Chapter 14
22nd July
He parked the car up in the Farralland yard, nodded to two of the blokes who were sheltering from the rain under a canopy and briskly crossed the road. In the office, he shook his coat and hung it up on the shared stand.
"The kettle's just boiled," Winston informed him, passing him a cup. "Mind topping me up from the pot, I like it a bit stewed."
Gallagher glanced at the photograph on the desk as he took the offering. "That your dog, Winston? Looks a nice little fella."
His colleague chuckled. "No, wish it was. It's Pickles."
He knew it was supposed to mean something to him but it didn't. Winston picked up on the facial expression. "You know? It's the dog that found the World Cup when it got nicked."
"Oh! Yeah, I recognise it now. It was his grin that threw me. Do you want milk and sugar in this?"
Sandy entered and rummaged around on his desk then looked up. "Morning Gally. I nearly forgot. Reg is looking for you."
Mug in hand, he found Reg manoeuvring a filing cabinet away from the wall.
"You moving house, Reg?"
"Nah! I dropped a file down the back. Do me a favour, you're a big strapping lad, hold this while I get it back out."
Done, he sat down and sipped his tea. "Is that all you wanted me for, Reg, or was there something else?"
Reg pulled bits of fluff off the file he retrieved then put it back on top of the cabinets. "Something else. Clive and I made a bit of headway yesterday so I wanted to update you. The Old Man already knows. He's going to his club later on to do some liaison."
"So, what have you got?"
He passed him two files in buff folders from a tray on the table. "These are the most significant cryptologists we've found. Take these two off the game board and they reckon it would set the project back quite a way. There's talk, as well, of the possibility of one of them being loaned to the Americans so it's even more essential we don't lose whoever doesn't go."
"You know, Reg, what gets me is that one way or another they're going to come up with this new code and its associated communication system so why doesn't the Warsaw Pact just put up with it, gives them more time to break it?"
Reg smiled. "A bit too simplistic, Gally. It's quite obvious in some quarters that they're able to read our existing stuff. What exactly, no one is entirely sure. In fact, if they hadn't started this caper we might not have realised for quite a while. Have you read Catch 22?"
Gally nodded. "I have actually. I wouldn't have thought it would be on your reading list?"
Reg laughed. "You are a cocky little sod sometimes, Gally. I have an eclectic taste in books, I'll have you know." He got up and put the kettle on. "Well, that's it. Catch 22 for them was, in order to keep reading our code they needed to delay the introduction of a new one but in doing so they recognised they might alert us to the facts but by doing nothing, they'd soon be shut out from vital intelligence."
Gallagher mulled it over then flicked through the files whilst Reg made himself a brew and sat down.
"Where's Clive then?"
Reg opened a new packet of biscuits and began munching on one. Eventually, "I sent him out to interview staff members, get us a better insight, particularly into these two, Petterson and Reddington- Taylour. We want to be sure we haven't missed anything and although my files are good I think we're missing some fine detail that could be useful. What have you been up to anyway? What happened at Eddlestone's?"
Gally sat back and put his feet on the spare chair. "Not much but I think I've solved it. You were right, Reg, it wasn't part of the mainstream. When they take a closer look, I think they'll find Timothy Eddlestone's mate, old Jeremy Copeland, the finance director, has been helping himself from the 'pot'. Tim somehow found out, threatened to tell someone, Jerry panicked and things went from bloody awkward to fucking ghastly. It's a theory anyway, and the bonus is the local lads are looking into it, safe in the knowledge that as soon as they lock Copeland up Special Branch will swoop in and take it off their hands. Result all round, I think. We've binned it, the police get the detection and the local SB get to feel important."
He finished his tea and stood up. "Of course all that could turn out to be a load of old bollocks but I do know this. It's not part of what we're looking at." He waved the buff folders. "Can I take these with me for a bit of light reading before I write my report up?"
After a lunch of two Wimpy burgers sat at his desk, he returned the folders to Reg and plonked himself on the edge of Sandy's, explaining his thoughts from the night before.
"So what do you think? Would you drive me out there? I've already spoken to the constable who gave her a visit last time and he's willing to go round again, on the pretext of updating her with the result of the crime report. I don't want to take my motor because if she is the woman I saw she'll definitely suss it. I think if I saw her in person I'd be able to say whether it was her or not, despite the change in hair colour which I have to admit has thrown me once or twice in the past with embarrassing results."
Sandy looked at him quizzically.
Gally waved him off. "Oh, it's nothing really. Just at least once I almost chatted up a bird I'd been trying to avoid."
His colleague smiled. "Doesn't sound very promising. Yeah, I can do that. Give me half an hour.”