Hidden in Plain Sight

3

‘Congratulations, sarge,’ said Jackie, joining him at the bar. She had drawn the short straw and only drank a single shandy that night, as she would be driving the newly promoted detective sergeant home. She’d already warned Beth that it wouldn’t be much before midnight.

‘Thanks,’ William replied, after he’d drained his fourth pint.

‘Not that anyone was surprised.’

‘Except my father.’

‘Time, gentlemen, please,’ said the landlord firmly, not least because most of his customers were coppers. Although in truth, once the civilians had departed, they would often enjoy a lock-in, when the landlord would continue to serve the boys and girls in blue. There was at least one pub in every division that had a similar arrangement, which not only added to the publican’s profits, but meant he had no fear of prosecution. However, Jackie still felt it was time for William to leave.

‘As you’ve clearly had one too many,’ she said, ‘the boss has recommended that I take you home.’

‘But it’s my celebration party,’ William protested. ‘And I’ll let you into a secret, Jackie. I’ve never been this drunk before.’

‘Why am I not surprised? All the more reason for me to drive you home. It would be a pity if you were demoted the day after you’d been promoted. Although it would mean I’d probably get your job.’

‘My father warned me to watch out for women like you,’ said William, as she took him by the arm and led him unsteadily out of the pub to cries of goodnight sarge, Choirboy, and even commissioner, without any suggestion of irony or sarcasm.

‘Don’t expect me to call you sir and kiss your arse until you’re at least a chief inspector.’

‘Do you know where the expression “kiss my arse” comes from?’

‘No idea. But why do I have a feeling you’re about to tell me?’

‘The Duc de Vendôme, a seventeenth-century French aristocrat, used to receive his courtiers even when he was sitting on the loo, and after he’d wiped his bottom, one of them rushed forward and kissed it, saying, “Oh noble one, you have the arse of an angel.”’

‘Much as I’d like to be reinstated as a sergeant,’ said Jackie, ‘I wouldn’t be willing to go that far.’

‘As long as you don’t call me Bill,’ said William, as he slumped back in the passenger seat.

Jackie drove out of the car park onto Victoria Street and headed for Pimlico as William closed his eyes. Only a year ago, when Constable Warwick had first joined the team, she had been a detective sergeant, perched firmly on the second rung of the ladder. But now, following the Operation Blue Period fiasco, and the successful return of the Rembrandt to the Fitzmolean, their positions were reversed. Jackie didn’t complain — she was happy to still be part of the commander’s inner team. William began to snore. When Jackie turned the corner she spotted him immediately.

‘It’s Tulip!’ she said suddenly, throwing on the brakes and startling William out of his slumber.

‘Tulip?’ he said, as his eyes tried to focus.

‘I first arrested him when he was still at school,’ said Jackie, as she jumped out of the car. William could only make out her blurred figure running across the road towards an unlit alley where a young black man carrying a Tesco shopping bag was passing something to another man, whose face was well hidden in the shadows.

Suddenly William was wide awake, adrenalin replacing alcohol. He leapt out of the car and followed Jackie, accompanied by the sound of several car horns as he nipped in and out of the traffic. Horns that warned Tulip he’d been spotted. He immediately sped off down the alley.

William ran past Jackie, who was handcuffing the other man. But he already knew this wasn’t going to be the night for overtaking someone about the same age as himself. Street dealers rarely drink, and few of them take drugs, because they know it could cost them their job. Even before Tulip turned the corner, leapt on a black Yamaha motorbike, and roared away, William had accepted that he wasn’t going to catch him. He reluctantly came to a halt at the end of the passageway, steadied himself against a lamppost, bent down and was violently sick all over the pavement.

‘Disgusting,’ muttered an elderly gentleman, as he hurried by.

William was only relieved he wasn’t in uniform. He eventually straightened himself up and made his way slowly back down the alley, to find Jackie reading the prisoner his rights. William followed them unsteadily across the road, and managed on a second attempt to open the rear door of the car, allowing Jackie to shove the prisoner onto the back seat.

William joined her in the front, and tried not to be sick again as the car swung around and headed for the nearest police station. Jackie knew the location of London nicks the way cab drivers know hotels. She came to a halt at the back of Rochester Row police station, grabbed her charge and was escorting him towards the custody area before William had even got out of the car.

Some prisoners scream in protest, letting out a stream of invective that would turn the night air purple, while others are spoiling for a fight and need a couple of burly coppers to keep them under control. But the majority meekly bow their heads and say nothing. William was relieved that this one clearly fell into the bowed-head category. But he’d learnt after only a few weeks on the job that while users are often ashamed, dealers never are.

The custody sergeant looked up as the three of them approached the desk. Jackie produced her warrant card and told him why she had arrested the prisoner, and about his lack of cooperation after he’d been cautioned. The sergeant took a custody record and a property sheet from below the counter, so he could take down the prisoner’s details before he was placed in a cell overnight. After he’d entered the words two wraps of white powder, he turned to the prisoner and said, ‘Right, lad, let’s start with your full name.’

The prisoner remained resolutely silent.

‘I’ll ask you once again. What’s your name?’

The prisoner continued to stare defiantly across the counter at his interrogator, but still said nothing.

‘This is the last time I’m going to ask you. What’s—’

‘I know his name,’ said William.

‘And you still remembered him, after all these years?’ said Beth, as he climbed into bed later that night.

‘You never forget the first crime you solve,’ William replied. ‘I was responsible for Adrian Heath being expelled from our prep school after I proved he’d been stealing Mars bars from the tuck shop. So no one was surprised when I joined the police force, though some of his friends never forgave me. I wasn’t Choirboy then, just a sneak.’

‘I feel rather sorry for him,’ said Beth, as she turned off the bedside light.

‘Why?’ asked William. ‘He’s obviously gone from bad to worse, just as my father predicted he would.’

‘It’s not like you to be so judgemental,’ said Beth. ‘I’d like to know what happened during the years after you lost contact with him, before I jump to any rash conclusions.’

‘I’m unlikely to find out, as Lamont’s almost certain to take me off the case.’

‘Why would he do that, when you might be the one person Adrian would be willing to talk to?’

‘You can’t afford to become personally involved with a suspect,’ William said. ‘It’s a golden rule for any police officer.’

‘Didn’t stop you getting personally involved with Christina Faulkner,’ said Beth, as she turned away from him.

William didn’t respond. He still hadn’t told Beth that Christina had been in touch with him again.

‘I’m sorry,’ Beth whispered, turning back towards William and kissing the jagged red scar that had never quite faded, physically or mentally. ‘If you hadn’t turned her into a friend, we might never have got the Rembrandt back. Which reminds me, we’ve got a fundraiser at the gallery tomorrow night, and although your attendance isn’t compulsory, I’d like you to come. Not least because some of the older ladies rather fancy you.’

‘What about the younger ones?’

‘They’ve all been banned,’ said Beth, as she settled into his arms. A few moments later she’d fallen asleep.

William lay awake for some time, and tried not to think about what had happened that night in Monte Carlo. And now the boss wanted him to see Christina again. Would he ever be free of her? She’d lied about everything else, and if Beth ever asked her, would she also lie about what had taken place after she’d crept into bed with him?

‘So you and the suspect were at school together, detective sergeant?’ said Lamont after William had briefed the superintendent on what had happened after he and Jackie had left his celebration party the night before.

‘Prep school,’ said William. ‘Adrian Heath was among my closest friends at the time. So I presume I’ll be taken off the case and DC Roycroft will handle it.’

‘No way. This is exactly the kind of opportunity the Hawk has been looking for. We might even have a chance of getting on the inside track if you’re able to turn your friend into a snout.’

‘But we couldn’t have parted on worse terms,’ William reminded him. ‘Don’t forget, I was responsible for him being expelled.’

‘He’ll still feel safer with you than with Jackie, or any other copper for that matter.’ William didn’t offer an opinion. ‘I want you to return to Rochester Row nick right now and turn Heath back into your best friend. And I don’t care how you do it.’

‘Yes, sir,’ said William, although he still wasn’t convinced.

‘And while we’re on the subject of friends, have you returned Mrs Faulkner’s call?’

‘Not yet, sir,’ admitted William.

‘Then get on with it. And don’t report back until both of them are on your Christmas card list.’

‘Christina?’

‘Who is this?’

‘William Warwick, returning your call.’

‘I thought you’d forgotten me,’ she said, with a friendly laugh.

‘That’s hardly likely, considering what happened the last time we met.’

‘Perhaps we should meet again. I might have something to tell you of mutual interest.’

‘Lunch at the Ritz?’ suggested William hopefully.

‘Not this time,’ said Christina, ‘because we wouldn’t have ordered our first course before my husband had been informed I was having lunch with the young detective who’d arrested him. It had better be somewhere more discreet this time.’

‘How about the Science Museum?’

‘I haven’t been there since I was a child, but what a good idea. I have to be in town next Thursday, so why don’t we meet outside the main entrance at eleven?’

‘Not outside the entrance,’ said William. ‘Someone might recognize one of us. I’ll meet you by Stephenson’s Rocket on the ground floor.’

‘Can’t wait,’ she said, before the phone went dead.

William wrote a report of his conversation with Mrs Faulkner and dropped it on Lamont’s desk before leaving the office and heading for Strutton Ground. During the short walk, he rehearsed several questions he would put to Adrian Heath, although he wasn’t convinced that they would elicit any answers if last night was anything to go by. A few minutes later he was standing outside Rochester Row nick. When he showed the desk sergeant his warrant card, the older man couldn’t hide his surprise.

‘I’d like to interview Adrian Heath, the prisoner we brought in last night,’ said William.

‘Be my guest. He’s in number two,’ said the sergeant, filling in an empty box on the custody record. ‘Refused breakfast this morning. We might get him in front of the magistrate later this afternoon, so he’s not going anywhere fast.’

‘That’s good, because I was hoping to have an intel chat with him unconnected with the offence he’s been arrested for.’

‘Fine, but keep me briefed, so all the paperwork’s in order.’

‘Will do,’ said William, as the desk sergeant handed him a large key and said, ‘He’s all yours.’

William took the key, walked along the corridor and stopped in front of cell No. 2. He peered through the grille to see Adrian lying down, a glazed expression on his face, and looking as if he hadn’t moved since last night. He turned the key in the lock, pulled open the heavy door and walked in. Adrian opened his eyes, looked up and said, ‘This place isn’t much better than our old prep school.’

William laughed as he sat down next to him on the thin, urine-stained mattress. I’m innocent, had been scratched on the wall above Adrian’s head by a previous prisoner.

‘I’d offer you tea and biscuits,’ said Adrian, ‘but I’m afraid room service isn’t that reliable.’

‘I see you haven’t lost your sense of humour,’ said William.

‘Nor you your quest to be Sir Galahad. So, have you come to rescue me, or to lock me up for the rest of my life?’

‘Neither. But I might be able to help you if you felt willing to cooperate.’

‘What would you expect in return? Because I’ve never believed in the old boys’ network.’

‘Me neither,’ said William. ‘But I might have something to offer that could prove mutually beneficial.’

‘You’re going to supply me with drugs for the rest of my life?’

‘You know that’s not going to happen, Adrian. But I could ask the magistrate to be lenient when your case comes up this afternoon, despite this not being your first appearance in the dock.’

‘That’s not much of an offer. I’ll probably only get six months anyway, and there are worse places to be than holed up in your own cell with a TV, central heating, and three meals a day, not to mention a ready supply of drugs.’

‘As this is your third offence, you’re more likely to be spending Christmas sharing a cell in Pentonville with a murderer, which might not be quite so much fun.’

‘Come on then, Choirboy, surprise me.’

It was William who was surprised. ‘Choirboy,’ he repeated.

‘That’s what my old friend Sergeant Roycroft called you last night. A great improvement on Sherlock, I thought.’

William tried to regain the initiative. ‘As you clearly know what I’ve been up to since we last met, how about you?’

Adrian stared up at the ceiling for a long time, as if his interrogator wasn’t there. An old con’s trick, William knew. He was about to give up and leave when suddenly a torrent of words came flooding out.

‘After my expulsion from Somerton, thanks to you, my old man used his influence to get me into one of the minor public schools. They were willing to turn a blind eye whenever I needed a quick drag behind the bicycle shed, but they drew the line when I moved on to cannabis. Can’t say I blame them.’ He paused, but still didn’t look at William, who had taken out his pocket book and begun to make notes.

‘After that my father sent me to a crammer, and I somehow got offered a place at a university a long way from home. Heaven knows how much the old man had to stump up for that little favour.’ Another long pause. ‘Unfortunately, I didn’t get beyond my freshman year after one of the post grads introduced me to heroin. It wasn’t too long before I was hooked, and spent most days in bed, and most nights wondering how I’d get my next fix. After I was rusticated, my tutor told me I could resume my studies if I kicked the habit, so my father sent me off to one of those rehab centres that are full of do-gooders who want to save your soul. Frankly, my soul was no longer worth saving, so I signed myself out at the end of the first week, and I haven’t spoken to the old man since. I stayed in touch with my mother, and she kept me afloat for a couple of years. But even her patience eventually ran out, and probably her money, so I had to find other ways to get hold of the cash I needed to survive. It’s quite difficult to continually try and borrow money from your friends, when they know you have no intention of ever paying them back.’

William continued to take notes.

‘But after I met Maria I checked myself back into the clinic, and tried a little harder.’

‘Maria?’

‘My girlfriend. But she was never convinced I’d really kicked the habit, and one night she caught me snorting a line of coke and became my ex-girlfriend. She told me she’d had enough and would be going back home to Brazil. Can’t say I blame her. Though I’d do anything to get her back. But I don’t think she’d be willing to give me a third chance.’

The first chink in his armour, thought William. ‘Maybe I could help convince her that this time you’re determined to kick the habit?’

‘How?’ Adrian sounded interested for the first time.

‘Have you ever considered becoming a gamekeeper, rather than a poacher?’

‘Why would I want to be a grass? People are killed for less.’

‘Because together, we might do something worthwhile.’

‘You must be joking, Choirboy.’

‘I couldn’t be more serious. You could help me put the real criminals behind bars. The ones who supply drugs to children in school playgrounds, and ruin young lives. That might convince your girlfriend you’ve turned over a new leaf.’

Another long silence followed. William was beginning to fear his appeal had fallen on deaf ears when Adrian suddenly opened up.

‘What would I have to do?’

‘I need to find out the name of the man who controls all the drug operations south of the river, and where his main factory is.’

‘And I’d like a million pounds in cash and two one-way tickets to Brazil,’ said Adrian.

‘Two one-way tickets to Brazil might be possible,’ said William. ‘Now all we need to discuss is the price.’

‘I’ll let you know just how much I expect, Choirboy, but not before the magistrate lets me off with a warning.’