Bryant & May 01; Full Dark House

∨ Full Dark House ∧

16

OFF THE RADAR

Janice Longbright was seated on a stack of Tampax boxes trying to type with two fingers. Outside, on the steps of Kentish Town police station, a gang of teenagers were screaming at each other. The former detective sergeant forced herself to block out the noise and concentrate. With the Mornington Crescent offices blown to smithereens, the unit’s surviving personnel had been evacuated to the nearest annexe, but with the force on full alert, no chairs or desks were available for them to work from. The Tampax boxes had been found in the boot of a boy’s car, cushioning a number of rifles and stolen army pistols, and made a passably comfortable seat.

The sounds in the street were becoming more confrontational. Longbright looked around the overcrowded office at men and women barking into phones, and was unsurprised that no one had the energy to go outside and stop the fight before someone got hurt. The gang members would be at each other again the second the police departed. Trying to help them was like sticking a plaster on a cut throat.

With John May still off on leave, Longbright had reluctantly agreed to return to the unit for a few weeks. Balancing the telephone on her knee, she tried Sam Biddle’s number. This time she got through to him. The Home Office’s new police liaison officer was supposed to be providing them with relocation plans and news of emergency funding, but was proving evasive.

“I can’t give you anything concrete at the moment,” he insisted. “There are too many other priorities.”

“So I keep being told,” replied Longbright impatiently. “Presumably we all have to be firebombed before we get your attention.”

“We have to make sure the police can protect civilians first. Yesterday we had tourists getting caught in crossfire at Stockwell tube station. Once this situation is under control we can take a look at the unit’s future.”

“What’s happening in this city isn’t a ‘situation’, it’s an epidemic, things are out of control. And who said the unit’s future was in question?”

“Your building is gone, Longbright.”

“We still have our staff.”

“No, you have one of your two directors left alive, and he’s beyond retirement age.”

“We have DuCaine and the other new recruits.” Longbright was stung by Biddle’s reversal of attitude. Only days ago he had been talking about recruiting amateurs, in accordance with the Scarman Centre’s findings.

“The minister’s position on this is that Mr Bryant was caught up in some kind of internecine feud that resulted in his demise. We don’t have the manpower or the money to investigate all of the surrounding circumstances. Obviously what happened is unfortunate, but it’s our position that Bryant was acting alone and knew the hazards of doing so. We’re concerned about the dangers to the public posed by the collapse of the building, but as mishaps go these days, it’s pretty much off our radar.”

“Your grandfather was a great friend of Arthur Bryant’s. He would be ashamed of you now, Mr Biddle.” Longbright slammed down the receiver just as the stack of boxes slid away beneath her.

To calm herself she went to her car for a cigarette. A young girl with a sharp face and scraped-back blond hair challenged her.

“This your motor? You gonna give me a tenner for saving your stereo?” Her hands were thrust defiantly into the cheap cotton of her jacket. Longbright presumed she was carrying a knife. “I’m a police officer. Fuck off before I arrest you.”

“You can’t arrest me, bitch.” The girl stuck out her chin. She was all of fifteen. Longbright knew without looking that she had track marks on the backs of her legs.

“I’ll think of a reason if I have to.” Longbright moved her aside and climbed into the car, quickly locking the door. She watched the girl walk back to her mates, feeling almost sorry for her.

A cigarette soothed her nerves. She exhaled smoke and sat back in the seat as sirens started up in the police station car park. Poor John, she thought. Wherever he is, he’ll have to figure this one out by himself.