Fry waved the file at him. ‘Ben, George Malkin is another one of the names on Nick Easton’s list. You’ve been wandering backwards and forwards across their enquiry, without knowing what the hell you were doing.’
Cooper felt a little surge of excitement, as if all his instincts had been justified.
‘What are we going to do?’
‘Have you got anything on for the rest of today?’
‘Not a thing.’
‘And have you got a phone number for the Lukasz family?’
‘Yes.’
‘Try them. We’ll go and see them.’
Cooper rang. There was no reply. ‘They’re not in.’
‘Malkin, then.’
He tried another number. George Malkin was in. but said he
o ‘
would be busv.
v
‘We’d really like to come today, Mr Malkin,’ said Cooper.
‘If you must. But be warned you’ll take me as you find me.’
Cooper nodded at Fry. ‘He’ll see us.’
‘Let’s go, then,’ she said. ‘I’ll let DI Hitchcns know the situation, and we’ll see how your friend Malkin comes into this.’
But Cooper still wasn’t sure where they stood. The arrival
255
of the Ministry of Defence Police had confused him, and so did Diane Fry’s sudden interest.
‘Diane, do you think I’m right, then - that there might he some connection with the Lancaster crash?’
‘If it was just you, Ben, I’d say it was definitely your imagination,’ said Fry.
‘But it isn’t just me?’
‘No. When the MDP phoned this morning, one of the first things they asked for was to be shown the site of the wreck of Lancaster SUV.’
Ben Cooper had never had any contact with the Ministry of Defence Police before, except when he had met some members of their surveillance unit on a training course. But he did have an old acquaintance in the RAF Police. Carol Parry was a local woman. Soon she would be finishing her time in the RAF, and she had been talking about applying to Derbyshire Constabulary for a job. Derbyshire would welcome her with open arms — officers with experience would be vital to balance the number of new recruits who were filtering into the ranks.
o
While he waited for Diane Fry, Cooper gave Carol Parry a call.
‘The MDP arc an entirely different animal to us,’ said Parry. ‘They have a much wider remit, and they deal with civilians. All our customers are servicemen, and most of them end up with the provosts in the Military Correctional Training Centre at Colchester. If the Court Martial gives them more than eighteen months, they transfer to a Home Office prison. So we’re not really concerned with punishing serious crimes.’
‘Who is, these days?’
‘Well, don’t tell the MDP you’ve spoken to me. They won’t like it.’
‘Why not?’
‘There’s no love lost between the services. It’s like we take the mickey out of the Royal Military Police, and the RMP call us “snowdrops”. But the MDP, they don’t like either of us. Their numbers arc being hacked all the time, because we’re finding other ways of doing the job. It’s the way of the world.’
256
‘But we work together with the RAF Police when it’s needed. We cooperate.’
‘Ah, but that’s because we need you. The RAF Police have no powers of arrest. You have the constabulary powers. But so does Sergeant Caudwell. By the way, are Caudwell and her staff armed?’
‘What? I have no idea.’
‘Seventy-five per cent of MDP officers are permanentlyarmed.’
‘In Derbyshire we have to be specially trained before we’re approved to carry firearms,’ protested Cooper. ‘We have to pass regular tests.’
O
‘So do they,’ said Parry. ‘Every one of them is fully weapons trained. It makes you remember what they’re really there for. Of course, the only time the general public is likely to notice them is when they’re escorting nuclear convoys up the Al. It’s
a very British way — if you don’t make a fuss about it. nobody
j j ^ ‘ j
notices.’
‘That’s been a help,’ said Cooper. ‘I suppose.’
