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CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

I t took him two beers and a fish supper to make amends with Nina and assure her he would never again work for the boss who had all but slaughtered his lifelong dream.

Nina sat back in her chair, eyeing their surroundings.

Merchant Square housed multiple pubs and restaurants fenced in by the old walls of the city’s market. A glass ceiling topped off the setup, giving the area a sense of privacy while retaining the atmosphere of a square.

At this time of the night, fairy lights glinted from the ceiling, a warm sight against the darkened sky.

Given it was a weeknight, the pubs within the square were almost empty, a stark contrast to the last time Nina and Robert had gone drinking at the Counting House. They were more in sync now than they’d been back then.

Holding his own pint up, Robert asked, ‘Would you like a top up?’

‘Why? Tired of watching me eat?’

Robert held back a hoot of laughter. He’d watched her eat a massive plateful with extra chips, mushy peas and a side of chicken goujons. A plate he’d hinted might be too much for one person. He’d also deciphered exactly which chicken strip had been one too many for her. Still she’d stuffed herself, adjusting her trousers so she could dump some more into her mouth.

And she’d topped it off with two pints of Guinness.

‘Not at all,’ Robert managed to say. The last thing he wanted was another reason to grovel. ‘Just wondered if you wanted a refill.’

Nina suppressed a burp then shook her head. ‘Open that laptop.’

Robert passed her the backpack. When they’d left to get dinner, Nina had insisted they carry it with them. Apparently, she’d had an idea.

‘Nina, you said Dickheadson questioned you about the article you were writing.’

Nina booted up her laptop and snarled, ‘The bastard called my work threadbare.’

Robert watched her type then studied her face. ‘Er, if you have your laptop here, how did he find your notes?’ He curled his lip. ‘I don’t think Dickheadson has hacking skills to get your data from the cloud or something – the man can’t even find the letters on a keyboard.’

Nina rolled her eyes. ‘I had printed out some preliminary notes to get started on my article. He found them in the flat. This laptop doesn’t connect to the cloud. It’s got extra firewalls on it – and tech that ensures my work remains encrypted.’

Robert snagged a stray chip from her plate. ‘So why did you ask me to bring your backpack along?’

Nina fetched the camera. ‘The last time I booted this up, I couldn’t find the wire that would connect it to my laptop. Then a simple internet search made me realise that these things have memory cards in them.’

She twisted the camera around, studying the body again. The more she twirled the thing, the deeper her frown etched on her face. She sighed. ‘A memory card I can’t ever find.’

Robert held his hand out for the camera. When Nina handed it back to him, he turned it around in his hands, but the thing didn’t seem to have any sort of slot. He brought his phone out and searched for the camera’s specs on the internet – its make and model had been engraved on the bottom in grey.

It took him a minute to find a manual and then a video, then a good five minutes of studying the camera to find the latch for the memory-card slot. He pressed down on it like the video instructed him to. Nothing budged.

He looked up another video, tried again. Once more, nothing. Robert frowned at the device. ‘That’s strange.’

Nina reached out and grabbed the camera back. She held the thing under the light and said, ‘Fuck! He’s glued it closed.’

They both leaned in, heads pressed together and saw the slight remnants of something silvery stuck to the latch.

Robert sat back. ‘Well, that leaves us with nothing.’

The glint in Nina’s eyes said otherwise though. She shook her head. ‘It tells us this device contains something Jonas didn’t want people finding. If you pull the memory card out with force, it might damage not just the device but the card too.’

Robert stared at Nina, she gazed back, a small smile tilting up her lips. ‘You know what that means?’

Urgh, just his damned luck! Robert groaned. ‘Fucking Finn.’

Nina set the camera on the table. ‘You know he’s best placed to deal with it.’

It would also entail sitting through the bastard’s constant moaning. And Robert knew Finn would make him beg first.

‘What if we go to the shop Jonas purchased this device from? Maybe they have some tricks to get the memory card out?’

Nina scowled at Robert. ‘Jonas could’ve bought this from any shop – online or in store. Do you know how many camera shops are here in Glasgow alone?’

He didn’t know exactly, but Robert had walked past many. He growled, then in a last-ditch effort to avoid Finn, grabbed the camera bag.

The thing had fluffy cushioning on the inside. Nina had called it toaster-sized, and he tended to agree. The padding would certainly save the most fragile device from a fall.

Nina packed up her laptop. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Searching.’ For anything that would give them a lead before they brought Finn in.

Rooting around the bag, Robert pressed down on the polyester covered cushions. He spread the mouth of the camera bag wide to study the inner lining. Despite the low light, the silvery polyester gleamed.

Robert let the bag go and fumbled in his pocket.

Nina sat up. ‘What is it?’

He handed her the phone. ‘Flash the torch.’

When she angled the phone’s torch on the camera bag, Robert resumed his search. He checked the lining again, even scrutinising the crevices between the padding. He kept an eye out for tears too. Nothing stood out to him. He didn’t find any secret compartments.

‘It’s weird how clean it is. I mean there isn’t even a scrap of paper in there.’ Nina frowned at the bag. ‘I didn’t peg Jonas as OCD or even particularly neat.’

Robert unzipped the pockets on the side of the bag. ‘It’s also strange how the camera’s charger is missing. There is plenty of space to store it in here.’

Once more he studied the extra pockets. Then he tilted the bag to look at the bottom. Just a sturdy base that would protect the camera from a fall.

Still… Robert pressed a hand to the bottom of the bag, then pressed down from the inside. His heart rate kicked up.

Nina was still frowning at him, shining the torch light. ‘What are you looking for?’

Robert turned the bag towards her. ‘Press down on the side of the bag and see how large the cushion is on the sides.’

She did as he said, then shrugged. ‘Two centimetres thick? Maybe three?’

He dropped the bag. ‘Now check the bottom.’

The moment she tried what he had, Nina’s jaw dropped. ‘Hold on.’ She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip.

Like the call of a siren, Robert’s member stirred. He squeezed his fingers, digging his nails into his palms. Not now, you fucking eejit!

Nina’s hands were still rooting around, her face tilted up towards the night sky. She kept muttering to herself until, ‘huh!’

A ripping sounded through the quiet Merchant Square, then Nina held up two chits of paper.

‘What—?'

Nina slapped the paper down. ‘There’s a Velcro at the bottom.’

How come he hadn’t?—

Nina wiggled her fingers. ‘Small does the trick.’

Oh aye, she did for him, certainly.

Clearing his throat, and hoping to clear his dirty mind, Robert pulled the chits towards him. They were cards, the sort people handed out to new contacts. One was in bright orange, almost like the colour of the Outer subway line. And ironically, the other card was grey like the Inner.

Robert studied the grey one first. In yellow lettering, it said, ‘Greyscale Cameras.’ The address on the card located this business on Buchanan Street.

And the other card?—

Nina snatched it from him, her lips moving as she read the name. ‘Beck’s Storage.’

Robert tilted his head. ‘On High Street.’

Nina smacked the card on the table, her eyes wide. ‘Where the lockers are. Fuck, Robert, did we just connect Jonas to Anne?’