Mean Spirit

‘With respect, boss,’ Maiden said, ‘CIB should have been in here en masse two year ago.’

‘Don’t.

‘Sorry?’

‘I can see your little bloody can of worms rolling towards me, Maiden. I would like you to pick it up very carefully and place it neatly back on the shelf behind you.’

‘You’re saying you don’t want to know what we were discussing in the Crown?’

‘I said place it on the shelf. I didn’t say throw it in the bin.’

‘Just that some things have a limited shelf-life,’ Maiden said.

Bradbury began to hiss through his teeth again, tapping his knee as though he was trying to keep something off the boil.

‘All right,’ he said eventually, ‘off the record, I think we both know that quite a few people were very glad when that business appeared to have sorted itself out. An inquiry would’ve cost silly money with no appreciable change in the situation.’

‘Except that a senior officer of this division might have been doing serious time by now.’

‘And this force would be under the wrong spotlight again.’

‘But the bastard’s still-’

‘Maiden.’

Maiden shut up.

‘I’m trying to help you, lad,’ Bradbury said.

Come on, Mr Maiden, I’m trying to help you … No-one had seen Vic die. No-one had heard him scream, probably because he hadn’t screamed. The killer must have been parked, in Maiden’s car, out of sight but close enough to watch him and Clutton emerge and go their separate ways on foot.

Maiden said quietly, ‘I really, really want the bastard who nicked my car and drove it over Vic Clutton. Whoever he is. Whoever he’s … linked to.’

Bradbury hit the reports again. ‘Lad, there are some people, not ten yards from this office, who think we’ve already got him in the building. No. I mean you, you daft bastard! You say in your statement that you and Clutton came out of the Crown and there was your car … gone. Anybody else in the car park at the time to back this up? Apparently not. So, you’ve got only one witness to the apparent theft and he’s dead. Right. You could’ve gone back in the pub and used the phone there to report the car stolen. You didn’t. You could’ve called in here — not much of a detour, if my geography’s reliable. You didn’t. You went home. Mr Cool.’

‘Did they find any prints on the car?’

‘Apart from yours?’

‘Oh, come on, boss,’ Maiden said. ‘Whoever did this didn’t even attempt to make it look like a hit and run.’

‘Ah yes.’ Bradbury leaned back. ‘Hit and run. You know a bit about hit and run, don’t you, Bobby?’

‘This and that,’ Maiden said tonelessly.

‘Never caught whoever ran you over, did we? Night you snuffed it.’

Maiden said nothing.

‘You see, if we open up your famous can of worms, we also find the old rumour that your accident coincided with your ultimately fruitless investigation of the late Tony Parker …’

‘Only fruitless because he died, sir.’

‘… whose payroll, at that time, as is fairly well known, included one Victor Clutton.’

‘But-’

‘Working, I believe, as a driver. And minder to Mr Parker’s daughter, Emma, who-’

Maiden stood up. ‘That was nothing to do with this, and you bloody well-’

‘Sit down, Bobby. I’m merely pointing out what’s going to be said if we open the can of worms. Sit the fuck down.’

Maiden sat.

‘Now,’ Bradbury said, ‘while nobody is suggesting you deliberately planned this man’s death, being stupid enough to knock him over with your own car, there has been the more likely suggestion that you and Clutton fell out in the pub and he walked out and you followed him in your motor, in a bit of a rage, and …’

‘Whose theory is that?’

‘… quickly abandoning the car and later reporting it stolen.’

‘In which case, how did I get back from that layby up the bypass in time to report the theft to Lisa Starling? No buses. Could have hitched a lift, I suppose, but that would’ve been a risk.’

‘Perhaps you’re very fit, Bobby.’

‘Not any more.’

‘You still made it to the hospital on foot. Who told you about it, by the way?’

‘Mutual friend. A nurse. Why don’t you just caution me, boss?’

‘This is the unofficial chat, Bobby. You see, while I’m a man best noted for not costing the Service any money when it can be avoided, you, on the other hand, are that rarity — a copper who’s managed to progress through actual thief-catching talent. Which, admittedly, means fuck all these days — it’s people like me who are valued by our masters, Home Secretary downwards. However, in these very particular circumstances, it seemed clear to me that you should be the man to take charge of Elham CID and I still believe that, all right?’

Maiden couldn’t form a reply; he was losing touch with Bradbury’s reality.

‘But if that can gets opened now, Inspector Maiden, there’s no way you’ll get that job. Your career goes on ice until it’s sorted. Which may be a while.’

‘I don’t really know what you mean.’

‘You bloody do, Bobby. Now …’ Bradbury slid the thin sheaf of statements into a cardboard file ‘… I understand you’re on leave. Two weeks. Beginning tomorrow morning.’

‘Boss?’

‘So, off you go. Much as we would value your input on this vexed issue, I’m afraid we can’t afford to pay you, Bobby.’

‘Pay’s not a problem,’ Maiden said.

‘Go home, lad. I don’t believe you murdered bloody Clutton, but I’m not having you anywhere near the investigation. Until we pull somebody, we’ll tell the media it was a hit and run and the car was nicked, which is why the driver pissed off. We won’t tell them who it was nicked from.’

‘Somebody will,’ Maiden said.

‘And I shall make it known’, Bernard Bradbury half-rose, ‘that if anybody leaks this, I will have his balls on a saucer, next to his warrant card. And you — I don’t want you muddying waters. I don’t want any freelance stuff, any private sniffing around. If you go away — which I strongly recommend — leave me a note with address and phone number. In fact, take your mobile and keep it charged.’

‘What if I disappear?’

‘You won’t. Will you?’

‘No,’ Maiden said.

‘Right,’ Bradbury said. ‘Have a nice time.’

‘Guy’s right,’ Sister Anderson said over after-midnight fish and chips in the hospital grounds. ‘How’s he gonnae get to the bottom of it with you trampling the evidence?’

It was Andy’s breaktime. Maiden had bought the chips from a van outside Feeny Park.

‘It’s a question of what they wanted the most, Bobby — you set up or Vic out the way. No’ for you to speculate. Get out the place, let the boss guys take care of the cleaning.’

‘Except they won’t. In the end, they’ll just recarpet,’ Maiden said gloomily. ‘They don’t want the scandal and they don’t want to spend the money. Nothing changes.’

‘In which case, you’re no’ gonnae change it on your own, are you, son?’ Andy stabbed at her chips with a wooden fork. ‘Jesus God, Bobby, for a guy working tae expand his inner consciousness and find enlightenment, you