“I shouldn't think so, sir.” It was an instant decision not to tell Beamish what Orias represented. He didn't want to think of what a loss it was to the justice system. Imagine all the cases they could close with that kind of investigative power.
“But...” Peters waggled his eyebrows.
“But me no buts, sergeant.” He looked at his superior again. “If that'll be all then, sir, I have an ongoing case to investigate.”
“What?” Beamish looked confused for a moment. “Right, yes, of you go, Detective-inspector.”
“Thank you sir.” White hurried away before he changed his mind, slipping past the crowd with a few 'no comment' replies. He slid into his car and waited for Peters to catch up.
“Why did you tell him that, sir?” Peters slid into the passenger seat. “That computer was the single most important piece of equipment I've seen in years.”
“I agree, but what's the point of telling Beamish that? One he wouldn't have believed me and two, if he did, he'd take over that investigation as well.” He buckled his seatbelt and started the engine. “Besides, once one is built the concept is in the collective unconsciousness. There'll be another in a year or two and then hundreds after that.”
“I can't say I really relish the prospect, sir. I don't like the idea of someone being able to spy on everything I do.”
“They already can, sergeant.” White pulled away from the kerb, the house and the crowd of rubberneckers. “The US has their own version of it already and so does MI5. We maintain a DNA database of everyone arrested for the most minor offence and track every piece of electronic communication. Orias was just a matter of time. If they hadn't gone missing, those lads would be millionaires.”