Free Vacuum by Bill James

certainly a point,’ Iles said.
    Harpur said: ‘How did you know about the call, Ralph?’
    â€˜Harpur sticks to a query,’ Iles said. ‘It’s what got him to where he is. Many would admire the tenacity. I esteem him, even though, as you’ll probably have heard, he deceitfully, lecherously—’
    â€˜You’ve got a stipended voice that talks to you from inside our building, have you, Ralph?’ Harpur said.

SIX
    T he search split into three units: one downstairs, one up, one in the outbuildings. None found anything linked to the murders of Naomi Shale and the boy Laurent. Garland closed the operation at just before seven thirty a.m.
    Standing in the doorway of Low Pastures, Margaret Ember yelled at the departing police vehicles: ‘This was victimization. This was oppression. This was and is persecution!’
    Iles nodded. At Margaret Ember’s side, Ralph patted her gently on the shoulder, as if attempting to bring some calm. He looked vindicated, Hestonized, solid, grandly imperturbable. For the moment Harpur could not have connected him with that dismissive, earned nickname, Panicking Ralphy.
    Margaret Ember had patrolled vigorously while the pry was under way, fixing herself for a while to each of the ferreting groups, then switching abruptly to another, then to the other, trying to catch one or more of them at some trickery. Garland had wanted her to be restricted to the Low Pastures hall, but the ACC overruled this. Although Iles might not be Gold tonight, he was Iles. Guidance came as diktat from him. ‘It’s her and Ralph’s property, Francis. They must be able to move about in it, if they wish. They have affinities with and love these exposed beams, bare stone walls and showy, farcical fat-tomed library. Besides, I’m sure we’ve nothing to conceal, have we? An examination of our activities will prove them wholesome and well intentioned.’
    Despite Margaret Ember’s obvious hostility and rage, Harpur sensed she might wish to talk to him privately. Once, she had seemed about to approach, but Iles was near Harpur, exhaustively describing a Home Office administrator he considered shit; Iles considered most Home Office administrators shit, but this one exceptionally so, and therefore needing his character and appearance very thoroughly drawn. Margaret probably feared the ACC’s involvement. Some people preferred life without Iles’s involvement. He would not have been able to get his head around this, but it was true.
    A while ago, Margaret Ember had come to see Harpur and discuss her intention to walk out on Ralph with the children. Harpur hadn’t felt able to help her much, but he’d listened, sympathized. Although she did her flit, she returned after only several days. Was she thinking again about a dash, perhaps staying away permanently this time? Would something like the humiliating, irreverent, swarming, first-blush search of her home shove her towards a new escape plan? Such resentment might be coupled with alarm that Ralph, and therefore his family, could be vengeance targets following the Shale deaths. Did she need to talk about it again to somebody, somebody like Harpur? She didn’t come to speak with him, though, so it was impossible to know as a certainty.
    Iles and Harpur would go back to the debriefing at headquarters in an unmarked Peugeot from the pool. They walked towards the car. Harpur said: ‘This could be a very difficult one for you, sir.’
    â€˜In which respect, Col?’
    â€˜Obviously, when the Chief hears Garland’s report on the circumstances – Ember fully dressed and ready for us, then a wholly efficient, utterly useless, comb of the property  . . . Yes, when Sir Matthew hears this he’s going to think you tipped Ember off about the raid so he could get rid of anything awkward.’
    Iles sounded bored by the obviousness of this. ‘Oh, that – of course,