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Chapter 73
DouglasSalt was too tall for his build. If he’d been four inches shorter he might have got away with it, but at six-foot-five he just looked weird, like he’d been put through a pasta machine. He had compensated as best he could. His face was tanned and symmetrical and his teeth were whiter than snow. Poe suspected his tan came out of a bottle, surgeons had sculptured his face, and his teeth had been bleached until they were down to the quick. His hair was ordered and neat. He wore cream chinos, a polo shirt and, despite being indoors and in his own home, he had a pink jumper slung over his shoulders. For some reason, he reminded Poe of American cheese.
The front door opened directly into a sunken living area of uninspired monotony. The floor was polished concrete and the walls were glass. The ceiling was twenty feet high. The kitchen area had a futuristic oven and other gadgets Poe recognised from a previous case. The only organic thing in the house was the Bonsai tree on the granite coffee table. The room’s central column, the only thing supporting the roof, housed a built-in fire and a flatscreen television.Citizen Kanewas playing.
‘Welcome to my humble abode,’ Salt said.
‘Cosy,’ Poe replied.
‘Now, what’s this Botanist nonsense? I assure you I’ve done nothing—’
‘You need to pack a bag, Mr Salt. We leave in five minutes.’
‘And where are we going?’
‘Somewhere safe.’
‘Am I under arrest?’
‘Have you done anything illegal?’
‘No.’
‘Then you’re not under arrest.’
‘I read the news, Sergeant Poe. I watch TV; why do you believe the Botanist has shown interest in me?’
‘We don’t believe he’s shown interest in you, weknowhe’s shown interest in you. Tilly, can you show Mr Salt the website?’
