Acland took the water with a muttered ‘Thank you’ and drank it at one swallow, before bending forward to place the glass on the floor then pressing his left hand to his eyepatch. ‘Maybe you should ring Dr Campbell and ask her to explain synchronicity to you.’
‘I don’t follow.’
‘If you look for meaning in random events, you’ll probably find it.’
*
Jackson’s call was put through to DC Khan. As he listened to what she had to say, he was reading an email on his monitor.
‘Re. urgent request for fingerprint identification on body taken from river this a.m. Match found with Paul Hadley, 68. Awaiting trial on indecent assault charges against a minor. Registered address 23 Albion Street, Peckham SE15. No known family. Photograph attached.
He clicked on the attachment and stared at the mug shot of Paul Hadley.
‘I hear what you say, Dr Jackson, and I understand your frustrations, but first I’d appreciate confirmation of a photograph I have on my computer. I think it has a bearing on what you’ve found in your car. Do you have a 3G mobile? I’d like you to confirm whether the man in the photograph is the one you know as Chalky.’
*
‘Why should I accept that any of this is random?’ asked Jones. ‘You drank in the same pub as Harry Peel . . . you were in possession of Kevin Atkins’s mobile . . . and you spoke to Walter Tutting a couple of hours before he was attacked. I’m looking for connections, not meanings.’ ‘It amounts to the same thing.’ ‘Not in my book it doesn’t. Anyone can invent meaning after the event – it depends how irrational you’re prepared to be – my job is about understanding causes.’ ‘I didn’t know you’d be here tonight,’ Acland pointed out, ‘so this interview is entirely random . . . and all in your favour. It wouldn’t be happening if I’d let Jackson take me back to the Bell.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
‘I needed to think about things.’
The irony wasn’t lost on Jones and he gave a low laugh. Leaning forward on their respective seats – the superintendent on the bed and the lieutenant on the chair – their heads were only inches apart, and they seemed in thrall to a mutual respect rather than a mutual enmity. ‘So you decided to steer Dr Jackson’s car towards the Crown.’
Acland shrugged. ‘Even if I did, I still didn’t know you were going to be here. Chance works in different ways for different people, so you and I will never take the same meaning from anything.’
‘We might if we agree that the end result is satisfactory.’
Acland raised his head slightly. ‘And if we don’t?’
‘The only way that could happen is if you’re the person we’re looking for,’ the superintendent said reasonably. ‘Or you’re shielding someone.’
A tiny smile lit Acland’s eye. ‘Or I don’t give a shit. We’re just rats in a cage . . . you, the inspector and me . . . acting out our alpha, beta and omega roles. Maybe I’m bored with the whole stupid game.’
‘You’ve got quite a thing about rats.’
‘Only the caged ones.’
‘So who’s the omega? You? On what basis? That you’re passive in every situation . . . or that you allow alphas to dominate you?’
‘You and the inspector are doing a pretty good job at the moment.’
Jones gave a grunt of genuine amusement. ‘We’re doing a lousy job, Charles. An omega would have run for cover as soon as we entered the room. We see that type all the time. They hide behind solicitors, lie their heads off and duck into the nearest bolt hole the minute we turn our backs.’
‘Maybe I’m just keeping my head down while you throw your weight around. That’s pretty standard omega behaviour.’
‘Is that how you dealt with Ms Morley?’
Acland held his gaze. ‘Why are you so interested in Jen?’
‘I’m far more interested in you, Charles. You react violently in certain situations and I want to know why.’
‘I’m angry about what happened to me and my men.’
‘Rightly so . . . but that’s not what makes you fire off when you’re touched. You’d be getting into fights all the time if resentment was your driving force.’
‘Except you’ve already cleared me of the attack on Mr Tutting, and I can prove I was back on my base by the early evening on both the dates you mentioned.’
Jones stared at him, wondering why he’d waited so long to offer a defence. Was everything a test of nerve with Acland, a need to see how much pressure he could absorb before he issued a challenge of his own? ‘We’ll certainly check on that,’ he said. ‘Presumably your regiment keeps records—’ He broke off as his mobile started ringing. ‘Excuse me.’ He straightened and took the phone from his pocket.
The caller was DC Khan but, after giving a clear indication that he wasn’t able to speak freely, Jones let the constable do most of the talking. Bar a couple of requests to clarify information, the superintendent’s longest speech came at the end. ‘Agreed. Send a couple of uniforms here. The inspector and I will wait. Just make sure nothing’s moved until we get there. We’ll be with the SOCO team in thirty minutes max.’
He tucked the mobile away and turned his concentration back on Acland, staring at him intently for several seconds. ‘What’s Dr Jackson ever done to you, Charles?’
‘Nothing. I like her . . . rather a lot as a matter of fact. Has she found the bag?’ He gave a hint of a smile at Jones’s expression. ‘I could have got rid of it, you know. I carried it around for twenty-four hours before I put it behind Jackson’s seat. Hasn’t she worked that out yet?’
‘Not by the sound of it. According to DC Khan, she’s furious about having to cancel her patient list again. Why did you leave her to find it? Why didn’t you hand it to me when I came to the car?’
‘I wasn’t ready.’
Jones could just about accept that. ‘You could have told Dr Jackson at least.’
Acland focused his attention on the carpet in front of him. ‘I was trying to. I just hadn’t got round to it. I thought she’d be less spooked if she found it herself. One of things in the bag belongs to me.’
‘So you know what’s in it?’
‘Yes.’
Jones rose to his feet. ‘Then I won’t be asking you any more questions tonight.’ He stared down at Acland’s bent head. ‘Are you well enough to spend the night in a cell? The alternative is to sit on a chair in a waiting room until I’m ready for you.’
‘A cell will be fine.’
‘You won’t be under arrest, but I will be placing you in the charge of two uniformed officers. If for any reason you feel you’re not fit enough to travel in the back of a police car—’
Acland straightened. ‘I’m OK, sir. You don’t need to worry about me.’
Jones gave a sigh of pure frustration. ‘You’re a flaming bloody nuisance, Charles. I don’t know whether to admire you for your guts or despise you for your stupidity. What am I supposed to believe here? That you’re the victim of another unfortunate coincidence?’
Acland’s mouth twisted into an approximation of a smile. ‘It sure as hell looks that way,’ he said.
Twenty-six
JACKSON WAS LEANING AGAINST a pillar box, playing chess on her mobile, when Jones and Beale drew up behind her car. She acknowledged them with a nod, but showed no impatience when they spent fifteen minutes with the three-man SOCO team who were working on the contents of the back seat. Whatever irritation she’d felt earlier seemed to have evaporated.
‘I’m sorry about this, Dr Jackson,’ said the superintendent, finally walking over to speak to her. ‘I realize we’re making your life difficult.’
‘Not your fault,’ she said, closing out the game. ‘Not mine either . . . but I wouldn’t blame you if you thought otherwise. I seem to be making a habit of bringing hot telephones to your attention.’
‘Courtesy of Lieutenant Acland.’