Peter Robinson - Bad Boy

“True enough. It’s so hard to be certain, though, isn’t it? I’m more used to following orders. The Firearms Cadre is very discipline oriented.”

“I suppose it has to be,” said Annie. “But that wouldn’t suit Alan, you’re right. Still, I don’t suppose it was Alan Banks you came to talk about?”

“In a way, it is,” said Nerys. “Mmm, this is nice.” Annie shrugged. “Just cheap Italian plonk.”

Nerys stood up again and walked over to a framed watercolor of Eastvale Castle in the evening light. “That’s good,” she said. “Whoever painted it really caught the light at that time of a winter evening.”

“Thank you,” said Annie.

Nerys’s jaw dropped. “You mean…? You? I never dreamed.” She smiled. “Honest?”

“Honest,” said Annie, feeling herself blush. “Why would I lie? It’s all right. Why should you know, anyway? It’s just a hobby, that’s all.”

“But you’re so good. So talented. Have you ever thought-”

“Look, Nerys, I appreciate the compliment and all, but can you just get to the point. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to appear rude, but…” Nerys sat down again. “No. No. Of course. You’re right. I suppose I’m just nervous, that’s all. I tend to blather on a bit when I’m nervous.”

“Why should you be nervous?”

“Well, you’re a DI and I’m just a lowly PC.”

“You’re hardly lowly. Besides, you’re the one with the gun.”

“I’m not carrying. Honest.” She held her arms out. “Want to check?”

“The point?” said Annie.

Nerys finally let her arms drop, sat back down in the chair and seemed to relax a little. She ran her finger around the rim of her glass. “That stuff at the meeting yesterday, about Mrs. Doyle asking for DCI Banks. Is it true?”

“Yes, it’s true,” said Annie. “They’re old friends. Neighbors.”

“Would he have gone?”

“I think so. Probably. But he’s not here.”

“Where is he?”

“America. A long way away.”

Nerys took a sip of wine. “Pity he wasn’t here. It would have saved us all a hell of a lot of trouble.”

“Not what Chambers thinks.”

“Chambers is an arsehole.” Nerys put her hand to her mouth. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that in front of you.”

Annie couldn’t help but laugh. “No, you shouldn’t,” she said. “But you hit the nail right on the head.”

“I understand you worked for him once?”

“For my sins. You know a lot.”

“When the shit hits the fan like this, I make it my business to know as much as I can.”

Annie raised an eyebrow. “Your friend in Human Resources again?”

Nerys grinned. “Another one, this time. Records.”

“My, my, but you must have a lot of friends.”

“No. That’s the problem. I don’t. I’ve never felt so alone. So isolated.”

“But that’s ridiculous,” said Annie. “You AFO teams have a reputation for being close and tight-knit. Your lives depend on one another.”

“It’s true enough on the job,” said Nerys. “It’s our training. But it doesn’t always work that way off duty.” She leaned forward in her chair and looked Annie in the eye. The directness and intensity of her gaze were disconcerting. “Look, I’m a woman in a man’s world. More than that. I’m a gay woman in a man’s shooting club. You might think they treat me like one of the lads, but they look at me more as a freak.”

“I’m sure that’s not the case.”

Nerys’s upper lip curled in a sneer. “What do you know?”

“Nothing, I suppose,” said Annie. “What got you into it in the first place, then? I mean the Firearms Cadre?”

“I didn’t really know what I wanted to do. I mean, in the force. I did all the courses-surveillance, vehicle pursuit, worked undercover, even traffic. I was all over the map.”

“And?”

“I suppose it was my dad, really. He was a para. Real macho. Got killed in Iraq two and a half years ago. Another sniper. Dad was really a perfectionist, a technician. I grew up around guns, the smell of them, the mechanics. Christ, I could dismantle and reassemble a Hechler and Koch or a Parker-Hale in the dark, going by sound and touch alone.”

“That sounds like a useful skill,” said Annie. “Well, you never know.”

“But you never thought of this before, when you first joined?”

“Not really. It wasn’t as if I wanted to follow in my dad’s footsteps. Not until he got killed. Then it all seemed to make sense. And I’m good at it. They fast-tracked me. I’m the youngest on the unit apart from Warby.” They let the silence stretch for a while, as Nerys no doubt thought about her dead father and Annie thought about Banks. Where was he? Los Angeles? Reno? Tucson? She knew he was somewhere in the American southwest. She wished she were there with him. “I don’t want to be on Firearms Cadre forever, though,” Nerys said.

“Ambitious?”

“A bit, I suppose. I’d like to work in counterterrorism eventually.”

“Sounds challenging.”

“I like a challenge. That’s also why I’m worried about…you know…all this…”

“A big blot on your copybook?”

“Yes.”

“There’s probably not an officer in the service who hasn’t made a mistake. I mean, there’s some people would say DCI Banks is a walking disaster area. Our friend Chambers, for a start.”

“What’s he really like?”

“Chambers?”

“Yes. He reminds me of that fat comedian with the bowler hat, the one in those old black-and-white films.”

“Oliver Hardy?”

“That’s the one. But seriously. Do you think he supports gay rights? Has a soft spot for cuddly lesbians?”

Anne couldn’t help but laugh. She topped up their wineglasses. The level in Nerys’s was much lower than hers, she noticed. “No, I shouldn’t think so. He’s more the kind who thinks every woman he meets can’t wait to drop her knickers for him. And he probably believes that all a lesbian needs to cure her is a good stiff twelve inches of Reginald Chambers. Though my guess is it’s closer to three or four inches.”

Nerys laughed. “But what do you really think about him?”

Annie swirled the wine in her glass, then drank some more. She didn’t like remembering her time with Chambers; the memories weren’t good ones. “Let’s just say we didn’t get along too well and leave it at that, shall we?”

“So what can I expect? He’s going to try to crucify us, me and Warby, isn’t he?”

“Oh, for crying out loud,” said Annie. “Don’t be so bloody melodramatic. He’s not that bad. There are plenty worse than him around. I said we didn’t get along. That’s all. It was probably as much my fault as his. It wasn’t exactly my dream posting. I don’t get on with very many people, if you must know.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Annie checked her watch. “Look, I hate to rush you, but if you’ve finished…” There was no way she would be able to get back to her meditation now, not after this disruption, not to mention the wine, but at least she could watch TV or something and veg out. Almost anything would be better than this.

“I’m sorry,” said Nerys, her lower lip quivering. “I didn’t mean to spoil your evening…I mean, I just wanted to know if I could count on you, if you’re on my side. I’m sorry to waste your time. I’m just worried, that’s all.”

Then Annie saw tears in her eyes and softened. She hated herself for it, but she was a sucker for tears. Worse than any man she’d ever met. “Come on,” she said, pouring more wine. It was going down quickly; the bottle was almost empty. “Pull yourself together, Nerys. Look, Chambers isn’t going to crucify you. After all, it wasn’t you who fired the Taser. He’s an arsehole, yes, and a bully and a male chauvinist pig, but as far as I know he plays straight. At worst, he’ll play up to the media and give them what they want. He’s a PR man at heart, not a copper. But he’s not going to fit you up, for crying out loud. He’ll discover the facts and play it by the book, obnoxious bastard as he is.”