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Back The Ringmaster Save as PDF
Chapters (73)
  1. Cover
  2. The Ringmaster
  3. Contents
  4. Prologue
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. 61
  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. 64
  69. 65
  70. 66
  71. Epilogue
  72. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  73. Copyright

There would have to be hundreds of places in Dunedin you could buy a plastic tie, and it was my job to find where the one used in the murder was purchased. That’s assuming it was even bought in Dunedin. A mass-produced, bog-standard, come-in-a-pack-of-a-hundred, non-identifiable, indistinguishable plastic bloody tie. Normally, ESR did this kind of leg work, not CIB. They had all the flash databases and extensive files to compare things, from brands of carpets to tyres. This was their territory. It wasn’t a very subtle backhand. To add further insult to injury, I was directly answerable to the DI.

No intermediary, no buffer.

Bloody marvellous.

4

The man standing behind the counter looked at me like I was wearing a Crunchy the Clown outfit or had something nasty stuck to my face. Having made five similar requests at five similar stores, it was a look I’d become familiar with and was well and truly over.

‘You want to know if we can identify everyone who has bought plastic cable ties in the last week?’ He was a little more forthright than the others and laughed openly. ‘What do you think we do all day?’

Eat donuts, I thought, from the look of him.

‘No, of course not. Don’t be silly. We know you can’t identify each individual.’ I tried to diffuse the situation. Difficult, when I was sick of it and felt I was pushing shit uphill with a rake. ‘But you are computerised, so you’d be able to let us know the dates of sales and how they were paid for.’

‘Huh.’ He grunted. ‘To a point. I could look up the pre-packs, but the individual ties go under miscellaneous.’

‘What about how they were paid for? Does the computer record debit- or credit-card details for each sale?’

He gave me that look again. I was tempted to wipe it off his face.

‘This is Dunedin, love, not a US TV show, where you can waltz in and, hey presto, every little detail is nicely recorded for you. So, no, mine doesn’t. The systems are separate.’ The last four words he said real slow.

My fists clenched tighter. Condescension and a ‘love’. I cursed the fact Smithy was off doing the interesting stuff while I was flying solo with the plebs. I took a deep breath and counted to ten in my head, in order not to lose the shred of control I had left. I reminded myself that, for the privilege of wearing that bright-yellow shirt to work each day, he was probably paid bugger all. There was some justice in the world.