Gillian Slovo - Ten Days

11 p.m.

The Lovelace rang out with shouts and the pounding of feet, people running either towards or away from the trouble.

‘Jayden’s not back.’ As Lyndall turned away from the balcony’s edge, her eyes filled with tears. ‘Something must have happened. I’ve got to go and get him.’

‘I’m sorry, darling, I can’t let you.’

‘You know what Jayden’s like: he always wants to please. They’ll make him do things and they won’t keep him safe. Please — I have to find him.’

‘You’re a mixed-race kid in what is effectively a race riot. If the police pick you up — and in that circumstance they’ll go for anybody they can get — you’ll be in trouble.’

‘I don’t care.’

‘Well, I do.’

Lyndall bunched her fist and hissed out one word — ‘Hypocrite’ — through tight lips.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘You must have lectured me a million times on how we are only strong if we band together. And now, when one of the vulnerable that you’re always on about is in trouble, all that matters to you is that your daughter is safe.’

It was a speech delivered on such a stream of righteous indignation that it almost made Cathy laugh. Except this was no laughing matter. ‘You’re my daughter and you’re only fourteen. It’s my job to keep you safe.’

‘And Jayden is my friend. It’s my job to keep him safe.’

‘I’m sorry, but the answer is still no.’ Cathy held up a hand to stop a fresh onslaught: ‘How about if I went?’

‘He doesn’t trust you like he trusts me.’

‘That’s as may be but, bottom line, I don’t care how many times you ask me, I will not let you out in it. But I can go. If you’d like me to?’

Lyndall gave an almost imperceptible nod.

‘Okay, but only if you promise to stay put.’

Another, slightly more emphatic, nod.

‘You also need to promise that you will not come looking for either of us. Do you promise that?’

And a third.

‘I want to hear you say it.’

‘Yes, Mum, I promise.’ Such a small voice — it told Cathy that, despite her bravado, Lyndall might be relieved not to have to head back out onto the streets. Hardly surprising. It had been scary enough when they pushed their way out of the melee; it was bound to be even scarier now.

‘Okay. I’ll go and see if I can find him. Meanwhile, you need to get inside and stay inside. Any trouble, any at all, even if you think it may just be your imagination, ring me. If I don’t answer — it’ll probably be too noisy for me to hear my mobile — ring Pius. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, Mum. I understand. And,’ when Lyndall kissed her on the cheek, Cathy realised that her daughter was almost as tall as her, ‘thanks, Mum. Please be careful.’ She went into the flat and closed the door.

Submission to the internal inquiry of the Metropolitan Police into Operation Bedrock

Submission 601/b/1: written submission by Chief Inspector William (Billy) Ridgerton

I was the cadre trained in public order critical incidence on call on the weekend of the Rockham disturbances.

I arrived at the scene at 2235 hours. There were two cordons, one with unprotected police officers and no disorder whatsoever to the south. To the north was a large barricade with members of the public throwing missiles, including petrol bombs. The crowd numbered in the region of three hundred, with a nucleus of the crowd causing problems and a high proportion of onlookers.

I located a chief inspector based in Rockham who filled me in as to the outbreak of the disturbances. I then contacted Silver in Littleworth and informed them that I was faced with three immediate tasks: protection and security of the station; the creation of a reactionary gap in which my officers could work to alleviate the pressure to the north and, if possible, arrest troublemakers; and the creation of a sterile corridor for the LFB and LAS to advance, since by this point fires were being set.

We were light on resources, especially protected officers. Initially I had at my command a coterie of TSG officers and some Level 2 trained officers seconded for aid. I had urgent need of more shield-trained officers and I informed Silver of this. I also informed Silver that I had two to three PSUs who had been in the front line for three hours and who needed to be relieved.

By 2300 hours, having taken stock of the situation, I and my men pushed forwards.

11.05 p.m.

They had set up Gold Command on the fourth floor.

A line of seated officers was monitoring the bank of screens, their computers providing the sound, as they communicated with Silver in Littleworth and Bronze on the ground. In the middle of the room there was a projected map of Rockham complete with the position of rioters, onlookers and emergency services. It was such a rapidly changing scenario it soon took on the look of a fast-forwarded weather map except that reports coming in made it clear that the clouds hanging over Rockham would soon be the smoke of burning buildings rather than that morning’s mysterious promise of rain.

Joshua stood to one side as Anil Chahda took charge. As he watched his deputy calmly issuing orders, his respect for Chahda increased. Having previously seemed stolid, Chahda was now showing how fast, and how effectively, he could move when he had to. Which is more than could be said for those in charge of Rockham police station.

‘What on earth did they think they were doing leaving a patrol car and a bus exposed?’

‘I expect it’s down to inexperience on the ground, sir,’ Chahda said. ‘Gaby Wright was unfortunately away. She’s on her way back and her task, and ours, is to take control. You agree that arrests are not an immediate priority?’

‘Yes. Not enough men on the ground. They can always organise CCTV grabs afterwards. For the moment, let’s just concentrate on making sure that nobody gets killed.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Anil smiled, which was not a sight Joshua had ever seen before.

What a mess, and before Joshua had even completed a week in post. By the looks of it even Billy Ridgerton, as capable as he undoubtedly was, would have to work a miracle to stop the trouble with the scarce resources available to him. Wouldn’t be easy, either, to give him more, what with it being Saturday and so many of the men having opted to take their annual leave during this hot spell.

‘Don’t let me get in your way, Anil. Carry on.’

‘Thanks, sir.’ Anil Chahda half turned away but then froze. ‘Uh oh. What’s he doing here?’

‘He’ was Home Secretary Peter Whiteley, who was just then coming through the door.

Damn. They had rioting in Rockham and every indication that it was about to spread. All they needed now was a Home Secretary who, knowing him, was trying to steal a march on his PM and the Mayor by acting the strong man.

‘We need to deal with this. Come with me.’ Joshua made his way over to the door, with Chahda at his heels. ‘Home Secretary, this is a surprise.’ To Peter Whiteley’s bodyguards who were standing to attention, he added, ‘That’s fine, men, relax,’ and then, ‘How can I help you, Home Secretary?’

‘I’ve come to see how I can help you.’ Peter Whiteley lurched forward.

Was he drunk? ‘Thank you, Home Secretary, but as I’m sure you can see,’ Joshua’s gesture embraced all the officers working quietly at their desks, ‘we’re on it.’

‘Anything you need.’ Another lurch: he must be drunk. ‘Permission to use Section 44 for example.’

Oh great. In a situation when they didn’t even have enough officers on the ground to contain the trouble, never mind arrest any of the troublemakers, this idiot was suggesting that they use the blanket provisions of the Terrorism Act. And with the Rockham nick under siege, where did he think they were going to put the people they arrested?