‘I’m out.’
‘What do you mean, “you’re out”?’
‘Just temporarily.’
‘What do you mean, “you’re out”?’
Griggs sat in the car opposite, window down, engine ticking over. Anyone came by, he was ready to get out and fast. So was I. Face to face meets could be dangerous, but when it came to major developments, they were necessary. There are some things you can’t communicate in text or email. Or even down a phone line.
Also, I could see his face. He wasn’t taking the news well.
‘All this time, this effort, this risk …’
‘All my risk.’
He looked at me. His eyes betrayed what he was thinking. That kind of anger can’t be pushed down. Not for long, anyway.
The man I had known was a good copper. Considered to be one of the best. The good guy with the bad past. Living proof that circumstances don’t always predict a man’s future.
His father had beaten him. Killed Griggs’s mother. The rumour mill said that the young Griggs had killed his father, too. But there was no proof of that, only talk. Station gossip, especially about our own, is rarely worth listening to.
However he started out, Griggs became a good man. And a better policeman. He had a weakness for domestic abuse cases, wading in like he was the hand of God. But then, most cops you talk to have a bug up their arse when it comes to certain kinds of criminal act. He was known for his even-handedness, for his honesty, for his ability to work – more or less – within the confines allowed by the law. He made enemies along the way of course – a crooked politician once tried to set him up on a corruption charge – but when you’re police, you can’t help making enemies. And when you have the kind of zeal that Griggs had, sometimes those enemies are going to try and take you out any way they can.
The man in the other car no longer had the eyes of a good man. He looked at me like he wanted to crush me beneath his shoe and walk on. I was worthless. Useless. Meant nothing to him. He was fuelled by anger. Bitterness. Didn’t care about anything except achieving the singular goal of getting revenge on David Burns. He wanted the bad man to suffer. And he didn’t care about the cost of achieving that.
So what was I doing allowing this man to manipulate me? Why had I let him bully me into betraying principles I would have fought for in years gone by?
Because of his reputation? Because of the man he used to be?
Griggs wasn’t that man any more. And I was beginning to realize that. Maybe he never had been. Maybe everyone had deluded themselves about the kind of man he really was. Or maybe he just changed. Slowly. Incrementally. In ways that no one would really notice.
Susan had told me that Griggs and I were alike in many ways. Maybe once. Certainly, I once had that same sense of focus, that same hatred of the universe and everyone in it. That same intensity.
How had people looked at me?
Had they seen the same look in my eyes that I saw in his?
‘Do you think there’s a chance that you’ll get back in?’ he asked.
‘With Burns? I don’t know. Your little stunt with Findo has them watching their back. Jesus, what the fuck did you do?’
‘You’d rather he told them what he told us? That you were a traitor? That you took the side of the men you had been sent to hurt?’
‘He wanted to kill them. What was I supposed to do?’
‘Whatever it took not to fuck up your cover.’
‘You were in my shoes, you would cross the line?’
There was a moment of silence. In the distance, there was the slow rushing sound of traffic crossing the bridge. Car headlights illuminated us for a moment on their way past. But no one came into the car park. No one joined us. This time of night, the only people looking for other vehicles in deserted places like this were doggers and undercover police.
‘Don’t talk to me about lines, McNee. Don’t tell me you won’t kill. Don’t tell me you haven’t killed.’
Using my own past against me. The way he had from the first time he barged into my office.
‘You know what’s at stake here,’ he said. ‘You know why we’re doing this.’
‘I know why I’m doing this. But this isn’t like you, Griggs.’
‘Yeah?’
‘We worked together. I remember who you were.’
‘One time only. You were in uniform back them. The rules were different.’
‘And so were you.’
‘I was more innocent.’
‘You were a DI.’
‘So?’
What was the point in arguing? He was in control. Same as he had always been. Except back then I had trusted men like Griggs with my life.
And now?
I didn’t trust anyone.
Especially men like Griggs.
Men who lied and manipulated. Believed they were on the side of the angels. Called themselves the good guys. Believed the label entitled them to do whatever it took to achieve that end.
Griggs took my silence for capitulation. ‘There’s going to be a war,’ he said. ‘And it’s your fault if it escalates.’
‘What do you want from me? I’ve given you everything.’
‘I need cast iron—’
‘—No,’ I said. ‘Between what I have and the evidence I know Ernie gathered, you’ve got more than enough to take the old man out. There’s something else going on. And you need to tell me.’
He looked about to say something. His lips curled. His incisors showed. But he bit back whatever response he had.
I let it go.
What else could I do?
He said, ‘Get close to Burns. Place him at the murder of Jason Taylor. Place him at as many killings as you can. The ones he did personally, the ones he ordered. Not just your word. Definitive proof. I want him on tape. I want him to confess to murder. No more hearsay, no more we-said-he-said. Nothing a lawyer can twist to the point of reasonable doubt. No more Not-Proven verdicts. I want the truth. From his mouth to God’s bastard ears.’
‘With you playing the part of Our Lord?’
Griggs shook his head, peeled out of the parking space and took the turn on to the road back to the bridge far too fast.
I watched his car vanish into the black.
Realized I was alone.