London Calling - James Craig [54]
‘Yeah, his office confirmed that. You can’t be a proper PR man without one, apparently.’
‘So it was taken by the killer?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Can we track it?’ asked Carlyle, operating at the extreme limits of his technological knowledge. ‘It’s just like a mobile, right?’
‘Yeah, but it’s switched off. I’ve checked.’
Carlyle thought about that. ‘But if someone took it, presumably they want it for something. So, at some point they might be expected to switch it on?’
‘Not necessarily. You can switch it on but keep the wireless turned off. You can then access all the information already on the machine, though you won’t be able to send or receive any emails. That way businessmen can play with them on planes without causing a crash.’
‘That’s good to know,’ said Carlyle listlessly. He’d had his own BlackBerry up and running for little more than three weeks now and he hadn’t quite managed to work that kind of facility out yet. He wasn’t the kind of guy to bother consulting the user manual: a gadget either worked straight away or it went in a drawer. With the BlackBerry, once he had worked out how to use the email and check the latest football news (not necessarily in that order), as far as he was concerned he was away. In his book, whatever else the machine did was over-engineering – the curse of the modern consumer electronics industry.
He stood up and took a step over towards the window. ‘This place feels like a hotel suite, or one of those serviced apartments. It doesn’t look like we’ll get much here. What did the people employed at his company have to say?’
‘The usual: shock, horror, surprise.’
‘Could it have been a colleague that killed him?’
‘Doesn’t look like it, but we’re still taking statements. Nothing much has jumped out, so far. There are only thirty-five people working there and we haven’t heard any suggestion of grudges. The victim was reckoned to be very straightforward: good with clients, good at networking, relatively good with junior staff. Not too pushy. Basically, he seems to have kept his work life and his private life separate. They knew he wasn’t married, otherwise he’s a bit of a blank sheet of paper.’
‘OK, go and have another chat with the Alethia people tomorrow morning and see what you can find out about his clients.’
‘No problem.’ Joe nodded. ‘They don’t start early, these folks, so I can take the kids to school for once. Anita will be chuffed.’
‘Nice,’ Carlyle smiled. ‘What about ex-colleagues?’
‘Doubtful. The company has only been going a few years, and none of the top people has left yet. Apparently, the way these things work is that you build up the business and then sell it off to someone bigger. You probably get tied in for a while, but then you can bugger off as soon as the cash hits your bank account. They haven’t got to that stage yet.’
‘What about the more junior staff?’
‘Again,’ Joe sighed, ‘nothing’s really come up. It’s the kind of place where the secretaries save a bit of money and then go backpacking in Australia. The others are all bright young things, very career-focused.’
Carlyle kept throwing out the questions as they popped into his head. ‘What was Blake doing before this job?’
‘Dunno. Still checking.’
‘Next of kin?’
‘Nope. Parents dead. No brothers or sisters.’
‘Partner?’
Joe gestured around the sparse room. ‘Apparently not.’
‘Neighbours?’
‘There are six flats in this building. We’ve managed to speak to someone in three of them so far. Two more are still being chased.’
‘And?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Fucking hell.’ Carlyle sighed. ‘Give me something!’
Joe shrugged. ‘They didn’t seem that interested, to be honest. Apparently he’s been living here for about eight years, but that’s about it. Like the people at his work, they found him fairly quiet and polite.’
‘Car?’
‘Nice motor, an Audi Q7. It’s downstairs. There’s a garage in the basement.’
‘Has it been checked?’
‘Yeah. A preliminary search threw up nothing.’
‘What about cameras?’
‘None. Neither inside nor outside.’
Carlyle raised his eyebrows.
‘I know,’ said Joe. ‘Some of the residents thought it would lower the tone,