‘And she’s an employee.’
‘I didn’t say anything, Spider.’
Shepherd burned the video on to a CD, then copied the original email on to the same disk.
‘Anything interesting in his in-box?’ asked the Major.
Shepherd clicked through Basharat’s emails. There was nothing out of the ordinary, mainly gossip to friends in Qatar and his brother in Riyadh. ‘Just chit-chat,’ he said. He ejected the CD and gave it to the Major. ‘What’s the plan now?’
‘We’ll give the video a full working over, and I’ll run a check on the email,’ said Gannon. ‘We should be able to track it back to its source. Let’s just hope it’s in Iraq.’
Shepherd walked the Major out to the van. Overhead the moon was full, so clear that they could see the craters on its surface. ‘Geordie’s boss is in town tomorrow,’ said the Major. ‘Can you come to Portland Place in the afternoon?’
‘Sure,’ said Shepherd. ‘We’re on a loose rein at the moment.’
The Major climbed back into the Transit van and drove off. As Shepherd walked to the front door he switched on his mobile. He had one voicemail message and he listened to it as he locked the front door. It was Caroline Stockmann, the unit’s new psychologist.
Shepherd walked into the King’s Head and looked around. Brown coat, brown hair and glasses, was how she’d described herself. Arranging to meet in the pub down the road from his house was a smart move, he thought, as he walked through the bar. If he didn’t turn up she didn’t have far to walk to his house. That had been one of Kathy Gift’s tricks, turning up on his doorstep unannounced.
Caroline Stockmann was sitting in a quiet corner with a pint of beer in front of her. Chestnut hair rather than brown, a bit shorter than shoulder-length, glasses with rectangular frames. She was reading a copy of the Economist and looked up from it as he walked over. ‘Dan?’ He frowned at the pint glass and she smiled. ‘You expected me to be sipping orange juice?’ she asked.
Shepherd was lost for words. That was exactly what he’d thought. It was late afternoon but, even so, their meeting was business rather than social. And a pint of beer was the last thing he’d have expected a female psychologist to be drinking. ‘Sorry. Yes. Dan – Dan Shepherd.’
‘You can have orange juice if you want, but I’m off home after this and I’ve had a rough day,’ she said.
‘No, I could do with a drink, too,’ said Shepherd. Stockmann extended her hand and he shook it. She had a firm grip. He noticed the engagement and wedding rings on her left hand. ‘Do I call you Dr Stockmann, Mrs Stockmann or Caroline?’
‘Caroline is fine.’
Shepherd went over to the bar and returned with a Jameson’s, soda and ice. He sat down opposite her. ‘Do you do a lot of interviews in pubs?’
‘I pretty much go where I have to,’ said Stockmann. ‘You guys don’t work office hours, and it’s not as if you can pop into the local police station, is it? Where did Kathy see you?’
Shepherd grinned. ‘She used to turn up at my house, but that was because I kept missing appointments.’
‘Deliberately?’
‘As you said, we work odd hours. It’s hard to plan ahead.’
‘Which is why pubs are a good idea,’ she said. ‘And they pull a good pint here.’
‘I’m not really a beer drinker,’ said Shepherd.
‘Watching your weight?’
‘It’s an undercover thing. If I drink beer, everyone knows how much I’ve had. If I’m on whiskey and soda, I can add more soda and ice and no one’s any the wiser. I can stay sober while everyone else drinks themselves stupid.’
‘Vodka and tonic would make more sense. There’s no colour to show how weak it is.’
‘Okay, but I like the taste of Jameson’s,’ admitted Shepherd. ‘You’ll find most of the undercover guys stick to spirits and mixers.’
‘You like undercover work?’
‘You couldn’t do it if you didn’t,’ said Shepherd.
‘What do you like? The challenge?’
‘Sure. You’re putting yourself up against some very heavy guys. One false move and it’s all over.’
‘That must be scary at times.’
‘Challenging.’
Stockmann smiled but said nothing.
‘You don’t take notes,’ said Shepherd.
‘I’ve got a good memory,’ she said. ‘Something we have in common.’
‘Photographic?’
‘I wish,’ she said. ‘But I can remember conversations almost verbatim. And I’m good with facts. And vocabulary. I speak five languages almost fluently.’
‘I envy you that. I’m bad at languages. My memory’s infallible with facts, faces and events, but I can’t process information the way you have to if you want to speak a foreign language.’
‘We’ve something else in common. I have a son called Liam, too.’
Shepherd raised his glass to her. ‘Great name,’ he said.
‘My husband thought so,’ said Stockmann. ‘And we’ve a daughter. Rebecca.’
‘Kids are what it’s all about,’ said Shepherd.
‘Your boy must make your life complicated.’
‘That’s one way of putting it.’ Shepherd laughed. ‘He’s ten so most of the time he still does as he’s told, but I’m dreading his teens.’
‘Being a one-parent family can’t be easy at the best of times, but the pressures of your job must make it even more difficult.’
Shepherd shrugged. ‘I have an au pair, and we’re moving closer to my in-laws, Liam’s grandparents.’
‘You’re leaving Ealing?’
‘The house is under offer,’ said Shepherd, ‘and there’s a place in Hereford we’re interested in.’
‘Bereavement, divorce and moving house are the three most stressful events in anyone’s life. That’s what they say.’
‘Yeah, well, only someone who’s never been shot would say that,’ said Shepherd.
‘You’ve been shot?’
‘Isn’t it in my file?’ asked Shepherd.
‘I didn’t see it,’ said Stockmann. ‘What happened?’
‘It was when I was in the SAS,’ said Shepherd. ‘Afghanistan. A sniper got me in the shoulder.’
‘Ouch,’ said Stockmann.
‘It was a bit more than ouch,’ said Shepherd. ‘If I hadn’t been helicoptered out, I might not have made it.’
‘That’s not why you left the SAS, though, is it?’
‘Nah. I was back on duty two months later. I left the Regiment when my wife fell pregnant. She thought I should spend more time at home.’ He snorted. ‘That’s not how it worked out, though. I was probably away more as a cop than I was when I was with the Regiment.’
‘Out of the frying-pan into the fire?’
‘Exactly how she put it,’ said Shepherd. ‘Though Sue was a bit more expressive.’
‘More adjectives?’
‘A lot more.’
She raised her glass and winked. ‘I do like a good pint.’ She took a sip and put the glass down in front of her. ‘Kathy Gift was doing your biannuals for how long? Three years?’
‘Pretty much,’ said Shepherd. ‘Do you know her?’
‘We met a couple of times to go over her cases.’
‘Is that what I am? A case?’
Stockmann smiled, and Shepherd forced himself to relax. Or at least to appear relaxed – he could never really
