The Exodus Quest

III

Peterson hurried in from the balcony, aghast that Knox had once again escaped justice. The Devil was working overtime today. The laptop was still open on the kitchen table, reminding Peterson of the urgent need to destroy all Knox's photographs of his site.

There were two browsers open, one showing a photo of a dark-haired young woman with two Egyptian men in galabayas, the other an email from a certain Gaille Bonnard, perhaps the woman in the photo. He scanned it quickly, assimilated the implication that she had a set of Knox's photographs. He sat down, typed out a reply. Dear Gaille, thanks for these. They're terrific. One more thing. Delete all copies, including the originals. Can't explain now. I'll call later. But please do as I say. Delete everything as soon as possible! Before calling me even. Very, very important. Can't stress it too much.

All love, Daniel. A makeshift solution, but it would have to do. He sent it on its way then deleted her email from Knox's hotmail account, consigning it and all its attachments into oblivion. He was no computer expert, but he'd heard stories about sodomites and other abominators being trapped by images recovered from their hard disks even after they'd thought them deleted. He couldn't risk anyone recovering these, so he unplugged the laptop from its various connections, tucked it under his arm and hurried out.