Peter Robinson - Bad Boy

“You’re after portioning out blame according to the demands of the media, that’s what you’re doing. Basic public relations. Let’s not try to dignify it. Remember who you’re talking to.”

“Well, if you’re going to take that attitude I can’t see us getting anywhere, can you?”

“Don’t get in a huff. It’s you who wants to talk to me, after all. Ask your bloody questions. And make it quick. Just remember, you’re not talking to some frightened probationary constable who’s forgotten to pay his tea money this week.”

Chambers puffed out his considerable chest. “It’s my brief to investigate the conduct of all officers concerned in the lethal discharge of a Taser against Patrick Doyle and the events leading up to that tragic occurrence. In case you don’t know, that incident happened on Monday morning at the home of the deceased during a routine police operation.”

“Routine? There was nothing routine about it from what I’ve heard.”

“Then perhaps you’ve heard wrong? Or you haven’t heard enough.”

“Anyway,” said Banks. “Like I said, I’m not involved. I was out of the country.”

“It’s my understanding that a woman came to this police station asking for you.”

“Juliet Doyle. Yes. I know her. But as I said, I wasn’t here.”

“In what capacity do you know her?”

“We used to be neighbors.”

“Is that all?”

“You’re trying my patience, Chambers.”

“So your relationship with the Doyle family was as a family friend?”

“Yes.”

“The daughter, too?”

“Yes. And Patrick was a good friend, so knock it off with the innuendos. There’s nothing there, and no reason for it.”

“I’m concerned as to why this woman should ask for you in person when she came to report an illegal handgun.”

“It’s natural enough to seek out someone you know in a difficult situation, isn’t it?”

“Don’t you think she did it because she expected special treatment?”

“I don’t know. It’s not my place to speculate as to motive. Or yours. As I said, a familiar face goes a long way if you’re upset.”

“Do you think Mrs. Doyle had any idea of the legal penalties involved in possessing a handgun?”

“I have no idea. Probably not. Most people don’t.”

“Because this is her daughter we’re talking about. And there’s no denying prison time would be involved.”

“She did what she thought was best.”

“That’s easy enough to say.”

Banks got up and walked over to the window again. The butcher over Market Street, to his right, was taking all the cuts of meat from his display window, and his assistant was scrubbing the trays. A last minute shopper dashed in through the door and the butcher looked up to smile and serve her. Banks turned to face Chambers. “Why are you asking me these questions? What do you hope to gain? I’ve already told you, I wasn’t here. You should be concentrating on the AFOs involved.”

“Don’t tell me my job.” Chambers thumped the table. “That woman asked for you specifically, and I want to know what you would have done if you’d been here.”

“Oh, that’s it,” said Banks. “We’re dealing in would-haves and what-ifs now, are we?”

“A man died.”

“You don’t have to remind me. He was my friend.”

“Could you have prevented it?”

“Could I? I don’t know. What does it matter? It would have been out of my hands. You want to know what I would have done? It’s easy. I would have got as much information as I could from Mrs. Doyle and tried to verify, then assess, the circumstances. In all likelihood I would have logged the incident, and it would have been passed on to our Area Control Room. The ACR would no doubt inform the Divisional Duty Inspector responsible for the area concerned, and she would, in turn, make the Force Duty Supervisor aware of the log. They would discuss the circumstances, and the Fsup would then ask that more information be gathered. Once that had been carried out, the Fsup would request that the DDI deploy a conventional double crewed response vehicle, ensuring that all officers have full Personal Protective Equipment. The Fsup would then…Do you really want me to go on?”

“No. That’s quite enough.”

“But that’s the procedure. Don’t try to teach your grandmother to suck eggs, Chambers.”

“You wouldn’t have gone around there by yourself?”

“Well, that would probably have been the best course of action to take, wouldn’t it? They would have been expecting me, so they wouldn’t have felt threatened. Mrs Doyle would have been accompanying me, and she would have let me in, so I wouldn’t have had to break down the door. And I wouldn’t have been carrying a Taser or a weapon of any kind. But that’s not following the rules, is it? What the bloody hell did you expect me to say?”

Chambers looked fit to burst. He made a noise somewhere between a huff and a snort, then lumbered to his feet again. “You’re not being helpful, you know. You’re impeding the investigation. I’ll be making a note of this.”

“I’m not impeding anything. This is pure fantasy. What happened, happened. I was five thousand miles away or more. But you do that,” said Banks calmly. “You go ahead and make your notes. But before you do, be aware of one thing.”

Chambers paused at the door. “And what may that be?”

“Things have changed since you started this particular witch-hunt-”

“I obj-”

“A policewoman has been shot. Annie Cabbot. My friend. My partner.” He felt himself choke up and struggled for control. Even as he spoke the word “partner,” it sounded odd to his ear. Blame Dashiell Hammett and three weeks in America. He would normally have referred to Annie as his colleague, or oppo, or even as his DI, but “partner” sounded good. She was. He would use it from now on. He remembered a line from The Maltese Falcon about when a man’s partner gets killed he’s supposed to do something. Annie hadn’t been killed, thank God, but he still knew that he had to do something, and he could start by putting Chambers in his place. Annie would approve.

“A policewoman has been shot,” Banks repeated. “The media and the politicians won’t be all over the AFOs and their Tasers from now on. They’ll be on our side. The hue and cry will be about how many illegal handguns are floating around out there, and you will have nothing to gain from crucifying anyone inside the department.”

“That’s not what I-”

“So why don’t you think about that? Circumstances change. If you want to be a poster boy for the media, get with the game. And make sure you’re on the right side. Close the door behind-”

Just then there was a tap at the door. Chambers stepped back and Detective Superintendent Gervaise popped her head around. “Didn’t interrupt anything, did I? Ah, Superintendent Chambers, I see you’re finding your way around without any difficulty. Alan, welcome back. Fancy a cup of tea and a chat? My office. Now.”

TRACY COULD tell that Jaff was fed up with walking. He had been quiet and sulky for the past hour, no doubt trying to come up with a new plan, like growing wings.

They had been walking under cover of as many wooded areas as they could find, which were few and far between up on the moors, and as far from even the most minor unfenced roads as they could get. At one point they had spent over an hour walking along the narrow bottom of a weed-and-nettle-choked gully, getting stung all over. Surely somebody must have found the abandoned car by now and reported it to the police, Tracy reckoned. She wondered how long it would take them to link it with her and Jaff and Annie. Would they have Vic’s name on their records? How was Annie doing? Was she still alive? There were too many questions she couldn’t answer.