“Nah, that’s not it. Not Fox, another name, unless you changed it.”
“I think you’re mistaken, Mr – ”
“Just call me Mac, everyone does. Nah, it’s definitely you.” The boy gurgled and slapped at his shaved head as if trying to knock sense into himself. “I always seen you around, all my life. You was in Camley Street Park one time. I was with my mates havin’ a smoke an’ that. You was – Ah.” Mac suddenly remembered, and even he knew it was better to quickly forget what he had seen.
“What do you do, Mac?” asked Mr Fox, walking with him, leading him from the station.
“This an’ that. I make ends meet, shift a bit of stuff here and there. The usual, you know.”
Mr Fox knew all too well. He moved the boy aside as a pair of armed police constables in acid-yellow jackets walked past. King’s Cross had radically changed since becoming the target of terrorist attacks. He checked their epaulettes for area codes and saw that they were locals.
“How long have you been out of Pentonville?”
“How d’you know I was inside?” The boy looked amazed.
Mr Fox had spotted the tattoos that edged out beyond Mac’s sleeves. The inmates at Pentonville prison were fond of inking themselves with fake Russian gang symbols, most of them poorly copied and misspelled. The one on Mac’s right forearm was actually a produce stamp for a Soviet state farm. If the boy knew he was advertising turnips instead of hanging tough, it might be the end of their association before it began.
“Wait a minute, that’s where I seen you,” said Mac. “You was my English teacher, you used to come and teach at Pentonville.”
Mr Fox studied his prey, deciding whether to let the identification stand.
“One day you just stopped coming. What did you give it up for?”
“The doors,” he admitted.
“What do you mean?”
“The seventeen security doors I had to pass through every morning and evening. They added an hour and a half on my journey.” He did not mention the lockdowns, those days when the alarm rang and no-one was allowed in or out. Six or seven hours at a time spent doing nothing, shut in a stale blank room like one of the inmates. He didn’t mention the smell that got into your clothes and made you dread each working day. Mr Fox was determined to stay out of prison because he had witnessed its horrors from close quarters.
“How would you like to earn some easy money?” he asked.
Mac’s eyes shone, then dimmed. You could see exactly what he was thinking. “I don’t do queer stuff no more. I mean, no offence an’ that.”
“Don’t worry, it’s just some simple errands. To meet someone, relay some messages. Maybe deliver something back to them.”
“It ain’t drugs, is it, ‘cause I’m on probation.”
“Nothing like that. It’s completely legitimate, I assure you. Just a local job. I need someone trustworthy.”
“I don’t let people down.”
“I’ll need you to be around here tomorrow evening. Give me your address and mobile number. I have to be able to get in touch with you easily. Tell me, do you drive?”
“I got a van.”
“Unmarked, is it?”
“Well, it’s white.”
“We may need to use it at some point. If you do well with this, there could be more work for you.”
“Yeah, then, I reckon I could do something like that. You know, for the right price.”
As soon as Mr Fox had received the phone call, he had realised he was about to move into the big time. All he needed to do now was remember his own rules:
Mr Fox felt sure that, despite his age and background, he was moving up, destined to operate in grander circles.
He did not know it, but within twenty-four hours he would be wiping a dead man’s blood from his hands.
? Bryant & May on the Loose ?
3
Shutdown
END OF THE LINE FOR LONDON’S OLDEST SPECIALIST UNIT
After many threats on its life, London’s most notorious and controversial crime unit has finally been shut down.
From this month, the main goal of the National Policing Improvement Agency will be to modernise the British police service, taking on some Home Office and ACPO functions, including officer training, national IT infrastructure, forensics and information sharing. As part of the drive to eliminate duplication, the Home Office has closed London’s longstanding Peculiar Crimes Unit, returning its ongoing investigations to the capital’s homicide and major enquiry teams.
The PCU was created to handle specialised cases and crimes (mostly homicides) which could be considered a risk to public order and confidence if left unresolved. The unit survived through the second half of the twentieth century, but found itself increasingly mired in controversy after being placed under the control of the Home Office, who accused its management team of becoming politically partisan and failing to follow accepted procedural guidelines.
Although the PCU’s two most senior detectives were never formally charged with misconduct, their reputations were irreparably tarnished by behaviour which many in government circles considered to be anti- establishment and subversive. Police chiefs had long been concerned about the unit’s repeated failure to conform to government guidelines. It is understood that the Home Office is considering pursuing a number of allegations against Arthur Bryant and John May, including:
The unauthorised release of fourteen illegal immigrants, who subsequently evaded detention and deportation from the UK.
The destruction of government property, including the PCU’s own offices in Mornington Crescent.
The contamination and misuse of evidence in criminal investigations.
Illegal hiring practices, including the commissioning of freelancers specialising in ‘alternative’ practices such as psychic investigation, dowsing and (on more than one occasion) witchcraft.
Blackmailing an unnamed senior employee at the Home Office.
Interfering with a member of the royal family.
The premeditated release of potentially hazardous chemicals inside a Ministry of Defence outsource agency, in order to discredit it.
Both senior detectives are to face a disciplinary panel. Meanwhile, the remaining members of the PCU staff have been placed on permanent gardening leave, and their old offices at Mornington Crescent have been turned over to the government’s newly formed Electronic Fraud Agency.
“The Home Office seems determined that our unit should not be rehoused,” says the temporary acting chief of the PCU, Raymond Land. “I have asked for the matter to be urgently resolved, but it seems that no-one is willing to discuss the possibility with me, or can even be bothered to return my phone calls.”
When asked to comment on the charge, the HO’s Security Supervisor Oskar Kasavian explained, “The Peculiar
