One Under

by Cynthia Harrod-Eagles

  ‘You should believe it, too,’ he said. ‘If most people weren’t good, life couldn’t go on.’

  ‘Do you really think it will be hushed up?’ she asked.

  ‘It looks as if they mean to. I don’t think he’d have been so confident if someone hadn’t already reassured him.’

  ‘Then it will have to be leaked to the press,’ Joanna said. ‘Once it’s out there – you can’t put the genie back in the bottle.’

  ‘If they could prove I leaked it, I could be sent to gaol,’ he said soberly. ‘They could invoke the Official Secrets Act.’

  She was frightened for a moment into silence. ‘Then it mustn’t be you that leaks it,’ she said at last.

  ‘Darling, for these purposes, you count as me,’ he said.

  ‘Someone else, then,’ she said stubbornly.

  ‘Well, there might be another way,’ he said. ‘Anyway, we’ve got a little breathing space. Tomorrow’s Sunday.’

  ‘Today,’ she corrected.

  ‘And they’ll hardly bother themselves until Monday, so let’s try and enjoy it.’ He yawned. ‘We could start by going to bed.’

  ‘OK.’ She sighed and stood up. ‘You’re such a worry to me, Bill Slider.’

  ‘But you love me?’

  ‘That’s why you’re such a worry.’ She reached for his hand and drew him towards the door. ‘It’s late. I’m cold. The heating’s gone off. You’ll have to hold me very close in bed. Very close indeed.’

  He underestimated them. There was a phone call at a quarter to nine, and a car arrived at half past to take him to Hammersmith.

  The car was an impressive detail. ‘What do they think, you’ll do a runner?’ Joanna asked, but he could see she was upset.

  ‘Try not to worry,’ he said.

  ‘What do I tell your father?’ she asked following him to the door, George tottering behind her, holding on to her trouser leg.

  Slider shrugged. ‘Everything. No point in trying to keep anything from him – he always finds out somehow.’

  ‘He’ll worry.’

  ‘He’s tough.’

  It was strange riding in the back of a big leathery car with a uniformed police driver in front. West London in its Sunday morning quiet bowled by. It was a cold, bright, breezy day – very Aprilly, he thought. He was aware of a renegade strand of hilarity in him, the thing had always made him want to giggle when he was a child and on his way to the headmaster’s room. They were not pleased with him – the magnitude of their not-pleasedness was manifested in sending a car for him – and he was probably looking at six of the best, at least. It was no laughing matter. Other possible consequences crowded into his mind and killed the giggle stone dead. The prospect of prison was terrifying. Death would almost be preferable to that. Each person had one unfaceable fate. He could understand why Canonbury had killed himself.

  He was afraid he might have to face the AC, but Millichip was not there. The borough commander saw him alone, which gave Slider a slight lift of hope. If it was a formal disciplinary meeting, there would have had to be witnesses, a representative for Slider, someone from HR, someone from the IPCC if it were serious enough.

  Instead, Carpenter raged at him solo. ‘What’s the matter with you? Have you got a death wish? You were told to leave well alone. I personally told you not to speak to Mr Marler. Only yesterday you were told to drop the whole business, and the next thing – the very next thing you do is go round to Mr Marler’s private residence and accuse him of murder.’

  ‘Actually, not—’

  ‘Be quiet! There are things going on here that are well above your pay grade, Slider. Things you don’t know about. This whole business is desperately sensitive, don’t you understand that? It has to be handled by people of very senior rank, people with the skills and experience to defuse the situation carefully. If it were to blow up, it could do untold damage to the whole service. You were told other people would deal with it. What the hell were you thinking?’

  It was a rhetorical question, but Slider answered it. He was wondering, above all, how much Carpenter knew, how much he was implicated. Whether he was just a useful idiot, or he was actively protecting ‘important’ people – for the sake of his career, or the status quo, or some perception of larger public order, the ‘fabric of society’ …

  ‘I was thinking that it was going to be buried and forgotten, sir. I was thinking there was going to be a cover-up.’

  Carpenter blinked, but he reacted quickly. ‘Cover-up of what?’ he said, managing some exasperation. ‘There’s nothing to cover up. You have no evidence, no evidence at all, that anything was going on.’

  ‘We have an eyewitness to the murder of Kaylee Adams—’

  ‘The unsubstantiated testimony of a girl of no character, high on drugs and drink,’ Carpenter said with contempt.

  ‘Three separate girls have told us about the sex ring, the underage girls, the drugs.’

  ‘Nobody is going to believe them, rather than people of position.’

  ‘Sir Giles Canonbury didn’t think that,’ Slider said.

  Carpenter glared. ‘You don’t do well to remind me of that. You went to see him, alone and unauthorized—’

  ‘I don’t need authorisation to interview a potential witness,’ Slider said. He found himself, now, completely calm. Carpenter didn’t know, he thought, and the belief soothed him. ‘Sir, I’d like to know what is going to be done. Something like this – you can’t keep a lid on it. It’ll come out, and the more there’s perceived to be a cover-up, the worse it will look. Look at Saville. Look at Dolphin Square.’

  ‘Don’t presume to lecture me!’ Carpenter said hotly. ‘Do you think I don’t know what’s right? Nobody’s talking about a cover-up.’ He stopped, his eyes puzzled. Slider thought he had just realized that that was exactly what was being talked about. It was only a second’s pause. He rallied. ‘The matter will be dealt with, and dealt with properly, at the appropriate level – which is not you, however much of a white knight you believe yourself to be. And I’m warning you, Slider, if this gets out into the press, I’ll know exactly where to look for the leak.’

  ‘Is that an official warning, sir?’

  ‘I’m warning you,’ Carpenter glared. ‘That’s enough for you to know.’

  ‘Sir,’ Slider said quietly, ‘there may be another way.’

  ‘Another way what?’ Carpenter snapped.

  ‘Another way to get at them. A way to get Mr Marler on the ropes without mentioning the sex ring. And I’m pretty sure a lot of the others are implicated as well.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Financial impropriety,’ Slider said.

  Al Capone, his mind whispered.

  ‘I think we ought to look into Marler’s pet project, the North Kensington Regeneration Trust. I think there’s a lot of suspect financial activity going on there, and it may well involve the most powerful members of the sex ring. You see, Peloponnos dishonestly got Marler’s planning permission through, and was rewarded by being moved to the trust at a larger salary. And Marler told me last night that he’d recruited Peloponnos to handle certain sensitive matters for him there. There are protected files on Peloponnos’s work computer, including one named Cope, which is the old name of Marler’s house. I think we ought to look at them. It occurs to me to wonder, you see, how Marler could have afforded to buy Holland Lodge, and do the alterations to it.’

  ‘He has a rich wife,’ Carpenter said, but Slider could see his attention was caught.

  ‘Not that rich. We’re talking multiple millions. But you know very well that urban regeneration is wide open to bribes and backhanders from developers and other powerful “investors”. A lot of people get very rich that way. If we can go after the financial crime …’

  ‘This is all pure supposition.’

  ‘Then let me look at the files and see. Let me take the trust apart.’

  Carpenter slapped him down, but there was a telling beat before he opened his m
outh, a second of thought. ‘You will do nothing. You have been guilty of disobeying orders, and seriously unprofessional conduct. I shall be convening a disciplinary hearing on Monday and we’ll see what happens to you then.’

  ‘But if there’s a hearing, everything will come out,’ Slider said. It was a delicate moment. If the Official Secrets Act was invoked, he would not be able to defend himself without committing a breach which would lead to imprisonment. But he sensed in Carpenter no real appetite for the hunt. Something was going on which he was being obliged to defend, without knowing exactly what was in it.

  ‘You don’t want to take that attitude,’ Carpenter said loftily. ‘An official hearing goes on your record, whatever the result.’ He thought a moment, and went on: ‘However, if you agree to let me deal with it …’ He looked away, across the room, as if the whole business meant nothing to him.

  ‘Sir?’ Slider said.

  ‘You know I can’t let this go. Where would my discipline be if it was known you ignored my orders and got away with it? We’re talking suspension, at the least.’

  ‘Sir,’ said Slider, his heart sinking.

  ‘Four weeks’ suspension.’ A pause. ‘With pay.’ He frowned, looking awkward, as though too many things were tumbling through his mind for him to concentrate.

  Slider considered. Suspension with pay was a good let-out. It meant no guilt was imputed to him. There would be nothing on his record. On the other hand, he would not be in his office to pursue the case.

  ‘And what about the rest of it, sir?’ he asked.

  Carpenter jerked back to the here and now. ‘Don’t push your luck,’ he growled.

  ‘But will you look into the trust? Let my people look into it?’

  Carpenter thought a long moment. ‘It would have to be done discreetly,’ he said.

  Slider’s heart leapt. ‘I’ve got a good team,’ he said. ‘But it would have to be done without telling the AC,’ he suggested.

  ‘If what you’ve been implying is true,’ Carpenter said, ‘he won’t be long in finding out.’

  ‘But I don’t believe he’d be able to interfere, sir. Not in something like that. How would it look?’

  Carpenter nodded. ‘And what if you don’t find any impropriety?’

  ‘That’s a chance we’ll have to take.’

  ‘You’ll have to take,’ said Carpenter. ‘If this doesn’t work, the shit is really going to hit the fan.’

  Slider was almost immune to fans by this time. ‘Meanwhile, sir,’ he said, ‘can my team also interview some taxi drivers. Very discreetly.’

  Carpenter looked at him a long moment. ‘I can’t understand why someone hasn’t murdered you long ago,’ he said wearily.

  ‘Look on it as a holiday,’ Porson said. ‘With Easter coming up as well, you lucky pup. Four weeks off with your family. Have a rest, forget the whole sheboodle, come back refreshed blah blah blah.’

  ‘Unless someone changes their mind meanwhile,’ Slider said.

  ‘Well, you’re not out of the woods yet,’ Porson agreed. ‘What the hell made you do it? No, don’t tell me, you thought they were going to cover it all up.’

  ‘Don’t you?’

  Porson sighed. ‘Sometimes there are things you can’t do anything about.’

  ‘But not this, sir,’ Slider pleaded. ‘Not something like this. You have a daughter yourself …’

  ‘Oh, get off it,’ Porson snarled. ‘You can’t carry the woes of the whole world. Anyway, you’re not the only copper in the barrel,’ he added cryptically.

  ‘I’m depending on you to tell me everything,’ Slider said to Atherton. ‘Daily reports. It’s going to drive me nuts otherwise.’

  ‘I shall be as permeable as a moth-eaten sieve with extra holes,’ said Atherton. He eyed his boss curiously. ‘Do you really think Commander Carpenter didn’t know?’

  ‘I think he’s a career man who does what he’s told without asking questions, when the telling comes from high enough,’ said Slider. ‘But I may be maligning him.’

  He left Atherton to figure that one out while he want to talk to the rest of the troops.

  Connolly rang him up one evening. ‘I thought you’d want to know, boss. Karen Adams died early this morning, in hospital.’

  ‘Karen Adams?’

  ‘Kaylee’s mother. Multiple organ failure, after the drug overdose.’

  ‘Oh. I’m sorry.’

  ‘So am I. Not for her, for Julienne. She’s in care, o’ course, but now she’ll never come out. Rotten thing for a kid her age.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Slider. Look what had happened to Tyler Vance.

  ‘She’s just the sort,’ Connolly began, and stopped. ‘If they don’t break up that ring, what are the chances she’ll meet a taxi driver one day? She’s got her sister’s example in front of her.’

  ‘Her sister was killed.’

  ‘But she had a good time first, and made some jingle,’ said Connolly. ‘That’s what Julienne will see. I wish I could—’

  ‘But you can’t,’ Slider said firmly.

  ‘No. I know. Can’t rescue every dog in the pound.’

  Atherton came to dinner. ‘Things are turning out very interesting at the trust,’ he said, on the sofa with a gin and tonic while Joanna finished off in the kitchen. ‘Enough so that Mr Carpenter’s authorized the seizure of all the papers. Not that there’ll be anything untoward in them – it’ll all be hidden on the computer – but it’ll make sure there isn’t any doctoring done while we look.’

  ‘Carpenter actually decided that?’

  ‘Well, it was Mr Porson who said it, but he hinted it came from higher up. So our tails are up. Meanwhile, we’re interviewing cabbies. And one of the dispatchers is a woman, and she’s started to look uneasy. I think we might be able to lean on her.’

  ‘Good. Excellent.’

  ‘How’s the holiday?’ Atherton asked, examining him curiously. ‘You seem unusually relaxed.’

  ‘I’m doing my best. It’s strange having to sit on my hands while someone else conducts the orchestra. But underneath I’m a raging volcano.’

  ‘Try not to think about it.’

  ‘Easier said than done.’

  ‘I’ll give you something else to chew over,’ Atherton said. ‘I had drinks with Emily, had a long talk. She wants to give it another shot.’

  ‘She’s staying in London?’

  ‘She’s been wanting to move back for a while. And there’s a job going with CNN’s London newsdesk. And—’ his grin became indecently wide – ‘she’s been missing me. Little me! Who’d a thunk it?’

  Slider looked worried. ‘But won’t you just be back where you were before? She’ll start wanting commitment, and you’ll start feeling trapped.’

  ‘Oh well,’ Atherton said with an airy shrug that didn’t entirely fool Slider. ‘The ride’ll be fun, even if the destination’s wrong.’

  Serious financial improprieties were discovered in the running of the trust, implicating not only Marler but developers, builders, property funds, large investors, even a charity. Peloponnos had assembled a coherent account in the file name COPE, and many of the names on the ‘donors’ list were involved. The report was being collated, ready for the DPP to bend his mighty brain over.

  And then the Holland Lodge sex ring scandal burst into the news with all the impact and unexpectedness of a V2.

  A large house in West London, the private residence of a prominent MP, is claimed to be the centre of an alleged paedophile ring. Claims concerning long-term sex abuse of underage girls at drug-fuelled parties by VIPs and politicians are as wide-ranging as they are shocking. The most serious allegations, involving a murder, have emerged from an abuse victim given the code name ‘Wendy’. She told of years of abuse at the hands of eminent men including senior politicians and members of Britain’s establishment. ‘Wendy’ came forward first to an independent investigative journalist, giving the names of ‘VIPs’ allegedly involved in the abuse.

  Atherton ran
g while Slider was still staring open-mouthed at the newspaper.

  ‘It’s all over everywhere,’ he said. ‘TV, radio, the internet. The media’s going mad.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it.’

  ‘They haven’t exactly named Millichip yet, but there are hints that a senior Scotland Yard policeman is involved in a cover-up. Mr Porson wants you to come in for a little chat. In your own time. Meaning now, if not sooner.’

  ‘It wasn’t me,’ Slider said.

  ‘I never thought it was. But you’d say that even if it was, wouldn’t you?’ said Atherton.

  ‘Not to you,’ said Slider.

  It was strange to be back. He’d forgotten the smell of the place, which seemed very strong after an absence. He’d forgotten the subaural hum. His team looked at him with a mixture of pleasure and wariness that touched his heart. He wanted to be back with them. He wanted to know what they were all doing, how his ground was faring without him.

  Porson was actually sitting down, but he got up as soon as Slider appeared, drew his eyebrows down like a couple of tatty old grey comforters, and said, ‘All right, cards on the table time. Was it you?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  Porson made an exasperated sound and began his usual pacing. ‘Look, I know you’d say that whatever, but I want the truth. Your secret’s safe with me, but I want to know.’

  ‘I didn’t leak it, sir. And nor did my wife.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘I asked her. She doesn’t lie.’

  The eyebrows relaxed. ‘Well, whoever it was, it’s done our job for us. Can’t shut the stable door once the genie’s out of the bag. The only question is, how far will it go? But I had it this morning from HQ that the Home Secretary’s been on. Something this big, there’ll have to be a full police operation. They’ve apparently given it a code name. Operation Neptune.’

  ‘Neptune?’

  Porson shrugged. These names were taken from a list of what were supposed to be neutral words when investigating a major crime. ‘Giving it a name means they’re committed. Well, they couldn’t back off, given the media storm. So it’ll be out of our hands now.’ He looked carefully at Slider. ‘You understand. We’re all off the hook. It’ll be properly looked into, every aspic. It’s a result.’