She frowned. ‘And you are?’
‘His solicitor,’ said Hargrove, the lie coming as naturally as his smile.
‘Visiting hours are between five and seven,’ she said curtly.
Hargrove continued to smile, but his eyes hardened. ‘My client has been arrested on a serious charge, and he has a right to legal representation. Any interference with it would result in a claim for damages laid against this hospital. I’m sure your NHS trust’s administrator wouldn’t want that, now, would he?’
‘There’s a policeman with him,’ said the nurse.
‘Which is why he needs my counsel,’ said Hargrove. He made a show of looking at his watch. ‘I don’t have all day, Miss…’ He peered at the nurse’s name-tag. ‘Miss Longworth. I know it’s a frightful cliche, but my time really is money.’
The nurse pointed down the corridor. ‘It’s the third room on the left.’
‘Thank you,’ said Hargrove, and headed along the corridor. He opened the door without knocking. A young uniformed policeman was leaning against a large cast-iron radiator. As the door opened he jolted upright and straightened, hands behind his back. ‘You’re not supposed to be in here,’ he said.
Hargrove looked round the room. There was only one bed. The occupant’s eyes were closed, his hands at his sides. He was wearing a pale blue surgical gown. There was monitoring equipment on the table next to the bed but it wasn’t switched on. A thin chain ran from the man’s ankle to the metal rail at the foot. ‘I’m Mr Corke’s solicitor,’ said Hargrove. ‘Can you explain to me why he’s chained to the bed?’
‘My chief inspector’s orders, sir,’ said the constable.
‘My client has just been dragged out of the North Sea,’ said Hargrove. ‘He almost drowned.’
‘I’m told he has to be restrained,’ said the constable.
‘It’s an infringement of his human rights,’ said Hargrove. ‘My understanding is that Mr Corke hasn’t been charged.’
‘I’m just doing as I was told, sir,’ said the constable.
‘I need a word with my client,’ said Hargrove. ‘In private.’
‘I’m supposed to stay with him,’ said the constable.
‘How long have you been in the job, son?’
‘A year,’ said the constable, defensively.
‘That’s long enough to know that lawyer-client conversations are confidential,’ said Hargrove. ‘He’s not going anywhere with that chain on his leg. You can wait on the other side of the door. Or you can do the smart thing and take the opportunity to have a quick smoke or a coffee outside. Up to you.’
The constable held Hargrove’s eye for several seconds, then left the room.
Hargrove put down his briefcase and stared at the man on the bed. ‘Shepherd, do you always have to be so bloody heroic?’ he asked. ‘You almost gave me a heart-attack, throwing yourself into the sea. You’re an undercover cop, not a bloody lifeguard.’
Shepherd opened his eyes. ‘She was a kid,’ he said.
Hargrove shook his head. ‘I suppose I’m going to have to put you in for another commendation,’ he said.
‘Is she okay?’
‘She’s in ICU but she’ll be fine.’ Hargrove sat down on the metal chair and straightened the creases in his trousers. ‘If the helicopter hadn’t spotted you…’
‘I couldn’t let her die.’
‘Pepper was going to throw them all into the sea. What was your plan? Save everybody?’
‘She was a kid,’ said Shepherd again.
‘And what if the helicopter hadn’t been there, Spider? What if I’d had to go and tell Liam his father wasn’t coming home?’
‘It was instinctive.’
‘It was foolhardy,’ said Hargrove. ‘Brave, but foolhardy.’
‘All’s well that ends well,’ said Shepherd. He sat up and pointed at the chain. ‘Can you take that off me so I can get out of here?’
‘We need to talk first,’ said Hargrove.
‘That sounds ominous.’
Hargrove examined the room. ‘Not bad, considering it’s NHS,’ he said. ‘Floor even looks as if it’s been cleaned some time this century.’
‘Do we know what went wrong?’ asked Shepherd. ‘I’m assuming you didn’t send the navy to intercept us.’
‘We were waiting to pick you up on Holy Island as planned. The local drugs squad had an informant in the French port. He thought the trawler was leaving with drugs and called his handler in Europol. By then it was in international waters but Europol were on the ball for once. They called Custom House and the night man took a decision. There was a Royal Navy frigate in the area, and Bob’s your uncle.’
‘What a cock-up.’
‘Just one of those things,’ said Hargrove. ‘There was no way we could have tipped off everyone in advance.’
‘What about Pepper?’
‘He’s under arrest for trafficking and attempted murder. The illegals are lining up to give evidence. If nothing else, it means they’re guaranteed to stay in the country until the trial.’
‘Mosley was going to help toss them overboard, but Pepper didn’t give him much choice.’
‘He’s co-operating. Pepper pulling a gun on him changed his viewpoint and he’s giving us all the info we need on the French end. Job well done, Spider. Not the way we planned it, but we’ve smashed their operation.’
Shepherd jiggled his leg, rattling the chain. ‘So, I’m out of here, right?’
‘Let me run something by you first,’ said Hargrove. ‘The parents of the girl you rescued were from Kosovo. They had a couple of suitcases with them. One contained three large cooking-oil cans filled with a hell of a lot of cash. Just under a million euros in five-hundred euro notes.’
‘They could have gone first class for that,’ said Shepherd, bought passports, new identities, the works.’
‘The money’s counterfeit, which is why we think they’re couriers. They don’t know that we’ve found it.’
‘But why run counterfeit euros from Europe into the UK? The UK’s about the only country left that doesn’t use the euro.’
‘Good question,’ said the superintendent.
‘You want me to talk to them – me being the hero and all?’
Hargrove flashed him a tight smile. ‘They’ve been asking for you. They want to thank you. It’d be an opening.’
‘Makes sense,’ said Shepherd.
‘We need to know where the notes were made, and where they were going.’
‘And I stay in character?’
‘Let’s see how it works,’ said Hargrove. ‘We’ll put you in the police station with them and give you a chance for a chat. If it doesn’t work, we’ll get Immigration to sweat them.’
‘How good are the notes?’ asked Shepherd.
‘They’re not good,’ said Hargrove. ‘They’re perfect, the real McCoy. Watermark, ink, paper, all genuine. The only way to tell they’re not real currency is by the numbers, which are sequential but haven’t been issued by the European Bank.’
‘Which means what?’
Hargrove shrugged. ‘The only people with access to that sort of printing equipment are governments. North Korea, maybe. They did the US superbills a few years back. But that’s hypothetical. Which is why I need you to talk to the girl’s parents.’
‘Okay. Where and when?’
Hargrove took a set of handcuffs from his pocket. ‘We’ll get them in here, just to start the ball rolling. Then we’ll run them down to Newcastle nick and process them. We’ll put you in a cell with the father and you can take it from there.’
Shepherd shook his left leg and the chain rattled. ‘This is a pain,’ he said.
‘It’s got to look like you’re one of the bad guys,’ said the superintendent.
‘Some way to treat a hero,’ Shepherd said ruefully. ‘I told the woodentop outside that I needed to use the loo and they offered to give me a bottle to piss in. They haven’t given me any food either.’
‘I’ll get it sorted,’ promised Hargrove.
‘I wouldn’t mind a phone, too, so that I can call Liam.’
‘Tomorrow. Soon as you’re in the van to the station.’ The superintendent stood up. ‘I’m serious about the commendation.’