Impeding Justice (5 page)

Eventually the penny dropped. He got out of his car and
banged the door shut. He threw himself into the seat beside her
like a rebellious teenager.
Jumped up little prick.

‘
Enough foreplay, let’s have
it, Warner. What have you got me here to tell me that couldn’t be
discussed over the ’phone?’

‘
We’ve had Trelgo oil and
Sergei Abromovski under observation for a while.’

‘
Why?’

‘
MI6 don’t need to give a
reason.’

‘
Bollocks. Stop wasting my
time, either you tell me now or I’ll take things
higher.’

‘
Ah, spoken like a woman who
always gets her own way, well, not this time,
Inspector.’

‘
We’ll see about that, what
is the point of our meeting? You may as well leave, I’ve more fish
to fry than to sit here bandying stupid words with you!’

‘
Okay, you win! Let’s just
say he’s been a naughty boy.’

‘
Not good
enough…’

‘
Christ, I’d hate to come up
against you down a fucking dark alley.’

‘
Don’t play games. I’m not
in the mood. You probably know why. Just give me the
details.’

‘
He surfaced at the end of
2004, started sniffing around a premiership football team and a
couple of our overseas agents asked us to keep an eye on him. He
has his fingers in many pies. Drugs, guns, people, you name it. His
name appears to crop up all the time.’

‘
What do you mean,
people?’

‘
Trafficking, but he’s
pretty shrewd, never leaves any kind of trail. Maybe he has friends
in high places we haven’t found out about yet. Anyway, roughly six
to eight months ago he started meeting up with this guy, can’t give
you a name I’m afraid, he’s a bit of a mystery. We’ve tried several
times to trail him, but he loses his tail every time. He’s more
slippery than a bar of lifebuoy. I’ve got a photo of him if it will
help.’

He handed her a glossy ten by eight.

‘
Any ideas?’

‘
Can’t be sure, but it could
be the Unicorn… Can I keep this copy? The guy has been on my radar
for the past eight years. I’m not a hundred per cent certain
though.’

‘
Keep it. Now, it’s your
turn to spill the beans. Why are you after ‘Mr. Nice Guy’, Sergei
Abromovski?’

‘
You told me you’re aware of
our deadline, how?’

‘
Don’t you trust me,
Inspector?’

‘
It’s not that, it’s
just…’

‘
I know. You have a mole in
your team.’

‘
I think so, but
how…’

‘
Lucky guess...’

‘
And I’m supposed to believe
that?’

‘
Well, let’s analyse it: DS
Pete Childs, your partner, is dead. This Unicorn guy has escaped
your clutches, yet again. And, escaped in the nick of time, despite
him being cornered, correct?’

Lorne nodded. With everything he’d said since
she’d first spoken to him it’s obvious these guys know all there is
to know about her and probably about everyone on the Met, too.

‘
The whole scenario stinks
of insider information.’ Warner continued, ‘Take it from someone
who knows, I’m a professional spy after all, any ideas on the
mole’s identity?’

‘
Negative. Everything is
pure conjecture at this point and with this damn deadline hanging
over us…finding the mole is low down on our list of
priorities.’

‘
It should be your first!
Sod the deadline. The mole must be flushed out.’

‘
But…’

‘
Look, think logically about
this, Inspector. Do you want The Unicorn to remain one step ahead
of you?’

‘
Of course not…’

‘
Right, how many officers do
you have on your team?’

‘
Um… twenty.’ His theory had blown her concentration
-
Find the mole
first!

‘
And how many can you
honestly say you trust?’

That’s the second time that question had
cropped up today and she still didn’t have the foggiest idea.

‘
I take it your silence
doesn’t give a vote of confidence to any of them? A good starting
point, otherwise, the very one you are sure it isn’t will turn out
to be the one it is and you will have missed the clues pointing to
them.’

Her stomach churned. Christ, if she couldn’t
trust her colleagues, then who in this Goddamn twisted world could
she trust?

He carried on
in the same vein, asking her questions, any new recruits, anyone
seem more flush than usual, anyone not acting how they normally
did, or found in places they shouldn’t be and so on and so on. He
jotted names down into lists as she spoke. She began to feel
uncomfortable.

‘
What’s this all about, why
so much interest?’

‘
I’m going to do some
digging for you.’

‘
Why?’

‘
Because I’m a nice kind of
guy and I’m at a loose end at the moment. Whilst you have a
deadline to meet.’

An MI6 agent at a loose end, that’d be the
day! Is it wise to trust him? But then, what other option did she
have?

‘
That’s nice of
you…’

"I sense a, ‘but’…

They stared long and hard into each other’s
eyes. Was it feasible to trust one another, given that they’d only
just met?

She decided trusting him would be her best
option at the moment, so she outlined the plan she and the DCI had
regarding the get together that evening.

He nodded his agreement, ‘Then what?’

‘
We start laying traps I
guess. Our plan is still in its infancy, we haven’t had time to
draw up anything concrete as yet.’

‘
This is what I suggest you
do…’

He went into what he planned, besides his
digging into all their backgrounds and current finances, he wanted
to know about anyone who didn’t show that night, though he doubted
there would be any. His take was that they were dealing with
intelligent coppers and if Pete was as popular as she said, then
despite any other motive they may have, they wouldn’t want to risk
the animosity of their colleagues by disrespecting his send
off.

‘
When I have something, I’ll
get back to you and then you and the DCI can start laying traps and
let’s see if the one it’s nailed down to takes the cheese! Sound
good?’

‘
It’s good, but it goes
without saying I’ll need to run it past Chief Inspector Roberts.
Now tell me, what’s in it for you? Why are you so eager to lend a
hand on this?’

His response of wanting a bit of action and
being at a loose end didn’t convince her. She had a gut feeling
there were other motives, but she could do with the help on
this.

They swapped mobile numbers before going
their separate ways.

Lorne went straight to DCI Roberts and filled
him in with the details of her meeting.

‘
You think you can trust
this guy, Lorne?’ Roberts asked her.

‘
About as much as I trust my
own team.’

‘
That much, huh?’

Chapter Eight.

The décor of the lounge bar at the White Swan
looked as tired as ever.

Lorne checked her watch. Just on six
o'clock.

John spotted her and the DCI walk in and
rushed over, offering to buy them a drink.

Her cynical side prodded her. Could he be the
one? His offer could indicate his guilt. Suck up to his seniors.
That way they’d never think of him as a mole.

For Christ sake! Was she that fucked up by
all this, paranoia had set in?

The Chief thanked John, but declined his
generosity, then walked over to the bar and gave the barmaid fifty
quid. Everyone cheered. Someone shouted: To Pete, God rest his
soul’. They all raised their glasses. The silence that followed
sounded louder than the cheer.

Lorne surveyed the room. Every officer either
dabbed at their eyes or sat staring, allowing the tears to drip.
Some of her pain eased to see they shared her loss and it felt good
to know Pete had been so highly thought of.

The DCI reminded them all they were due back
on duty in thirty minutes. He grabbed Lorne by the elbow and guided
her to a quiet corner ignoring the disgruntled groans.

They sat alongside the large Inglenook
fireplace, a new addition to the bar and one that didn’t go well
with its surroundings. The heat from it blushed Lorne’s cheeks.

The DCI faced her with his back to the group.
She could see them all over his shoulder.

‘
Right, Lorne, anyone
missing?’

‘
Simon Teller isn’t here,
nor is Flash Harry…

‘
Who?’

‘
Alan Jackson, he’s called
that because of his MR6 sports car. He’s rumoured to like his women
just as fast, if not faster than his cars. Everyone else seems to
be here… Hang on. Laura Crane, she's not here. I overheard a
conversation the other day concerning her. Now what the hell was it
about?’

She rubbed her temple trawling through her
fuzzy mind.

The Chief jumped when she snapped her thumb
and middle finger, ‘That’s right, she was talking to one of the
men. It appears her life is one long stream of work and caring for
her bedridden mother. I meant to have her in, point her towards the
counselling service and benevolent lot to see if there is anything
they can help her with, but all this blew up. I guess we can rule
her out.’

‘
Go and ring Warner, and give him all
three
names.’

‘
Not Laura Crane’s
surely…’

‘
All three,
Lorne…’

Lorne pushed open the door to the ladies. She
held a hope in her that Laura might be in there, but it proved not
to be so.

Mobile in hand she stepped into the last
cubical, dropped the loo seat, perched her pert bum on it and
placed the call.

Warner answered after the first ring. She
gave him the names and a brief outline on each. His interest piqued
at her telling of Alan and his playboy ways.

‘
On a Copper’s salary,
sounds a bit suspicious don’t you think? You never mentioned this
earlier.’

‘
You asked about anyone who
has recently become flush, Alan’s been like it for
yonks.’

He showed the same interest in Laura, coming
out with the cliché: “The quiet ones are the worst.”

‘
You’ll be working all
night, I take it?’ he asked.

‘
Yes. Get back to me the
minute you think you have something.’

She had spoken this last into a dead phone.
‘Charming. Goodbye to you, too’

Why did men always have to be so damn
rude?

Chapter Nine
.

Lorne and the DCI arrived back at the station
before the rest of the team.

‘
Shall we have a quick
search around the desks?’ She’d spoken to the DCI’s back as he
headed towards his office.

‘
No. We’re not getting into
the human rights, bloody palaver!’

‘
Well, that leaves waiting
to see if Warner gets back to us. In the meantime I’d better ring
home, I’m expected back tonight.’

‘
Ditto.’ The DCI said as he
closed the door of the outer sanctum of his office.

She knew the call would piss Tom off and
place yet more stress on their fragile marriage. Her recent
workload had stretched Tom’s patience to its limits.

She thought of Jacques Arnaud and wondered if
she would still be with Tom if it wasn’t for their daughter
Charlie. She didn’t know, but didn’t like the thought either of her
call making things a zillion times worse.

‘
Hi, Sweetheart, it’s
me.’

‘
What’s up now? You only use
endearments when you’re about to tell me something bad.’

‘
I’m sorry, Tom, I
won’t…’

‘
You’re not ringing to say
you’re not coming home?’

The sound of saucepan lids lifting and
banging back down came down the receiver. She imagined he’d have
the phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, while he continued
to cook a meal for them. Guilt stopped her from answering him. The
silence stretched the gulf between them until the crash of pots
landing in the sink broke it. Lorne stiffened, shocked at Tom’s
reaction.

‘
Please don’t be like that,
Tom. Something big has come up, I can’t go into details over the
phone, but the whole team has to work through the
night.’

‘
Ever heard of delegation,
Lorne?’

The retort had been what she had come to
expect from him lately.

‘
Even the DCI is working
through the night on this one…’

‘
Ah, how bloody cosy for
you..,’

Why in God's name had she mentioned Sean
Roberts? Jesus! That was all she needed, the past dredged up again.
Why did every argument or disagreement always come back to
this?

She and Sean had enrolled in the force
together and after completing their training they had become
partners in every sense of the word. Two years into the
relationship, Tom had come on the scene.

A mechanic in his father’s garage he’d come
to her rescue when her old banger had given up the will to live.
Within an hour, Tom had fixed the fault and arranged a dinner date
with her for that evening.