emerging on the floor where the murder incident room was situated.
This was the problem area.
He needed to get into the incident room unseen, find the typed statements and photocopy them. He also had to make copies of the written statements in the carrier bag.
He pushed the stairs door open wide enough to allow him to peep through the crack into the corridor.
Empty.
He stuck his head out and looked both ways. Clear.
All the while he expected Gallagher or Morton to appear. If they caught him before he completed his task, he was finished.
He stepped into the corridor.
Morton’s office was around the corner. The door to the incident room was directly ahead. Three strides saw him inside.
Two HOLMES operators were working at their computers. Neither looked up. No one else was in the room.
First things first.
Whistling tunelessly, he walked confidently to the copier. He almost screamed when it sensed his approach, clicked on and the message on the control panel told him he had to wait five minutes for the warm-up. A wave of frustration jittered through him. Five minutes is a long time to stand next to a machine, looking guilty.
Better fill the time constructively.
He slid across to the statement reader’s desk where there were three big fat ring-binders bursting with statements. He grabbed one of the folders marked Fleetwood and went back to the copier.
Please wait 4 minutes. Warming up.
Henry snarled at the machine then set to work scanning through the folder. He found one of the statements very quickly and removed all four pages.
Please wait 3 minutes.
‘ Bastard,’ he hissed. He continued to flick through the pages, knowing that each passing second put him in greater jeopardy. He found another, three pages long, and yanked it roughly out of the binder.
2 minutes, the copier taunted.
Henry twitched. Somebody walked past the door.
He found the third and fourth statements he was looking for.
Ready, the copier declared with a prim beep.
‘ At last,’ he breathed.
He stacked the four statements to one side and picked up the plastic bag, pulling out the creased photocopied originals. Because they had been screwed-up and flattened out, Henry did not dare feed them into the copier for fear of causing a jam. He would have to do each sheet one at a time. A slow process, especially when there was a total of nine one-sided and four double-sided sheets.
When the paper tray ran out halfway through the third statement, Henry nearly sank to his knees and cried.
He looked around wildly for more paper and saw a stack of it in one corner of the room, behind a flip-chart stand.
As he was unwrapping a ream, Gallagher appeared at the door.
Henry quickly leaned sideways, putting the flip-chart stand between him and his tormentor, became still and prayed.
Gallagher called something to one of the HOLMES operators, who laughed.
Then he was gone.
Shaking, Henry ripped the wrapping paper away from the A4 sheets, returned to the copier and stacked the paper in the relevant tray, which he slammed back into place.
‘ C’mon, y’bastard — work,’ he hissed at the machine.
Moments later it was ready to restart.
Henry fed the remaining sheets through.
He placed the new copies into the carrier bag, slotting them in amongst all the other papers.
He had originally intended to photocopy the typewritten statements too, but decided to steal them from the binder and hope they would not be missed. He slid them and Derek’s highlighted copies into anA4 envelope, together with a batch of blank statement forms.
As he turned out of the room, Gallagher was coming towards him. ‘Henry. I thought I saw you come in. What’ve you been up to?’
‘ When — now? Or over lunch? If you mean over lunch I’ve been crying in my soup, if you must know. Just now I’ve been to the accounts department to drop my expense sheet off for last month. It’s overdue, you see, and they’ve been on my back to get it in as soon as poss. Life goes on even when you’re corrupt, you know.’
‘ Let’s hope you’re not screwing the system. I’d hate for you to make false claims about anything.’
‘ Gallagher, why don’t you just shove it. You’ve got me by the balls, I accept that, but unless I have to, I don’t really want to have to talk to you.’
‘ You ain’t got much choice, pal.’
Henry eyed him. He wanted to hit him very hard. Instead he shoved the plastic bag into his chest and said, ‘Here, I believe you wanted this stuff’?’
Gallagher took it from him.
‘ Have you been through it?’
Henry took a deep breath. ‘If there’s anything in there that tells me more about your squalid little set-up, then I don’t want to read it. I know more than enough now, thanks.’
‘ Hey, this is just the beginning, Henry,’ the DI sneered. ‘You’re on board now, one of us. You’ll get to like it. Then you’ll start reaping the benefits. It’s not all bad.’
‘ Yes it is,’ said Henry. ‘I hate bent cops.’
‘ Then you must really despise yourself. I mean, all those nasty things you’ve done in the last few days. Makes me look like a beginner.’ Gallagher snorted.
Henry had had enough. ‘Finished?’
‘ Tony Morton wants to see you. Got a little job for you.’
‘ He’ll have to wait.’
Henry shouldered his way angrily past the smirking DI and made his way to the stairs. Gallagher was delving in the carrier bag, not watching Henry, who twisted into the stairwell, then ran down to the public enquiry counter. He opened the security door and handed the envelope through to Karen who was waiting on the other side. She gave him a forced smile, deep concern visible behind her eyes, then left.
With an empty feeling, Henry turned back into the police station and dragged himself unwillingly up to the murder incident room, dreading what might be in store for him next.
‘ Something odd happening, boss.’ It was the voice of an NWOCS detective called Hunt who had been told to keep Henry under surveillance. He had trailed Henry home and then back to work after lunch. He was now parked up outside the police station, talking on a mobile phone to Morton, who was in his temporary office.
‘ What do you mean, odd?’
‘ I followed him home and waited for him to reappear. There was another car in his drive when he arrived. Later he came out with two other people, a man and a woman — not Christie’s wife. Christie got into his own car, they got into the other and followed him back to the nick. The guy stayed in the car. The woman went to the enquiry desk and reappeared after about ten minutes with a large envelope in her hand. Whoa, the car’s just moving off now… What d’ya want me to do?’
‘ Could be nothing. Stick with them. Let me know what they’re up to.’
The call ended at the exact moment Henry knocked on the door and entered the office.
Morton clicked off his mobile.
‘ You wanted to see me?’
‘ Yes, got a good job for you, Henry.’
