He shook his head in admiration. Ever thought of becoming a detective, Brannigan? You dont ring 999 for a car theft, do you?
Not unless they also ran you over.
When I realized the car was on the missing list, I wished they had, he said. I thought, if Brannigan doesnt kill me, the money men will. Got a number for the Dibble?
I recited the familiar number of Greater Manchester Polices main switchboard. Contrary to popular mythology about private eyes, Bill and I do have a good working relationship with the law. Well, most of the time. Lets face it, theyre so overworked these days that theyre pathetically grateful to be handed a stack of evidence establishing a case thatll let them give some miserable criminal a good nicking.
Richard got through almost immediately. While he gave the brief details over the phone, I wondered whether I should call Andrew Broderick and give him the bad news. I decided against it. Its bad enough to lose twenty grands worth of merchandise without having a nights sleep wrecked as well. I must point that out to Richard some time.
Chapter 3
Two nights later, it happened again. I was about to deal Kevin Costner a fatal blow in a game of Battle Chess when an electronic chirruping disturbed our joust. Costner dissolved in a blue haze as I struggled up from the dream, groping wildly for the phone. My arm felt as heavy as if I really was wearing the weighty medieval armour of a knight in a tournament. Thatll teach me to play computer games at bedtime. Brannigan, I grunted into the phone.
Kate? Sorry to wake you. The voice was familiar, but out of context it took me a few seconds to recognize it. The voice and I came up with the answer simultaneously. Ruth Hunter here.
I propped myself up on one elbow and switched on the bedside lamp. Ruth. Give me a second, will you? I dropped the phone and scrabbled for my bag. I pulled out a pad and pencil, and scribbled down the time on the clock. 02:13. For a criminal solicitor to wake me at this time of night it had to be serious. Whichever one of Mortensen and Brannigans clients had decided my beauty sleep was less important than their needs was going to pay dear for the privilege. They werent going to get so much as ten free seconds. I picked up the phone and said, OK. You have my undivided attention. What is it that wont keep?
Kate, there is no way of making this pleasant. Im sorry. Ive just had Longsight police stations custody sergeant on to me. Theyve arrested Richard. Ruths voice was apologetic, but she was right. There was no way of making that news pleasant.
Whats he done? Had a few too many and got caught up in somebody elses war? I asked, knowing even as I did that I was being wildly optimistic. If that was all it was, Richard would have been more interested in getting his head down for a kip in the cells than in getting the cops to call Ruth out.
Im afraid not, Kate. Its drugs.
Is that all? I almost burst out laughing. This is the 1990s, Ruth. How much can they give him for a lump of draw? He never carries more on him than the makings for a couple of joints.
Kate, its not cannabis. Ruth had that tone of voice that the actors on hospital dramas use when theyre about to tell someone their nearest and dearest probably isnt going to make it. If it was cannabis, believe me, I wouldnt have bothered calling you.
I heard the words, but I couldnt make sense of them. The only drug Richard ever uses is draw. In the two years weve been together, Ive never known him drop so much as half a tab of E, in spite of the number of raves and gigs he routinely attends. Its got to be a plant, then, I said confidently. Someones had it in for him and theyve slipped something into his pocket.
I dont think so, Kate. Were talking about two kilos of crack.
Crack. Fiercely addictive, potentially lethal, crack cocaine is the drug everybody in narcotics prevention has the heebie-jeebies about. For a moment, I couldnt take it in. I know two kilos of crack isnt exactly bulky, but youd have to notice you had it about your person. He was walking around with two kilos of crack on him? That cant be right, Ruth, I managed.
Not walking around. Driving. I dont have any details yet, but he was brought in by a couple of lads from traffic. Im afraid it gets worse, Kate. Apparently the car he was in was stolen.
I was out of bed, pulling knickers and tights out of the top drawer. Well, who was he with, then? He cant have known he was in a hot motor!
My stomach knotted as Ruth replied, He was on his own. No passengers.
This is like a bad dream, I said. You know what hes like. Can you see Richard as a major-league car thief and drug dealer? Where are you now, Ruth? I asked.
Im on my way out the door. The sooner I get in to see him, the sooner we can get this business straightened out. Youre right. Richards no villain, she said reassuringly.
Too true. Look, Ruth, thanks for letting me know. I appreciate it. I fastened my bra and moved over to the wardrobe door.
Ill keep you posted, she said. Speak to you soon.
Sooner than you think, I told myself as I shrugged into a cream polo-neck knitted cotton top. I grabbed my favourite knock-em-dead suit, a lightweight wool number in a grey and moss green weave. Of course, dressing on the run, my legs tangled in the trousers as I made for the hall and I ended up sprawled on the floor, face smacked up against the skirting board, forced to recognize that it was too long since Id cleaned the house. Cursing in a fluent monotone, I made it as far as the porch and pulled a pair of flat loafers out of the shoe cupboard. On my way out of the door, I remembered the route I was planning to go down, and hurried back into the living room, where I picked up the slim black leather briefcase I use to impress prospective clients with my businesslike qualities.
As I started the car, I noticed Richards Beetle wasnt in its usual parking space. What in Gods name was going on? If hed gone out in his own car, what was he doing driving round in the middle of the night in a stolen car with a parcel of heavy drugs? More to the point, did the owners of the drugs know whod driven off with their merchandise? Because if they did, I didnt give much for Richards chances of seeing his next birthday.
I pulled up in the visitors car park at Longsight nick a couple of minutes later. There wasnt much competition for parking places that time of night. I knew Id have at least fifteen minutes to kill, since Ruth had to drive all the way over from her house in Hale. Usually, I dont have much trouble keeping my mind occupied on stake-outs. Maybe thats because I dont have to do it too often, given the line of work Mortensen and Brannigan specialize in. A lot of private eyes have to make the bulk of their income doing mind-and-bum-numbing bread-and-butter surveillance work, but because we work mainly with computer crime and white-collar fraud, we spend a lot more of our backside-breaking hours in other peoples offices than we do outside their houses. But tonight, the seventeen minutes I spent staring at the dirty red brick and tall blank windows of the rambling, mock-Gothic police station felt like hours. I suppose I was worried. I must be getting soft in my old age.
I spotted Ruths car as soon as she turned into the car park. Her husbands in the rag trade, and he drives a white Bentley Mulsanne Turbo. When she gets dragged out of bed in the middle of the night, Ruth likes to drive the Bentley. It doesnt half get up the noses of the cops. Her regular clients love it to bits. As the dazzling headlights in my rear-view mirror dimmed to black, I was out of my car and waving to Ruth.
The drivers window slid down with an almost imperceptible hum. She didnt stick her head out; she waited for me to draw level. I grinned. Ruth didnt. Youll have a long wait, Kate, she said, a warning in her voice.
I ignored the warning. Ruth, you and I both know youre the best criminal lawyer in the city. But we also both know that being an officer of the court means there is a whole raft of things you cant even think about doing. The kind of shit Richard seems to have got himself in, he needs someone out there ducking and diving, doing whatever it takes to dig up the information thatll get him off the hook with the cops and with the dealers. Im the one whos going to have to do that, and the most efficient way for that process to get started is for me to sit in on your briefing.
Give her her due, Ruth heard me out. She even paused for the count of five to create the impression she was giving some thought to my suggestion. Then she slowly shook her head. No way, Kate. I suspect you know the provisions of PACE as well as I do.
I smiled ruefully. The Police and Criminal Evidence Act hadnt exactly been my bedtime reading when it became law, but I was reasonably familiar with its provisions. I knew perfectly well that the only person a suspect was entitled to have sitting in on their interview with the police was his or her solicitor. There is one way round it, I said.
Theres something about the mind of a criminal solicitor. They cant resist discovering any new wrinkle in the law. Dangle that as a carrot and theyll bite your arm off faster than a starving donkey. Go on, Ruth said cautiously. I swear her eyes sparkled.
Trainee solicitors who are just starting criminal work usually learn the ropes by bird-dogging a senior brief like yourself, I said. And that includes sitting in on interviews in police stations.
Ruth smiled sweetly. Not in the middle of the night. And youre not a trainee solicitor, Kate.
True, Ruth, but I did do two years of a law degree. And as you yourself pointed out not five minutes since, I do know my way around PACE. Im not going to blow it out of ignorance of the procedures. I couldnt remember the last time Id had to be this persuasive. Before I knew where I was, Id be down on my knees begging. This was going to be the most expensive night out Richard Barclay had ever had.
Ruth shook her head decisively. Kate, if were going to quote each other, let me remind you of your opening speech. As an officer of the court, there are a whole lot of things I cant even think about doing. Im afraid this is one of them. As she spoke, the window rose again.
I stepped back to allow Ruth to open the door and get out of her living room on wheels. She let the door close with a soft, expensive click. She took a deep breath, considering. While I waited for her to say something, I couldnt help admiring her style. Ruth looked nothing like a woman whose sleep had been wrecked by the call that had dragged her out of bed. There was nothing slapdash about her understated make-up and her long blonde hair was pulled back in a neat scalp plait, the distinguished silver streaks at the temples glinting in the street lights. She was in her middle thirties, but the only giveaway was a faint cluster of laughter lines at the corners of her eyes. She wore a black frock coat over a cream silk shirt with a rolled neck, black leggings and black ankle boots with a high heel. The extra height disguised the fact that she had to be at least a size eighteen. Wed been friends ever since shed been the guest speaker at my university Women In Law group, and Id never seen her look anything other than immaculate. If I didnt like her so much, Id hate her.