"It was a bit choppy, but believe me, you've never seen John Major and Margaret Thatcher getting on so well! It gave a whole new meaning to the word " gobbledegook"!"
Tony stared at Carol in stunned silence.
"You're kidding me," he said.
"It's the perfect explanation of why the videos manage to keep him under control."
"Wouldn't that mean he'd have to be a real boffin, like your brother?"
"I don't think so," Carol said.
"From what I gathered, the actual techniques involved are fairly simple. But the software and the peripherals that you need to do it are incredibly expensive. You could be talking two or three grand just for one piece of software.
So he's either working for a company where he has that sort of equipment on tap and the privacy to work on his own stuff, or else he's a computer hobbyist with a lot of disposable income. "
"Or a thief," Tony added, only half joking.
"Or a thief," Carol agreed.
"I don't know," Tony said dubiously.
"It does answer the problem, but it's totally off the wall."
"And Handy Andy isn't?" Carol said belligerently.
"Oh, he's off the wall, all right, but I'm not sure he's that together."
"He builds torture machines. That would be a lot easier with a computer design program. Tony, something's keeping him stable on his eight-week cycle. Why not this?"
"It's a possibility, Carol, no more than that at this stage. Look, why don't you make some preliminary enquiries, see how feasible what you're suggesting would be in practice?"
"You don't want to include it in the profile?" Carol asked, bitterly disappointed.
"I don't want to undermine the things I feel are strongly probable by including something that's really only a bit of kite-flying at this stage. You said yourself, it was triggered off by one of the few bits in the profile that is little more than speculation. Don't get me wrong, I'm not knocking the idea. I think it's brilliant. But we're going to have to work bloody hard as it is to overcome the resistance in some quarters to the profile as a whole. Even people who are broadly in support of the idea aren't necessarily going to agree with some parts of it. So let's not give them any easy targets. Let's bottom it, present it to them gift- wrapped so the snipers can't just knock it straight off the perch. OK?"
"Fine," she said, knowing in her heart he was right. She picked up a sheet of paper and a pen.
"Check out software manufacturers and consultancies in Bradfield area," she muttered to herself as she wrote.
"Check with Michael about manufacturers of necessary hardware software then check sales records. Check recent thefts."
"Computer clubs," Tony added.
"Thanks, yes," Carol said, adding that to her list.
"And bulletin boards. Oh boy, I'm going to be really popular with the HOLMES team."
She got to her feet.
"It's going to be a long job. I'd better get cracking. I'll take this down to Scargill Street now and give it to Mr Brandon. We'll need you to come in and go through it."
"No problem," Tony said.
"I'm glad something isn't."
Tony stared out of the window of the tram, watching the city lights pass in a blur of rain. There was something cocoon-like about the gleaming white interior of the tram. Graffiti-free, warm, clean; it felt like a safe place to be. As the driver approached traffic lights, he gave a blast on the breathy horn. It sounded like a noise from childhood, the sort of hooting that a cartoon train would produce, he decided.
He turned away from the window and covertly studied the half-dozen other passengers on the tram. Anything to take his mind off the curious emptiness he felt now he had delivered his profile. It wasn't as if this would be the end of his involvement with the case. Brandon had told Carol that she was to have a daily briefing with him.
He wished he could have been more encouraging about her computer theory, but years of training and practice had rendered the habit of caution ingrained. The idea itself was brilliant. Once she had done some research into the practicability of what she was suggesting, he'd be only too happy to endorse it with her fellow officers. But for the sake of his profile's credibility, he had to keep his distance from ideas that the average copper would dismiss as science fiction.
He wondered how the police were faring that evening. Carol had called him to say that teams were going out