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31st March 2014
The woman stepped out of the lift. When the doors closed, leaving Thurstan alone, he took the opportunity to check his tongue in the mirror then brushed his hair with his hand and inspected his eyeballs. He stepped back for the big picture and thought he detected some thinning of his hair at the front. Overall, he decided he looked pretty good for his age. His hair was greying a little though. Wondering how he would describe it, he settled for distinguished. Nope, all in all, he was doing ok even if he needed to lose a few pounds from what he imagined was a paunch. Maybe he’d cut back a bit on the whiskies.
He felt the lift slowing and turned swiftly, straightening his jacket and adjusting his tie. The doors hissed open and Thurstan stepped out of the lift to find a worried DS waiting for him.
“I’m glad I caught you, Boss.” Degsy’s relief was tangible. “We can’t access yesterday’s job on the system. All of us are locked out.”
He would have said more, but he was interrupted. “The system will have just crashed or something, Derek. It’s not a problem.” Thurstan tried to reassure him and encouraged him to ‘walk and talk’ with a hand on his shoulder.
Degsy wasn’t having it. “No, it’s not that simple, Boss,” he insisted. “We’re definitely locked out and there’s a Superintendent from SB in your office with a couple of suits. Judging from the testosterone levels in there, I’d say they were the secret squirrel squad.”
Thurstan stood silent for a moment then said: “Ok. Can we still get into the MacMahon job?”
“I don’t know, Boss. I never asked anyone.” He was apologetic but also annoyed with himself for not having checked.
“Right, go and get someone to do that now and don’t make it obvious. I’ll waste a couple of minutes then I’ll make an appearance.” Thurstan turned back to the lift and pressed the call button. The doors opened almost immediately and the sole occupant, a uniformed Policewoman, said: “Going up?” He nodded. “Why not.”
Several minutes later, he made his entrance. As he signed in, Arthur sidled up to him and murmured: “I think there’s an ambush waiting for you in your office.” The DCI looked across the room and saw the SB Superintendent sat in his swivel chair whilst the two ‘suits’ amused themselves, one idly inspecting the memorabilia Thurstan kept on his filing cabinet, the other picking imaginary fluff from his lapels. He smiled and said: “So I see. What great joy.” He walked away but then turned and called back, “Oh, and if you see Derek tell him to come and see me please, Arthur.”
As he entered his office, the SB Superintendent nonchalantly got up from Thurstan’s chair and, smiling in a sickly manner, said: “Ah, Detective Chief Inspector! So nice to see you’ve been able to get here.”
“Superintendent,” Thurstan replied, reservedly.
“It’s Acting Chief Superintendent, actually,” the SB man said as he inspected the fingernails on his left hand. Satisfied, he looked up. “But let’s not dwell on that. I have some good news for you, but first, let me introduce my two colleagues. They’re from the Security Service.”
They didn’t like each other and never had. Thurstan thought the Superintendent was a climber of the ‘greasy pole’ who had been promoted beyond his own mediocrity, over the heads of some far more capable and worthy people. For his part, the Superintendent thought Thurstan was a sanctimonious little shit.
Thurstan extended his hand to the nearest suit and said, “And you are?” The suit ignored the gesture and replied quietly. “Our names are of no consequence, Detective Chief Inspector. We’re here to collect all your documentation and evidence, forensic or otherwise, concerning yesterday’s unfortunate murder.”
Thurstan withdrew his hand and looked back at the SB man. “And the good news is?”
“That is the good news,” the SB man replied. “The matter is now being investigated by Special Branch.” He waved a gracious hand towards the suits. “Under, of course, the direction of the Security Service. Matters of National Security are involved and that’s all you need to know. You should be pleased. Reduces your workload at this very busy time.” The sickly smile again before he continued. “Have your people box it all up. There’s a couple of my people coming to help take it downstairs. Oh, and I think you’re probably already aware that access on the system has been restricted to SB only.” Another smile. It was a smile of triumph. “We’ll wait here.” He sat down in Thurstan’s chair and added with false pleasantry: “If you don’t mind.”
Thurstan was about to mind very much when Degsy appeared in the doorway. “Did you want to see me, Boss?”
He held his tongue, smiled pleasantly and, with a hint of sarcasm, said: “Yes, Derek. We’ll speak more later, but for now, have some of ‘our people’ box up everything we have on the Councillor’s murder and take it down to the SB offices. SB will be sending some of ‘their people’ up to assist.”
“OK, Boss, I’ll get it sorted.” He half-turned to walk away but stopped and said: “Oh, and that other matter we spoke about? It’s fine now.”
Thurstan waited for Degsy to disappear back into the main office and was about to tell the SB Superintendent what he thought of his idea of where they should wait when his work mobile rang.
“Excuse me, I need to answer this,” he said with as gracious a smile as his inner fuming would permit. “DCI Baddeley.”
“Hello, Boss, it’s Taffy. We’ve found an interesting CCTV. Well, two to be exact. One from a house on South Drive, just around the corner, as it were, from the scene, and the other in a little pizza kebab place at the end of Grove Street and Wavertree High Street. Just wanted to let you know we’ll be bringing them in shortly.”
Thurstan’s brain was now racing, all thought of verbal revenge gone. If he left the office to continue the conversation, it might look suspicious. But if he stayed he needed to manage it cleverly and, he hoped, with style.
“I’ll have an egg mayonnaise, Taff,” he found himself blurting out, “and if they haven’t got that, I’ll have tuna.” He took the phone from his ear and shook his head dolefully at his audience. “I knew I shouldn’t have sent a Welshman,” he told them before speaking into the phone again. “Ok, listen carefully, Taffy. You stay where you are and I’ll come down and sort it out myself.” With that, he cancelled the call, turned to the uninterested suits and his SB temporary nemesis and said: “Well, you seem to have this all under control. Make yourselves comfortable, won’t you? I may see you later but I really have to go and sort out my lunch. If you need anything else speak to DS Drayton.” And with that, he turned on his heels and left.
As he made his way out through the main office he caught Degsy’s arm and hissed, “Give them anything they need. Try and keep them occupied and away from the windows and get them out of here as soon as you can. I have to go. You can get me on my mobile.” Then he was gone.
Once out of the lift on the ground floor he called Taffy’s mobile, striding out into the parking area. By the time the call was answered, he’d already started his car.
“DC Blevins,” Taffy said as he swallowed the last mouthful of his chicken kebab.
“Taffy, it’s the Boss. Sorry about that before. I’ll explain later. Where are you now?”
“We’re on the High Street just near to Grove Street, Boss,” Taffy replied.
“Are you eating?” Thurstan queried. “Are you in Sperry’s?”
“Well, as it happens ... yes,” Taffy reluctantly admitted, “but this is where we’ve got one of the CCTVs from, Boss, so I just thought, you know, seeing as we’re here...”
“I’m not interested in that, Taff. Just stay there,” Thurstan interrupted him, then as an afterthought, he added, “Are you parked on the double yellows?”
“Well –”
“You bloody are, aren’t you!” Thurstan interrupted again. “For goodness sake, don’t get a ticket. I’ll be with you in 10 to15 minutes and don’t speak to anyone at the Office.” He hung up as he drove down the ramp and left Police HQ.