A Philosophical Investigation: A Novel by Philip Kerr

rectangular-shaped lights. And although it was equally modern in its origin, the furniture had a slightly classical air about it, all plinths, cross-beams and arches, as if having once belonged to some mediaeval Greek philosopher, an effect which was enhanced by some enormous leather-bound books which lay on the floor like a pile of paving slabs. A free-standing bookcase that was the size and shape of a pagan family shrine occupied each of the room’s seven corners. Another man was already seated at the refectory-sized table. He stood up as they came into the office and Gleitmann introduced him as Doctor Stephen St Pierre. The computer man, Jake said to herself, noting only that he seemed nervous.
    Gleitmann offered them coffee. Yat Chung announced that he would prefer tea and then avoided his superior’s eye as she tried to glare balefully at him.
    They seated themselves at Gleitmann’s table, with Yat Chung several places away from the other three, almost as if he didn’t wish to be part of the meeting. But Jake noticed his renewed interest in being there when Gleitmann’s secretary, a beautiful Chinese, arrived bearing a tray of refreshments, which included Yat’s tea. She watched the sergeant’s eyes following the girl out of the door and approved of his taste. The girl was worth the look.
    ‘I’ve been told by the Home Office people that I’m to extend you every facility,’ Gleitmann stated with apparent discomfort.
    ‘If you wouldn’t mind,’ Jake said politely. Whether you mind or not, she said to herself.
    Gleitmann stretched his lower lip against a perfect row of teeth and then bit it. ‘Mark Woodford mentioned something about everyone having to take a polygraph.’
    ‘That’s right. Detective Sergeant Jones from my investigating team will be handling that part of the inquiry. But I’d like him to carry out the tests as quickly as possible.’ She opened her bag, took out a packet of sweeteners and then added one to her coffee. ‘When can I tell him to bring his equipment?’
    She saw Gleitmann exchange a brief look with St Pierre, who shook his head and then shrugged.
    ‘Whenever you like, Chief Inspector,’ Gleitmann sighed. ‘If you think it’s really necessary.’
    ‘I do,’ Jake said firmly. ‘Tell me something, Professor: are you still carrying out testing within the context of the Lombroso Program?’
    ‘I’ve certainly had no instructions to say that I should stop.’ He tapped the ends of his long fingers together as if waiting to be contradicted. Jake said nothing. ‘That is correct, isn’t it? There has been no order from the Home Office telling us to stop.’
    Jake noticed the way a singular had been transformed into a plural. This was an obvious sign of weakness and she decided to take advantage of it.
    ‘It’s hardly a question of needing an order, surely,’ she said. ‘Under the circumstances I should have thought that you yourself might wish to call a halt to the Program. At least until Detective Sergeant Chung has had a chance to determine the origin of the security breach.’
    ‘I can’t see how that would help.’ This was Doctor St Pierre. ‘I think we have to assume that the killer is already possessed of all the information he or she requires.’
    ‘In my experience, it’s safer not to assume anything with this type of killer,’ said Jake, glancing negligently at her fingernails. ‘But if there are any assumptions to be made, Doctor, I’ll make them, if you don’t mind.’
    ‘But surely, Chief Inspector, stopping the Program now would be a case of shutting the stable door - ’
    Chung frowned, uncomprehending, as Gleitmann neglected to complete the saying.
    ‘Your assumption is that the killer’s familiarity with the Lombroso Program data is not current. I don’t think that it’s valid to decide that he, or she (although I believe that we are dealing with a man), no longer has access to the system, albeit unauthorised access. Until we know how