Page 83 of The Mercy Chair

‘The courses,’ Linus said.

‘The courses,’ Bradshaw agreed. ‘Because we now know the course was a shared experience between Nathan Rose and Cornelius Green, we can use CSM.12.R2.CL as the basis for a metadata search. I can use it as my frame of reference. Something I can test certain words against.’

‘What words?’

‘I don’t know yet. That’s why we need to go shopping.’

‘What do you need, Tilly?’ Poe asked.

‘Religious books and pamphlets, Poe. Lots of them, the more obscure, the more extreme the better. Old Testament rather than New Testament. Cornelius Green didn’t own a computer so CSM.12.R2.CL will be a reference from a book, not a web article.’

‘And if it was online, you’d have found it,’ Poe said, not completely covering a yawn. He checked his watch. It was getting late, too late for the bookshops to be open. ‘OK, here’s what we’ll do. We’ll get some rest and, in the morning, Tilly can make a start with what she already has while me and Snoopy hit the bookshops. That way we can cover twice as many—’

‘I’ll observe Tilly, if that’s OK?’ Linus cut in.

‘No, it’s not OK, Snoopy.’

‘Nevertheless.’

‘“Nevertheless”? What the hell does that mean?’

‘It means I can call my director and order your director to order you if necessary.’

‘I don’t give a shit who you call, you little knob, it’s not—’

‘It’s OK, Poe,’ Bradshaw said. ‘Linus can watch me tomorrow if he wants. What’s the worst that could happen?’

Poe really wished she wouldn’t say things like that.

Chapter 72

Poe walked into the room Bradshaw had taken at the North Lakes Hotel and Spa without knocking. The bed had been pushed up against the wall, the TV was on the floor, and the dressing table, coffee table and TV cabinet had been joined together to form a workstation. Bradshaw was going back and forth between some open textbooks and her computer screen, her grey eyes sparkling, her chin jutting out in concentration. She was in full Bradshaw mode.

Poe dumped the latest pile of books by her computer. She didn’t look up; said ‘thanks’ and passed him a note with a new book to hunt down:Seductive Poisonby Deborah Layton.

‘Never heard of it,’ Poe said.

‘It’s about the Jim Jones Peoples Temple mass suicide event, Poe,’ Bradshaw said. ‘Nine hundred and thirteen cult members died by cyanide-poisoned Flavor Aid; three hundred and four of them were children.Seductive Poisonwas written by one of the few survivors.’

‘And why do you want to read it?’

‘Jim Jones was a charismatic leader; Cornelius Green was a charismatic leader. With the help of a very small inner circle, they both ruled their respective cults like a demagogue. It’s possible there was something in Jim Jones’s life that Cornelius Green was trying to emulate.’

‘And if there was?’

‘Then I have another frame of reference when it comes to deciphering these,’ Bradshaw said, tapping photographs of the alphanumeric tattoos.

‘You coming, Snoopy?’

‘I’m fine here, thanks, Poe,’ Linus replied.

And he was. Poe had been a spare wheel on these Tillyathons many times and they all ended the same way – after twenty minutes he got bored and fidgety. Bradshaw barely spoke, she hummed and tutted, she blew hair out of her eyes, and she never stopped, not even for a toilet break. There was only so much sitting around Poe could handle before he got restless-leg syndrome.

But Linus didn’t look bored; Bradshaw’s process seemed to fascinate him. He was making notes; he was standing over her shoulder and watching her work. He was interested in the uninteresting. He wasn’t stupid enough to interrupt and ask questions, but Poe could see he had a load lined up for later.

Poe had arrived home shortly before midnight the day before. Doyle was waiting with a bottle of cold beer and a shepherd’s pie in the oven. Poe had called Flynn to let her know a witness had committed suicide in front of them. Flynn had immediately called Doyle – knowing Poe wouldn’t – so she was aware he might be upset. Doyle didn’t say anything, just wrapped her arms around him and hugged until she felt him relax.

She had led him to the sofa and handed him his beer before opening one for herself. She patted the cushion in the middle and Edgar hopped up. The spaniel turned around five times before slumping down in a heap, his head resting on Poe’s leg. Poe idly fondled his ears.

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