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'Sounds like an inner guilt conflict, Thursday. In policing we have to sometimes close off our emotions. Could you have killed Hades if you'd been thinking clearly?'
'I don't think I would have been able to kill him if I wasn't. I've not lost a single night's sleep over Hades, but poor Bertha Rochester bothers me a bit.'
'Maybe that's it,' replied Bowden. 'Perhaps you secretly want to be held accountable for her death. I heard Crometty talking to me for weeks after his murder – I thought I should have been there to back him up, but I wasn't.'
This made me feel a lot better and I told him so.
'Good. Anything else you want me to reassure you about while we're on the subject?'
'The Goliath Corporation?'
Bowden's face fell.
'Sometimes you ask too much.'
'Ah, there you are!' said a booming voice. It was Victor Analogy, the head of the LiteraTec office. He was in his mid-seventies and possessed a mind as sharp as a razor. He was a natural buffer between us at SO-27 and Commander Braxton Hicks, who was strictly a company man. Analogy guarded our independence closely, which was the way we all liked it.
We all said our good mornings and Victor sat on my desk.
'How's the PR stuff going, Thursday?'
'More tedious than Spenser, sir.'
'Too right. I saw you on the telly last night. Rigged, was it?'
'Just a little.'
'I hate to be a bore but it's all important stuff. Have a look at this fax.'
He handed me a sheet of paper and Bowden read over my shoulder.
'Ludicrous,' I said, handing the fax back. 'What possible benefit could the Toast Marketing Board get from sponsoring us?'
Victor shrugged.
'Not a clue. But if they have cash to give away we could certainly do with some of it.'
'What are you going to do?'
'Braxton's speaking to them this afternoon. He's very big on the idea.'
'I bet he is.'
Braxton Hicks's life revolved around his precious SpecOps budget. If any of us even thought of doing any sort of overtime, you could bet that Braxton would have something to say about it – and something in his case meant 'no'. Rumour had it that he had spoken to the canteen about giving out smaller helpings for dinner. He had been known as 'Small Portions' in the office ever since – but never to his face.
'Did you find out who's been forging and trying to sell the missing ending to Byron's Don Juan?' asked Victor.
Bowden showed him a black-and-white photo of a dashing figure climbing into a parked car.
'Our prime suspect is a fellow named Byron2.'
Victor looked at the picture carefully.
'He's Byron number two? Must have been pretty quick to get in when the name changing ident law came into effect. How many Byrons are there now?'
'Byron2620 was registered last week,' I told him. 'We've been following Byron2 for a month but he's smart. None of the forged scraps of Heaven and Earth can be traced back to him.'
'Wiretap?'
