Chapter 68
It wasn’t.
The first sign was shouting from downstairs. Monica Costelloe, screaming like a trumpet. Poe could hear someone trying to shush her. Bad move. Monica yelled even louder. She wasn’t trying to stop whoever was downstairs. This was a warning to Poe.
‘Are we ready?’ he said.
Esmerée popped a can of Irn-Bru. She took a swig and burped. ‘Bring it on, douchebags,’ she said.
Bradshaw just nodded.
‘OK, kids,’ Poe said. ‘Remember, it doesn’t matter if we win or lose; the important thing is that we have fun.’
The door to the outer office burst open. Two men marched in like they could smell fresh doughnuts. Susan Hawksworth followed them. She had the grace to look embarrassed.
The lead guy held out his NCA ID card as if he thought Poe might give a shit.
‘My name is John Gilliard. I’m a detective chief inspector with Organised Crime Command.
This is my colleague Andrew Gotobed. You already know Detective Constable Susan Hawksworth.
We have a search warrant for your office and cars.
It authorises us to seize anything relating to the case we’re working on. ’
‘Hi, Poe,’ Susan said.
Poe waved. ‘Wassup?’
Gilliard scowled at her. He was a big man with close-cropped dark hair.
He was carrying extra weight in his gut and his jowls.
He wore a dark suit with a white shirt. Blue tie with gold flecks.
Didn’t look machine-washable. An office cop then.
Field cops wore clothes they could wash for two hours at sixty degrees.
Hot enough and long enough to get the blood and puke out. He handed Poe the search warrant.
‘Are you going to be a problem, Mr Poe?’
‘Almost certainly.’
‘Because if … What do you mean, “Almost certainly”?’
‘What type of stupid surname is Gotobed?’
‘It dates back to the thirteenth century, Poe,’ Bradshaw said.
‘Opinion is divided on its etymology. It either stems from beds being such a rare thing it was worth commenting on, or, and I think this is more likely, it was a nickname for someone whose circadian rhythm was geared towards rising late.’
‘It is not a stupid name,’ Gotobed said through gritted teeth.
‘It fucking is, buddy,’ Esmerée said. ‘Stupidest name I ever heard, and I once met a dude called Erasmus Assman.’
‘Are you an early riser like Tilly, Gotobed, or a slugabed like Esmerée?’ Poe said. ‘Because the other day Edgar was licking Esmerée’s face for five minutes before she woke.’
‘Are you kidding me!’ Esmerée shrieked. ‘Edgar spends most of the day licking his own butt.’
Poe shrugged. ‘He wanted to play.’
‘It is not a stupid name,’ Gotobed said again.
He was a small man, not much bigger than Esmerée.
He had a thin, pinched face and grey hair.
His horn-rimmed glasses made it look as though he was cosplaying as John Major, surely the drippiest, dreariest prime minister in living memory.
He looked like the kind of person who fed sugar lumps to police horses.
Gilliard hadn’t given Gotobed a rank, which Poe took to mean he didn’t have one. He must be their tech guy.
Poe passed the search warrant to Bradshaw. ‘Check that’s in order, please, Tilly.’
‘I will, Poe.’
Gilliard said, ‘The warrant allows us—’
‘Ah-ah,’ Poe said. He held up his hand. ‘Not until Tilly’s finished.’
They waited. Esmerée took another swig of Irn-Bru, wiped her lips and burped. ‘I’m gonna be tasting Edgar’s asshole for days now,’ she grumbled.
‘The warrant isn’t in order, Poe,’ Bradshaw said.
‘Whoopsie,’ Poe said.
Gilliard’s feathers ruffled. ‘I can assure you it is in order, young lady.’
‘Tilly’s never wrong about … well, anything. How have they boobed?’
‘They have incorrectly spelled “seize”. They’ve put the i before the e.’
‘I learned a rhyme about that in school,’ Poe said. ‘And what does sieze mean, Tilly?’
‘It’s Romanian for “sit down”.’
‘So they can search and sit down?’
‘Yes, Poe.’
‘Go for it, chaps.’
Gilliard snatched back the warrant. He found the offending word. The back of his neck went beet red. ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ he snapped. ‘The meaning of the warrant couldn’t be clearer.’
‘I guess that’s for a judge to decide,’ Poe said. He kicked out the chair on the other side of his desk. ‘In the meantime, would you like to sieze, Chief Inspector?’