Walk On By: DI Ted Darling Book 7

by L M Krier

  Then he looked across at the CFI, working away on her hi-tech computer at things he wouldn’t profess to fully understand.

  ‘You. Ocean, isn’t it? Go and get a cup of tea. Same to you. Back in half an hour. No sooner.’

  He didn’t quite get her name right but Océane wisely deduced it was not the best moment to pull him up on his pronunciation.

  Steve was already hurrying out of the door, Rob not far behind him. Only Maurice Brown stubbornly stood his ground, looking defiantly at the Big Boss.

  ‘What part of piss off did you not understand, DC Brown? Don’t try to cover for him. Not this time. You’re better off keeping out of it.’

  Ted had been on the phone in his office when he’d heard the door crash. He’d wound up the conversation as soon as he could and had come out of his door into the main office to see what was going on. He opened his mouth to greet the Big Boss in their usual joking fashion.

  The Big Boss’s voice was a snarl as he bellowed, ‘You! Back inside. DC Brown, if you know what’s good for you, do one. Now.’

  Ted backed meekly into his office and headed instinctively for his kettle. He was clearly in line for a monumental bollocking but he couldn’t for the life of him think what for. At least, he couldn’t think of anything Jim might know about which would warrant one.

  The two of them may have been good friends outside work but they were both policemen, first and foremost, and good coppers. Jim was his boss, more than capable of handing down discipline when necessary. And because Ted respected Jim as much as he liked him, he would take it. He just couldn’t figure out what Jim knew about, or how he’d come by the intelligence.

  The door to Ted’s office suffered the same fate as the outer door, making the whole partition wall shake as it crashed closed. Ted was just about to make Jim a coffee when the Big Boss pulled him up short.

  ‘This is not a social call. I want to know since when do you think you have the right to decide what bloody laws we uphold and which we ignore?’

  ‘Ah,’ Ted said quietly. It was what he always said when he knew he had to measure his words carefully before giving a response.

  Jim was showing no signs of sitting down. He was standing, propped up on his crutches, a light sheen of sweat on his face at the physical effort the stairs had cost him, looking fit to explode. Ted didn’t sit either. He stood behind his chair, his hands resting on the back of it, and tried to formulate his words carefully. It would help if he knew what the Big Boss knew.

  ‘Someone tried to kill you. Twice. And all you’ve done about it is go round and ask him nicely to stop. Is that about the long and the short of it?’

  ‘How did ...?’

  ‘Never mind about how I bloody know. I just bloody do. You’re a police officer, Ted, for god’s sake. It’s your job to uphold the law, not to pick and choose which bits of it. You know perfectly well all this not wanting to press charges shite only happens in crime fiction. So, someone ran you off the road and you did nothing.’

  ‘I didn’t really have anything to go on.’ Ted was aware as he said it how weak it sounded. ‘It could just have been bad driving, and I didn’t get a number. I reported it, though, as a damage only.’

  ‘That was bloody big of you! It’s your job, Ted, dammit, I shouldn’t have to remind you of that. Did you check CCTV? No! Basic bloody errors. So now tell me about the man with the knife.’

  ‘Ah,’ Ted said again.

  ‘Never mind bloody ah!’ Jim’s voice went up a few more decibels. ‘Someone made an armed assault on a police officer and it seems all you’ve done about it is go round and have a cosy chat with the person behind it. Because you know full well who it is and you’ve chosen to do nothing about it. Isn’t that the case?

  ‘Please tell me you didn’t go there on your own? That you have an independent witness of what was said? Who went with you?’

  ‘I’d rather not say, boss,’ Ted said, looking mutinous. He would always defend his team, against all odds. ‘It was my error of judgement; it’s not right that anyone else gets the blame for my actions.’

  ‘Bloody Maurice Brown, then. I knew it from the way he was behaving just now. And he’s just about stupid enough to let you get yourself into a mess like this. If this Edwards bloke has a contract out on you, you should have brought him in and had him interviewed under caution, at the very least. What happens if he ignores you and next time he’s successful?’

  ‘Boss, I put his teenage daughter away. She’s likely to get life with a recommendation she’s never released. He’s a broken man. A father. He didn’t want me killed, just scared off. Imagine the publicity if I arrested him as well as the daughter.’

  ‘You arrested a psychopathic serial killer. Which is your job. It’s what you get paid for. You do not get to choose which laws you uphold. You’re a senior serving officer. You should know better. You’d better start talking and it better be good because I tell you this, Ted. I am a whisker away from taking your badge and sending you home.’

  ‘It’s … complicated. I was with someone. When the knife attack happened. Between us, we dealt with it with no trouble. But it’s someone I can’t involve in this. Which is why I let it drop and just went round to have a word with Edwards. It should be over now.’

  ‘And who is this mysterious other person?’ Then, seeing Ted open his mouth, he cut across him, ‘And don’t even think of saying bloody ah again.’

  Despite the situation, Ted couldn’t hide a grin. Jim knew him so well.

  ‘I think we perhaps both need to go and talk to Debs about this whole thing.’

  That took Baker by surprise. He was amazed at Ted voluntarily involving his other boss, Superintendent Caldwell, in all of this. He’d happily take a kick up the backside from Jim, but the Ice Queen was a stickler for formality. She’d be far more likely to make it official. Ted could find himself in the situation of having a less than favourable report on his otherwise excellent record, at the least.

  ‘Are you sure that’s what you want to do?’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure. She knows who the other person is, and she’ll no doubt be in agreement with me that we need to protect his identity at all costs.’

  Jim was intrigued now, though still angry. He turned and led the way, slowly, awkwardly and painfully, down to the Ice Queen’s office. She looked up in surprise as the two men trooped in, after the briefest of knocks. She glanced from one to the other shrewdly then stood up and went to the coffee machine.

  ‘Gentlemen,’ she said by way of greeting. ‘I’m sensing this is not a social call. I’m also getting the feeling that coffee may be of help to us all. Please sit down.’

  Ted talked, while she prepared the drinks, placing them on the desk then sitting down. She said nothing, allowing Ted to finish.

  ‘The other man was Marty Green. He’s up here because he needs somewhere to hole up for a while, so he has to keep a low profile. Debs and I can both probably hazard a guess as to why.’

  ‘Well, I bloody can’t,’ Jim Baker grumbled. ‘Who is this Green and why are you both shielding him? Is he’s some sort of criminal?’

  Ted looked at the Ice Queen and nodded to her to speak.

  ‘Ted and I have both met Green in our Firearms days. He’s used by the police and other services for teaching special skills, including martial arts and personal survival. He’s,’ she hesitated, then continued, ‘unorthodox. He’s sometimes hired by certain services to carry out tasks which, let’s say, may not be suitable for them to risk using their usual operatives on.’

  Jim looked at her in astonishment over the rim of his coffee cup.

  ‘Are you telling me he’s a Spook?’

  ‘He’s someone it’s not really possible to categorise. Let’s just say that it would be best if minions at our level were to leave him well alone when he says he needs to stay under the radar.’

  She looked at Ted again as she asked, ‘Is he still on our patch?’

  ‘I’ve sorted him with a safe house for
now. Not an official one. He just needs somewhere to lick his wounds for a few days then he’ll be out of our hair. It’s also best that neither of you knows where he is. That way you’re not compromised.’

  Jim was shaking his head in disbelief.

  ‘This is all going way over my head,’ he grumbled. ‘If Debs says that’s the way it needs to be, then I’ll accept it. But we can’t just let the Edwards matter drop, even if we have to leave this man Green out of it.’

  ‘Jim, I’m sorry, you’re right, of course,’ Ted said contritely. ‘I’ll get the DI to bring him in and interview him under caution. We haven’t enough to charge him, and he probably realises it, but at least that makes it official, puts it on the record. I should have put you in the picture earlier and I apologise for not doing so.’

  It was a weary Ted who finally got home, later than usual. Trev was in the kitchen, looking anxious. Ted went over to kiss him on the cheek then sank down in the nearest chair, reaching out a hand to stroke the procession of cats which appeared to greet him.

  ‘Tough day?’ Trev asked, sitting down next to him and taking hold of his other hand.

  ‘Jim chewed me up good and proper. What you see before you are the mangled remains he spat out when he’d finished.’

  ‘I’m sorry. Are you all right?’

  Ted abandoned the cats to take Trev’s hand in both of his as he smiled gently.

  ‘It’s all right. Everything’s all right now. I know it was you who told Jim. He didn’t tell me, of course. But I know it had to be you. And I understand you did it because you were worried about me, because you care about me. So it’s fine. We’re fine. Everything’s going to be fine. I’m past the stage of wanting to eat, so why don’t we just have an early night?’

  Chapter Fourteen

  It was even less of a surprise for Ted to get a call from Marston again first thing the following morning, sounding tetchier than usual. He was at his mother’s house when the call came through, catching up with Green and asking his advice about making good use of Counter Terrorism.

  ‘What the fuck was all that shit about terrorists and arms dealers yesterday? Were you trying to make me look a total twat, bringing something like that up in public without discussing it with me first?’

  As soon as he began speaking, or rather, shouting, down the phone, Ted held it slightly away from his ear so Green could get the gist of the conversation.

  ‘Sorry, sir, that was certainly not my intention. It was just something which came to me, so I thought I’d mention it.’

  Green grinned at him and made a coarse gesture with his hand, expressing his opinion of the unknown, to him, caller.

  ‘We all know you like playing cowboys, waving a big weapon about. But this is my operation, and I’m the one who decides which direction it goes in. I’ll say if and when I decide to bring in any other units. Is that perfectly clear?’

  ‘Yes, sir, completely clear.’

  Marston rang off without another word as Green laughed aloud and asked, ‘Why do you take that kind of shit, Gayboy?’

  ‘Rank structure. You know how it is. I’m stuck with him on this case, whether I like it or not. And he’s always careful how he speaks to me in public. He’ll get his comeuppance. My team are good. We’ll get him his killer, and he’s welcome to take the glory. We’ll just get on with doing the job.’

  ‘I’ll make a few phone calls, find out if anyone knows anything about this lot you’re investigating. Might as well do something while I’m around. One thing I do need to do is a good training workout. Is there a dojo you can get me into?’

  ‘I’m going to my own this evening, as it happens, but that wouldn’t do. I need to take you to the Krav Maga club I use occasionally, on the other side of the Pennines. That’s suitably discreet and better for your needs. I’ll see what I can fix up. Getting away will be the problem for me. I can get you in there, it’s just the transport. You’ve not got a vehicle with you?’

  Green gave him one of his knowing looks.

  ‘I always have a vehicle at my disposal, wherever I am. But you need seriously sorting out as well. I can’t believe how sloppy you’ve got again. It would be a good idea for you to come, too.’

  ‘Leave it with me. I’ll see what I can arrange.’

  It was a day for early morning encounters. Ted was surprised when the Ice Queen came up to his office, before even his team members were in for morning briefing. She, like him, was often an early bird. He wondered what had brought her this time.

  ‘If your kettle is hot, I would quite like some green tea,’ she began, sitting down in the spare chair opposite him.

  ‘Do I sense I’m not going to like what you have to say?’

  ‘Almost certainly not. But I am nevertheless obliged to say it. Or at least to ask it. I know you get asked this question every year, and that every year you refuse, sometimes slightly more forcefully than others. So I do hope you will remember that I am merely the messenger.’

  Ted banged the mugs down on the desk so that the liquid in them sloshed about dangerously.

  ‘This is about Pride? The Chief Constable wants to know if I have any views on a recruitment drive to attract more gay people to join the force? Tell him that I’ll give an opinion on that once he can assure me that every officer of my rank in the force is consulted on every recruitment drive for an event which is not LGBT orientated.’

  Ted took a large swallow of his tea. It was too hot and made him wince. Then he grinned apologetically.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to shoot the messenger. I just wish he could understand how it comes across when he singles me out for something like this.’

  The Super was sipping daintily and more cautiously at her tea, not making the same mistake. Ted took another gulp, smaller this time, before he continued.

  ‘On reflection, though, I think I may have been a little hasty in my reaction. Tell him that this time, since you asked me so nicely, I’d be more than happy to have a look at what was planned and give him my input. As a serving police officer of rank who is in a same sex relationship. You’d better just warn him that using the phrase “openly gay” in my presence is always guaranteed to make the red mist descend, since nobody ever says “openly straight”.’

  She was studying him suspiciously.

  ‘Now you have me worried. As I said before, I’ve never considered you to be a game player yet you’re showing distinct signs of it lately. You’ve always refused point blank, every year, and now you’re meekly acquiescing. I’m wondering what the hidden agenda might be?’

  This time Ted’s smile was guilty.

  ‘With Marston in charge of Croesus, it might be an opportune moment for me to make sure I still have friends in high places.’

  ‘Well, while you’re feeling amenable, I’ll mention the second thing which brings me up here. The Chief Constable has been following the progress of the Mini Police project in Durham and Merseyside. He’s very keen to trial the initiative, and has decided that we, in Stockport, would be ideal guinea pigs to roll it out.

  ‘It will, of course, come under Inspector Turner’s remit. But because of the excellent work you do with young people in your self-defence club, the Chief Constable was wondering if you would consider assisting him in some way?’

  Ted looked at her in disbelief. Had it been anyone other than the straight-laced Superintendent, he would have suspected a practical joke, to see how far he could be provoked before losing it. He could just imagine how Kevin Turner felt about it, with staffing levels at an all-time low. He hoped it wouldn’t aggravate his stomach ulcers.

  The idea of the scheme was to have children aged from nine to eleven volunteering to tackle local issues through community engagement events. Even if he had time for it, it was not the type of thing with which Ted would normally willingly get involved. He could see the surprise on the Ice Queen’s face as he replied.

  ‘Yes, absolutely, no problem. I’ll talk to Kevin and see what I can do to help. I’ll giv
e the Chief Constable a call about Pride, too, as soon as I get a moment.’

  She gave him a guarded thanks, still eyeing him in clear disbelief.

  ‘Just one thing you can perhaps do to help me in exchange, Debs. I have to be at the dojo tonight, come what may, to meet Jezza to see what she’s uncovered, if anything. Perhaps you can cover for me, if Mr Marston calls another of his snap briefings?’

  ‘So, for the time being, Samir Kateb is being left in the wind and kept under observation. The Chief Super has done a risk assessment and it’s considered unlikely that Kateb will allow anyone other than tried and trusted gang members to go near any scam targets in the future. So there should, hopefully, be no further violence. Kateb is still in the area, still operational, but clearly being extremely cautious. Leaving him for now risks more scams but it may be the only way to bring the whole gang in, including the killer, and to close down the operation when the time is right.

  ‘At the moment, our interest centres on this man, Dorian Bacha. So far, we’ve had nothing to show him as being in the country, or being in contact with his uncle, Kateb. Or whatever relation a person’s father’s cousin is to him. We merely have intelligence to indicate that he may well be the person involved.’

  He put up some still shots on the white board as he was speaking. It felt good finally to have something to show for their enquiries, the face of a suspect, at last.

  ‘Dorian Bacha, twenty-two. We don’t have anything on him yet in the way of a criminal record, and these shots aren’t brilliant. The surveillance teams watching his father’s export business snapped him going in and out a few times, but he’s of no real interest to them as he’s not directly concerned in the export business.’

  ‘Boss, I can do better than that. I found him on Facebook,’ Océane told him. ‘It’s an unusual name, so I was able to pin him down. There are some much better photos there. I’ll print them off. Not all his posts are public and he posts a lot in French, but luckily, with a French mother, that presents no problem for me. He hasn’t posted anything public in the last couple of months.’