‘His men did. We might get them to give evidence against him down the line.’
‘They’ll have family in Albania and they know what’ll happen if they cross him.’
‘Let’s look on the bright side, shall we? His men will be jailed so Kreshnik will have to shut down the operation.’
‘And start up a new one.’ Shepherd grimaced. ‘It’s always this way, isn’t it? The little fish get banged up while the sharks live to fight another day. And the really small fish, like Rudi Pernaska, kill themselves in police custody.’
‘Spider…’
‘I know, I know. I look at the glass and see it’s half empty while others see it’s half full. But the thing is, the glass is half empty. There’s no getting away from it. And the world is a shitty place full of shitty people. And there’s no such thing as fair any more. The meek will never inherit the world, they’ll just get shafted until the end of time.’
Hargrove raised eyebrows. ‘Rough day?’
Shepherd smiled thinly. ‘Rough year,’ he said.
‘I’m not saying that Kreshnik won’t get his comeuppance eventually, but this time we don’t have enough evidence. Europol have him in their sights, though.’
‘I won’t be holding my breath,’ said Shepherd. ‘Their resources are as stretched as ours. That’s always the problem, isn’t it? It costs time and money to nail the big guys, and unless it’s a one hundred per cent sure thing the accountants say it’s not worth committing the resources.’
‘Don’t be too sure,’ said Hargrove. ‘Kreshnik’s involved with drugs and if any are ending up in the States the Americans will be on the case and money will be no object.’
‘Great. So the plan now is for the Americans to bail us out.’ Shepherd drained his glass. ‘Another?’ he said. Hargrove gestured at his barely touched pint. ‘Well, I need one,’ said Shepherd. He waved at the barman and pointed at his empty glass.
‘What’s wrong, Spider?’
Shepherd sighed. ‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘Nothing much.’
‘The Uddin brothers? Is that it?’
Shepherd smiled. The superintendent could always tell what was on his mind. That was what made him such a good boss. ‘They’re nice guys and they’re going to go down. They’ll be taken away from their families and banged up with drug-dealers, burglars and child-molesters for bringing in paper.’
‘Millions of counterfeit euros, actually,’ said Hargrove.
‘Paper,’ repeated Shepherd. ‘They haven’t hurt or killed anyone – it’s as close to a victimless crime as you can get. Yet they go to prison, while lowlifes like Kreshnik live in million-pound apartments in Paris.’
‘So, life’s unfair,’ said Hargrove. ‘We know that. But it doesn’t mean we don’t put away people who break the law.’
Shepherd’s second whiskey and ice arrived and he paid for it, telling the barman to keep the change. ‘Sometimes it looks like we don’t aim high enough.’
‘Well, maybe that’ll change with SOCA,’ said Hargrove. ‘I get the feeling that Charlotte Button will choose her own targets. I’ve always been at the beck and call of the various forces who use the unit, but she’s got more autonomy so you might get your wish.’
‘Cheers to that,’ said Shepherd, raising his glass. The superintendent clinked his against Shepherd’s and they drank.
‘Which brings me to why I’m here,’ said Hargrove. ‘As of today, I’m in my new post. Well, as of yesterday, actually.’
The news took Shepherd by surprise, even though he had known the move was imminent. ‘Congratulations,’ he said. He heard the bitterness in his voice and forced himself to smile. ‘Seriously, congratulations,’ he said. ‘I’ll miss you.’
Hargrove nodded. ‘I’ll miss you, too. The new job’s going to be a hell of a lot less exciting than working with you guys.’
‘Until the shit hits the fan,’ said Shepherd.
‘Well, if we do our job right, the shit won’t ever get near the fan.’
‘Do you believe that?’
‘Who knows? Anthrax from a plane, a dirty bomb in a con tainer on a freighter, a barge of explosives sailing up the Thames to the Houses of Parliament. We can make all the contingency plans we want, but it’s like the IRA said when they almost blew up Margaret Thatcher in Brighton…’
‘The government was lucky, but they have to be lucky all the time,’ said Shepherd. ‘The bad guys only have to be lucky once.’
‘Exactly. And al-Qaeda are way more dangerous than the IRA ever was. The IRA would never have brought down a plane or thought about biological weapons. They had limits. Lines they wouldn’t cross. We had some idea of how they thought, how they operated, but al-Qaeda have thrown away the rule book.’ He sipped his lager. ‘Anyway, hopefully we’ll be lucky.’
‘ Inshallah,’ said Shepherd.
Hargrove raised an eyebrow.
‘God willing,’ explained Shepherd.
‘ Inshallah,’ said Hargrove. He rapped the bar with his knuckles. ‘Touch wood.’
‘So, what do I do now?’ asked Shepherd. ‘I’m working for SOCA as of today?’
‘You’re in a transition phase,’ said Hargrove. ‘As always, there’s paperwork and human-resources stuff to work through. But Charlotte Button will phone you later today to finalise the transfer.’
‘And what about the Uddin brothers?’
‘She’ll take over that operation. Everyone’s keen that we find out who their man is in the Passport Agency.’ He smiled. ‘I’m going to have to stop saying “we”, aren’t I?’
‘I’m going to see them this afternoon at five to collect the money. Will you be handling that or Button?’
Shepherd’s mobile rang. He pulled it out of his jacket pocket and grinned. ‘Speak of the devil,’ he said.
Shepherd popped a piece of gum into his mouth and chewed slowly. He didn’t like turning up to meet his new boss with whiskey on his breath, but Button had said she wanted to see him that afternoon and it had been an order rather than a request. He took a black cab and had it drop him a quarter of a mile from the address she’d given him: a shopping street in Marylebone. He doubted she would pull her tailing trick again, but he didn’t want to take the risk. He spent ten minutes making sure he wasn’t being tailed, then headed for the office where they were to meet. The entrance was between two shops – a high-class butcher and a florist. There were three brass nameplates by the door, and an entryphone with three buttons. The three firms were a solicitor’s, a travel agency and an accountant’s. He pressed the button for the accountant and Charlotte Button’s voice crackled on the intercom. ‘Second floor,’ she said.
The door buzzed and Shepherd went in. Button was waiting for him on the second floor in an office lined with filing cabinets and volumes on tax law. There were four desks, and a door that led to another office.
‘This is very cloak-and-dagger,’ said Shepherd, as Button closed the door.
‘I understand Sam Hargrove preferred to meet in pubs or at rugby matches,’ said Button. ‘Hardly my style.’
‘There’s always the Ritz,’ said Shepherd.
‘I can’t start pulling out investigation files in full view of the ladies-who-lunch. We have a number of offices like this so I plan to make full use of them.’
She took him through to the interior office, which contained a big oak desk and a high-backed executive chair, with two smaller ones facing it. A large whiteboard bore several dozen photographs, head and shoulders shots.
Button sat down in the big chair and motioned him to a seat. ‘Congratulations on the money run. I gather Europol are happy with the way things went.’
‘They’re not busting the Albanian guy who’s running the show,’ said Shepherd, ‘but, yeah, it went well.’
‘We’re keen to follow up the Passport Agency angle,’ said Button. ‘We’re not going to pull the Uddin brothers in until we’ve nailed their contact.’
‘Okay,’ said Shepherd. ‘I’m going in to their office today at five to get my money.’
‘I’d like you to wear a wire. You’ve established enough trust with them, haven’t you?’
‘They’ve not given me a second glance at the last couple of meetings.’
‘She slid an envelope across the desk. ‘Give them these details, and we’ll be watching to see who enters them into the system.’