Chameleon's Shadow

demonstrate that he knew Acland’s mind better than Derek did.

Beale studied the young man’s face which, despite its pallor, was set in grim determination to accept the superintendent’s challenge. ‘You’re under no obligation to talk to us now, Lieutenant,’ he said firmly. ‘If you prefer, you can come to the station tomorrow. Indeed my advice would be to do that. I agree with Mr Hardy, you don’t look well enough to answer questions.’

‘I’m OK. I’d rather do it now.’

‘At least let him lie down,’ Derek protested. ‘Dr Jackson said he should be in bed.’

‘Would you like to do that, Charles?’ the superintendent asked.

‘No.’

‘I didn’t think you would.’ He smiled. ‘And just to reconfirm for these gentlemen’s benefit, you’re quite willing to answer a few questions? It’s purely for background information. I estimate ten minutes or so. Is that acceptable to you?’

‘Yes.’

Jones glanced at the landlord. ‘Thank you, Mr Hardy. We’ll take it from here. Would you mind closing the door as you leave?’ He waited until Derek’s footsteps had vanished down the corridor. ‘There’s no requirement to stand to attention, Lieutenant,’ he said. ‘You’re not on parade.’

‘You’ll think less of me if I don’t.’

Jones eyed him with amusement. ‘It’s certainly more usual to see signs of nerves in the people we interview. Don’t you have anything to feel guilty about, Charles? You’re a rare man, if so.’

‘Nothing that concerns you.’

‘Is that right?’ Jones crossed his legs and made a play of consulting a notebook that he took from his pocket. ‘So why does your name keep cropping up in this inquiry? We’ve been told you used this pub on a few occasions last year. Is that true?’

‘Yes.’

‘You always sat alone and cold-shouldered anyone who tried to talk to you.’ The inflection of the superintendent’s voice took on a judgemental note. ‘That suggests you were antisocial even before you went to Iraq.’

‘If you like.’

‘Then I’m genuinely confused. Why would Dr Campbell lead us to believe it’s your disfigurement that’s caused you to be wary of people?’

‘She wouldn’t know. She didn’t meetmeuntilafterIhadsurgery.’

‘She said your commanding officer described you as friendly and outgoing until the accident.’

‘He was a good man. I got on with him.’ Acland abandoned his rigid posture to press his palms against the wall to support himself. ‘And the attack on my Scimitar was not an accident, Superintendent. It was a targeted explosion that killed two of my troopers.’

‘I apologize,’ Jones said immediately. ‘It wasn’t my intention to belittle what happened . . . or your part in it. To call it an accident is to suggest that two brave lives were wasted through negligence.’ He met the lieutenant’s gaze. ‘And that would certainly be something to feel guilty about.’

Acland stared back at him. ‘You don’t even know what bravery is.’

‘Then tell me.’

But Acland shook his head.

‘Is it about proving you have bigger balls than the person next to you? Is that why you tried to steer Dr Jackson off the road tonight? To see what she’s made of?’

A spark – an acknowledgement that Jones was right? – glinted in the younger man’s good eye. ‘Is that what she’s told you?’

Jones ignored the question. ‘Why did you need to test her? What did she do to provoke you?’

‘Talked too much.’

‘About what?’

‘Sex.’

Jones lifted an eyebrow. ‘With whom?’

‘No one in particular. She was telling me about the types she fancies and the types she doesn’t.’

‘So it was a discussion about gay sex?’

‘I wouldn’t describe it as a discussion.’

‘A lecture?’

‘Something along those lines.’

Jones was sceptical – he couldn’t imagine Jackson delivering a monologue on same-sex relationships to anyone as fastidious about the subject as Charles Acland – but he didn’t press the issue. ‘Did Dr Jackson know you’d used this pub before when she brought you here?’

‘I wouldn’t think so. I haven’t mentioned it to her.’

‘Did you ever come across a man called Harry Peel in here? Taxi driver . . . five feet ten . . . late fifties . . . dark curly hair . . . London accent. Ring any bells?’