Revenger

78

The United People’s Party headquarters was packed to bursting with the world’s media. The conference room made the Black Hole of Calcutta look spacious and underpopulated. Every other office, corridor and stairwell in the place was rammed with reporters. Screens and speakers had been set up so that they could all get a view of what was going on — the same view they would have got in much more comfort had they just stayed at home. Outside there were more news-crews sending reports back to their studios and interviewing passers-by. All the outside broadcast vans that had been in Netherton Street a few hours ago were here in the Shepherd’s Bush Road now, creating a logjam that was backing up the rush-hour traffic across a great swathe of West London.

What none of the media knew, however, was that Robbie Bell had fought like a man possessed to prevent the whole damn thing being cancelled. He’d been involved in a series of heated conversations with the police in the form of Commander Mary Stamford.

‘I must ask you not to go ahead with this event, Mr Bell,’ Stamford had told him when civilized appeals to his better nature had failed.

‘Ask, or order?’ Bell had asked.

‘You know I cannot order you not to communicate with the media.’

‘Precisely. So that’s what we’re going to do.’

‘But I can arrest you and Mr Adams for obstructing or even perverting the course of justice if anything you or he says in this press conference hinders our investigations or makes it harder to bring legal proceedings at a later date. I would also remind you that the man you have identified to us has not yet been apprehended, interviewed, arrested or charged, still less found guilty in a court of law. If you say anything that might damage his reputation, you will leave yourself open to civil proceedings at a later date.’

‘I’m well aware of the laws of libel, Commander,’ Bell hit back. ‘But let me tell you a few laws of politics. I went public with this story because it would have leaked from your force if I hadn’t.’

‘Not if I’d had anything to do with it…’

‘You might not have done it, but somebody would. Then it would have looked like we had something to hide, and there would have been even more blood on the carpet — Mark Adams’s. Our campaign cannot afford to be anything less than totally transparent.’

‘It can’t afford to have you two carted off to Kennington nick to explain yourselves to our detective, either. Bear that in mind, Mr Bell.’

Bell put his phone away, thinking, Bollocks to that. A few hours ago, his campaign had been going down the crapper. Now he could put his man right back at the top of the news agenda and screw every other party up the arse while he did it. And if some copper thought she was going to stop him, she had another think coming.

Moments later he was striding into the conference with a confident spring in his step and taking his place behind the lectern to address the expectant crowd. ‘Before we begin, I’ll just explain what will happen. Mr Adams will read a brief statement. He will then answer questions. He will not, and cannot, however, give you any names, either of the suspect he has brought to the attention of the police or of anyone associated with that suspect. I’m sure you’ll understand…’ Bell gave a wry grin, pointed at a notoriously feisty TV newsman and got a laugh as he added, ‘… even you, Gerry, that this is a matter of police operational security. At this time of crisis, it is the duty of all of us to assist the police in any way we can, and we are doing everything in our power to help, rather than hinder, their inquiries. And now, without further ado, let me introduce the leader of the United People’s Party, the Right Honourable Mark Adams, MP!’

Mary Stamford did not appreciate being messed around by a jumped-up PR man. First Bell had made a nuisance of himself outside the event last night: now this. She called DI Keane, who was now back at Kennington. ‘Mara,’ she asked, ‘how far have we got with all that Berwick Street evidence?’

She listened thoughtfully to what Keane had to say, then asked, ‘Anything useful come out of the hotel room yet?

‘I see,’ she replied after Keane had given a somewhat shorter reply. ‘Well, I think it’s time we brought the public up to date with our investigation.’

‘Does that have anything to do with wanting to get your own back for this Adams press conference?’

Stamford laughed. ‘Well, just a little bit, maybe.’

‘Then I’ll get on to it right away, ma’am. Do you want me to run this through Public Affairs first?’

‘No, I’ll take care of all that. Just stick to the facts… and don’t be too obvious.’

‘Of course not,’ said Keane. ‘I quite understand.’