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‘Jesus!’

‘Yeah, so please … he’ll kill me.’

‘I just want to know about Tony, that’s all.’

She sighed, said, ‘Five minutes?’

‘Guaranteed, the clock’s already ticking.’

Got in the car. He asked, ‘Wanna go someplace, get a drink?

‘No, I want to get away from you.’

Reached in her bag, took out a pack of Marlboro Lights, said, ‘Jeez … Lights! If Tommy sees me, I won’t be worrying about cancer. They should put a health warning on men.’

She lit up, said, ‘I suppose this is a “smoke free zone”?’

‘Don’t worry about it.’

She gave him a full look, said, ‘Oh I won’t, you can be sure of that.’

Roberts had a hundred questions, didn’t know where to begin.

She did: ‘It was so corny. I dropped some packages and he helped me. Our eyes locked over a crushed M amp;S bag. I didn’t tell him who I was.

‘Tommy was on his way up and, being more crazy than usual, I started to meet Tony twice a week. He was gentle and where I’m coming from, that’s unheard of.

‘Funny too. I didn’t know men could get you laughing. Then when Tommy began to suspect, I tried to call it off.

‘But not really.

‘I couldn’t give him up. He was like … the beat of my heart. The rest you know. If you’re thinking would I ever say that in a court, forget it.

‘What was Tony to me? He made me feel special. Like, if I was reading The Sun, he wouldn’t look down his nose. Oh yeah, he loved Smokie.’

‘Smoking?’

She laughed, said, ‘No, Smokie, a pop group from the ’70s who kept on playing. Tony said they were the purest pop band … “Living Next Door To Alice”?’

Roberts shook his head and she seemed disappointed, said, ‘You probably listen to classical stuff. Tony said I was his Alice … corny eh?’

She was crying now, said, ‘Ah jeez, me eye make-up is ruined. They tell you it doesn’t run. Believe me, everything runs. Can I go?’

Roberts nodded, said, ‘Tina, I’ll get him.’

‘You probably believe that, but I doubt if you ever will.’ And she was gone.

When Falls met Brant at the station, she said, ‘We have to talk.’

‘Naw, I don’t think so. You did all right-got a commendation. McDonald’s too smart to probe. He knows he was lucky.’

‘But it’s wrong.’

‘Gee, that’s a pity.’ And he strode off.

A few minutes later, the desk sergeant called her, said, ‘Phone, down the hall.’

She picked it up, said, ‘Hello?’

‘It’s Jack.’

‘Oh Jack, I am so sorry, I…

‘Yes, undoubtedly…

‘She was my best mate, Jack.’

A pause.

‘She expressed a certain fondness for you too. I would like you to do something for me.’

Perturbed by his tone, she was off balance, said, ‘Anything.’

‘Please inform your colleagues that we want no police at the funeral. No wreaths or vulgar flowers shaped like a helmet.’

‘OK, Jack, but her friends can surely attend as private mourners, I mean…

‘I most expressly forbid it.’

‘Oh … well, you’re upset.’

‘Don’t counsel me, lassie.’

‘I didn’t mean…

‘Good day to you.’ And he hung up.

Dazed, she stood with the phone in her hand, then thought, It’s good, good he can focus his grief, vent it and get it out.

Then she thought, The self-righteous prick. I’ll send the most vulgar display he’s ever seen … Yeah, fuck you too.

Powerful

Tommy Logan had gathered his men. He began, ‘Now lads… You could cut the Irish brogue with a shillelagh. He could have been speaking Swahili for all they cared. They were on a roll and cash was steaming in. Plus, they knew he was the last man on earth to fuck with.

He continued, ‘Ye’ll be familiar with informants. Or snitches, as they call them in this country. It seems the police have somebody doing the dirty on us.’

Raised his voice, ‘Play fair I say.’

It received the required laugh. ‘So now, I’ll put five large into the hand of the fellah who finds the snitch.’

An animated murmur. They liked the deal.

‘OK, then … go get ’im … oh, one more thing…

They paused.

‘Be careful out there.’

More polite laughter. Ol’ Tommy, he was a big kidder.

Then he got on the phone. His solicitor, chosen well.

‘Harry … it’s Tommy Logan.’

‘Tommy how are you?’

‘I’ve a wee bit o’ bother.’

‘Oh dear, maybe we can help.’

Harry was a Mason, knew where help was located.

‘There’s two policemen, a DI Roberts and his sergeant, a guy named Brant. They’ve begun to harass me, upset the missus, that sort of thing.’

‘We can’t have that.’

‘I knew you’d understand.’

‘Leave it to me Tommy, it’s already being processed.’

‘Thanks Harry.’

‘We must have that game of golf soon.’

‘Of course … ta-ra then.’

‘Bye.’

Unless Tommy took his hurley to the links, there was as much chance of nine holes as Brant being promoted.

The South London Press had a photo of Falls on the front page and the headline:

‘Shy Heroine Stops Clapham Rapist’

Shy because she refused an interview.

McDonald got a brief line as her partner. He wasn’t complaining. Brant’s version of the event had been accepted and if he got a little glory, all the better.

Rosie’s death had prevented a deeper investigation. It was known that a keg of scandal could be opened, so the authorities let it be.

Falls tried to talk to Roberts, cornered him in the canteen. He said, ‘I’m sorry about Rosie, I liked her a lot.’

‘Thanks, guv.’

She indicated his cup, offered, ‘More tea?’

‘No, I’m about finished.’ Which, roughly translated meant, ‘Spit it out.’

She tried. ‘It’s about the rapist, sir…

‘Oh yeah. Congratulations, you did well … bloody well.’

‘Sir, it’s about his death.’

‘Good riddance I say.’

‘Sir, on moral grounds…

He put up his hand, ‘Whoa, we’re coppers-morality has no place in it.’

‘But, sir-’

He quoted, ‘If a mere code of ethics could keep it legal, there’d be no need of us. I don’t give advice but lemme say this … Leave it alone.’

‘I don’t know if I can, sir.’

He stood up, said, ‘You’ve no choice. If there’s anything to be resolved here, it’s why you don’t appreciate the sergeant who saved your life.’

Walked away.

‘So he knows … God, why am I surprised?’

Roberts got the call to the Super’s office. No invitation to sit down, right to it.

‘You’re to lay off Tommy Logan.’

‘What?’

‘There’s a highly sensitive investigation underway. You’d only jeopardise months of work.’

‘Are you aware that he killed my brother?’

‘Are you aware I’m your superior officer and to be addressed as ‘sir’?’

Roberts felt reckless, dangerously so, said, ‘I don’t get it, Logan’s not a Mason.’

The Super was up, spitting, ‘I don’t think I like your inference, you’d be wise to proceed with great care.’

Roberts didn’t even hear him, was trying to put it together, then, ‘Wait a mo! It’s his bloody solicitor, that scumbag Harry Something. Christ yeah, he’s definitely in the lodge.’

‘That will be all Chief Inspector. I’m going to overlook your outburst, put it down to your grief. You can go.’

Roberts pulled himself together, prepared to leave. The Super added, ‘It would be a conflict of interest to have you on a family case.’

‘With all due respect, that’s bollocks … sir.’

Moving on

Sarah Cohen was Rosie’s replacement. On her arrival at the station, the desk sergeant said, ‘Cohen? A bloody Yid.’ She now knew what to expect. With curly brown hair, brown eyes and a snub nose, she was half-ways pretty. Like any new person, the voice in her head roared: