What have you got?” I asked Benjamin.
“Only the most boring nature documentary ever.”
We watched the cam footage that Benjamin had recorded overnight. Benjamin speeded up the video so we didn’t have to endure in real time the scene of Holcomb coming into his bedroom the night before.
“Observe,” said Benjamin, “Torius parliamentus in his natural habitat.”
Holcomb changed into his pajamas, swallowed some pills that had to be the Rohypnol I had found in his medicine cabinet, and climbed into bed. When he switched off the lights, the footage went to infrared. He slept like a log. No one entered his bedroom throughout the night.
“I am distinctly disappointed in the lack of ghostly sexy times,” said Benjamin.
“Did you get our clients’ permission to put surveillance cameras in his flat?”
“Er, no,” I said.
We didn’t realize Roger had been standing behind us watching the footage all along. His face was a shade of beet red, like a blood vessel might pop any second, and his teeth were grinding as if he was trying very hard to keep his head from exploding. Benjamin and I couldn’t answer. I let my gaze wander to Olivia talking to a pair of Buddhist monks in the boardroom. New clients who wanted her to secure their IT network from hackers.
“Tell me you’re going to delete this footage and you’ve removed the cameras from that flat,” Roger said.
“But didn’t you say we should pull every trick in the book to crack this case?”
“This poor sod might be our next prime minister, and I don’t want Special Branch knocking on our door if they find out we bugged his flat,” said Roger. “You haven’t answered me about the cameras.”
“Err,” muttered Benjamin.
“Imagine if this footage got out,” Roger said slowly. “If we’re lucky, only you two will go to fucking prison. If we’re lucky, we won’t get sued.”
Benjamin was already scrambling to get his gear together to go back to Holcomb’s flat to remove the cameras.
“Just you, Benjamin. Make sure you remove all the cameras and microphones. As for you, Ravi, get out there and earn your bloody wages.”
I moved Holcomb’s video file into the trash and deleted it. Olivia was laughing with the monks as they spoke rapid Mandarin while Cheryl served them all tea.
“Looks like you’ll have to kick it old-school after all, eh?” smirked Clive from his desk.
Ken and Clive were enjoying watching the newbie squirm.
“Ain’t no cuttin’ corners when it comes to legwork,” Ken said. “You’re not gonna catch anyone red-handed sittin’ behind a computer.”
Ken and Clive were much less amused when Roger ordered them to go out with me to make sure there were no more cock-ups. He was putting the training wheels back on.
At least he let us take out the company BMW.