Pickfords not moving us then, boss? Jesson asked.
Where dyou think you are, Alan the City Police? This is the good old Met remember? Pile everything into anything with four wheels thats been left in the yard with keys in and lets get out of this toilet. He still felt eyes upon him. Well come on, then. What you waiting for?
As the detectives burst into action, Sean slipped quietly into his office, summoning Donnelly and Sally with a nod of his head. Within a few seconds they were all gathered together.
Problem? Sally asked.
Not yet, he told her as Donnelly caught up with them.
Not yet what? he asked.
A problem, Sally filled him in.
Theres a first! Donnelly replied.
Yeah, well, Sean continued, Ive got a feeling we wont have to wait too much longer before something comes our way, and when it does its clearly not going to be anything straightforward and not something well be able to quietly get on with. The Yards full of senior officers with not enough to do wholl be more than keen to stick their noses where theyre not wanted and that means our business.
So? Sally asked.
So we need to be ready for anything, Sean warned them. Which is why I need you two to keep a fire burning under everyones arses until were up and running at the Yard. Understand?
Yes, guv, Sally answered.
Whatever, Donnelly agreed unhappily.
Im going to pack up some essentials and head over there ASAP check out the lay of the land before anyone else gets there.
Looking for anything in particular? Donnelly asked suspiciously.
No, Sean answered, too quickly. But lets just say Id rather we used the phones were taking with us than the ones that will have been left for us.
Thats a bit paranoid isnt it, guvnor? Sally asked.
Its the Yard, Sean reminded her. Being a little paranoid can go a long way to keeping you out of the brown sticky stuff.
Ive always avoided the place, Donnelly added. Things can get very political there very quickly. Thats why I always stuck with the Flying Squad squirrelled away in Tower Bridge, out of sight, out of mind beautiful.
However, Sean interrupted Donnellys reminiscing, the Yard it is, so just be mindful and be ready, he warned them. Ive got a feeling something really nastys heading our way, and heading our way very, very soon.
2
Sean staggered along the seventh-floor corridor carrying a brown cardboard box that was heavy enough to make him sweat. The heating at the Yard was turned up high to please the ageing computers housed within. He checked the doors as he passed them store rooms, empty rooms; occasionally a room with no sign, just a number and a few wary-looking people inside, silently raising their heads from their desks as he passed, disturbing their expectations of another day without change. He didnt bother to introduce himself but just kept walking down the unpleasantly narrow corridor that was no different to all the other corridors at New Scotland Yard, with the same polystyrene ceiling tiles and walls no thicker than plasterboard, all painted a shade of light brown that blended into the worn, slightly darker brown carpet. At least the floors dont squeak, he whispered to himself, remembering the awful rubber floors back at Peckham as he arrived at Room 714 and its closed door.
He half-expected the door to be locked in a final gesture of defiance from the now disbanded Arts and Antiques Squad a show of two fingers to Assistant Commissioner Addis, who Sean ironically always pictured living in a house surrounded by arts and antiques. Maybe one day Addis would get burgled and have to hastily re-form the squad in an effort to recover his own stolen treasures.
Sean balanced the heavy box on his raised thigh and tried the door handle, which to his surprise turned and opened, the door itself swinging aside in response to a good kick, allowing him to enter his new home from home.
Sean peered inside as best he could before stepping over the threshold. Jesus Christ, he exclaimed as he walked deeper into the office, which was about half the size of the one theyd just left and looked like a hand-grenade had gone off in it. Clearly the Arts and Antiques boys and girls had been moved out in a hurry, leaving very little but rubbish and broken computers behind. He congratulated himself on the decision to tell his own team to ransack the Peckham office as part of the move. He dumped the box on an abandoned desk and crossed the office to the still-closed blinds cheap, grey plastic venetians. He tugged the string, expecting the blind to neatly, if noisily, roll up to the ceiling, but the entire thing came crashing to the floor, the reverberating sound appearing to go on for ever as it bounced back and forth off the empty walls. Sean stood frozen, his face a grimace, long after the sound had faded. He turned back towards the door, anticipating a flurry of concerned people coming to investigate, but no one came, although he thought he heard laughter from further down the hallway. He moved along the line of blinds and gingerly pulled the strings until all were open and he was able to look down on the streets of St Jamess Park below, the traffic little more than a distant murmur.
Turning his back on the windows, he surveyed the office in the daylight and didnt like what he saw any better than before. It was going to be a real squeeze and arguments would abound as to who was entitled to a desk of their own, but at least there were two offices at one end of the main room, partitioned off with the usual polystyrene boards and sheets of Perspex, all held together by strips of aluminium. He made his way to the larger office and stepped inside, deciding it was about as big as his last one. He decided hed give it to Sally and Donnelly to share while he took the smaller one. At the very least it might placate the unhappy Donnelly.
Leaving the office, he retrieved the heavy cardboard box that contained his most precious policing tools and entered the smaller office, dumping the box on the standard-sized desk that would soon be covered in keyboards, computer screens, phones and files. Under the desk he found the usual cheap three-drawer cabinet and miraculously the previous owner had left the keys in the top lock. Only someone leaving the force for good would abandon such a prized possession. Sean felt a twang of jealousy as he imagined the previous owner skipping out of the office after their last day at work, knowing they would never be returning. He shook the thought away and looked around for a chair, finding a swivel one pushed into the corner of the room, foam peeking from the rip in the seat cover. Never mind it would have to do.
Before sitting he began to unpack the contents of the box the few personal things first, placed on top of everything else where they were least likely to be damaged: a photograph of his wife, Kate, and of his smiling daughters, Mandy and Louise, and finally a small silver cross on a thin silver chain, given to him by his mother when he was just a boy. Shed told him it would protect him. It hadnt, but still hed kept it without knowing why. He hung it over the corner of the frame that held Kates picture and remembered being dragged to church as a child, never to return as an adult, despite his mothers frequent encouragement.
He continued to unpack his things: his Detectives Training Course Manual otherwise known as The Bible, a copy of Butterworths Criminal Law and the Police and Criminal Evidence Act, old files kept for reference, stationery and even the landline phone hed commandeered from his old office back at Peckham. Every so often he glanced up from arranging his new desk to look exactly like his old one and stared into the empty main office imagining, almost seeing how it would soon look the characters who he so strongly associated with Peckham transported to this strange new environment, working away at computers, phones clamped between ears and shoulders as they hurriedly scribbled notes, the constant chatter and noise bringing the place to life. He blinked the imaginary detectives away, returning the office to its eerie emptiness and leaving him feeling strangely lonely. It wasnt something he felt often, not since his childhood when being alone generally meant being safe. He shook his head and continued to empty the box, but a voice close by broke the silence and made him jump a little, leaving him surprised that he hadnt felt the other person approaching as he usually would have.
Settling in all right I trust, Inspector? Assistant Commissioner Addis asked from the doorway.
More moving in than settling in, Sean answered.
Indeed, Addis agreed, a thin, unpleasant grin fixed on his face, his eyes sparkling with cunning and intelligence. The office is on the small side, I know, but Im sure it will serve its purpose.
Itll be fine, Sean told him without enthusiasm, returning to the task of unpacking.
Good, Addis said, walking deeper into the room. Its fortunate youve arrived early, he added, making Sean look up.
Really? Sean asked, already concerned about what was coming next. How so?
Gives us time to chat in private. Addis looked around at the emptiness as if to make the point.
About what? Sean asked without trying to veil the suspicion in his voice.
Your new position, of course here at the Yard. Im assuming Superintendent Featherstone briefed you?
He did more or less.
You should thank me, Addis told him without a hint of irony. Youre free now. Free of all those tedious investigations a trained chimp could solve: husband strangles wife to death; drug dealer shoots other drug dealer; teenage gang member stabs other teenage gang member. I think we can leave the mundane to the less gifted to solve, dont you?
Sean shrugged his shoulders. I suppose so.
Suppose so? Addis asked. You know so I think. Yes? Sean said nothing. You know one of the things we do really badly in the police, Sean? We waste talent. But I dont waste talent when I see it, Sean I use it, in whatever way I think best.
And thats why Im here? Sean asked. To be used?
Addis gave a short, shallow laugh before pulling a thin manilla file from under his armpit that Sean hadnt registered he was carrying until now. Addis flopped it on the desk, some of the documents inside spilling out, including a photograph of a radiant, beautiful child. Your first case, Addis told him without emotion. A four-year-old child has gone missing in suspicious circumstances from his home in Hampstead.