Page 19 of Slack Tide Kill

"You've missed it all," Mayhew said.

"I'm afraid our systems are somewhat temperamental," Palmer said. "Maintenance on an old, highly specialized site like this is difficult. James and Elizabeth here spend half their man hours chasing ghost faults around the network, and often there are no solutions."

Sally just stared at the feed. The time stamp said 3:50 a.m. At least it gave them a more precise time for the delivery of the body. "Bring up the other feeds," she said.

Palmer gestured to the techs and they did it. All remained still but for the lapping tide, all hauntingly gray. Between them, they covered the entirety of the beach in front of the reactors. Sally ran the jigsaw pattern of their coverage through her mind, stitching together the edges so there was a single, unbroken panorama.

A panorama with a hole right in the middle.

"And none of the other cameras cut out?"

"Uh, that's correct," said Rowley. "They didn't."

Sally stepped closer, her hip touching the back of his chair. "Play them all. Fast forward. From 3:17 a.m."

He did. The feeds began to speed by. The white lines strobed rapidly down. There were occasional gray flashes; the shape of a seagull's wing, perhaps a bat, but nothing else. The time elapsed and Sally eased back on her heels.

"Nothing on either side. Nobody crossing the ambit of any camera." She paused, but nobody supplied the final step, so she provided it herself. "It means the body was brought in by boat."

Nobody spoke for a long few seconds. Sally turned to Palmer.

"Dr. Palmer. I understand you've had issues with your network. But we have to look into every possibility. Who would have access to override a feed like this?"

Palmer looked stunned. He turned to Mayhew, but the DCI offered nothing. She simply watched curiously. "Well, I–"

"It's a simple question," Sally pressed.

"I understand that. Well, James? Elizabeth?"

"We don't have the access to make any software-level changes," Elizabeth spoke up. "The only person I'm aware of who has that kind of admin control is the reactor director."

She looked squarely at Palmer.

"Well," he said, squirming now. "I can assure you, I made no such alteration."

Sally studied him. He seemed to be telling the truth. His panic seemed genuine, and it would be a foolhardy move by him, to alter the footage when he was the only one with direct access.

But then…

"What about analog access?" she asked, giving him an out. "A physical interruption?"

"Ah well," Palmer began, "I'm sure that could've been physically manipulated? Someone could have, perhaps, hot-wired the feed?"

Rowley made a face. Sally interpreted that to mean Palmer was spit balling.

"What about a maintenance company?" she asked. "I know of one company, Reactor Logistics, which has serviced this facility for years. It may still be operating here, for all I know, though the original company director, one Reginald Rook, is deceased."

She caught a reaction from Mayhew, a narrowing of her eyes, maybe, before Palmer answered.

"I, ah… That would be a matter we'd have to look into, I think?"

"You don't know all the people working at your reactor, Dr. Palmer?"

"That is a complicated question." He drew himself up. "At any point there are at least 100 workers on site. Many are from smaller, but highly vetted and trusted, specialist service providers. All go through stringent security and psychological tests. I don't think that–"

"The exact camera we need is out at the exact time we need it. Are you saying that's purely a coincidence?"

"Rogers," warned Mayhew. "Climb down."