Foul Deeds: A Rosalind Mystery by Linda Moore Page B

the years—but absolutely, yes—he was commissioned by that bunch over at Ecology Counts to do a little synopsis for them on the treatment plants.”
    â€œI see,” said McBride. “And what was Ecology Counts’ interest in the project?”
    â€œWell, between you and me, groups like this always presume we’re going to make bad decisions so they start bombarding Council and Staff with horror stories. I mean, I’m not saying they don’t perform a valuable service from time to time, but I wouldn’t mind making it through one day without their holier-than-thou attitude coming at me. Of course, Peter King was a smart man with a terrific mind, but he was in cahoots with that woman—you know—the one who wrote that water book…I forget what it’s called…blue something…Anyway, I’ve had it up to here with these trendy opinions that do nothing but prevent us from making real progress.”
    â€œSo this little synopsis you refer to that Peter King wrote for Ecology Counts—was it general or very specific to our situation here?”
    â€œWell, I’m sure they’d let you take a look at it if you asked them.”
    â€œBut, you must have a copy here at City Hall. You read it, didn’t you?”
    â€œAbsolutely. Of course I read it,” he scowled. “I can tell you we had plenty of reports—not just King’s. And what I read in all of those reports would just be the main points edited down by Staff.” The Mayor was getting bored and irritated.
    â€œAnyway, that business is all settled now and as far as I can tell, everybody’s happy. We’re set to run the plants ourselves, and that’s mainly what they were after—and what King was lobbying for.”
    â€œWell, that must have produced some unhappy campers on the other side,” McBride said. “My understanding is that the Europa Conglomerate stood to gain not only a lucrative long-term contract here, but basically a foothold in North America—and they lost both.”
    â€œLook, we were small potatoes for them. The truth is they were doing us a favour. Look how badly we’ve been managing our harbour for almost three hundred years. We don’t have a leg to stand on. We could use a little expertise, don’t you think? And expertise is what they were bringing to the exercise. They were not the criminals certain parties were trying to make them out to be.”
    â€œWho exactly were the individuals in Europa?” McBride asked. “Were they here on site?”
    â€œFrom time to time. Listen, you know what? This is all water under the bridge now and I’ve got a busy day. I don’t want to talk about this stuff. If you want to know who those people are, do your homework!”
    â€œYou’re coming through loud and clear. Why don’t I get out of your hair and drop in on City Staff…see if they have King’s original report on hand.”
    â€œFill your boots, McBride. Good to see you, again. Take it easy.” The grin was back and he extended his hand—ever the salesman.
    McBride’s real goal was to drop in on the Planning Office. If his mysterious caller had indeed been a clerk there, it was possible that a visit to the office would prompt some clue. He was fairly sure they’d have models and drawings of the treatment plants and if he could get someone to show him these, he could hang around long enough to draw attention to himself. It was already well after eleven, and he wanted to get there before everyone disappeared for lunch. There was no receptionist per se, but a young woman going by with a roll of drawings under her arm asked him if she could be of help. He flashed her his best smile. “I’ve just had some business with the Mayor, and he suggested I come over and take a look at the plans for the Sewage Treatment facilities. Do you have any models or