‘Only that when I was ironing a pair of his trousers last week, I came across a receipt for a meal in Romford.’
‘Can’t help you on that one.’
‘And last Saturday, when he left the house after lunch, he was wearing a red-and-white scarf, which came as a bit of a surprise as he supports Chelsea.’
‘Ah, their first mistake,’ said Josephine, ‘because Jack supports the Gunners, and has done since he was a child.’
‘I’m none the wiser,’ said Beth.
‘He told me all about Bob Wilson and Frank McLintock on our first date.’
‘Now I’m completely lost.’
‘Last Saturday Arsenal were playing Chelsea at home, so now we know where they both spent the afternoon.’
‘But I thought they weren’t allowed to be in contact with each other while William is under investigation?’
‘What proof do you have that he’s even under investigation?’
Beth thought for some time before she replied, ‘None, other than what he’s told me.’
‘Men will always tell you what they think you want to hear, and policemen are even worse. I suspect you’ve just been working on the wrong jigsaw. But if he ever admits he was never under investigation, don’t let him know you already knew. Meanwhile, for an under-fed mother, I can recommend the chocolate gateau.’
‘Right,’ said the commander. ‘As PC Bailey has left for Romford, perhaps someone can bring me up to date on her activities. Let’s start with you, DI Warwick.’
William opened his notebook. ‘PC Bailey spent every night of last week at DS Summers’s flat in Romford. She not only does the shopping and laundry for him, but also has her own latch key. On Thursday, she booked two tickets for a holiday in Malaga next month, so I think we can safely assume they’re an item.’
‘DC Pankhurst, do you have anything to add?’ asked the Hawk, switching his attention to the other side of the table.
Rebecca didn’t need her notebook. ‘Nicky hasn’t slept at our flat for the past fortnight. She made a brief appearance on Saturday morning, when she told me more about her latest boyfriend, who bore no resemblance to DS Summers.’
‘Did you press her for details?’ asked Paul.
‘Yes. She said his name was Alan Mitchell, and that he worked for an estate agent in Croydon, but she didn’t say which one.’
‘Don’t press her any further,’ said Paul. ‘Now we know the truth, we don’t need her to become suspicious.’
‘Understood, sir,’ said Rebecca, looking relieved.
‘Pity Nicky doesn’t know the difference between getting laid and being screwed,’ said Jackie.
‘Right, William,’ said the Hawk without comment, ‘you can come off night duty and turn your attention to DS Summers’s daytime activities. I’m keen to find out more about his informer, John Smith, and if he actually exists.’
‘Surely he exists,’ said Rebecca. ‘Otherwise where’s the money going?’
‘Straight into his back pocket,’ said Jackie, ‘because he’s nothing more than a figment of Summers’s imagination?’
‘How does that work?’ asked Rebecca.
‘It’s not unknown,’ said the Hawk, ‘for a bent copper to invent an informer who regularly comes up with information he already knows about, so when it comes to paying off his snitch, there’s only one pig’s snout in the trough.’
‘I’ve recently come across a variation on that particular scam,’ said Paul. ‘After a major crime has been committed, the bent copper backdates an earlier intelligence report crediting his informer with supplying the original information. It’s a system known as double and quits.’
‘I must be getting old,’ said the Hawk, ‘because I’ve never come across that one before.’
‘As the crooks become more sophisticated,’ said Jackie, ‘so do the bent coppers.’
‘So must we,’ said the Hawk, ‘if we’re to stay ahead of them.’
‘Well, that could explain Summers’s new Jaguar, the flashy suits and a holiday in Malaga,’ said William. ‘But it would certainly help us prove Summers is bent if we were able to show that John Smith doesn’t even exist.’
‘I think I may have come up with how we can do just that,’ said the Hawk. He handed out a single sheet of paper to each member of the team. ‘I’ll allow the three of you a week to take my plan apart, or better still, improve on it, so when we meet again next Monday I can give DI Warwick the authority to set the whole operation in motion. Which reminds me — as far as anyone outside this office is concerned, and that includes PC Bailey, DI Warwick is still suspended, and his tribunal won’t be sitting for at least another six weeks. So you all know exactly how much time you’ve got to nail Rashidi, Lamont, Summers and Roberts. Any questions?’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Jackie. ‘If Lamont gives me another brown envelope, can I book a holiday to Malaga?’
21
Rebecca followed Lamont down the crowded escalator with Marlboro Man a few steps behind. Lamont didn’t spot her, and neither of them noticed Ross.
When Lamont reached the platform, he made his way to the far end, and didn’t have to wait long before the next train came whooshing in. He climbed into the rear carriage, and although it was almost empty, he sat down next to a man who was reading the Evening Standard. They didn’t acknowledge each other.
Rebecca found a seat at the other end of the carriage, and opened her paperback, but didn’t start reading.
‘You wanted to see me, sir,’ said Summers. He still couldn’t get out of the habit of calling his old gaffer sir.
‘You wouldn’t have anything I could help you with, by any chance?’ asked Lamont. ‘I’m a bit skint at the moment.’
‘Not right now,’ said Summers. ‘But in a couple of weeks’ time we could both be back in business.’
‘Can’t be too soon,’ said Lamont, trying not to sound desperate. ‘I’ve got one or two bills that I can’t put off for much longer.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Summers, who was delighted to hear it, as it gave him the whip hand. ‘Anything in particular?’ he asked, like any good detective.
‘I’ve had a bit of a bad run on the horses lately, and the bookies are beginning to breathe down my neck.’
‘And they have such bad breath.’
‘Also, the new house is turning out to be more expensive than I’d budgeted for, and my wife will kill me if we have to put it back on the market. He paused before saying, ‘You’re not married, are you?’
‘No. Never found the right girl.’
‘I’ve found three of them,’ said Lamont, ‘and none of them turned out to be right. Should have taken Jimmy Goldsmith’s advice. If it flies, floats or fucks, rent it.’
Summers burst out laughing, which caused Rebecca to look around, but not MM.
‘Don’t have that problem myself,’ said Summers. ‘There’s more than enough skirt at the nick to satisfy my needs, not to mention out there on the street.’
‘I thought you had a girlfriend,’ said Lamont, glancing towards the other end of the carriage.
‘Not for much longer. She’s just about reached her sell-by date.’
‘I’ve seen that woman somewhere before,’ whispered Lamont.
Summers looked in Rebecca’s direction. ‘Not my type.’
‘Do you think she could be following us?’
Summers took a closer look.
Rebecca became uncomfortably aware the two men were taking an interest in her. She’d have to get off at the next stop and inform William her cover had been blown. He’d already told her he was surprised she’d lasted that long. She turned another page of her book, painfully aware that it was the same novel she’d been reading every time she’d travelled on the Circle line.