‘She did, aye. I understand I can’t see the original?’
‘Sorry. No one’s seen it yet.’
Carroll opened his own file and removed a sheet of paper. The language was in Dutch but there were enough pictures for Poe to recognise it had been taken from the website of a kite supplier in Rotterdam.
‘I think the kite you’re looking at is a Mirage Stunt Kite. Probably the XL model.’
The kite was V-shaped, a bit like a stealth bomber or a hang-glider. The colours matched the ones in Poe’s photographs. Despite the page being in a language he didn’t understand, he recognised dimensions when he saw them. Fully assembled, the kite had a wingspan of ten feet. He’d thought it was big but not that big. If that thing caught a strong gust of wind it looked like it could rip someone’s arm off. Perhaps competitive kite flying wasn’t as nerdy as he’d thought … It also explained the massive muscles on Carroll. He wondered how Bradshaw’s friend, Jeremy, managed it – Poe had seen him reach for his inhaler after walking to the fridge.
The other thing Poe had no trouble translating was the price tag: three hundred and fifty euros. With the pound doing what it was, that meant it was over three hundred quid. A lot of money to leave flapping about in a tree.
Carroll put the website page and one of Poe’s photographs side-by-side.
‘See how the carbon frame matches here’ – he pointed at the top of the kite – ‘and here’ – pointing at a wing.
Poe nodded. ‘This is the one. What can you tell us about it?’
‘Just the basics. I don’t have the funds for something like this. It’s a bit slower than other stunt kites, which means you have more control. It can fly in winds up to thirty miles per hour. One hundred and fifteen-foot dual Dyneema line, straight-tracking with a highly responsive—’
‘Dyneema?’ Poe cut in.
‘It’s an ultra-high molecular weight polyethylene, Poe,’ Bradshaw said. ‘It has extremely strong intermolecular interactions because its long chains have a molecular mass of between 3.5 and 7.5 million AMUs.’
Poe looked at her blankly.
‘I guess she’s the brains of the outfit, huh?’ Carroll said.
‘That’s a peculiarly specific thing to know a lot about, Tilly,’ Poe said.
‘I researched kites last night. Didn’t you read the document I sent you?’
‘I think you already know the answer to that.’ He’d skimmed it without really understanding it. Instead, he’d focused on the type of people who flew kites. What clubs they went to, what competitions they entered. It was why he hadn’t been surprised that Carroll’s printed webpage was in Dutch. Kites were a huge deal over there.
Cost aside, the other interesting aspect about the Mirage Stunt Kite XL was that the golden logos weren’t pre-printed on the wings. Poe reckoned the kite’s owner had probably added them.
‘What do you know about logos, Sean?’ Poe asked.
Instead of answering, Carroll led them to the back of his van and unlocked the doors. A kite rested on the bare metal floor. It wasn’t the stealth bomber shape of the Mirage; instead it seemed a bit limp and lifeless.
‘This is what’s called a foil design. It doesn’t have the rigid frame of the Mirage and it’ll only take form when air enters it via the front edge vents. When it’s in the sky it looks like a modern parachute instead of a hang-glider.’
He pointed at one of the logos imprinted on the nylon. ‘That’s what I fly under.’
It was an anthropomorphic magpie. It wore a black and white waistcoat, a black and white top hat and a bright blue morning coat. Black trousers, yellow shoes and a walking cane completed the image.
Poe wasn’t a massive football fan any more – the money involved these days had sucked the charm from the game – but he recognised Newcastle United’s mascot when he saw it.
‘This is bespoke, I assume?’
Carroll shrugged. ‘Aye, sort of. The design isn’t my own – I lifted it from the Toon’s website – but as far as I know, I’m the only one flying it.’
‘Did you have to register it anywhere?’
‘Nope.’
‘So there’s nothing we can check our images against?’
He shook his head. ‘Kite flying’s not really taken off in the UK. Not like it has in other countries.’