‘Childproof locks,’ Meadows explained as Swannell sat in the front passenger seat. ‘Been shopping, darling?’
The girl glanced at the shopping bag. ‘It’s all out of date. You can check.’
‘We will,’ Meadows replied. ‘Nice bit of meat you have there. . leg of lamb. . very nice.’ He turned and sifted through the contents: steak, bacon, milk, cheese. .
‘It’s all out of date, so why lift me? The boys in the supermarket just help us out, saves us from having to poke around the skip. .’
‘You saw a geezer getting tanked a few nights ago.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Well, we want to talk to you about that.’
‘Oh.’ The girl relaxed. ‘I already told them everything.’
‘Possibly, we need to go over a few details,’ Swannell explained.
Meadows started the car.
‘Where we going?’
‘Kilburn nick,’ Meadows replied.
‘It’s more comfortable there.’ Ainsclough reached over and picked up an item of food from the shopping bag, and read the sell-by date. ‘Ah. . you have a time machine, I see.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning this packet of lovely Danish bacon, smoked back, won’t reach its sell-by date until the day after tomorrow. Meaning you’re either forty-eight hours ahead of the rest of the world or you have just received a bag load of stolen gear.’
‘So, my old copper’s mind was right.’ Meadows pulled into the traffic lane. ‘Neat, this will help my conviction rate; it’s been a bit low of late.’
‘Quite a nice little earner you have here.’ Ainsclough continued to examine the contents of the bag.
‘I don’t get to keep it all.’ The girl sighed. ‘I just have to keep it for the evening. I’ll likely get to keep the bacon, the milk and the bread but that’s all. Just to keep me going. Most times I dip and dive the skips.’
‘Who takes the rest?’
‘Not saying.’
‘It’s the old song that’s playing. You know, that music echoing in your ears; the tune that you’ve heard somewhere before.’
‘I don’t hear no music.’ She glanced angrily out of the window.
‘Course you do, darling,’ Meadows replied. ‘It’s that old singalong favourite, “You can work for yourself or you can work against yourself” — that song. Have you got anything hanging over you?’
‘Three months suspended for two years — got that about six months ago. . shoplifting. I’ve been inside. I don’t like it.’
‘Well, you’re going back for another three months, as well as anything you get for receiving stolen goods.’
The girl leant forwards, covering her face with her hands.
‘That’s if we charge you,’ Swannell said. ‘We have the discretion to charge you or not.’
‘Really!’ The girl looked up. She was frail and finely made.
‘Yes, really; it all depends on how much you help us,’ Meadows replied. ‘There’s two investigations now. I’m a local copper, Kilburn is my manor. I want information from you about the scam going down at the supermarket. I don’t need to give your name, you just give me the names of the geezers involved and let me know when the supermarket staff are going to be walking down the street with valid. . food that isn’t past its sell-by date. Get to feel their collars when they’re off the premises and they’re in the bucket.’
‘Yeah?’ The girl became excited.
‘Yeah,’ Meadows replied, ‘and these gentlemen are from New Scotland Yard. They want to know about the assault you witnessed the other night.’
‘We want details,’ Swannell growled. ‘Hold anything back about either investigation and you’re going inside.’
‘So do some thinking between now and Kilburn nick,’ Ainsclough added. ‘You know, nice crystal-clear thinking.’
Harry Vicary stood and smiled as Garrick Forbes entered his office. The two men shook hands warmly.
‘A-Ten never gets this kind of greeting.’ Forbes returned the smile. ‘So refreshing.’
‘Yes, but you and I go back. I did wonder if it might be you when they told me that A-Ten was here. Do take a pew. Coffee? Tea?’
‘Tea for me, please.’ Garrick Forbes, large and occasionally jovial, but always serious-minded when he needed to be, sat in one of the vacant chairs in front of Vicary’s desk. ‘Never was much of a coffee wallah. . and speaking of liquid refreshment, we never did have that beer we promised ourselves. It’s not often you look down the barrel of a gun, even as a copper.’
‘It isn’t, is it?’ Vicary turned to the table in the corner of his office, on which stood a kettle and a bag of tea bags, powdered milk and an assortment of half-pint mugs. He checked that the kettle had sufficient water and then switched it on. ‘Have you been back there?’
‘Twice. . last autumn.’
‘Me too, also twice. I’ll go again, not now though — ’ he pointed to the window — ‘hardly the weather for it, but I understand that what we are doing is called “trauma bonding”.’
‘Really?’
‘If you have been traumatized at a specific location you are bonded to that location, and by visiting it, you begin to aid the process of adjustment. So, the people who escaped the King’s Cross fire all those years ago still visit the underground railway station. . they are drawn to it, but with decreasing frequency as the adjustment progresses, and in the States, folk who escaped the Twin Towers in 2001 visit Ground Zero, but similarly with decreasing frequency as the years pass.’
‘Trauma bonding.’ Forbes pursed his lips. ‘I’ll remember that.’
‘We should visit together, then have that beer — there’s a couple of good interesting pubs in and around Northaw village.’
‘Yes, we’ll do that, it would be cathartic.’ He took the mug from Vicary’s hand and mumbled his thanks. ‘Doing some heavy reading, I see.’ He indicated the files on Vicary’s desk.
‘Yes. . yes. . and in more ways than one.’ Vicary slid behind his desk and resumed his seat. ‘Heavy in the sense that it is a thick file — a lot to get through — but also heavy in the sense of its content. It’s the file on a felon called Curtis Yates. . apparently he kept a tiger.’
‘A tiger!’
‘So it is alleged, but they are not easy to acquire, so I don’t know how much credence to give to that story. . allegedly used the beast as an “enforcer”.’
‘Oh. . but you say allegedly.’
‘Yes, I don’t know what to believe — some of the things in here are quite extreme but are only allegations.’ He tapped the file with his palm. ‘But the accumulation of unsupported reports does begin to sway one after a while.’
‘Yes, I know what you mean; it’s like that in A-Ten, building a case against corrupt coppers is like walking in thick smoke looking for flames.’
‘I can imagine, but this geezer is one slippery customer. We are interested in the murder of three people known to have some association with him, and he might have driven another to take his own life, and, reading his file, two previous lovers and his wife disappeared. The geezer just does not keep his friends for very long.’
‘Blimey, I see the reason for your suspicions. See them clearly. Has he done time?’
‘Yes, he pleaded not guilty to murder but guilty of manslaughter, and the CPS accepted the plea. He was out in five years, so we have his dabs and DNA on file, and sufficient evidence for him to do his rite of passage number to gain the street cred he needed. . but nailing him will be a struggle — he uses gofers for all his dirty work and he holds a terror for some people.’
‘Any visible means of support?’
‘A property company in Kilburn renovating run down properties and renting them to high-end tenants.’
‘Very useful if you want someone to disappear. . all those cellars. . all that concrete.’
‘Yes, that observation has been made. He also has an import/export business in the East End. Those are two that we know of, and go to provide him with a house in Virginia Water.’
‘Not bad.’
‘Indeed. I do wonder what naughties the import/export business conceals.’