‘Recognise the language?’
Garth took it, showed it to Lorne who shook his head and passed it back.
‘Flemish,’ Fred told them. ‘Netherlands dialect spoken in Belgium. Don’t really speak it but I recognise a few words- enough to know it for what it is.’
Garth regarded Lorne wryly. ‘And I actually listened to you and quit my job hoping to get away from all this. What say we give Security a call and see if they want to take over for us.’
Lorne dialled the number and handed Garth his mobile.
With a grimace, Garth took the phone. ‘Wanker! Hello, Robert? No, I wasn’t talking to you. Yes, it’s me, Garth. Look, we’ve just got ourselves a little problem . . .’
Lorne was just beginning to wonder how long his mobile’s batteries would hold out when Garth handed the phone back.
‘I’ve just been told to keep the investigation going and to not mention it’s connexion with the Big One. What do you suppose that means?’
‘Bloody hell! It’s still active!’
‘Exactly.’
Lorne puffed out his cheeks. ‘Wonderful. Well, what exactly do they want from us?’