Sheridan could barely sit still. Back at work, at his desk, staring at the screen, but hardly seeing it. Mind otherwise occupied with what he had discovered on Harmer’s computer.
DCI Harmer had given the go-ahead for Operation Retrieve with Killgannon. But he was also the one who had dismissed Sheridan’s concerns for his safety. And now there was this. Harmer was compromised, but Sheridan couldn’t say or do anything about it to anyone higher up the chain of command. Especially not concerning how he had come across the information. It would be a huge black mark against him, potentially even a demotion or suspension.
So there he sat, unable to progress until he knew what to do. But he had to do something, tell someone. And the natural person would be Blake.
He watched her working at her computer, her face expressionless, nearly angry. He had heard of this thing called resting bitch face. One of his kids had said it at home over dinner describing a girl at school, the other had laughed. He had been angry at first. It sounded insulting and he questioned why one of his own children would use language like that. They had laughed in response, told him what it meant. A face in repose that looked angry or cruel. A part of him felt bad thinking that about her. Especially since he felt he had something like it himself.
He reached his conclusion. No choice, really. He had to talk to her. But not here, not now.
He kept working, one eye on his screen, the other on her until eventually she rose from her seat, picked up her lanyard and a box of cigarettes from her desk, made her way to the door. Sheridan rose, followed her out.
She was standing in the self-appointed smoking area, outside the back door by the vans. The gulag, it was called. A uniform lit up, nodded to her. She nodded back, her expression telling him she didn’t want company. He sauntered away. Sheridan took his place.
‘Can I have a word?’
She looked at him, suppressed a smile. ‘Come over to the dark side, Nick? Didn’t think your fitness regime would allow it.’
She proffered her packet. He saw a cancerous mouth on the side, winced as he shook his head.
‘It’s about work,’ he said. ‘I didn’t want to say it in the office. Thought it was best when we were on our own.’
She looked round the car park. Officers and detectives were coming and going all the time, cars and vans on the move. ‘And you chose here?’ she said, smiling once more.
‘Better than inside.’ He paused. Gathered himself for what he was about to say. ‘Look. There’s no good way to say this. The Killgannon thing. I . . .’ He sighed. ‘Harmer hasn’t been straight with us.’
She froze, dead as a statue, cigarette on the way to her lips. Slowly, she turned to face him. ‘What d’you mean?’
‘I . . . hacked his computer.’
‘You did what?’
‘Just listen. He’s got stuff on there about Tom Killgannon and Dean Foley that he shouldn’t have. Or at least should have shared with us before we sent Killgannon in there.’
‘Like what?’ She glanced sideways at anyone who might be listening in, made the movement as natural as possible. Her face gave nothing away.
‘I think he knew Foley was in Blackmoor when we sent Killgannon inside. He knew their history, what Killgannon had done, how he’d got him in there.’
She took a huge lungful of smoke, let it percolate within her, slowly blew it into the air. Then let the cigarette fall from her fingers, stubbed it out casually but firmly with the toe of her boot. ‘I don’t know what to say, Nick. I’m as confused as you are.’
Sheridan looked round. Shook his head. Then looked back at Blake, mind made up.
‘We’ve got to go and see Harmer.’
‘When, now?’
‘Why not? We’ve got to know what’s going on.’
Blake looked unconvinced. ‘It’s risky. Let’s think about it.’
‘We don’t have time. Come on.’
He walked back into the building. Blake watched him go, then followed him.
*
‘Come in.’
Sheridan walked into Harmer’s office, Blake running along behind him. Harmer sat back, regarded the pair of them.
What can I do for you?’
‘It’s about Operation Retrieve,’ said Sheridan. ‘We’ve been doing some digging and—’
‘Is this about Foley and Killgannon?’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Blake.
Sheridan was pleased she was speaking up, backing him up.
Harmer nodded. ‘Sit down. And make sure the door’s shut.’
They did so.
‘I was going to talk to you both. After your visit the other day I looked into the Foley case. And there are some . . . irregularities. To be honest, I don’t know how we didn’t see this earlier. This could be a real mess.’
‘How so?’ asked Sheridan.
‘Like I said, I looked into Foley’s file. And I think there’s something else going on here. A huge amount of money went missing the night Killgannon busted Foley. Foley’s money. And the last person to see it was Killgannon. Or Mick Eccleston as he was then.’
‘So?’ said Blake.
‘Everyone was questioned. No one saw anything. No one knew what had happened to it. Like it had just disappeared into thin air. But someone had taken it. And the suspicion was always on Killgannon.’
‘How much went missing?’ asked Sheridan.
‘Over two million.’
‘What?’ Sheridan again. ‘And we think Killgannon has it?’
‘We don’t know. We don’t know anything about this Tom Killgannon, do we?’
‘He’s got a good record.’
‘For doing underhand, dangerous things. Not always on the right side of the law, either. For all we know he could be dodgy, shall we say? In fact I think he might be.’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘As I said, I’ve been doing some digging. And Killgannon wasn’t the only one undercover in Foley’s gang. And that other one didn’t have such a good ending as Killgannon.’
‘What, he’s dead?’
‘May as well be. Poor bastard.’
Sheridan flinched. Harmer hardly ever swore. This must be serious. ‘What, Killgannon sold him out?’
‘I’m trying to find out. So we’ve got more to go on. It’s not easy.’
Sheridan thought. ‘But none of this changes the essential job, though, does it? Whether he’s taken money or not, it doesn’t matter. He’s there to do a job and he’s been compromised. We have to get him out.’
‘He’s safe where he is at the moment,’ Harmer replied, voice hardening. ‘He’s in segregation, away from the wing, from Foley. Let’s think about this.’
‘What’s to think about?’
‘This could be a major complication, DI Sheridan. We have to proceed carefully. As I said, he’s fine where he is. I need to think about this.’ He sat up straight, looked at the door. ‘I have work to do.’
Sheridan reluctantly stood. Blake also.
Sheridan walked slowly back to his desk, Blake to hers. Neither spoke. He stared at his screen once more. Thought.
How did Harmer know Killgannon was in solitary? Who had told him? Sheridan was waiting to hear from Killgannon. And what about this other undercover officer? What had happened there? It sounded like Harmer knew more than he was letting on. And not sharing it. This wasn’t how Sheridan did things. This wasn’t fair play.
He tried to work. Think what to do next.
But he couldn’t concentrate.