Taylor is incredulous. Connor uncomfortable. Montgomery contemptuous.
'You're fucking kidding me?' barks Taylor.
Connor has been getting gradually weaker as the months have gone by, as the Plague of Crows has turned his great opportunity into the dead weight that will sink him. He will call it his bane, Connor's Bane, when he writes his memoirs. The memoir that no one will want to read or, indeed, publish.
'Chief Inspector,' he says, although as words of admonition they are bound to receive no respect.
'What's the point in these stupid bracelets,' says Taylor, dismissively holding up his wrist, 'if we don't follow up when there's an identifiable issue? He's missing. The sergeant is missing. Why are we here? Why did the department spend God knows how much money if we're just going to ignore it when it happens?'
Connor glances at Montgomery. Montgomery looks dismissive of Taylor, although he has little more respect for Connor as he can see he wants him to argue his case for him.
'It's not the fact that there's a rogue bracelet, or there's potential for something to have happened to a police officer,' says Montgomery. 'It's the officer in question that's the issue.'
'Aw, come on to…'
'Chief Inspector, by all account your sergeant has been going off the rails the last couple of months. Regularly late for work. Two weeks ago he missed an entire day after a night when he was seen pouring into a taxi, completely out of his face on vodka. He's sleeping around the station like he's on some demented bender of sexual destruction. And this despite being suspended last year for inappropriate sexual behaviour.'
'During none of which,' says Taylor, 'did he remove his bracelet or actually go missing.'
'It's not too great a logical progression to imagine him taking it a step further and wanting some peace and quiet. He's probably sleeping with someone else he shouldn't be, and doesn't want to be traced to their house.'
Taylor rages. Closes his eyes. Could take two steps over there and land a punch on the fucker. And not some pointless, painful blow to the jaw. A punch to the neck, just under the chin. Let's see the bastard get up from that.
Part of Taylor's annoyance, of course, comes from the fact that he knows Montgomery might be right. It is odd that Hutton has just vanished, and he really cannot explain how he would have removed the bracelet without damaging it. Nevertheless, it would be in keeping with how it's been going with him. They hadn't been talking about it, but clearly the Plague of Crows business, something about it, something intrinsic at the heart of the case, had got under Hutton's skin.
'Have you checked what
He looks coldly at Taylor, knowing full well that Taylor had been divorced in the past year, his wife leaving for a younger model.
Taylor looks at Connor, ignores Montgomery. It's the only way to deal with him, punching in the throat being off the agenda.
'Sir,' he says, reigning back the tone, 'can you explain to me how he got the bracelet off?'
Connor stares across the desk. He doesn't look at Montgomery, as he has fallen so far back into the pits of insecurity that he can't stand to be undermined any further.
'I don't know,' he says. 'Butter?'
Taylor stares disdainfully across the desk. Look at the bracelet, he thinks. Look at your stupid, fucking bracelet you pathetic, ignorant fuck. It's tight around your wrist. Butter, for crying out loud.
'Chief Inspector,' says Montgomery, 'let's be realistic here. It's not just the unreliable habits of your sergeant that are the question. I know if the Plague of Crows returns, chances are he will take out one police officer as part of his ritual, and it's always possible that that one police officer could be from this station. However, it seems highly coincidental, highly coincidental, that it should be one of the previous investigating officers. If he wanted to make a point then surely he would have taken one of my men, one of the men who are actually involved in the case at this time. This… doesn't make sense. It doesn't make sense for the Plague of Crows to take Sgt Hutton. That the sergeant has gone somewhere he knows he shouldn't, that quite possibly he's with someone that he knows he shouldn't be, is far more likely.'
He stares at Taylor. Taylor has looked at Connor throughout. Connor sits uncomfortably looking at Montgomery.
'There's no place for talk of coincidence in police work,' says Montgomery.
'Coincidence?' barks Taylor. 'Two months ago we had the Sergeant in front of the cameras, taunting the guy, trying to draw him out. This could be it. This could be the drawing out. And what are we doing to handle that?'
He looks between the two of them.
'Maybe two months ago,' said Connor. 'But he's tipped too far over the edge now for anyone to trust him.'
'Jesus,' mutters Taylor. He stands quickly. Hesitates. Sits back down. Addresses Connor, although realistically he knows that he's speaking to Montgomery.
'On the obviously farcical off-chance that Sgt Hutton has been taken by the Plague of Crows, would it be possible for you to ask G4S to run a check to make sure that all the social services staff currently covered by the security check are accounted for?'
Connor knows that this is not within his remit. He has power over a small section of south-west Glasgow, and not much power at that. He looks to Montgomery.
'Chief Inspector, do you know how many false alarms there have been in the past two months?' says Montgomery.
He pauses. Taylor again contemplates walking out, but knows that it will look churlish.
'Oh, G4S are happy to do it when we ask, but you know how much it costs? How much it costs the police every time we ask them to make a 100 % check?'
'Isn't that part of the contract?' says Taylor. 'Didn't someone think to make that part of the contract? That they would check when we asked? What, in the name of God, is the point of this thing if we have to pay them every time we ask a question?'
'We can ask questions, Chief Inspector, but we are required to provide extra funding for 100 % checks. That's the contract as it stands.'
'Jesus Christ…'
'I doubt either of us has experience of writing a government contract, so let's not get into that.'
'So the system is set up in such a away that it discourages us from using it?'
'If you want to be jaundiced about it…'
'A police officer is missing under peculiar circumstances…' says Taylor harshly.
'Not just any policeman,' says Montgomery. 'A wayward officer. An officer out of control. A maverick.'
Oh, for fuck's sake, thinks Taylor. He didn't just use the word maverick, did he? Jesus.
'Prove to me that Sgt Hutton is not just out sleeping with someone's wife or some prostitute or some wanton… trash of a PC, then I'll take your request higher up the chain and see…'
Connor lets the sentence drift off as Taylor gets up quickly and walks from the room, slamming the door behind him.
*
Door shut, he's alone with Gostkowski. Hutton's security band is on his desk between them. It dominates the room.
'They think I'm over-reacting. I don't need to know the full details, Inspector, I'm just looking for an opinion. This doesn't make sense. Hutton's band lying here without him attached to it, doesn't make sense. Montgomery thinks he's taken it off so that he can go out… shagging. Or that he's on the piss somewhere. I don't think so. For all that he's a fucked-up sonofabitch, this isn't him. He would know what taking this off would mean, he would know that removing it, and it being found, would get people panicking. Although, Jesus, that only appears to be me…'
'I agree.'
He exhales, aware that he's getting slightly breathless in his annoyance and excitement, his feeling of dread.
'The sergeant and I had a brief fling, just a few nights,' she says. 'I'm one of them, one of the long list that
