Left You Dead

5

Back in the prison car park, Roy Grace sat in his Alfa, window cracked to let in some breeze, and opened the red notebook. His hands were shaking as he began to read Batchelor’s notes — or rather, began the slow work of deciphering them.

Half an hour had passed, he realized with a start, by the time he had finished. And his hands were now shaking even more. Shit, if this was true, he would have ACC Cassian Pewe bang to rights!

He started the car and headed back towards home, his mind in turmoil. He felt conflicted. If what Guy had given him was genuine — and he little doubted it was — and if this Raj, whoever he was, would hand over the recording of Pewe and testify — and he had a good motive for doing so — then Cassian Pewe’s career was toast. And he might well face a prison sentence.

But Grace wasn’t smiling as he drove. Sure, Pewe was a pain in the arse, but he churned over in his mind for some minutes the morality of destroying a fellow officer’s career — however much he loathed the man. Could he do this? Deep down he knew that, having this information, it was now his duty to do so, and immediately.

He pulled into a lay-by on the A27 and switched the engine off. He picked up his phone, found Alison Vosper’s mobile number in the address book and dialled it.

Expecting it to go to voicemail, he was both pleasantly surprised — and somewhat nervous — when she answered on the third ring.

‘Roy! Nice to hear from you. So have you changed your mind and decided to take my offer of a Commander role in the Met? I presume that’s why you’re calling?’

‘Well, ma’am, not exactly — though this is connected to your offer, albeit in an oblique way.’

‘Oblique? Should we be doing our heads in with words like “oblique” on a Sunday evening?’

In all the time he’d known the former ACC of Sussex, he’d found it hard to tell when she was being nice, indeed humorous, or just plain sarcastic.

‘I’ll skip the oblique and come straight to the point, ma’am.’

He summarized what Guy Batchelor had told him earlier, much of it seemingly confirmed by the notes in the red book.

She was silent for so long after he had finished that he began to wonder if they’d been cut off. Then, the tone of her voice very different, serious and to the point, she said, ‘Roy, how certain are you this former officer has told you the truth?’

‘One hundred per cent,’ he said, without hesitation.

‘Even though he’s serving time in prison?’

‘He’s not looking to get anything out of this personally, ma’am.’

‘So why has he given this to you?’

‘Because he hates corrupt coppers, even though he is one — perhaps he doesn’t see that — and he wanted to repay me for standing up for him at his trial with a character reference.’

‘Always loyal to your team, aren’t you?’

‘It wasn’t loyalty, ma’am — his appalling behaviour was out of character and the court needed to hear that.’

That seemed to satisfy her. ‘OK, Roy. Don’t discuss this with any of your colleagues in Sussex. Can you scan and send me the contents of the notebook as soon as possible?’

‘I can do it when I get home — half an hour.’

‘Good. What I’ll do is place this in the hands of the Met Anti-Corruption Unit.’ She paused. ‘Roy, I don’t need to tell you this is a very delicate scenario — it needs to be handled both carefully and highly confidentially.’

‘Absolutely.’

‘I will also personally brief the Chief Constable of Sussex and the Police and Crime Commissioner — they need to be made aware. I don’t need you to do anything else at this stage.’

‘Understood, ma’am.’

Ending the call, Roy sat for some minutes feeling an almost overwhelming sense of calm. As if the monkey that had been on his back for longer than he could remember had suddenly been prised away. He looked forward to getting home and, hopefully with the rain some hours away, firing up the barbecue before it got too dark.