 'You army?'

'That's right. You been checking up?' said Patten with a return to his earlier aggression.

'No. Private security folk are usually ex-cops or ex-forces, and you're not ex-cop.'

'How do you know that?'

Wield shrugged and said, 'Way you don't stick your pinkie out when you drink your tea.'

'What? Oh, I see. A joke.' He sounded surprised.

Here's another thinks I shouldn't make jokes, and he doesn't even know me! thought Wield.

He said, 'What mob?'

'York Fusiliers. I busted my leg on an exercise, mended fine but they were rationalizing, that means dumping bodies. Offered me a medical discharge. I offered them a fifty-mile yomp across the moors, my pension against their jobs. No takers.'

It was clearly a bitter memory.

'So you've ended up deskbound,' said Wield with provocative sympathy.

'Yeah. Well, not all the time, and at least I'm doing something useful.'

'Guarding this place is useful?'

'It's important work they do and they've a right to do it in peace.'

'You reckon? Bit of overkill that mess out there, isn't it?'

'You reckon?' mimicked Patten. 'Listen, back last summer they had one watchman and locks you could fart open. Those mad buggers just walked in, smashed the place up and helped themselves to everything, including the watchman's so-called guard dog. So we got called in. I took one look and said, first thing you want here is a fire zone. That's a piece of ground in clear view where if anything moves, you shoot it. No need to go too far. Nearer the house the better, as that keeps the circle nice and small and cuts down cost. Also it leaves enough of the outer woodland untouched to keep things from the road looking much the same as they've always done. Now if they come, they've got to cross the open. We've got lights and cameras, and there's an alarmed security fence it'll take more than a pair of ordinary wire cutters to get through. Installation's expensive, I agree. But once it's done they're secure forever, and that's worth more than money to a firm like ALBA.'

'I can see that,' said Wield pleasantly. 'When they were clearing the wood, did the contractors say anything about hitting an old wall or something like that? Seem to be a lot of granite slabs lying around out there.'

'Not to me.'

'What about Dr Batty?'

'Couldn't say. But if they did, I'm pretty damn sure he'd have said carry on regardless. Old stones can mean a lot of bearded wonders slapping a preservation order on you if you're not careful.'

He gave Wield a conspiratorial all-mates-together grin which sat uneasily on his scarred and watchful face.

Wield said, 'I'll need to talk with your men who were on duty when they brought those women in last night, especially those as chased them round the offices.'

'Why's that?' said Patten, matiness gone.

'In case ALBA fancy bringing charges. Trespass is no good as far as the house goes, as technically they were invited in, so they'd need to go for criminal damage, assault even. So we'll need statements.'

'Save you the bother,' said Patten delving into his desk. 'We got our system too. Full reports on any incident. Here, take a look, all signed and sealed.'

He handed a thin file across. Wield looked inside. The reports were all there, full of necessary detail of time, place, duration.

'Everything in order?' said Patten. 'Jimmy Howard keeps us straight on rules of evidence. Useful having an ex-cop around.'