The screen filled with images of the man who began his working life with no qualifications and barely any desire to do more than sleep and watch television. Harold remembered the first time he'd met Jimmy Hunt, then an apprentice lathe operator and sidekick to Winston Campbell. Both men had been changed by their encounter with the djinn Elias. For the better, Harold had thought at the time. Now he wasn't so sure. Jim had a thirst for power these days that put him at odds with the rest of the world, if only they knew it.
“Stop.” Dill spoke into the microphones again. “Search negative internet.”
“What's a negative internet? I've never heard of that.” Harold drew closer as the screen filled with photographs and blurry images of their quarry. “Is that where the things that aren't on the internet go? Things like What Lucy did with my spare car keys last week?”
“What? No.” Even in dough, Dill's frown was like a crevasse. “It's a search term. It means 'exclude the internet from the search parameter.' In this case we're looking at footage caught on CCTV cameras, traffic cameras..>” He pointed to one image of Jim at a newspaper-covered counter. “That's Mr Patel's shop on Park Road. Looks like Hunt was buying cigarettes.”
“How does this help us?”
Dill spoke into the microphone again. “Sort chronologically.” The images shifted into a series reminiscent of Duchamp's Nu descendant un escalier n° 2 which showed Hunt leaving Magelight and driving home via the newsagent's. Dill pointed to the last image. “He's in the pub.”