untested ground.
It’s Tuesday 18th September. My laptop tells me the forecast is for more rain, and highs of twelve degrees. After two hours’ work on the hermit crab with Dvo r ?ák on the speakers I’m interrupted by Skype ringing.
Caller: Ashok Sharma, Phipps & Wexman. Time: 08.18.
That’s early, for Ashok. I’m tempted to reject it, but I can’t. Working from home was a right I campaigned for after things deteriorated with Kaitlin. Ashok agreed in the end, on condition that I stay contactable at all times. I turn down Dvo r ?ák and press answer. Ashok’s looking tired and dishevelled and a shade paler. I focus on the door handle which is visible behind his left ear. I don’t do eye contact, but I have ways of hiding it.
‘You there bud?’
‘Yes. Working on the hermit crab.’ I hold it up to show him.
‘Cool, man. Look, things are turning weird on us. It’s happened again.’
‘What has?’
‘Just had another case like Chen’s. Sabotage followed by self-harm, take two. The world of finance this time. Employee of Sverige Banken, the Swedish bank. They’re the client.’
I settle the hermit crab back on the desk. ‘Go on.’
‘Guy called Jonas Svensson.’
‘Ashok, Ashok, Ashok. Scandinavian languages have a soft J. So it’s pronounced Yonas .’
‘Whatever. The good news is, our friend Yonas is still alive. But only just. They pumped his stomach and induced a coma. When he wakes up – we’re talking tomorrow or the day after – you need to talk to him.’
‘What did he do?’
‘Deliberately screwed up some coffee futures deal. Lost the bank millions. Didn’t deny it. Wouldn’t explain. Or couldn’t. I’ve mailed you the details.’ Ashok’s PA, Belinda Yates, appears with a steaming cup which she places on the desk next to him. ‘Thanks babe.’ He posts a piece of nicotine gum into his mouth then points at me. ‘OK. Your wish is my command. What’ll make you happy?’
Freddy, I think. Freddy here, with me. But I don’t say that as it’s inappropriate to the matter in hand, so I say, ‘I want to see Sunny Chen’s suicide note.’
Ashok says, ‘Cops in Taiwan say it doesn’t make sense.’ I see the white blob in his mouth as he speaks. ‘Turns out it’s not a note. Much weirder. Some little drawings and a hand-print. Chen’s wife says he can’t have done it. She’s very insistent. But she found it next to a shrine thing they have in the kitchen, where they left each other messages. So sounds like wishful thinking to me. Didn’t know the Chinese had shrines in their kitchens. Something new every day, right?’
Sunny Chen said he’d made the hand-mark in the timber factory himself. But at the same time he’d wanted the police to take fingerprints. Why?
‘I need to see the note. Have they taken fingerprints of it?’ I reach for my Swedish dictionary, and flip through it. I have a habit of underlining words that appeal to me. Utveckling. Olika. Näktergal. Talartid .
‘Doubt it. But I’ll check. By the way, got something to cheer you up. Whybray’s in town.’
‘Professor Whybray? You’re sure?’ I close the dictionary. The professor retired after Mrs Whybray died. He moved to Toronto. He called it a city after my own heart. ‘What brought him back?’
‘The Home Office.’ I have known the professor for fourteen years and seven months. But it’s three years and two months since I saw him in the flesh. Not a week has gone by when I have not remembered something he taught me, and applied it. Last Christmas he sent a card. To the young and bright from the old and wise . I could hear him saying those words aloud. I follow your work with interest. His voice is high and reedy and always sounds a little hoarse. Congratulations on solving the Hungarian conundrum. With affection, Victor. I never called him Victor. He used to tease me about my inability to drop the formality of his title. I’m excited. I can feel chemical changes in my
It’s Tuesday 18th September. My laptop tells me the forecast is for more rain, and highs of twelve degrees. After two hours’ work on the hermit crab with Dvo r ?ák on the speakers I’m interrupted by Skype ringing.
Caller: Ashok Sharma, Phipps & Wexman. Time: 08.18.
That’s early, for Ashok. I’m tempted to reject it, but I can’t. Working from home was a right I campaigned for after things deteriorated with Kaitlin. Ashok agreed in the end, on condition that I stay contactable at all times. I turn down Dvo r ?ák and press answer. Ashok’s looking tired and dishevelled and a shade paler. I focus on the door handle which is visible behind his left ear. I don’t do eye contact, but I have ways of hiding it.
‘You there bud?’
‘Yes. Working on the hermit crab.’ I hold it up to show him.
‘Cool, man. Look, things are turning weird on us. It’s happened again.’
‘What has?’
‘Just had another case like Chen’s. Sabotage followed by self-harm, take two. The world of finance this time. Employee of Sverige Banken, the Swedish bank. They’re the client.’
I settle the hermit crab back on the desk. ‘Go on.’
‘Guy called Jonas Svensson.’
‘Ashok, Ashok, Ashok. Scandinavian languages have a soft J. So it’s pronounced Yonas .’
‘Whatever. The good news is, our friend Yonas is still alive. But only just. They pumped his stomach and induced a coma. When he wakes up – we’re talking tomorrow or the day after – you need to talk to him.’
‘What did he do?’
‘Deliberately screwed up some coffee futures deal. Lost the bank millions. Didn’t deny it. Wouldn’t explain. Or couldn’t. I’ve mailed you the details.’ Ashok’s PA, Belinda Yates, appears with a steaming cup which she places on the desk next to him. ‘Thanks babe.’ He posts a piece of nicotine gum into his mouth then points at me. ‘OK. Your wish is my command. What’ll make you happy?’
Freddy, I think. Freddy here, with me. But I don’t say that as it’s inappropriate to the matter in hand, so I say, ‘I want to see Sunny Chen’s suicide note.’
Ashok says, ‘Cops in Taiwan say it doesn’t make sense.’ I see the white blob in his mouth as he speaks. ‘Turns out it’s not a note. Much weirder. Some little drawings and a hand-print. Chen’s wife says he can’t have done it. She’s very insistent. But she found it next to a shrine thing they have in the kitchen, where they left each other messages. So sounds like wishful thinking to me. Didn’t know the Chinese had shrines in their kitchens. Something new every day, right?’
Sunny Chen said he’d made the hand-mark in the timber factory himself. But at the same time he’d wanted the police to take fingerprints. Why?
‘I need to see the note. Have they taken fingerprints of it?’ I reach for my Swedish dictionary, and flip through it. I have a habit of underlining words that appeal to me. Utveckling. Olika. Näktergal. Talartid .
‘Doubt it. But I’ll check. By the way, got something to cheer you up. Whybray’s in town.’
‘Professor Whybray? You’re sure?’ I close the dictionary. The professor retired after Mrs Whybray died. He moved to Toronto. He called it a city after my own heart. ‘What brought him back?’
‘The Home Office.’ I have known the professor for fourteen years and seven months. But it’s three years and two months since I saw him in the flesh. Not a week has gone by when I have not remembered something he taught me, and applied it. Last Christmas he sent a card. To the young and bright from the old and wise . I could hear him saying those words aloud. I follow your work with interest. His voice is high and reedy and always sounds a little hoarse. Congratulations on solving the Hungarian conundrum. With affection, Victor. I never called him Victor. He used to tease me about my inability to drop the formality of his title. I’m excited. I can feel chemical changes in my
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