Page 17 of Fury

“Can see that.”

“Front doors were left unlocked, or someone picked the locks.”

Unlocked. Had I locked them when I’d charged out of them last night? Had the biker distracted me that much, I’d forgotten to lock up behind me? I couldn’t remember. But what I knew was there was someone in here with me last night. And I’d bet they were responsible for the mess.

“Anything else damaged or taken?”

Dave shook his head. “Just the computer on that desk,” he pointed into the office. “Luckily, no bodies were taken.”

“What? That’s a thing?”

“Aye. Happened a couple of times. Sometimes it’s just a mourning family member gone a bit crazy. But when the Kings…Sometimes it’s something more sinister.”

I hadn’t missed his slip-up. The mention of the Northern Kings again and something to do with them and the stealing of bodies. This club sounded more and more dangerous by the minute.

Sighing, I walked over to the strewn paperwork, eyeing up the space where the computer once stood. Now I really did have a problem. Because I knew there were things on that computer that I hadn’t been able to access yet, and I was pretty certain those things would not be in the cloud.

Last night was a good distraction. And whoever’s footsteps I’d heard, I was sure was responsible for the missing computer. Now I didn’t think it was a coincidence that I’d run into the biker, Fury, outside the building last night. But whatever this was, if he thought he could intimidate me, he had another fucking thing coming.

It took over two hours to tidy up the mess. Luckily, this was the only office that was targeted. And that told me something. Whatever was on that computer had been important. Something stored on the hard drive in Dave’s office. It had to be Dave. It could only have been he who had taken it.

My heels clacked down the corridor, the sound echoing off the woodchip papered walls. I was sure I’d announced my presence before I opened the door to the pokey little space that had now become Dave’s home.

“Dave,” I pushed the door open, not even knocking. “You got a minute?”

“Sure, Ms Fischer. Come in. Si….”

I’d already sat in the wooden chair in front of his table. You couldn’t really call the room I’d moved him to an office. Half the space was taken up with boxes, a mix of plastic troughs and cardboard boxes piled up on top of each other, barring the doors of the big metal cabinet they were stacked in front of. And not one of them was touched. Not a single one.

“From what I can tell,” I started, my eyes trained on the aging man in front of me, “nothing much was taken. Other than that computer of yours.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“Not really, Dave.”

“Whatever information was on the hard drive is now gone with it. Who’d you think would want whatever was on that computer?”

Dave swallowed, reaching for the mug that sat in front of him, half of the coffee already drunk, the inside stained as dark as the remaining liquid.

“I didn’t use it much. Made a few posters with it, funeral itineraries, that sort of thing.”

“So, you would have no reason to take it?”

His eyes widened. Genuine shock. But I didn’t know whether that was at the accusation or that I was right about my suspicions.

“No! No. God no. Ms Fischer, I was at home last night. Not here breaking in.”

“Wife and kids can confirm that?”

“I don’t have any.”

He paused, waiting for me to catch up.

“I don’t have a wife or kids. My wife died years ago. We never could have children.”

That pang of guilt hit me hard in my stomach. But maybe that was what he wanted?

“So, the computer. Who else had access to it?”