If Scotty wasn’t to learn of Spanners’ arrest, then hardly anyone else could.
Given the soaring supposed sickness – the average team’s attendance rate was hovering around the forty per cent mark – Bob was hardly awash with choices. The public had yet to spot the shortfalls, such was their low expectation of the police since the cuts, but the force was in a critical state.
If he timed the arrest right, he’d get away with two, maybe three, officers surprising Spanners on a quiet street. If not, it would mean a whole police support unit battering some squat’s door down. He’d struggle to find three officers, let alone the twenty-plus he’d need. So he chose a wilier approach and hoped the ex-squaddie didn’t kick off.
When he arrived at work on the following day, the station seemed even emptier than usual. Time was getting on and the longer he waited, the more chance word would get out. He’d gleaned from Scotty that Spanners was an early riser and liked to stroll along the lower promenade before the crowds hit the beach. It wasn’t perfect but it was the best Bob could think of. All he needed was to find an arrest team.
He was rechecking the duty state when Gary strolled into his office. ‘All 245fit then?’ the superintendent asked rhetorically.
Replying in whispered tones, Bob said, ‘Not really. Have you ever seen the place so empty? Talk about tumbleweed.’
Gary looked at the empty desks outside Bob’s office. ‘We can’t go on like this. The chief needs to be making an example of one or two of these bloody skivers. That would get them back to work.’
‘They’re scared. For themselves and their families.’
‘It’s a tough job, Bob. They can always leave and make room for some less feeble recruits.’
Bob shook his head. ‘Anyway, looks like we’ll have to leave it to another day.’
‘Will we bollocks,’ said Gary. ‘I know who can do it.’
Fifteen minutes later, Bob and Gary were squeezed into a dark blue Toyota Yaris, on the patch of promenade which separated Marmalade’s nightclub and the shingle beach. At this time of the morning they were less conspicuous than they would be later, given the army of cleaners scouring their way through the various clubs, bars and restaurants that occupied Brighton’s Victorian beachfront arches.
‘You sure you’ll recognise him?’ said Gary, fiddling with the in-car stereo.
‘I hope so but remember this was your idea.’ Bob switched off the ignition to stop his boss finding Talksport. ‘And it’s helpful if we keep a little quiet while we wait … sir.’
‘This is why I never became a detective,’ said Gary.
‘They’d never have had you.’
Bob expected some quip back but instead, Gary said, ‘Is that him?’, pointing to a middle-aged man dressed in ripped camouflage trousers, a blue crew neck jumper and flip-flops.
‘That’s another reason why you stayed in uniform.’
The man walked past them, not even noticing the car was occupied.
‘Rude,’ said Gary.
Over the next half hour, twenty or thirty unlikely suspects wandered 246past and Bob started to wonder whether he’d relied too much on Scotty’s casual reflection on Spanners’ habits. More to make a point to Gary than in any sense of optimism, Bob was determined not to give up too soon but the cramped car, Gary’s attempts at humour and a mounting inbox all chipped away at his resolve.
He was about to give in when a huge dustcart filled the road ahead, lights flashing and machinery gobbling up last night’s detritus. It must have come down an unseen ramp but was slowly making its way towards them. Bob realised he’d come off second in any duel. He glanced in the mirror to reverse out of the way.
‘Gary, behind us.’
‘What?’
‘Slowly turn round and have a look at that bloke walking this way.’
Gary snapped his head round as if reacting to a gunshot. Bob tutted.
‘Could be,’ said Gary.
‘Almost certainly is. Let’s chance it and if we’re wrong, call it a day. On my count, open your door and get straight out. Whoever’s side he comes round grabs him.’
‘Got that.’
Bob kept watching, hoping he could time it to perfection. ‘Looks like your side,’ he said as the man ambled between the car and the club. ‘Ready. One. Two. Three. GO!’
The doors were flung open and both men leapt out. Bob ran round the front in case the suspect made a dash for it but by the time he got to Gary’s side, Spanners – he was sure of that now – was wedged by his throat against a garish orange sign.
‘Get the fuck off me,’ Spanners croaked, Gary’s face catching more than its fair share of spittle.
‘You dirty fucker,’ shouted Gary as he squeezed tighter.
‘Boss, leave him,’ called Bob as he pulled at Gary’s shoulder to stop him killing their target. Thankfully Gary acquiesced and Bob shoved him out of the way. ‘You Spanners?’ said Bob. 247
‘Who wants to know?’ Bob flipped open his warrant card wallet and almost instantly he saw the fight evaporate from Spanners’ eyes. ‘What the fuck do you want?’
‘I’m arresting you for supplying class A drugs.’
Bob had barely finished the caution before Spanners said, ‘You’ve got the wrong bloke. You do know I’ve been helping you. Ask Sergeant Scott.’
‘Listen, sweetheart,’ said Gary. ‘Two bits of advice. Firstly, keep your mouth shut until you’ve got a solicitor. And secondly, if you can’t do that, be very careful who you tell that you’ve been helping the police out. There are some serious health and safety issues associated with outing yourself as a grass.’
Bob took his handcuffs from his covert harness, pulled Spanners’ arms to the rear then clipped the cuffs. ‘Are they OK?’
‘Not really.’
‘It’s not too far to custody, so providing you behave yourself they’ll come off as soon as we get there.’
Spanners nodded a grudging understanding and allowed Bob to help him into the back seat, behind where Gary had been sitting. ‘Boss, can you get in the back next to him? Behind me?’
‘You’re kidding, right? Chuck me the keys. Sorry, privilege of rank.’ Bob gracelessly did as he was ordered and slid in the back seat, his knees crunched into his belly.
As Gary pulled away, Spanners stared ahead. ‘I think I know what this is about.’
‘Save it,’ said Gary.
Bob said, ‘Oh, do you?’
‘Those deliveries. I told Scotty about them as soon as they happened.’ Bob left a silence. ‘You know I’m dead now anyway, don’t you?’
‘How so?’ said Bob.
‘It’s the way it is. One job then you’re a goner. I think you might have done me a favour.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure,’ said Bob. 248
‘Well, you’ve got to protect me now.’
Bob knew that but he thought he’d push it one more time. ‘Only if you tell us more. And by more, I mean everything and not to Scotty. To properly trained source handlers all going through the right channels. You do that and we’ll look after you. What do you say?’
‘Not sure I’ve got any choice, but you need to tell Scotty. I can’t imagine he’ll take it too well.’
‘Sergeant Scott will do as he’s told,’ said Gary.
‘We got a deal then?’ said Bob.
‘Of course we have,’ said Spanners, as he turned to stare out of the window, with just the glimmer of a smile.
The video that his Cambridge source had WhatsApp’d him last night couldn’t have been better timed but with his mother in such a precarious state, there was no way Sir Ben was travelling up to London. So the policing minister would just have to make an unscheduled constituency visit and come to him.
He knew the Right Honourable Edward Baker MP would cry three-line whips if he demanded he travel to Brighton in the afternoon, so he demanded he arrive by 9.00 a.m., for his son’s sake.
On the dot, his doorbell app pinged and there, on the screen, was the minister, resembling a boy caught smoking awaiting his fate outside the headmaster’s office. He pressed the button and Baker scurried up to the driveway, throwing glances behind him as he went.
For no other reason than spite, Sir Ben kept him waiting on the doorstep a couple of minutes, smirking as he watched him squirm in plain sight.
Eventually he opened the door and Baker squeezed past. ‘This really is not convenient, Sir Ben. I can’t just hotfoot it down to Brighton at your beck and call. I’m a busy man.’
‘Yet here you are. Come with me.’ Sir Ben led the way into the lounge. On the coffee table sat a MacBook Pro, screen up and the first frame of a 249video waiting to play. ‘I’ve something to show you. Do sit down.’
Baker did as he was told and Sir Ben sat next to him. ‘This came through last night. I wanted you to see it before anyone else.’ He pressed play.
The image flickered on the screen, then stabilised. It was from a mobile phone and it was apparent that whoever was holding it had consumed as much alcohol as those in its frame. The scene was a narrow cobbled street with a high wall on one side and a Sainsbury’s Local, a Mountain Warehouse and other ubiquitous chain stores on the other. ‘It’s Cambridge city centre, in case you were wondering.’
‘I know,’ said Baker. ‘I spent three years there.’ He jabbed a finger at the wall, which Sir Ben knew belonged to Sidney Sussex College.
‘Keep watching.’ The camera operator was following three young men, all dancing in the centre of the road, singing ‘The Wild Rover’; one had a traffic cone on his head. All were about the same age, nineteen or twenty, and all were very drunk. After a second, the middle one, wearing ‘white tie’ but without the tie, turned to the camera. ‘Put that fucking phone away you peasant and join in.’ Baker looked horrified as there could be no doubt the face belonged to his son, James.
The video continued for a few more seconds when James’s attention was suddenly drawn to a charity shop doorway. ‘Oh my fucking Christ, what have we here?’ he shouted as he turned to face whatever he’d seen. ‘A fucking Fraggle on God’s fair streets.’ The image zoomed in to show a man huddled in blankets with straggly grey hair and full beard. ‘Stand up my man,’ James shouted. When the man didn’t move, he took a step in and swung his leg back, then drop-kicked the man square in the stomach. There was a sickening scream, then one of the others tried to haul him off but James pushed him away. ‘I know what the problem is. He’s too fucking cold to move. Let’s warm him up.’ With that, James reached in his waistcoat pocket and pulled out a silver lighter.
‘A gift from Daddy?’ said Sir Ben.
‘Do we have to watch this?’ said Baker. Sir Ben remained silent but turned back to the screen. 250
In the second they’d been looking away, James was bending down and a flame had erupted from the lighter, which he was waving at the homeless man’s coat hem. Suddenly the coat caught fire. Panic ensued and two of James’s companions pulled him away then jumped in and stamped on the man’s burning clothes until they’d gone out. Amid the shouts, James’s hysterical laughter cut through. The loudest cries though were from the man in the charred rags trying to get up.
‘You fucking idiot,’ yelled the man who’d done most of the stamping, clearly to James. The phone swung round to capture him again. He was still giggling like a child, then his expression changed. ‘Hold on, he’s still on fire,’ said James. ‘Leave it to me.’ He leapt forward, kicked the man back down, then having fiddled with his trousers, an arc of urine drenched the man’s head.
‘A proper little charmer, isn’t he?’ said Sir Ben. ‘You and he will be finished when I send this out, so this is your last chance. What the hell have you been up to since we last spoke?’
‘He’s just a kid, please don’t ruin his life.’
‘Oh, he’s perfect Number 10 material if previous incumbents are anything to go by. However, not if this goes viral.’
‘OK. OK. We did delay some deliveries and temporarily interrupted the police station power. And we got Mrs Howe’s credit cards frozen for a while, but it’s difficult to do more than that.’
‘Really? For a man of your talents? You have a reputation for waltzing through the impossible, so this should be child’s play. Pardon the pun.’
‘Leave it with me. I’ll try harder but give me your word you won’t leak this.’ He pointed to the screen.
‘I gather the poor man doesn’t want to press charges. However, I’m sure that might change – for the right sum.’
‘Please.’
‘Then do what I asked. You are an important cog in a set of very complex wheels. Well, not you specifically, but what I’ve asked you to do is. If this whole machine delivers, then we’ll all be very rich and young 251James can continue in his father’s murky footsteps.’
Sir Ben fiddled with the keyboard and a blank message appeared, with the email addresses of twenty or so of the UK’s foremost news outlets filled out in the ‘To’ field. The video was already attached.
‘Shall I press “send”?’
‘No.’
‘OK, so do we have an understanding or should your constituency be preparing for a by-election?’
‘What choice do I have?’
‘That’s more like it.’ Baker jumped up and strode for the door. ‘Enjoy your day, Minister,’ Sir Ben called out, as the door slammed shut.
Jo had ignored half a dozen calls from an unknown number while she waited on hold to Belmarsh Prison. She’d been on the line for the best part of an hour when Scotty rapped on the open door. She looked up and tried to hide the fact he was the last person she wanted to see.
Forcing her best smile, she said, ‘Scotty, how can I help you?’
‘Can I come in, ma’am?’
‘Yes of course.’ He stepped into the office and closed the door. ‘How are you? You know, after Lizzie.’
‘What? Oh yes, I’m getting there. Look, is Mr Hedges around?’
‘Er, no I think he’s up at custody. Can I help at all?’
Scotty fidgeted. He’d obviously geared himself up for a battle with someone senior, but not this senior. The sergeant took a breath. ‘Is it true that the superintendent has arrested my informant?’
‘Well, if I know Mr Hedges as I think I do, I’d imagine he asked DI Heaton to actually say the magic words – but, yes, Spanners is in custody.’
Scotty flushed. ‘Well didn’t anyone think to tell me? He is my contact for fuck’s sake.’
Jo wanted to treat him gently but she couldn’t let that go. ‘Right. Sit down, shut up and listen.’ He did exactly as he was told. ‘First of all, you 252never speak to anyone like that, be it me, the chief constable or the newest cleaner, do you understand?’
‘Yes, ma’am. Sorry, it’s just …’
‘I know you’re annoyed and I would be too, but I decided he would be arrested and that you wouldn’t be told.’
Scotty’s brow furrowed. ‘I don’t understand. Don’t you trust me?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. If I didn’t trust you, do you think I would have involved you in everything that’s been going on? Of course I trust you, but sometimes it’s not good to know everything. For your own protection. But, since you asked, Spanners distributed drugs around the city and since then people have been dying. We can’t just ignore that.’
‘But why does it take a superintendent and DI to arrest him?’ Jo was relieved he seemed to be veering away from his original ‘don’t keep secrets’ stance.
‘Usually it wouldn’t but we’re a bit short-handed at the moment. They were simply all we had left.’
‘But what about the others?’
‘What others?’
‘The people he delivered to. Are they getting nicked too?’
She didn’t know how to answer that without lighting even more blue touchpaper. All she could manage was, ‘In time.’
Scotty unfolded himself to his full six foot four. ‘Well, let me make a start,’ he roared then stormed out of the door, his mission lasered in his eyes.
‘Scotty, Scotty,’ she called out but he was gone.