by Adam Melrose
‘Found them.’
Joe wandered over. Max handed him one of the books.
Joe looked at the title, Things to see in and around Cirencester.
‘Looks like an in-depth guide of what to see around here for the visitor. Let’s have a look see.’
Max watched on as Joe lifted the book up to his face and flipped through the pages, breathing in the smell.
‘What are you doing?’
Joe lowered the book once all the pages had come to rest.
‘I wanted to see if this book smelt new or not.’
‘And does it?’
‘No, it doesn’t smell new. I’ll have a scan through it. What have you got there?’
Max replicated his brother’s process, and breathed in the resulting draught.
‘This doesn’t smell new.’ Max flicked through the pages, ‘It also looks like it has been read a fair bit.’
Max turned the book over to look at the front.
‘A History of the Canals of the Cotswolds. Another Catchy title.’
They both took a seat, and began searching through their books for Shadow Tide references. Some time passed before they spoke further.
Joe spoke first.
‘What is the general gist of your book then in reference to the Shadow Tide?’
Max looked up from what he was reading.
‘Very much a warning to stay away. I was almost sold on them being genuine when I saw there were books referencing the Shadow Tide, but it is only mentioned in one section, and the tone is slightly different to the rest of the book. I am not so sure this is legit. I have an idea.’
Max surreptitiously took out his phone and held the book under the desk; he took a photo of the cover, the information pages containing the ISBN number, and then the first and last pages together with some pages of the index.
He then put the book down on the table, ‘What about yours Joe?’
Joe put his book down also, ‘Well I think it’s closely related to yours?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Just that it is the same setup. There is only one section referencing the Shadow Tide and it advises caution, and not to bother with The Portal. I think both these books have been planted here. Joe took the lead from his brother, and also took some photos, making sure not to be caught.’
Max took the books and put them back on the shelf.
‘I don’t think we need anyone who might be following us to see what we looked at, are you happy to put a few fake searches in that computer to throw them off.’
Joe put in some searches he thought anyone following them might buy, and they left the library. Once outside, the warm air from the library was replaced with a cooler, but fresher breeze. To their left further down the street a man lit up a cigarette; the strong fresh smell of the smoke blew in their direction.
‘Can I borrow your phone?’
Joe handed his phone over, ‘Sure, why.’
‘Well, it dawned on me that if someone has planted a copy of these books here, then they have probably been able to doctor search results, and put copies in online bookshops. Looking all that up will not help us, but I can think of one place where I doubt even Mr de Varley has thought to doctor copies of the books. One call should answer all this for us.’
Max typed and swiped on Joe’s phone for a few moments before bringing the phone up to his ear. A few moments passed, Max took the phone away from his ear and typed a number, then put the phone back to his ear. A few more moments passed.
‘Hello? Ah hello, this is a very strange request, but I wondered if you might be able to help me, I wanted to ask if you had a certain book in your library. I have the ISBN number and the title…You can, that would be great thanks.’
A brief conversation ensued, lasting only a few moments.
‘Well, thank you for your time.’
Max cupped his hand over the phone’s mouthpiece.
‘I’m speaking to someone at the National Library, they pretty much have a copy of every single book ever officially published, I was hoping they did not have a copy of the book, but they do.’
Max took his hand off the phone’s mouthpiece.
‘Sorry, thank you for your time.’
Max took the phone away from his face and was about to hang up. As he did so, his eyes lit up and he quickly put the phone back to his ear.
‘Hello, hello? Are you still there?... Ah good, sorry I don’t suppose you are able to access your copy of the book easily are you? It is important, I promise. You would, oh that would be great. Yes, I wondered, would you be able to let me know the page number on the last page?’
Joe began to follow his brother’s logic.
Max began talking again.
‘Yes, that’s right, if you are able to call back on this number that would be great, thank you. I look forward to hearing from you.’
Max hung up and handed the phone back to his brother.
‘I like your thinking. You’re thinking it is much easier to doctor a book that already exists, than create a whole new one.’
‘I am; and in thirty minutes we should know the answer. The lady on the other end of the phone has kindly agreed to go and look it up, and call us straight back. If Evo has doctored this copy here, then it would not be beyond them to muck about with online results; but I don’t think they will have gone as far as messing with the copy in the National library. If the page numbers on the last page match the book we have just seen, then I’m wrong, and the books are genuine; but if it doesn’t…’
Joe was nodding.
‘If it doesn’t and the number is noticeably different then…’
‘Then we would have ourselves the first piece in this particular puzzle.’
‘We would indeed.’
They turned and walked back to the car.
‘You fancy a coffee in town whilst we wait.’
‘I do, thanks.’
The two of them wandered through the alleyway that brought them into the centre of town. Although the temperature was not as high as it had been over the last few days, it was still pleasant. They found a coffee shop where they could sit out on the street and ordered something to drink. They sat in comfortable silence for a while. The voices of other customers blew in and out on the breeze along with the smell of fresh brewed coffee and hot toasted sandwiches. The strongest smell was warm tomatoes and warm basil. The brothers had finished their coffees and were just debating whether to order another when Joe’s phone rang. He handed it straight to Max.
‘Hello, yes I did, sorry yes my name is Max, I should have given that to you before. Yeah… exactly.’
A moment’s silence prevailed whilst the person on the other end of the line was talking. Joe could hear a voice, but not what was being said.
‘Ah OK, well I am very grateful. What was the number on your last page?’ Max made a note of the number on one of the paper napkins.
‘Thank you again for all your help, I really do appreciate that. Good bye.’
Max handed Joe his phone back and pulled out his own phone and interrogated it for a moment, before looking at the number on the paper napkin. He began to smile.
‘It’s too early to say Got You Evo, but – I think we are on the right path. Look at the page number difference between the book we saw today, and the one in the National library.’ Max paused a moment whilst he checked through the photos he had taken on the phone, ‘Yes according to the index, the number of pages in the chapter about the Shadow Tide match exactly to the difference in pages between the two books.’
‘Well, isn’t that interesting,’ said Joe. ‘That can’t be a coincidence.’
‘No, it can’t.’
‘I also don’t think there is any need to look into the second book. The fact someone has gone to serious lengths to doctor even one book is all we needed. So, whenever these Shadow Tide’s first came into existence, it tells us someone is going to considerable lengths and expense to try and make them older than they are
by altering books.’
‘And furthermore,’ said Joe, ‘Someone is also paying people off to imply the same thing verbally.’
‘Yeah you’re right of course; Alastor is clearly involved in all this at some level.’
‘Yes, unless he was fed the same line and genuinely believes it.’
‘Hmmm.’
Max looked up at his brother as they began walking back to the car.
‘I don’t think it can be that, he said he had known it since he was a child. I think he must be more involved in this than that.’
A short car journey found the brothers back at the hotel, they wandered to the Operations Room expecting to find some of the others there, but it was empty. They sat opposite each other at the table having got themselves some water. Max flipped a fresh A4 pad and pen towards Joe from the pile and took a pad and pen for himself.
‘I don’t think we are going to find who altered those books in the library, so it’s probably not worth looking. Like everything else with this case, it all happened so long ago that the trail has gone cold. Probably not a good use of resources.’
Joe agreed.
‘We think Evo is behind this anyway, so I am not sure we need to.’
‘The problem for me,’ said Joe, ‘Is that for the life of me, I can’t see the benefit in creating these Shadow Tides; what does Evo get from them? I mean how much does it even cost to shift that much water, that quickly with no obvious cash benefit. Either we are missing some financial angle or it is just utter madness and Evo is losing his mind.’
‘That’s a seriously good point. How do you move that much water that quickly? Maybe investigating the how will give us the who. We should make up a list, and then do some research.’
‘Good plan.’
Four hours had passed before either of them spoke again. Max was the first to speak.
‘So, I have searched for any reports in relation to local water-table problems, or anything that could point to water going missing on some large scale, but there is nothing online anywhere. So it is not being diverted from anywhere obvious or public as far as I can see.’
‘OK.’ said Joe. ‘I have looked into professional wave systems for pools and for laboratory testing and there is nothing I can see that will create what we witnessed. They all need the water in place already; so that doesn’t fit with what a Shadow Tide is. That’s all a bust. From all I can see though, anything involved in large volumes of water is extremely expensive. The cost is way above just trying to create some drama around something you want to develop as a small tourist destination. It doesn’t add up. There has to be something else going on here. What I can be sure of is there is nothing out there listed anywhere on the internet that is a Shadow Tide machine. Damn it!’
Max beamed a smile, ‘Joe, you legend, that’s it. You’ve just given us the break we need. Brilliant.’
‘I have?’
‘You’re saying damn made me suddenly think dam, as in construction of. That suddenly brought back a memory of our meeting with Alastor by the cars that first time, and him mentioning explosives.’
‘I don’t remember him saying explosives.’
‘He didn’t; he referenced a specific type of explosive.’
‘And you are thinking a layman would have said explosive or dynamite, not listed a specific type…which means.’
‘Which means Alastor is not a layman, but well versed in explosives; so perhaps an engineer in dam construction.’
‘Exactly. Mark mentioned something about dam construction, didn’t he? And of seeing Pete with someone who had worked with him on a dam project? I think our first job tomorrow is to find Mark, describe Alastor, and see if he can give us any pointers as to his real name. That might lead us closer to what is going on at The Portal, and with these Shadow Tides. I guess for now its meeting time.’
Chapter 32
Ava and Bruno were sitting in the far corner of the hotel’s outdoor bar area. They were in a sheltered section and were enjoying sitting outside. The birdsong was providing a very pleasant backdrop.
Ava looked up from her tablet.
‘I have done a pretty in-depth search on Evo and on Chantmarle Capital, there is nothing negative coming up. There are a few vanity articles, but nothing much; though I guess that doesn’t mean anything on its own.’
‘No,’ said Bruno, ‘It only means they haven’t reported any wrongdoing, not that there isn’t any. That said, maybe there isn’t anything to write about; it could be exactly what it appears to be; a well performing hedge fund.’
A pause ensued before Bruno continued with his verbal thought process.
‘Of course – it could also be that the Chantmarle Capital legal team are using all their clout to keep journalists in line, and that there is a story; it’s just not been exposed properly yet. My gut tells me something is up with that man.’
Ava looked up at Bruno, ‘I agree.’
Bruno put his tablet down on the table and looked across at Ava.
‘Well maybe there is a way we could test out whether there is in fact a known story, but for whatever reason no journalist will run with it. They might not be willing or able to publicly say anything but, in private – well, that could be an entirely different matter. It might be worth giving Ollie a call and asking him if he can put us in touch with any financial journalists that he thinks might have looked into Evo.’
Ava picked her phone up from the table. It was warm to the touch from lying in the sun.
‘Good plan, I will give him a call now and see if he can help.’
An hour or so passed whilst Ava waited for Ollie to return her call. She and Bruno had just ordered lunch and were handing the menus back to the waitress when Ava’s mobile rang. For the next ten minutes she talked with Ollie about what she and Bruno were proposing. Periodically Bruno looked across at her, and could tell the call was a positive one. Ava finished her call as their lunch arrived. The prevailing breeze made sure the smell of two freshly cooked burgers arrived just ahead of the waitress who was bringing them. Ava waited until the waitress had withdrawn from their table before divulging what she had discussed.
‘Ollie is going to send over the name of one of the journalists that have interviewed Evo a few times now. He knows the journalist better than he knows Evo, so he says he is fine with asking for a favour. He says it will be worth our while and we are in luck, the journalist lives nearby so hopefully he will be prepared to meet with us. I’ll give him a call after we’ve eaten.’
They both passed an enjoyable lunch, and Ava called the journalist. He lived near Stow on the Wold which with summer traffic was about an hour away. Although wary at first, Ava had worked her charm on him, and he had agreed to meet them in a café in the town in an hour and a half.
‘I guess him being cagey means there is something to all this. If there was nothing to say, I guess he would have said so.’
Bruno agreed with Ava’s assessment. They grabbed the keys to Bess from the Operations Room; there was no one there. As they crossed the car park to the Range Rover, they noticed the Audi was gone. Bruno looked at Ava as he wandered round to the passenger side of the car.
‘I am guessing Joe and Max are out exploring too.’
‘Yes, I guess they are, I know that Matt, Bella and Norton all hired bikes from the hotel to cycle over to the pub. They have a plan to ambush Eva. Hopefully it will work.’
About fifty minutes later, Ava and Bruno pulled into the centre of Stow on the Wold. Finding a parking space took some doing, but eventually they parked on the outskirts of the small town beside a rural Estate Agent’s shop; they then wandered up the hill to the café that was to be their rendezvous location.
As they walked in through the open door, the smell of baking and coffee greeted them. The café was packed and the atmosphere was convivial and loud. It was the perfect cover for a clandestine meeting. The diners were all involved in their own conversations, and no one gave the couple who had just walked in through
the door a first glance, never mind a second. Ollie had called them back before they set off and warned them that the journalist had called him back in a panic, saying he regretted agreeing to meet them, but after some pressuring from Ollie; he had agreed again, but been reluctant to; so that they should expect it to be a waste of their time. They weren’t hopeful, but had decided to come all the same.
Ava looked around the café. All the tables had more than one person seated at them except one. In the far-left corner near a window that looked out on to a garden, sat a dishevelled man hunched over his computer. Ava glanced across to Bruno. He signalled they should go over.
‘Mr James?’
The man looked up, slamming the laptop shut as he did so.
‘Yes, sit down… sit down.’
They did as directed.
Bruno lent forward so he was able to talk quietly and still be heard over the high noise level.
‘Thank you for seeing us.’
The man did not make eye contact.
‘I said to Ollie, I have nothing much that will help you.’
‘No,’ Bruno said, ‘I get that, but we could use anything that might help us. Just something that might point us in the right direction. We’re only private investigators, so we have no clout. Nothing you say to us will go in any official reports, or get back to Mr de Varley.’
Mr James was not convinced. Ava was about to talk when a waitress came over and took an order from them. The conversation turned to general chitchat whilst they waited for the tea to arrive. Once it had, and the waitress had retreated, Mr James’s manner and tone changed to a more serious and conspiratorial one.
‘OK,’ he said, ‘I’ll tell you what I know. I have no proof I’m afraid; you will have to take what I tell you at face value. It’s nothing revolutionary; just something, that on the surface doesn’t make sense.’
‘We would be grateful for whatever you have to share.’ said Ava.
‘OK, as far as the hedge fund goes, that is legitimate. It’s exactly what it appears to be. We were able to look into them well enough to satisfy ourselves that there is nothing shady there. They do appear to have made the odd random investment here and there over time, but then so do many hedge funds. The thing is, without knowing what their end goal is, what appears to us as a slightly odd play, could actually make a lot of sense if we understood their entire play book.’