Doug walked out in front of me. I had one opportunity. The small area between the inner and outer doors to the toilets might give me the seconds I needed.
But, no sooner had we reached the narrow corridor than Doug was jumped by two PCs from the firearms response team. They bundled him into the corridor and threw him against the far wall where they spread his arms and legs before searching him thoroughly. I cursed under my breath. One of the firearms officers handed what looked like a wallet and some car keys to a figure standing just out of my line of sight.
I couldn’t see who it was, but as soon as I heard the man speak, I knew. It was Jim Mellor.
The Superintendent was intent on telling Doug who he was, as if he expected the stunned and now-silent PC to have heard of him. Doug kept quiet, remaining passive as he allowed the two firearms lads to finish their search.
‘He’s clear, guv,’ said the officer nearest to me, who I could now see from the rank insignia on his chest was a Sergeant.
Mellor ordered the group to follow him. The firearms PC took Doug’s arm. I followed behind with the Sergeant in the hope I may yet have a final chance. There was no sign of Sue Corfield or any of the divisional senior officers.
We passed the room that the negotiating team had taken over. The door was closed, the only evidence of its use being the wire that trailed along the floor from the toilet. They would be waiting to debrief me, I expected. Every negotiation team followed the same procedure, together with an analysis and a report. Lessons learned, that kind of thing.
As Mellor started to tell Doug that he was under arrest and to caution him, I seized the opportunity to lean into the Sergeant and whisper into his ear.
The Sergeant turned to me and winked. ‘No worries, guv. Our Inspector heard everything that happened in there and relayed it to us. One of our lads was also in Ireland at the time and knew all about it.’ He nodded towards where Superintendent Mellor was opening the door into the station yard and then lowered his voice as he whispered in my ear. ‘He’s the one you want to worry about. He ordered the rapid entry. There’s been an almighty bust-up upstairs between him and the local Chief.’
Mellor stopped outside the door, preventing us from continuing the conversation without being overheard. After a few seconds, two more men in suits appeared. They placed themselves either side of Doug and, as the firearms officer stood to one side, took hold of his arms.
‘With us, PC Powell,’ one said.
With that, they walked briskly out into the sunlight that now filled the yard. I made to follow them when a hand was placed firmly on my chest.
It was Mellor. ‘My prisoner I believe, Inspector Finlay.’
I stopped, taken aback by the forcefulness of Mellor’s manner. He clearly didn’t want me anywhere near Doug Powell. And then, as my fists tensed and I experienced a surge of heat flush upwards from my chest, I felt the red-mist of temper rising.
Mellor saw it. He leaned in close to me. ‘I fuckin’ dare you, Inspector,’ he said, his tone threatening, taunting.
I stepped back. And, before I could react further, the yard door was closed firmly in my face. I turned to the SO19 Sergeant. ‘I think I see what you mean. He doesn’t do discussion, does he?’
‘Legend in his own mind, guv, and a bad man to cross.’
‘I’ll remember that.’
‘If that had been me, I’d have clocked him, Superintendent or no.’
I nodded, took a slow breath and turned back into the corridor. Mike Rogers was emerging from the negotiation control room. He saw me.
‘Debrief in ten, Finlay. You OK? The Chief Super wants us upstairs.’
‘I’m fine,’ I said. ‘All of us?’ I pointed to the lads from the firearms team who were just behind me.
‘No, just you and me. Full debrief will be in the parade room afterwards.’
I was still shaking. And although the surge of uncontrolled anger was easing, I was shocked at how close I had come to losing control. It wasn’t like me. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt that desire to really batter another human being. I shrugged and followed Mike to the stairs. John Southern was waiting for us in his office, alone. Mike walked straight in, indicated for me to sit and closed the door behind us.
Southern must have read the confused look on my face. ‘Bit unusual I know, Finlay, but I wanted to have a quick word before we head across to the parade room.’
‘About what, specifically?’ I asked.
‘Well, first things first, you did a great job. We heard everything. You handled it well, kept PC Powell calm and achieved an outcome as good as we could have hoped for.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Mike tells me that you’ve not been involved in any live negotiation since we were on our course back in 1980?’
‘Not really, no. The course was useful, mind. Made me think about how to handle things and came in very handy over the years.’
‘In the army?’
‘Mostly, and a couple of times since.’
‘That’s good … but that’s not really why I wanted to speak to you now.’
Southern stood up from behind his desk, and walked to the window of his office. It looked out onto Holmes Road, a narrow street off the main drag through Kentish Town. Hands shoved hard into his trouser pockets, he faced away from me as he continued. ‘There’s been a few problems,’ he began.
I turned to where Mike was sitting beside me and scowled. He didn’t comment, just raised his eyebrows.
‘What kind of problems?’ I asked.
‘Nothing you did or didn’t do, Finlay. But I thought it only right that you should know.’ Southern turned around to face us. ‘Do you mind if I ask if you’ve ever met Superintendent Mellor before?’
‘I haven’t.’
‘That’s interesting … because he clearly seems to know you, or know of you. Did you hear the rapid entry plan on your earpiece?’
‘I did. And I hope you don’t mind me saying, I thought the timing wasn’t good. Did you catch my reaction? I stood against the door and made sure you knew I was there. That was supposed to tell you to back off.’
‘We heard it … we all heard it. What you need to know was that it was Mellor’s decision to go in hard to effect arrest, it wasn’t mine, and it didn’t come from the negotiation team.’
‘So who was in charge then, who got to make the final decision?’
‘Mellor did. As Powell is subject of a criminal investigation now, complaints branch were effectively in charge.’
‘Even though he’s one of yours?’
‘Yes, even then. Mellor was extremely angry when he heard your reaction to the command to prepare for a forced entry.’ Southern turned to face Mike Rogers. ‘I might even use the word livid, wouldn’t you, Mike?’
The Negotiation Coordinator nodded, his hands clasped firmly together on his lap. ‘Livid, yes,’ he said. ‘So much so, he let slip something he probably shouldn’t have.’
‘Like what?’ I asked.
As Southern continued, I turned back to face him. ‘Look, Finlay, it’s common knowledge these days that you were once in the SAS Regiment. Any idea you had of keeping it quiet is long gone. What Mellor said shows he is clearly someone who thought you should have been either prosecuted or disciplined for something that happened last year during the IRA attacks.’
‘Did he say that?’ I asked, as I thought about what had just happened in the ground-floor corridor and the way Mellor had pushed his hand into my chest, almost as if he had intended to goad me.
‘Not in as many words, but it was clear that’s what he meant,’ Southern replied.
‘And you think I should know I’m on his radar?’
‘Mellor is the kind of man who won’t just leave it at that. He’ll be gunning for you.’
‘And you think that influenced his decision to go in hard today, before I’d had a chance to resolve things peacefully?’
‘I do. He wanted to deny you the chance to do well.’
‘Nice man,’ I said.
‘He’s not. I’ve known Jim Mellor for years. In fact, we go back a long way to a time when he was an Inspector here at this very nick and I was one of his PCs.’
‘You have some history, then?’
‘You could say that. One night shift we had a disagreement over something petty. For the life of me, I can’t recall what it was, but the upshot was that he offered me outside. He wanted to resolve the argument in a fist fight.’
I was stunned for a moment. It wasn’t uncommon for disputes to be settled by soldiers in such a way, but I’d never heard of it in police circles. And for an Inspector – the equivalent of a commissioned officer – to square up to a PC was virtually unthinkable.
‘What happened?’ I enquired.
‘I walked off, but it really affected me. And I don’t mind telling you, he scared me as well. I put in for a transfer the very next day.’
‘And now he’s junior to you?’
‘He is, but men like Mellor don’t let little things like rank bother them.’
‘No,’ I said, as I recalled the proximity of the Superintendent’s face to mine, the heat of his breath on my face, the way he’d dared me to react to him. ‘No, I guess they don’t.’