Peter is a policeman at a transition point in his life. He does something wrong, very wrong, but probably life improving for him. This is not a who dunnit. This is a how and why dunnit including did they get away with it. Only the crime methods have been changed to protect the greedy.
The style is possibly John Le Carre confronts Kafka with a side order of humour?
The morning found me out of uniform and by the canal. The underwater search team were too expensive for a wild thought and who would I ask for the money? If I was wrong I wanted to be wrong in private. One extending pole from my ceiling paint roller and the head off the lawn rake made a more discreet search team. Canals are surprisingly shallow and the stretch behind the old warehouse wasn’t too much of a rubbish tip, though the path did smell like a public toilet. If asked I was going to be a research biologist studying invasive species of plants but the canal was completely deserted. After about an hour I found it. A Walkman with the headphones still plugged in. I carefully bagged it and phoned in. I wanted a witness to the location now I knew I wasn’t a fool. The copper they sent was just surprised to see me working on my day off.
I had planned some routine work for the morning but the phone rang before I’d even logged on. Laura, the receptionist, sounded very formal. The assistant chief constable wanted to see me and I was to go to his office straight away. Called to the headmaster’s office. I must put a book down my trousers.
The A.C.C. had a guest with him when I entered. Not a policeman and he was treating him as an equal. Hand stitched lapels on his suit.
“Have you read the forensic report on your find from yesterday?”
“No sir. I wasn’t expecting a result this quickly.”
“It seems your private enterprise was an inspiration to many, a bringer of kudos to the headquarters staff and an irritation to everybody.”
The visitor passed a folder to me, presumably the forensic report, and then removed the necessity for me to read it.