‘Hey, Dawson, boss is out,’ offered Gary, the chubby guy he’d come to see.
‘Hey, Gaz, it’s fine. It’s you I’m here to see. How are you doing?’
‘Better recently, thanks, and you never call me Gaz.’
‘Need your help, mate,’ Dawson said, tapping him on the shoulder and pulling over a chair.
Gary was a good kid and liked to help other folks out. He wasn’t given to flashes of brilliance but he had a surplus of something in which Dawson knew that he himself was severely lacking. Patience.
The man had tracked down just about every database known to man. From shoe prints to tyre tracks. He’d even written his own database to keep track of all the databases he had access to.
Dawson took the print off from his jacket pocket. ‘Got nails used at a crime scene. This is the chemical composition. Any chance you could track down where they were manufactured?’
Gary stared at the paper.
This made perfect sense to Dawson. If he could trace the manufacturers, he may be able to get a list of who they supplied and take it from there. Some small manufacturers only supplied a few key wholesalers. And if anyone could find out, Gary could.
‘So, what do you think, mate?’
‘I’m waiting for the punchline,’ Gary replied.
‘Huh?’ Dawson asked as a couple of people looked up.
‘Well, this has to be some kind of piss-take. You can’t be dumb enough to mean this.’
‘Hey, Gaz, mind your…’
‘Only you would have the fucking cheek to come back to a team you’ve finally left in peace to get them to do your fucking job for you.’
Dawson was stunned.
Gary continued and now the whole room was listening, and watching.
‘You don’t get it, do you? We’re all glad to see the back of you. No more stealing everyone else’s ideas or snaffling the most promising leads or slacking off and expecting everyone else to cover for you. Mate,’ he said meaningfully. ‘We couldn’t wait to see the back of you.’ He thrust the piece of paper against Dawson’s chest. ‘So, the answer to your request is fuck off and do the job yourself.’
Gary pushed back his chair and headed out of the office.
Dawson looked around the room. No one spoke.
People he’d worked with for years simply lowered their heads and looked away.
By the looks of it, Gary had been speaking for all of them.
He put the sheet back into his pocket and walked out of the office with his head held high.
Now he knew he really was on his own.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Dawson answered on the third ring. She would have preferred the second.
‘Whatever you’re doing, stop it and head to Luke Fenton’s address and speak to the neighbours. Our guy has an unhealthy interest in little girls, one of which is the wearer of the pink hoody.’
‘Aww shit.’
Possibly the most intelligent thing she’d heard come out of his mouth so far.
‘See if any of the neighbours know if he’s ever been married; go and find out everything you can.’