“That’s okay, I haven’t needed anyone to hold my hand since junior school,” Jack said.
Holland swilled his cup for a few seconds, and then drank more coffee. “I’m not trying to mollycoddle you; I’m just making sure you have the support structure you need to run a Cat A investigation”
“Is that what this is now?”
“I suspect it will be before the day is out.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll call you if I need anything,” Jack assured him.
“You’ll call me immediately if anything significant happens. I don’t want to find myself in a position where the AC asks me what’s happening and I don’t know. If nothing too exciting happens during the day I still want a call at home tonight giving me a general update.”
“Yes, sir,” Jack said, obediently.
Holland smiled at the pained expression on Jack’s face. “You’re going to get a lot of unwanted attention with this case, Jack. It goes with the territory, so get used to it. On the bright side, powerful people are watching. Get this one right and it will do wonders for your career.”
What he means, Tyler thought, is get it wrong and I’m fucked.
“We need to crack this one quickly, Jack, so I would appreciate some good news next time we speak.”
It was an unrealistic request and Jack was tempted to tell him so, but there was no point. Shit cascades downward; Holland was only passing on the demands from above. Besides, complaining would only make him look weak, so Tyler simply nodded and said he would do his best.
They moved onto staffing issues; Jack pointed out that his team was drastically under strength and would need considerable bolstering if they were to do justice to the enquiry. Holland raised a hand to silence the protest. “Jack, everyone’s in the same boat. We’ve been fielding scratch teams across London all year long. If it’s any consolation I’ve already found you some extra people to make the numbers up.”
Jack waved this aside impatiently. “It’s not just about numbers; it’s about having the right blend of skill and experience.”
Holland’s face darkened. “I’m not blind to that Jack, but sometimes you just have to do the best job you can with the tools at your disposal.” He handed a sheet of paper over.
“Here’s a list of the personnel you’ll be getting. Every AMIP team will supply two DCs, except Andy Quinlan’s. As you know they took a new job at the same time as you, so Andy can only spare one, a chap called DC Murray. You’re getting an extra ten people in total, which should be more than enough. Most of them have been warned to parade in your office at eight, but a couple can’t make it till mid-morning. It’s all on that sheet. “Right, I’ll let you crack on.” Holland gulped down the last of his coffee and nodded at the door, indicating the meeting was over.
◆◆◆
Tyler was not in a good mood when he made his way back upstairs. This case was going to be hard enough to crack without Holland and the AC putting undue pressure on him. The staffing situation hadn’t been resolved to his satisfaction either. He’d been hoping to cherry-pick half a dozen names from the other teams, but instead, he’d had to settle for whoever the various DCIs could spare. They were unlikely to release their best assets, but hopefully, none of them would be quite as useless as that plonker, Murray.
There were an extra seven people in the office by the time he returned; he recognised a couple, although most were unknown to him. He signalled for Bull to call the office meeting to order and nipped into his office to collect his notes.
Dillon sidled up next to him as he came out of his office. “What about that wanker?” He indicated Murray with his chin. “Shall I tell him to piss off?”
Jack winced. “I’ve got some bad news on that front,” he said.
Dillon looked as though he had developed indigestion. “Oh no, you’re not going to say what I think you are – are you?”
“Sorry, Dill,” Jack said, handing him the list of names he’d been given downstairs. “DCS Holland has sorted us some assistance from the other teams.”
“And he’s on it?”
“And he’s on it, unfortunately.”
◆◆◆
“First things first,” Tyler began. He was sitting with his back to the tea urn, just to the side of the main door, and everyone else had gathered into a semi-circle around him.
“This is going to be a bit of a scratch team; the core roles will be performed by my staff, but we have back up from other teams and a couple of lads from the host division. DS Deakin from team six will be covering the Office Manager’s post until Matt Blake returns.” Blake, his regular OM, was currently bumming around Australia and New Zealand on a three-month career break. Chris Deakin raised a hand to let everyone know who he was. “Be patient with me,” he said. “I’ve done the course but I’ve never performed the role outside of a classroom.” Tyler was distinctly pissed off to hear that. He didn’t want his Major Incident Room run by a rookie; he needed someone who could hit the ground running. No disrespect to Chris Deakin, but as the person responsible for ensuring the MIR ran smoothly, the OM was one of the most important people on a major enquiry. This was hardly the time to blood a novice. What was Holland playing at?
“To assist Chris, I’ve got to nominate a receiver to cover for Todd Dervish, who’s still off with a broken ankle.” Dervish had injured himself at an artificial ski slope three weeks back. Ironically, his wife had booked him four ‘beginners’ lessons in preparation for
