It's a Sin by Steve Burford

Author:Steve Burford [Burford, Steve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: NineStar Press
Published: 2016-04-10T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

“Morning. You look bad.”

“That’s, ‘Morning, you look bad, ma’am.’ Although I prefer, ‘Good morning, ma’am. How do you manage to look so fresh after only three hours’ sleep in a night spent dealing with your youngest son’s nightmares?” Claire slumped down behind her desk.

“My version has more punch,” said Dave. “Here, I’ve brewed up already.”

“Thanks. God that smells good, what is it?”

“Don’t ask me. Richard gets it. Don’t know what it’s called, I just know it’s better than the rotgut you were percolating here before.”

Claire sipped gratefully on the mug he had handed her. “You should have tasted the foul brew Rudge used to have on the go before I arrived. And talking of arriving, what time did you get in?”

“A while ago,” Dave said diplomatically. “Now, are you ready for the good news or the bad news?”

Claire closed her eyes. “Start me off with the good news.”

“Ah. Wrong answer. Strictly speaking, there is no good news. The first piece of bad news, however, is that all of Jonathan’s equipment has been thoroughly wiped of prints. None of his, none of anyone else’s. A very thorough job.”

Claire grimaced. “No surprises there at least. And what’s the less bad news? Or is it less good?”

“Well, it is certainly more interesting. The recordings recovered were mostly of friends and family. Or maybe that should be acquaintances and family. It’s just as we’ve heard: Jonathan filmed anything and everything, whether people were ready for him or not. You can tell it didn’t please everybody. It would have driven me up the bloody wall. There were gaps in the recordings, though. Not necessarily unusual given the pretty tame stuff around them, but the lab techs are going to see if they can recover anything, though they’re not holding out much hope. However―” he paused slightly for dramatic effect, but Claire forgave him because of the coffee. “It’s the mobile phone that was interesting.”

Claire perked up. “I didn’t know there was a phone in with the cameras. Call record?”

“No. He hardly used it for that at all. What calls were logged were to Sean’s phone. No, it was the pictures on it, which, if you think about it, was always going to be more important for someone like Jonathan.”

“Yeah, but you’re hardly going to get the quality of picture on a mobile that you could get on some of Jonathan’s expensive stuff, are you? So what was the point?”

“Ah, but sometimes the medium is the message, isn’t it? Yes, well,” Dave admitted quickly, in the face of Claire’s baffled and unimpressed expression, “I’ve been skimming one of Jonathan’s media studies text books. Anyway, the point is these.” He handed across a sheaf of papers. “Recognise anyone?”

Claire flicked through the photocopied enlargements. “Phil. And Mikey.”

“Plus one or two of our other new friends from The Old Navigator, yes. All in the act of being whopped round the face by a mysterious figure in a hoodie. Your classic happy slapping.”

“So it was that, at first, and Jonathan Wilson and Sean Flanagan were doing it.

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