The Clock’s Ticking

‘Where’s Strachan?’ the inspector demanded.

‘No idea.’ George Duffy garbled the words as he swallowed the last of his morning piece.

‘Didn’t catch that?’ Chisolm threw him a hard look.

‘I’ve made repeated attempts to contact her,’ Douglas Dunn piped up. ‘But she’s failed to respond.’

‘She’s likely still at the hospital, sir.’ Brian Burnett tried to deflect Chisolm’s ire.

‘Well, I need her present,’ Chisolm insisted. ‘This is important. And time is of the essence, as you’re all aware.’

‘I’m sure she’ll be along any minute,’ Brian added, still acting peacemaker. He was rewarded with a foul look.

‘Any news on Struthers?’ Duffy moved to make the peace. ‘Did we manage to blow holes in his loan application story?’

Chisolm sat down. ‘Sadly, not. We have corroboration from the godson. However, there has been some progress.’ He waved a folder. ‘It transpires that Dunn, here,’ he cocked his head towards Douglas, ‘has some talent, after all.’

There were titters around the table.

‘Talent he’s been hiding from us. When all the time we thought he was a useless twat.’

Douglas looked down at his shoes.

‘Don’t be coy, Constable.’ Chisolm was enjoying his bit of fun.

Theatrically, he waved an arm. ‘DC Dunn, you have the floor.’

‘Well, I…’ Douglas began. He drew breath. ‘Before it went back, I had a shufti at Gordon Struthers’ computer.’

‘Christ!’ Dave Wood exclaimed. ‘Get you!’

‘Quite,’ Chisolm concurred, his face a mask.

‘I’ve uncovered evidence,’ Douglas said, holding the floor, ‘that Gordon Struthers used a search engine to identify date rape drugs.’

Wood craned his neck. ‘Is that right?’

Douglas smirked. ‘Struthers has been using his search engine to check out drugs. Untraceable drugs, namely Rohypnol and GHB.’

Bingo! George Duffy raised a fist.

‘Not quite. As Inspector Chisolm pointed out,’ he looked to his senior officer for approbation. ‘A search isn’t proof.’

‘Too right.’ Wood again. ‘And how can you prove it was Struthers? Could have been any bugger running that search.’

‘Conceded.’ Douglas came back. ‘However…’ He let the word hang in the air.

Arse-licker! Wood scowled. If Douglas had cracked the Struthers case, there would be no living with him.

‘I knew we needed more: a firm order.’

‘And,’ Duffy jumped in, ‘did you get it?’

‘No,’ his mouth turned down. ‘There was no order.’

Around the table, shoulders slumped back into seats.

‘But,’ Douglas added with a camp look, ‘I did find something.’

The detectives sat forward again.

‘It was a race against time.’ He puffed out his chest. ‘But I managed to retrieve a follow-up he’d deleted from his spam folder.’

There were puzzled faces.

Chisolm spoke. ‘Better explain.’

‘When you place an order, companies often send a follow-up email tempting you to buy more. Sometimes a deluge of emails.’

Brian twigged. ‘That’s why they end up in the spam folder.’

‘Precisely.’

‘But,’ Brian argued, ‘how did you…’ He paused. ‘I thought you said it had been deleted.’

‘Yes.’ Smug look. ‘But not double-deleted. He deleted it from his spam folder but not from his trash. Likely reckoned he’d covered his tracks.’

‘Right,’ Brian nodded, ‘I get you. And that’s why he was happy enough to surrender his laptop.’

‘So,’ Duffy stroked his chin, ‘Gordon Struthers tried to top the wife right enough?’

Douglas smirked. ‘Looks like it.’

‘And he almost got away with it.’

‘Except,’ Brian qualified, ‘he made a schoolboy error: not double-deleting that email.’

‘Might have been in a hurry,’ Duffy mused.

‘Whatever,’ Chisolm came back in. ‘We’re still in the realms of speculation here. Gordon Struthers may or may not have proceeded to order these substances, which he may or may not have used in an attempt on his wife’s life.’

‘What’s he saying to it?’ Duffy again.

‘Denies all knowledge.’

Dave Wood’s mouth turned down. ‘Don’t they all?’

‘So we don’t have authority to charge?’ Brian queried.

‘Not at this point.’ Chisolm responded. ‘Bottom line is we have some evidence, but insufficient to meet the threshold. And without a full examination of that computer…’ He broke off. ‘It’s bad luck our timing was out on that one. If the techies hadn’t been quite so pushed, and…’

‘If you’ll allow me,’ Douglas interrupted.

Chisolm bristled. ‘Did you hear what I said a minute ago?’

‘I did, sir. Only…’

‘As I was saying,’ Chisolm looked at his watch. ‘The clock’s ticking. And without that order we have to let Gordon Struthers go.’

‘But, sir…’

All eyes were on Dunn.

‘Couldn’t we ask for an extension?’

Chisolm fixed him with a thunderous look. ‘On what basis?’

‘I cloned the hard drive, sir.’ Douglas said smugly. ‘Give me a few hours more and I’ll find you that order.’