James Craig - Acts of Violence

‘But we have to confirm that.’

‘Yes, we have to confirm that.’ Fumbling in his jacket pocket, Carlyle pulled out his glasses, slipped them on and scanned the horizon. Quickly deciding that the glasses weren’t helping him see any better, he put them back in his pocket. ‘So, to recap, Popp used the credit card not far from here.’

‘We got a copy of the receipt for his shopping: battery-operated lamps, blankets, a gas stove – like he was going camping or something.’

Once again, Carlyle peered into the distance. ‘Which brought us to this place.’

‘Which brought us to this place,’ she echoed.

‘Because it’s not as if there are any other places they could go camping.’

‘He doesn’t have a tent,’ Elmhirst said. ‘At least, not as far as we know.’

‘Jesus. It’s all a bit thin.’

‘Simpson was very keen that we check it out,’ Elmhirst told him.

‘Yes, she was, wasn’t she? Very keen indeed.’

‘Maybe she knows something that we don’t.’

‘Perhaps. But that’s not really her style. The Commander is usually quite open. In my experience, she is very much a team player.’

Elmhirst grinned. ‘You like her, don’t you?’

‘We work well together,’ was all Carlyle would concede before he resumed his stroll down the road. ‘For whatever reason, she wants the place checked out, so I suppose we’d better go down there and get on with it.’

The two of them approached the ghost estate at a gentle pace, each lost in their own thoughts. For no apparent reason, Carlyle’s mind had turned to thoughts of 1980s music in general and Echo amp; the Bunnymen in particular. The chorus of ‘Villiers Terrace’ started playing on a loop in his head, growing in intensity with each repetition until he finally expelled it. Good band, he thought. They should have been more successful than they were. He wondered if, like everyone else, they had re-formed in recent years, to try and make some money on the nostalgia circuit. He vowed to find out; maybe he could persuade Alice to go to a gig with him.

By the time they passed a sign warning trespassers that they would be prosecuted, the inspector realized that he had long since lost sight of the flickering light that had been apparent when they had first left the car. From behind an overgrown hedge, the partially built properties stood in sullen silence, illuminated only by the light of a half-moon. Carlyle came to a halt at the main entrance, trying to gauge the size of the overall site. How long will it take me to search this place? he wondered. With the possibility of another debacle looming large, he glanced at the sergeant.

‘A hundred and something acres,’ Elmhirst said, reading his mind.

None the wiser, Carlyle nodded. ‘You wait here and I’ll go and see what I can find.’

‘That’s a lot of ground for one person to cover.’

Carlyle grinned. ‘I don’t want us both to get lost.’

‘OK,’ the sergeant nodded. ‘Don’t be too long though.’

‘If I’m not back in an hour, go and get Gapper.’

‘Will do.’

‘And remember, if things get out of hand again and there’s a problem you two can’t deal with, your first call is to Simpson. Leave the local plod out of this. They don’t even know we’re here.’ Registering her confused look, he added, ‘We’re not exactly playing this one by the book, are we?’

‘I suppose not.’

‘So let’s try and get in and out without anyone noticing.’

‘Yep.’

‘Good . . .’ he was just about to say girl , then thought better of it. No need to make his dinosaur tendencies any more apparent than was absolutely necessary. It was just that she was so terribly young; it brought out the worst in him in so many ways.

The sergeant looked at him solemnly, as if anticipating further pearls of wisdom.

‘Remember,’ the inspector joked, keen not to disappoint, ‘this is the how not to do it module of your training.’

‘I realize that,’ Elmhirst smiled patronizingly. ‘In fact, I think that’s one of the main reasons why Commander Simpson sent me to work with you in the first place.’

‘What?’ said Carlyle, suddenly affronted. ‘So that I could show you how to mess things up?’

‘No, no,’ she corrected him, ‘more to show me that there is still some leeway for independent action by mid-ranking officers within the often confusing and sometimes conflicting parameters set down by the organization for choosing a particular course of action in different circumstances.’

Bamboozled by the gobbledygook, he frowned. ‘Eh?’

‘I think the Commander wants me to understand that you can’t always hide behind the rule book and Health amp; Safety. Sometimes you have to simply trust your own judgement.’

‘Amen to that,’ said Carlyle, somewhat mollified by her simpler explanation.

‘The Commander described you as “flexible, if occasionally reckless”.’

We-ell. ‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’

‘That’s up to you.’ Reaching forward, she placed a hand on his shoulder, making him jump. ‘Just remember, however, that this is not the time to be reckless. Apart from everything else, we have to assume that Marcus Popp is armed.’

‘But not very dangerous,’ Carlyle quipped.

‘That sounds like reckless talk to me. He’s got a weapon, for heaven’s sake.’

‘I’m not worried about that,’ Carlyle responded, stepping smartly away from her grasp. ‘The gun is not going to be a factor here.’

‘You don’t know that,’ she scolded.

‘Look,’ he gestured towards the rotting buildings behind him, ‘if the two of them are holed up in this place, it really is game over. If he’s sitting here, with no idea about what to do with Kortmann, Popp has basically run out of ideas – assuming he ever had any in the first place.’

‘That’s a bit of an assumption.’

‘Always assume,’ Carlyle retorted. ‘You’ve always got to take an informed view, based on your experience. That’s what we’re paid to do, after all.’

‘I suppose so.’

‘Standing here, right now, we have to ask certain questions. What the hell’s Popp doing way out here? What’s that got to do with finding his mother? What does he want to do next?’ Elmhirst started to say something, but he cut her off. ‘The answer to each of the above is “nothing”. If he didn’t have a screw loose at the start of this whole escapade, he’s certainly got one loose now. Sitting on the damp concrete, worrying about his piles, he’s just waiting to be caught.’

‘That’s a lot of assumptions.’

‘That’s what being flexible is all about.’

‘And if they’re not here?’

‘If they’re not, we go home and I’ll have a moan at Simpson in the morning.’

Hands on hips, Elmhirst changed tack. ‘Maybe you should have brought a gun.’

The inspector was adamant. ‘I don’t like guns. Anyway, I’m not authorized to carry one. I’ve never shot a gun in my life.’ If those first two statements were true, the last was an outright lie. Carlyle knew only too well what it felt like to pull the trigger with the blood pounding in his ears. But that was another time, another place; an operation that was so far off piste that none of his colleagues in the Met could ever know about it.

Elmhirst gave him a funny look.

‘I know, I know. I’m a total dinosaur in so many ways. But look at it like this: Gregori, or Popp, whatever his name is, he could have killed Umar and me back at that farmhouse if he had wanted to. He has no intention of killing a cop.’

‘Another assumption.’

‘Another reasonable assumption.’