Authors: J. J. Salkeld
Tags: #Detective and Mystery Fiction, #Noir, #Novella
Tuesday, 2nd September
11.16am, Carlisle Central Police Station. Observation room, interview room suite.
Pepper was watching the old PC’s face while DC Henry Armstrong was speaking. He didn’t look happy about the way that things were going, and Pepper didn’t blame him.
‘So, Amanda, you know that we’ve searched your flat, don’t you?’ asked Armstrong.
‘You won’t find owt.’
‘You’re right, we didn’t. The cupboards really were bare. And you’ve got three kids, right?’
‘Aye. One’s a baby. Why do you think I was shoplifting? It was all food, weren’t it? It’s just a caution for that, if it’s just food. That’s what I’ve heard, anyway. If not I’d have gone for smaller items and sold them round the estate, like. So are you going to do me for it, or not?’
Armstrong glanced at the PC, who turned his head towards him slightly in return but neither nodded nor shook his head.
‘You’re admitting it then?’ said Armstrong.
‘Aye, of course I am. Now can I get out of this toilet? My mum hates having the kids, and I’ve been here for bloody hours already. Just give me my voucher for the food bank and we can all get on with our day, like. I’ve got a lot on.’
‘Like what?’
‘That’s none of your business, copper. Christ, what is all this? Do you fancy me, like? Or are you religious? Is that it?’
‘I’m just trying to establish the facts, that’s all, Amanda.’
‘That’s easy. I nicked a few bags of food, I got caught by PC Plod here, and now you charge me, or you don’t. End of. Game over, like.’
‘I know, but I just wanted to try to understand why you did it, so we can help you make sure that it doesn’t happen again….’
‘For pity’s sake’ said Pepper, turning fast to get out into the corridor, and then into the interview room next door. ‘What the hell does he bloody well think this is? Hug a hoodie week?’
PC Jackson glanced up at Pepper when she walked in, then quickly down at his watch. She knew precisely what that meant. There was only forty five minutes until the end of his shift, and there was plenty of paperwork to get through before then. And Pepper knew PC Jackson well enough to know that unpaid overtime was not going to be an option. Not today, not ever. And in this instance she didn’t even blame him, the work-shy old bastard.
‘DC Armstrong, could you spare me a second?’
Armstrong looked startled, and tried to disentangle his long limbs from the chair and table legs. It was like watching a young giraffe get up, thought Pepper, as she lead them both out into the corridor.
She didn’t speak until they were in the observation room.
‘What was going on in there, Henry? Is there something wrong? Was she coerced into doing it or something, do you think?’
‘No, boss, nothing like that.’
‘Then what’s the delay? You’ll soon get to know Amanda. She’s one of our best customers. Comes back regularly, and never gives any trouble, so she’s good for the stats and great for the blood pressure. She takes the crime, and doesn’t ever have to do any time. Everyone’s a winner.’
‘Except her kids.’
Pepper looked at him sharply. Was that a dig? No. The lad was clueless, and anyway it wouldn’t be bloody fair. There was absolutely no comparison between her and Amanda. Absolutely none at all.
‘You’re right, Henry, of course the kids suffer. And if you’re seriously concerned about them then have a word with her social worker or her probation officer after, though you’ll not be telling them anything that they don’t already know, worst luck.’
‘I was just trying to find out what’s behind it, that’s all.
Pepper only just resisted the urge to shake her head. ‘How much previous has Amanda got? Just as an adult, let’s say.’
Armstrong opened the file and flicked through a few pages.
‘About 40, maybe a few more.’
‘Exactly. She’s a thief. And she nicks stuff because she wants to get hold of things that she doesn’t have to pay for. It’s the whole idea of the job, like.’
‘That’s not fair, boss. She’s just trying to take care of her family.’
‘Cobblers. Do you know how much she gets in benefits, every week? Have a guess.’
‘I don’t know. Honest, I don’t.’
‘Go on, how much?’
‘All right, a hundred quid.’
‘No way. I bet it’s £400 at least. Cash in hand that is, too.’
‘That can’t be right, boss. She’d be able to feed the kids on that, no trouble.’
‘Exactly, and that’s my point. Well, I’ll tell you what, Henry. You go back in there and you ask her how much it is. And then you get her charged, OK? We can carry on with this conversation later. Because I’ll tell you one thing for nowt. If you don’t get on with it PC Jackson will leave you holding the baby. Literally.’
DC Armstrong was a little flushed when he returned to the interview room, and he almost knocked PC Jackson’s empty mug off the table when he sat down. And then he asked the question, straight out.
‘What’s it to you?’
‘Come on, Amanda. It’s a simple question. How much do you get?’
‘I’m entitled, I am.’
‘I didn’t say you weren’t. I bet it’s £400 a week, isn’t it?’
‘Aye, about that’ said Amanda. ‘But it don’t go right far, not these days.’
‘Gotcha’ said Pepper, from the observation room. She did enjoy it when she was right and a subordinate was wrong. In fact, the only thing that she enjoyed more - at work at least - was when she was proved right, and a superior officer was shown to be wrong. And that happened all the time too, now that she came to think about it.
PC Jackson managed to book Amanda out at just before noon, and DC Armstrong went looking for Pepper Wilson. She wasn’t in the observation room, and she wasn’t at her desk on the open CID floor, nor in the DI’s office. A PC who was using one of the empty desks, which had previously belonged to a DC who’d taken voluntary redundancy a couple of month before, said that Pepper had been called in to see the Super. So he returned to his own work-station, and before he set to on his accumulated paperwork he had a look online to see how benefits were calculated. Surely no-one had more children just to avoid having to go to work?
Superintendent Mary Clark wasn’t yet comfortable in her uniform, and it showed. It just looked like rather convincing fancy dress on her, she thought. She was sitting stiffly at her meeting table when DS Wilson walked in, and Pepper told herself - not for the first time in her career - to keep an open mind. Just because the new Super had been recruited from outside the job didn’t necessarily mean that she’d be utterly shit at it, although Pepper had to make an effort not to call to mind the jokes about Mary Clark that had been going round the station for weeks. But then, what could the bosses expect? Because the Super’s round-robin introductory email had explained that she’d come from a senior role in Supply Chain Management at one of the major supermarkets. As a result she’d already gained the nickname BOGOF, but as she sat down Pepper thought that it could be worse. One of her predecessors in the area commander’s chair had been known simply as ‘the arse’.
‘I’ve been reading your file, Samantha’ she began. ‘You do like to be known as Samantha?’
‘Sam is fine, ma’am. But most people call me Pepper.’
‘Do they? Well, Pepper, I’ve been looking at your record, and I can’t help but notice the high number of complaints made against you by members of the public. The highest number in the Division, in fact.’
Here we go again, thought Pepper, and started to open her mouth. But the Super held up a well-manicured hand.
‘But I also notice that you have by far the highest arrest rate in the Division as well. Top of every single chart in fact, right across the board. I wonder if those two facts might be correlated, or connected, in some way?’
‘I think so, ma’am.’
‘Well, as a matter of fact so do I. I’ve been having a look at all of the key metrics around officer performance, and there does seem to be a clear correlation. There is, for example, an officer at this very station with not a single complaint against his name, which of course would be excellent if he also boasted an equally outstanding arrest record.’
Pepper smiled. She knew who the Super meant, and so she already knew what was coming next.
‘But, unfortunately, that officer has made fewer arrests over the past twelve months than any other front-line officer in the whole of the Constabulary. Now I know that I’ve not been here for five minutes, and I’m very aware that I’ve got a very great deal to learn, but I’d have said that arresting offenders is pretty much the core function of a Police officer.’
‘I agree entirely, ma’am.’
‘Can we drop the ma’am, please? Mary is fine, when we’re on our own.’
‘It is customary, ma’am.’
‘Is it? If we must then, I suppose. But it’s first name terms outside work, is it?’
‘Aye, of course.’
‘Good. But a word to the wise, Pepper. Try not to add too many more complaints to your tally. I know that none of any significance have gone against you, but it’s not doing you any favours. You’ve got a bit of a reputation, reading between the lines. And it is a thin line between straight-talker and pain-in-the-arse, isn’t it? And you do want to get on, I expect.’
‘I do, ma’am.’
‘And you’re currently acting DI, is that right?’
‘Yes. Bill Murray is away on long-term sick leave, I’m afraid. Stress, ma’am.’
‘What a shame.’
Pepper let the Super’s considerate comment hang in the air, even though she wanted to add that the old bastard was playing the system, and that his stress wasn’t preventing him from golfing three times a week, except when he was at his villa in Spain, of course. Because then it was five times a week.
‘Sickness levels here are a worry’ the Super continued, ‘but I see that you’ve barely had a day off during your whole period of service to date. And you only took three months off after your child was born.’
‘That’s right, ma’am.’
This time it was Mary Clark who paused, but Pepper had no intention of filling the silence, no matter how long it lasted.
‘And I also see that you had a period on attachment at HQ last year. Tell me about that.’
‘I spent six months instructing on the self-defence team, ma’am. We worked with everyone from the Specials and PCSOs right through to senior officers on refreshers.’
‘Really? I don’t want to be personal, Pepper, but you don’t look like the type. You’re so slim, I mean.’
‘That’s why I did it, ma’am. Good technique, combined with fitness and the right attitude trumps brute strength every time, believe me. The female officers needed to understand that. We can all look after ourselves, when we have to, like.’
‘I see. But back to the matter in hand. I’m a little concerned about the utilisation level in your team at present.’
‘Come again?’
‘I’m worried about how hard you’re working, Pepper.’
‘I do my bit, ma’am. That’s all.’
‘You do a good deal more than that, Pepper. Do you know how many hours per week you’ve worked, on average, over the last few months?’
‘A few more than I should, I’ll grant you. Forty-five I’d say, about that.’
‘You’re miles out, I’m afraid. You and a DI called Jane Francis, down in Kendal, are in joint first place, or should that be last place? You’re working far too many hours. And that tells me something, Pepper.’
‘I can’t work any faster, ma’am. You can put one of those time and motion people on me, if you like.’
‘Operational research? Christ, do we have those parasites too? No, I don’t think so. That’s the last bloody thing you need. In fact, I think I have a solution.’
‘Yes?’
‘Yes. You’re getting a new DC on your team. And he’s got a bit of experience, too. Take a bit of the weight off, if you follow me.’
‘Oh, really?’ Jane smiled, but didn’t get her hopes up. But then she knew most of the DCs on the Constabulary’s total strength, and she’d take a keen youngster like Henry Armstrong over any of the old-timers.
‘Don’t worry, he’s not from Cumbria. He’s from London, actually. We’re lucky to get him, by the looks. I’ll send you the file, and you can see what you make of him.’
‘Great’ said Pepper, and this time she almost meant it. ‘When does he start?’
‘Tomorrow. I know, it’s short notice, but it’s not down to me. A personnel cock-up, I’m afraid. They thought he was going to South Division, for some reason.’
‘Say no more, ma’am.’
‘It’s not just me, then? That’s a relief. I thought that they were just being obstructive because I’ve come from outside the force.’
‘It won’t be anything personal with personnel, ma’am. They’re like that with everyone.’
‘That’s a relief.’ Mary Clark smiled. ‘Not that I really give a shit what they think, to tell the truth.’
Pepper smiled back. Mary Clark was a year or two younger than her, if the rumours were to be believed, but she wouldn’t hold that against her.
‘Well, I mustn’t keep you, Pepper. But I will make a point of coming out with you on a job sometime soon.’
‘Of course, ma’am. But it won’t be very exciting, I can almost guarantee it.’
‘Don’t worry about that. And I won’t be a liability if things get physical.’
‘No, of course not.’
‘I mean it. My arse may have been polishing a chair for my whole career but I’m pretty good at judo. Been doing it since I was a girl.’
‘I’m sure it’ll come in handy, ma’am.’
‘By which you mean it won’t.’
Pepper smiled again. ‘Honestly? Most of our techniques are a bit more basic. There’s an old PC out west who has never even got his stick out, not in thirty years. All he does is wrestle the con to the ground, and then he just sits on them ’til help arrives. He swears by it. I think if we started doing judo throws and that it might just encourage some of the shit-heads, to tell the truth. Botchergate on a Saturday night isn’t always a pretty sight, but the punters are usually so pissed that you only really need to know a bit of origami to nick most of them.’