by P. F. Ford
Bradshaw said nothing for a moment and then smiled at him. ‘I just want you to understand that it’s possible for you to come back in a completely new capacity – well away from DCI Goodnews.’ He paused for a moment. ‘How does Detective Inspector Slater sound?’
Slater almost fell off his chair. ‘What? I think I must have misheard.’
‘I said it’s not too late to come back,’ said Bradshaw, patiently. ‘You’ve had the break you needed, so why not come back and work for me in a completely new position?’
‘Why would I want to do that?’
‘Because I believe you’re much better suited to the working environment I can offer than working for yourself alongside Mr Norman.’
Slater studied Bradshaw but said nothing. This had come as something of a shock, and he needed time to think about it.
‘How’s Miss Radstock?’ asked Bradshaw.
The question caught Slater completely off guard, and his mouth flapped open in silent surprise.
‘Oh, sorry,’ said Bradshaw. ‘Is she supposed to be a secret?’
‘I don’t know who you’re talking about,’ said Slater hastily, trying desperately to regain his composure.
Bradshaw spread his hands in appeal. ‘Oh, please!’ he said. ‘How stupid do I look? I do hope you never have to lie your way out of trouble, because if there was a prize for the world’s most transparent liar, you’d win it hands down.’ He watched Slater struggling to contain his anger. ‘Oh, I see. You want me to play silly games. Perhaps I should ask how is the former Miss Radstock, who sometimes calls herself Ginger, and up until a few weeks ago, was living on the street?’
Now Slater was getting worried. ‘What do you know about that?’ he asked, nervously.
‘I know she had a rough deal, was unfairly dismissed from her position, and then driven to the brink of bankruptcy. She felt she had to go on the street to hide, did you know that?’
‘Yeah, she told me,’ said Slater.
‘And now she’s living with you.
‘How d’you know all this?’ demanded Slater. ‘Are you spying on us?’
Bradshaw said nothing, which Slater took as an admission of guilt. ‘If you think you’ve come here to try and get your hands on her—’
‘Your chivalry is very honourable, but you needn’t waste it on me,’ said Bradshaw. ‘You should calm down and start thinking, Mr Slater. As far as I’m aware, she hasn’t been accused of committing any crimes, so I’m not here to arrest her. And, would I really come in here and tell you, if I intended to do her any harm?’
Now Slater felt slightly foolish.
‘I’m on your side, and on hers too, come to that,’ said Bradshaw. He looked at the puzzled face before him. ‘Ah. I see you don’t understand.’
‘Don’t understand?’ asked Slater. ‘That’s a bloody understatement! You turn up, unannounced, insisting I want to come and work for you. And then, as if that’s not enough, you start dissecting my private life, and now you want to bring Jenny into it. Yeah, you’re right. I don’t understand!’
‘Whatever Miss Radstock did, she came to you for help,’ said Bradshaw.
‘I don’t think she sought me out deliberately,’ said Slater. ‘It was more of a chance meeting.’
‘Whatever. The point is she ended up with you, and she’s still with you, which tells me you’ve chosen to look out for her.’
‘She’s a friend,’ said Slater. ‘Of course I’m going to look out for her.’
Bradshaw raised his eyebrow for a moment and then smiled slightly. ‘Now, if I’m any judge of character,’ he said, ‘I think you would like an opportunity to find out who did this to her and to set the record straight.’
‘The thought has crossed my mind.’
‘But how are you going to do it?’
‘I’ll find a way.’
‘It would be a lot easier to do it if you were inside an organisation like the police force.’
Slater folded his arms in front of him. ‘I’ve had enough of the police force.’
‘Which is exactly why I’m here,’ said Bradshaw. ‘I can make sure that when you finish your sabbatical, you’re recruited into a new team, and a quite different environment to the one you were in before.’
‘For the last time – I might have been persuaded to go on a sabbatical to think things over, but I never withdrew my resignation, and I still intend to stick to my decision and leave the police force.’
Bradshaw leaned down and opened his briefcase. He removed a folder, placed it on his knee, opened it, and removed a couple of sheets of paper.
‘According to this, you simply requested a sabbatical,’ he said, offering the sheets of paper to Slater.
Slater’s face creased in confusion as he took the pages and studied them. ‘I didn’t write this,’ he said, angrily, brandishing the pages.
‘I think you’ll find a handwriting expert would confirm it was your hand.’
‘But that’s bullshit! Where’s my resignation letter?’
‘Yes, it’s a puzzle isn’t it, old chap? You keep talking about this letter, but there’s no sign of one in your file, just a letter requesting a sabbatical, which you’ll see I myself graciously granted.’
‘Don’t “old chap” me, you condescending arsehole,’ snarled Slater, jumping to his feet. ‘This is—’
‘Look, I understand this is all very confusing,’ said Bradshaw, genially.
‘Confusing? It’s not bloody confusing, it’s blackmail!’
‘Oh, come now, don’t you think that’s rather dramatic? I didn’t say you had to re-join, just that you could if you wanted to. I certainly don’t remember making any threats about what might happen if you didn’t come back. But, let’s face it, some people aren’t cut out for working for themselves. You like organisation and proper structure and procedures to follow, whereas Norman has always been more than happy to muddle along in a mess and fly by the seat of his pants.’
Slater’s mind was in turmoil.
‘I’m not saying either of you is right or wrong,’ added Bradshaw, hurriedly. ‘People are different, that’s just how it is. But how long would it be before you got fed up clearing up behind him, and he got fed up with you complaining about the mess he makes? You could end up getting sick of the sight of each other. Is that what you want?’ He gave Slater a couple of seconds before he continued. ‘And there’s another thing to consider. We both know Mr Norman has no problem with crossing lines. While you were in the force, he could only stray a little way off the path. Do you think working for himself is going to offer more or less control?’
‘He’s good at what he does,’ said Slater, feeling he ought to stick up for his friend.
‘I’m not denying that,’ said Bradshaw. ‘I’m just telling you what you already know. You need to be a part of a bigger organisation. He doesn’t.’
Slater had a feeling of deja vu. Hadn’t Jenny said much the same thing? He shook the thought from his head. ‘I’m not sure I want to come back. I really was sick and tired of the police force and trying to work with my hands tied behind my back. There are so many rules favouring criminals these days, it gets harder and harder to convict them, even when there’s no doubt they’re guilty.’
‘I understand your frustration,’ said Bradshaw. ‘That’s why we lose so many good people. But you need to understand – what I’m putting together isn’t the police force as you know it. This is police work unshackled by so many rules.’
Slater couldn’t deny there was something appealing about this idea. ‘I need to think about this,’ he said.
‘Of course you need time to think,’ said Bradshaw. ‘I’m not looking for a decision right now. But let me ask you a question: didn’t you ever wonder what happened to those officers from the Serious Crime Unit you crossed paths with when you worked with Miss Radstock? An old case, wasn’t it? Ruth someone or other.’
‘Ruth Thornhill,’ said Slater.
‘That’s the one.’
; ‘It wasn’t our brief to follow up with those guys,’ said Slater. ‘Our job was to find Ruth’s killer.’
‘Well, yes, I understand that,’ said Bradshaw, ‘but didn’t you ever think about it?’
Slater didn’t want to admit that he had often wondered what had happened. ‘So what did happen to them?’ he asked casually.
‘Well, that’s just my point,’ said Bradshaw. ‘Nothing happened.’
‘But they were as bent as corkscrews!’ Slater exclaimed.
‘Which just goes to show it’s not what you do, but who you know that counts,’ said Bradshaw. ‘Don’t you think it’s high time that all changed?’
‘Is that what you want me to do? Chase bent coppers?’
‘Not specifically, but it will happen sometimes. You’ve never had any qualms about doing that in the past.’
‘I wouldn’t have any qualms about doing it now,’ said Slater. ‘But I need to understand how it’s going to be any different from before.’
‘I want you to come back as a DI and work for me, leading part of a much bigger team spread across the country. We won’t be as visible as the main force, and we won’t have to follow quite so many rules. We will be more interested in results rather than following procedure. If we can fill the barrel with enough good apples, it’ll be a lot easier to find the bad apples and weed them out.’
Slater couldn’t help but let out a cynical snort of laughter. ‘Ha! Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work now?’
Bradshaw inclined his head to acknowledge Slater’s point. ‘So, you think we should just give in to the bad apples, do you?
Slater conceded the point. ‘But I don’t know you from Adam,’ he said. ‘I don’t recall ever hearing your name before, and yet here you are expecting me to hop into bed with you just because you’ve forged a letter. If I’m honest, there’s a big part of me that thinks I should tell you to piss off and let me get on with my life.’
‘Come now, Mr Slater. It’s not like you to be so fussy about who you hop into bed with, is it? Perhaps we should ask DCI Goodnews, or maybe Miss Radstock? I’m sure they could both give an interesting answer.’
Slater’s mouth flapped open.
‘The bed-hopping analogy was yours,’ Bradshaw said simply.
‘You’re barking up the wrong tree with Jenny Radstock,’ said Slater, guiltily. ‘I already told you – I’m just doing a friend a favour. She has her own room, and there’s no more to it than that.’
Bradshaw smiled indulgently. ‘Yes, I’m sure that must be the case,’ he said, ‘but I’m not actually here to discuss your sex life. I’m sure it would be a fascinating subject, but it’s getting off the point. Don’t you think Miss Radstock deserves to have her life back?’
‘I already told you, I’ll help her when she’s good and ready,’ said Slater, ‘but not because some clown wanders in off the street and says so.’
‘Well, I suggest you don’t take too long about it,’ said Bradshaw, ‘because if I could find her, it stands to reason they could too. For all you know, they could be biding their time right now, just waiting for the right moment.’
Slater shook his head fiercely. ‘That’s a load of old bollocks.’
‘Is it?’ Bradshaw leant back in his seat. ‘I found her quite easily.’
‘She’s quite safe where she is.’
‘And you know this for certain, do you?’ Bradshaw fixed him with an intent stare. ‘Hasn’t your house been broken into before? Wasn’t there an incident with some Russian chappie with a gun?’
Now Slater wasn’t so sure of himself. Bradshaw really did seem to know a lot about all of them. What if he wasn’t quite so full of shit after all?
He peered at Bradshaw suspiciously. ‘How do I know you’re not just feeding me a load of crap?’
‘Have I got any of my facts wrong so far?’ Bradshaw stared at Slater, as if challenging him to prove him wrong. Slater shifted awkwardly in his seat but said nothing.
‘By the way,’ said Bradshaw, ‘how’s Mrs Jolly getting on? It’s a shame about her husband turning on your friend Norman like that, but then again, every cloud has a silver lining, doesn’t it? I wonder . . . do you realise just how close she and Norman have become?’
Slater said nothing. He wasn’t sure exactly what Bradshaw was suggesting, but whatever Norm and Jane were up to was none of his business, and he certainly wasn’t going to judge them.
‘My, my, isn’t this a cosy setup?’ said Bradshaw. ‘Two happy couples! I almost feel like a gooseberry.’
‘Well, I did think you were a bit of a prick,’ muttered Slater and then said, more loudly, ‘This is all very well, but I still don’t know if I can trust you.’
‘Ah! But how do you know you can’t?’
‘How about because you just walked in off the street and showed me a forged letter? That warrant card could be another forgery for all I know. Any one of a hundred people could walk in here with one of those and make accusations to try and persuade me to work for them.’
Bradshaw stared at Slater for a few seconds, then picked up his briefcase and stood up. ‘I’m sorry you feel that way, Mr Slater. I was hoping you would be interested in joining me. But before I go, here’s something to consider – how many of those hundred people who might have walked in off the street would know how you’ve come to arrive where you are right now, and exactly which accusations would push your buttons? And would they know about Miss Radstock and her situation?’
Slater considered this as he stood up.
‘I thought you would be interested in the job I’m offering,’ said Bradshaw, ‘but obviously I must have got it all wrong.’
‘I’ve already got a job, right here,’ said Slater.
‘Yes. Joe Dalgetty isn’t it? How are you getting on with that?’
Slater was beginning to feel decidedly concerned about just how much Bradshaw knew. ‘How the hell do you know about that?’ he asked.
Bradshaw stared impassively back at him, and Slater felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle.
‘Wait. Are you the guy in the pinstriped suit?’
Bradshaw smiled another condescending smile, but still said nothing.
‘You’re beginning to make me feel uncomfortable,’ said Slater. ‘Is there anything about us you don’t know?’
‘I won’t claim to know everything,’ said Bradshaw, ‘but when we decide to research someone, we are quite thorough. Trust me, there isn’t much I don’t know.’
‘Is that even legal?’
‘That’s a moot point, especially if you speak to the civil liberties lot, but we live in a digital, technological age. It’s just about the only way to keep up with people these days, and even then, the major criminals are still managing to keep ahead. I did tell you we’re a bit different from the police force you know.’
Slater was really struggling to know what to make of Robin Bradshaw, and he was becoming increasingly intrigued by this job offer.
‘So, how are you getting on with your case?’ asked Bradshaw, pointing at Slater’s laptop. ‘I expect you’re finding it a bit difficult to find out what you need to know, especially now you don’t have the resources you used to have at your fingertips. Google will only get you so far, won’t it?’
Slater couldn’t argue with that. ‘It takes a bit of getting used to,’ he admitted. ‘But we’ve only just got the case. We’ve barely started to scratch the surface. We’ll work it out.’
Bradshaw gave him an indulgent smile. ‘But even if the information you need was so easily available, it will take so much longer,’ he said.
‘You still haven’t told me why you sent Rosie to us.’
‘Perhaps it’s a test,’ said Bradshaw, mysteriously.
‘What are you? Some sort of cold-case handler, is that it?’
Bradshaw said nothing.
‘But then, this case can’t be cold, can it?’ continued Slater, thinking aloud. ‘Old Joe only died a few weeks ago.’
He turned hi
s attention back to Bradshaw, who stared back impassively. ‘It would all be so much easier if you had access to those old resources again, wouldn’t it?’ he said.
Slater pulled a face. ‘Somehow, I don’t think there’s much chance of us being allowed to link up with the police databases,’ he said.
Bradshaw’s eyes widened; he was obviously trying to look innocent. ‘But, if you were to come and join me . . .’
‘What are you? MI5?’
Bradshaw gave a small snort of laughter. ‘I think you watch too many spy films.’
‘All right, so let’s assume you are something to do with the police,’ said Slater, ‘and let’s assume I did come back. What then?’
‘You’d be promoted to DI, and you’d get to run your own team.’
‘Based where?’
‘I don’t know that yet,’ said Bradshaw.
‘What sort of cases?’
‘You would be working on cases that I think need further investigation. You would also be in a position where you can look at people of interest when the need arises.’
‘Who would I be looking at?’
‘You don’t need to know that right now.’
‘So, this is going to be a bit like a cold-case squad, but it’s not necessarily cold cases we’d be investigating, right?’
‘As I understand it, they normally use retired officers for that,’ said Bradshaw.
‘How do I check you out?’ asked Slater. ‘There has to be some way of proving you’re for real. Where can I find you online?’
‘Now that would hardly be discreet for someone in my position, would it?’ said Bradshaw.
‘Oh, bloody terrific!’ said Slater. ‘So, I can’t check you out at all? You’re not some nutter who gets his kicks playing out some elaborate cloak and dagger game and pretending to be James Bond, are you?’
Bradshaw guffawed. ‘Good grief, he’s far too active for me. I’m not the action man sort. I prefer using my brain to using my fists.’
‘I’m glad you think this is funny,’ said Slater, sarcastically. ‘But I’ll tell you this: so far, you’re doing a good job of convincing me I don’t want to get involved.’