To Anderson’s eyes and ears, Boston was something of an enigma. His confusion had started once he had reached the outskirts and read some of the shop signs, only to increase when he heard the languages being spoken in the town centre: mostly Polish, but also Portuguese, even perhaps Russian and Romanian. In terms of a cosmopolitan mix, this was more like a major city than what he had imagined was a sleepy Lincolnshire town, and it certainly wasn’t obvious whether the Brexit vote had had a significant impact.
It was a thought he put on hold as a text came through from Devereau, confirming that he wouldn’t be back from New York until the Wednesday and detailing a job in Bristol. Anderson kept his reply deliberately vague, merely stating that he was pursuing a new lead and he needed two more days.
Two more days – time enough to satisfy his own conscience and feel he’d done his best. He was tentatively assuming Saunders and Westrope were somehow working together, but he had no supporting evidence and no idea what they might actually be working on. It was simple intuition, backed up by a mix of conjecture and optimism. Saunders wasn’t stupid, if there had been something fishy going on at Erdenheim or with McDowell, he would have called the police. And what better way to draw attention than by murdering two people. Despite every objection common-sense threw at Anderson, he couldn’t just drop it, and his two-day deadline seemed a fair compromise.
The Commander’s book had proved typically unhelpful, Anderson’s hope that the American author was somehow important immediately dashed, it three years since Zhilin had died from cancer. A scan through of its four hundred plus pages had revealed nothing worthwhile, no notes in the margin or sentences underlined, not even a corner turned over; Anderson even had to tease a good few of the pages apart.
Despite a sudden spattering of rain, Anderson paused at the centre of the Town Bridge to check the map and get his bearings. He might be struggling to come up with anything convincing but he wasn’t yet out of ideas, a Geoff Shaw the next on his rapidly diminishing list of contacts.