running, aren’t you?’
‘I couldn’t possibly comment.’
Weariness dragged at Stephanie’s lips, thinning them and making her look much older. ‘I’m not doing this for fun, you know. I’ve been told the final decision is going to be between you and John Crayley, that the other two women on the list are only make-weights.’
‘Then you know a lot more than I do.’ Caro had to suppress an inappropriate bubble of satisfaction. ‘What’s this about, Stephanie?’
‘John. Of all the jobs in all the world, this is the last he should have.’
Caro suppressed a sigh. She assumed she was about to hear a typical Taft story of harassment and discrimination.
‘There’s no point telling me,’ she said crisply. ‘Even if you were right, there’s nothing I could do about it.’
‘You have to.’ Stephanie wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, as though trying to get rid of an unpleasant taste. ‘There’s no one else who can. He’s on the take.’
‘What?’
Stephanie lowered her voice so it was hard to hear against the hiss and clatter all around them. ‘The Slabbs have been paying him for years, both for information on upcoming operations and for making inconvenient evidence go away before any of them come up in court.’
Dizzy with shock, Caro saw a huge elephant trap opening up ahead of her. Every officer in the Metropolitan Police knew about the Slabbs, a long-established family based in South London, who were involved in precisely the kind of organised crime she most hated.
‘How do you know they’ve been paying him?’ she asked, hoping she sounded cool.
‘I can’t tell you that.’
‘Oh, come on. You must know I couldn’t do anything without hard evidence – or at the very least a signed statement from someone involved.’
‘Don’t you know what they do to informers?’ Stephanie’s pupils dilated, as though she was watching a horror film.
‘Of course I know. But there hasn’t been a bag-and-gag killing for years. The assumption is they’ve given up that kind of violence.’
‘It doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen again if they found someone had talked to us.’ Stephanie pushed away her water glass to make space for her elbows. Propping her chin on her clasped hands, she looked into Caro’s face. ‘Think about it. The process starts when they wire your hands behind your back, then they put a stick in your mouth like a horse’s bit; then—’
‘I know what they do.’ It was a long time since Caro had had nightmares about any of the cruelties she encountered, but she did not want to be reminded of any more details of the Slabbs’ notorious method of punishment killing.
‘Then you ought to know better than to expect someone to take on that kind of risk,’ Stephanie said, looking disappointed, as though she thought Caro should have a much more dramatic reaction. ‘Imagine what it would be like to have the stick forced between your teeth and know that the bag—’
‘Stop it, Stephanie.’
‘Don’t you ever think about how it would feel if you were the victim? I’ve heard it would take at least four minutes to die like that. You’d be unable to scream, unable to breathe, with the wire cutting into the sides of your face and the stick between your teeth.’
‘I don’t think about it. Nor should you. None of us could do the job properly if we thought too much about how victims suffer.’
Stephanie picked up her glass and took a mouthful of icy water. Caro saw she was shaking.
‘Maybe that’s why you’re an inspector on her way to the top and I’m still a humble constable,’ she said, making a visible effort to control herself. ‘I think about it all the time. And the
idea that John of all people …’ Her voice broke and she shook her head.
‘There’s nothing humble about you,’ Caro said, wanting to offer comfort, but still not sure where this was going. ‘Nor should there be. You do good work, and you take risks to fight for people who
‘I couldn’t possibly comment.’
Weariness dragged at Stephanie’s lips, thinning them and making her look much older. ‘I’m not doing this for fun, you know. I’ve been told the final decision is going to be between you and John Crayley, that the other two women on the list are only make-weights.’
‘Then you know a lot more than I do.’ Caro had to suppress an inappropriate bubble of satisfaction. ‘What’s this about, Stephanie?’
‘John. Of all the jobs in all the world, this is the last he should have.’
Caro suppressed a sigh. She assumed she was about to hear a typical Taft story of harassment and discrimination.
‘There’s no point telling me,’ she said crisply. ‘Even if you were right, there’s nothing I could do about it.’
‘You have to.’ Stephanie wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, as though trying to get rid of an unpleasant taste. ‘There’s no one else who can. He’s on the take.’
‘What?’
Stephanie lowered her voice so it was hard to hear against the hiss and clatter all around them. ‘The Slabbs have been paying him for years, both for information on upcoming operations and for making inconvenient evidence go away before any of them come up in court.’
Dizzy with shock, Caro saw a huge elephant trap opening up ahead of her. Every officer in the Metropolitan Police knew about the Slabbs, a long-established family based in South London, who were involved in precisely the kind of organised crime she most hated.
‘How do you know they’ve been paying him?’ she asked, hoping she sounded cool.
‘I can’t tell you that.’
‘Oh, come on. You must know I couldn’t do anything without hard evidence – or at the very least a signed statement from someone involved.’
‘Don’t you know what they do to informers?’ Stephanie’s pupils dilated, as though she was watching a horror film.
‘Of course I know. But there hasn’t been a bag-and-gag killing for years. The assumption is they’ve given up that kind of violence.’
‘It doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen again if they found someone had talked to us.’ Stephanie pushed away her water glass to make space for her elbows. Propping her chin on her clasped hands, she looked into Caro’s face. ‘Think about it. The process starts when they wire your hands behind your back, then they put a stick in your mouth like a horse’s bit; then—’
‘I know what they do.’ It was a long time since Caro had had nightmares about any of the cruelties she encountered, but she did not want to be reminded of any more details of the Slabbs’ notorious method of punishment killing.
‘Then you ought to know better than to expect someone to take on that kind of risk,’ Stephanie said, looking disappointed, as though she thought Caro should have a much more dramatic reaction. ‘Imagine what it would be like to have the stick forced between your teeth and know that the bag—’
‘Stop it, Stephanie.’
‘Don’t you ever think about how it would feel if you were the victim? I’ve heard it would take at least four minutes to die like that. You’d be unable to scream, unable to breathe, with the wire cutting into the sides of your face and the stick between your teeth.’
‘I don’t think about it. Nor should you. None of us could do the job properly if we thought too much about how victims suffer.’
Stephanie picked up her glass and took a mouthful of icy water. Caro saw she was shaking.
‘Maybe that’s why you’re an inspector on her way to the top and I’m still a humble constable,’ she said, making a visible effort to control herself. ‘I think about it all the time. And the
idea that John of all people …’ Her voice broke and she shook her head.
‘There’s nothing humble about you,’ Caro said, wanting to offer comfort, but still not sure where this was going. ‘Nor should there be. You do good work, and you take risks to fight for people who
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