the other Son

Chapter 8

He was stuck in front of the computer the rest of the day, either annoying the secretary at Myers & Myers or digging through Martin Guttman's life – his career had been the most notable thing, everything else was painfully ordinary. Even his meetings with escorts appeared like something a married husband with kids would indulge in once in a while. Lesza made a note to question Mrs Guttman about that once she came down to the station for an official testimony.

A knock on the frame of the open door roused him from his stupor.

"DI Beran?" the young man asked, eyes flitting warily through the cramped room.

"Yes?"

"DC Begbie, Sir. I was assigned to your case."

Lesza couldn't help but regard the young man – boy, really – with an equal amount of wariness. Of course they'd send him the Constable who looked to be fresh out of school and had grown a total of three beard hairs so far.

Overlooking his concerns, Lesza rose from his seat and shook hands with the young Constable. "Welcome." Begbie's hand had as much life as a cold, dead fish. "We are glad to have you onboard. DS Fraser will show you where you can support us."

Sorcha rose from her chair with a quiet sigh and her smile must've been painful by how forced it looked. Lesza was sure she would get her sweet revenge on him for leaving the newbie to her.

They'd used the whiteboard on the wall behind Lesza to gather any information they had so far and jot down open questions – and steps to find answers, for example speaking with an expert for the local currents to narrow down the places where the victim could've been dumped into the water for the body to end up at Land's End. Finding the actual crime scene had the utmost priority at the moment or else they would loose a ton of traces – DNA, fibers and possible witnesses.

Despite doubting his success Lesza submitted a request to the prosecutor for a search warrant for Guttman's office at Myers & Myers. The law firm would fight tooth and nail to keep curious noses out of their business and their reputation had enough weight to make the prosecutor hesitate before trampling all over their toes.

Feeling reckless, Lesza also sent an official request to Myers & Myers for any of Guttman's colleagues to testify when and where they had seen him last on Tuesday – he didn't believe any of those lawyers would come forward voluntarily but it was worth a try.

Sorcha waltzed back into their office and fell heavily into her chair. "That lad is like an almost empty battery – somehow working but no energy whatsoever."

Lesza glanced at her from behind his screen. "Did Graham say anything?"

Her smile was bitter as she answered, "His usual bullshit. Sexism at its finest." She waved her hand dismissively when Lesza opened his mouth. "Don't worry, I can handle it. Anyways, Begbie is looking into the complaint from that escort. I told him to see if there's any relatives or former boyfriend who might've felt the sudden urge to punish the victim."

"Good, good," Lesza mumbled and ticked off the corresponding line of their list on the whiteboard. The amount of open questions was overwhelming and he hadn't worked on a case where so many puzzle pieces were missing in a long time. So much blank space and not one possible lead. Suddenly, he felt incredibly tired.

"Would you mind checking in with the lab to see if they have any results for the samples Frandsen sent them?"

"I'm on it." Sorcha picked up the phone and clamped it between ear and shoulder while flicking through the file for the coroner's report.

Lesza ran a hand over his face and surrendered to his fate – he needed coffee, now, even if that meant drinking the slop from the machine down the hall and risking poisoning.