now she was the one pressing for a face-to-face.
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘That works for me.’
‘Tomorrow?’
‘Morning should be okay.’ Shepherd did a quick calculation in his head. He could get to Manchester in four hours, but getting back to Leman Street for two o’clock would be a taller order. A helicopter would be the fastest way, but even Major Gannon would draw the line at Shepherd using the SAS as his personal taxi service. If he drove he’d have to leave Manchester at ten to stand a chance of getting to Leman Street in time for his shift. He’d have to talk to Hargrove and see if they could come up with a suitable reason for him being late on his second day with the unit. ‘How about early?’
‘Nine? Same place as before? The supermarket?’
‘Okay,’ said Shepherd.
‘And you won’t do anything before then, will you?’
‘As soon as I’m ready to move I’ll let you know. That way you can get your alibi sorted. Anyway, like I said, this isn’t a conversation for the phone.’ Shepherd cut the connection and phoned Hargrove.
‘I hear you’ve had a busy day,’ said the superintendent.
‘It’s helped me bond, that’s for sure,’ said Shepherd. ‘Angie Kerr’s been in touch. She wants a meet and I’ve fixed up for tomorrow at nine. The supermarket car park again.’
‘She wanted the meet?’
‘Said she wanted to give me some info about his movements.’
‘That’s perfect. We’ll have the Volvo wired again, get her on video handing you the info then bust you both. She gets taken to the nick and you go back to SO19.’
‘I’m going to need a reason for getting to Leman Street late. Medical, maybe. Can you fix it up?’
‘I’ll take care of it. What’s your plan now?’
‘I’m off for some more bonding with the guys, then I’ll drive up to Manchester. The flat’s still free, isn’t it?’
‘Sure.’
‘I’ll catch a few hours’ kip there. Just hope tomorrow’s a quiet shift.’
Shepherd put away the phone and walked to the pub. He heard booming laughter and clinking glasses as he went into the main bar. He wasn’t proud of what he was doing: he was lying to fellow cops, and that made him feel sick. There was a good chance that Keith Rose was bad, but he had no way of knowing who was helping him, which meant he had to lie to everyone. He forced himself to smile. He was Stuart Marsden and he was among friends.
Ken Swift was standing at the bar surrounded by half a dozen men from Amber team. Rose was in a booth with Sutherland, the two men deep in conversation. The sergeant looked up as Shepherd walked in and raised his glass in salute. Shepherd nodded and headed for the bar.
Ken Swift had bought a round and ordered lager for Shepherd. ‘Nice work, Stu,’ he said. ‘You done that falling-through-the-ceiling trick before?’
‘I’ve abseiled, but never gone through a ceiling.’
The inspector introduced Shepherd to Amber team. Shepherd shook hands with them all, committing to memory the names and faces he hadn’t already memorised from Hargrove’s files. They were all easy in each other’s company, men who had worked and drunk together for months, if not years, but they made sure he felt at home, including him in their conversation and jokes. They were a good mix: a couple were older than Shepherd, the old hands of the team, but the rest were about his age or younger. They all worshipped Swift, deferring to him whenever he spoke, watching him even while they were joking and knocking back their pints. Ramshaw and Tapping came in together. Everyone cheered Tapping and Shepherd took the opportunity to buy a round, dumping his first pint in the process. With the drive to Manchester ahead, he didn’t want to drink more than a few mouthfuls.
He stood with Amber team for half an hour, but kept a watchful eye on Rose and Sutherland. The two men were still deep in conversation, Rose doing most of the talking and Sutherland nodding.
Swift came to stand next to Shepherd. ‘How are you getting on with Rosie?’ he asked.
‘So far, so good,’ said Shepherd.
‘What about the map work? Must be a lot harder than Glasgow.’
‘No problems,’ said Shepherd.
‘You ever use the rifle?’
‘Not really,’ said Shepherd. ‘I never liked the long-distance stuff. Always seems too impersonal.’
‘A good sniper can take out a problem without putting lives at risk,’ said Swift.
‘No argument there,’ said Shepherd. ‘I just prefer to be up close and personal, that’s all. Why do you ask?’
‘One of our snipers has just made sergeant and he’ll be moving from SO19. I’m looking for someone to fill the slot.’
Shepherd took a sip of his pint. The last thing he needed was to be moved from the ARV. ‘I prefer to be on the ground,’ he said.
‘Yeah, but you get all the false alarms as well. The Specialist Firearms teams only get called out for the big stuff.’
‘Horses for courses,’ said Shepherd.
Rose came over to the group by the bar and put his arm round Swift. ‘Don’t let this guy talk you into joining Amber,’ he said to Shepherd. ‘You’d hate it, driving around in a furniture van, turning up late.’
‘Don’t listen to him. It’s his lack of ambition that’s kept him a sergeant all these years,’ said Swift.
‘I didn’t kiss the right arses, is what he means,’ said Rose. He ordered a round. Shepherd took the opportunity to slip his three-quarters full glass on to the bar.
‘There’s a lot to be said for military training,’ said Swift. ‘Maybe we should be recruiting more ex-army guys.’
‘Were you army?’ asked Shepherd, although he knew that Swift had never been in the armed forces. His file had been on Hargrove’s CD.
‘Nah, I was a fireman, way back when. Got fed up with climbing ladders. I was at Hendon the same time as Rosie here. A few years older and a lot better-looking.’
‘That’s why you’ve been divorced three times, I suppose,’ said Rose.
‘The grass is always greener,’ said Swift. ‘That’s been my problem.’
‘You married now?’ asked Shepherd. The file had said Swift was being sued for divorce by his third wife.
‘Just about to get loose from wife number three,’ said Swift. ‘Good riddance. What about you? Bitten the bullet?’
Shepherd grinned. ‘I’ll give it a few years before I settle down.’
‘Wish I’d done that,’ said Swift. ‘My first wife got her claws into me when I was eighteen. Dragged me kicking and screaming down the aisle a year later. Still, we had three good years.’
‘You got divorced after just three years?’
‘Nah,’ said Swift. ‘The three good years were followed by five hellish ones. Then she divorced me.’
Rose groaned. Clearly it was a joke he’d heard many times before.
Sutherland was sitting on his own now, legs stretched out, staring up at the ceiling with his beer glass balanced on his stomach. Shepherd walked over and sat down next to him. ‘All right, Mike?’ he said, clinking his glass against Sutherland’s.
‘Ace,’ said Sutherland, sitting up. ‘One hell of a day. Like Rosie said, you might be a Jonah. You can go a week without a big one breaking and you get two in one day.’
‘You’d rather spend all day dealing with false alarms? Kids with airguns and robbers with cucumbers in brown-paper bags?’
‘Oh, Christ, an adrenaline junkie.’ Sutherland groaned. ‘Just what we need.’
‘We’re trained to deal with armed criminals,’ said Shepherd. ‘Anything else is a waste of our time.’ He stretched out his legs. ‘I’ll sleep well tonight,’ he said. ‘Damn near broke my hip dropping through that ceiling.’
Tapping was being toasted noisily by Swift and half a dozen members of Amber team. ‘It’s Kev I feel sorry for,’ said Sutherland. ‘That’s him off firearms duties until the shooting’s investigated.’
