mate on the Sun or the Daily Mail about this. Hey, guess what? Someone’s only gone and dug a fucking grave on the pitch at Silvertown Dock. That’s a two-hundred-quid tip. Maybe more if it’s a front page. If it wasn’t for them being here with their fucking cameras we could have put out that it was just a hole and not a grave at all. We might still do that if we can get that rozzer in the duffel coat to cooperate.’
‘Yes, I see that now.’
‘No worries. Can’t be helped. Look, here’s what we’re all going to say. We’re going to say it looks like the work of some disgruntled fans. Kids, probably. And we’re going to piss on that Sicilian message stuff from an enormous height. The last thing Mr Sokolnikov needs right now is more wild speculation about who and what he is. The people who committed this outrage probably couldn’t even spell Sicilian. Got that?’
Maurice and Colin nodded.
‘More importantly, Colin, I want you to start thinking about if and how and when we can repair the pitch. We’re at home again to Newcastle in ten days.’
‘Believe me, I hadn’t forgotten.’
‘Right then. Let’s talk to that rozzer.’
I walked towards the policeman.
‘I’m sorry for keeping you waiting, Inspector,’ I said. ‘Especially at this late hour. But I really think we’ve wasted your time. Apologies for that, too. It seems obvious to me that this is the work of yobs. Disgruntled fans, so called. That’s nothing we’re not used to at a football club. I can’t imagine you’ll be surprised when I tell you that we get threats all the time and that very occasionally they manifest as vandalism. It’s regrettable but not uncommon.’
‘What kind of threats?’ asked the inspector.
‘Emails. Tweets. The occasional poison-pen letter. Boxes of shit in the post. You name it, we get it.’
‘I’d like to see some of these, if I may.’
‘I’m afraid that’s not possible. We have a policy of not keeping anything like that. Especially the gift-wrapped turds.’
‘May I ask why, sir?’
‘Yesterday’s shit smells bad, Inspector.’
‘I meant the letters and the emails, of course.’
Detective Inspector Neville was thin with a hooked nose that made him look like he had a permanent sneer on his face. To my keen but cold ear his sounded like a Yorkshire accent.
I shrugged. ‘We don’t keep that kind of thing because frankly there’s so much of it. Really it’s simpler just to erase or destroy anything that’s threatening or insulting. Just in case a player who’s been threatened or abused sees it and is disturbed by what he’s read.’
‘I’d have thought anyone would have a right to know if he’s been threatened, sir.’
‘You might very well think that. But we take a different attitude. Some of these lads are very highly strung, Inspector. And one or two of them are none too bright. Even threats that are patently absurd can exercise a strongly negative effect on a weaker-minded player at a Premier League football club. And we wouldn’t want that, would we? Not with a third round FA Cup tie against Leeds on Sunday.’
‘Nevertheless, a crime has been committed here.’
‘A hole in the ground? That’s not exactly seven-seven, now, is it?’
‘No, but with all due respect, sir, that’s no ordinary hole in the ground. For a start, there’s the shape. And then there’s the obvious financial loss. As holes in the ground go, I imagine this is an extremely expensive one. Wouldn’t you say so, Mr Evans?’
The detective inspector obviously knew the kind of person he was speaking to. What groundsman doesn’t moan about the state of a pitch? But even before he started to answer I wished I’d told Colin to play down the cost of the damage to the police. His being Welsh only seemed to make this worse as Colin’s manner was very considered and deliberate.
‘A hole like that?’ Colin shook his head. ‘Let’s see now. The whole pitch cost nearly a million quid to lay
‘Yes, I see that now.’
‘No worries. Can’t be helped. Look, here’s what we’re all going to say. We’re going to say it looks like the work of some disgruntled fans. Kids, probably. And we’re going to piss on that Sicilian message stuff from an enormous height. The last thing Mr Sokolnikov needs right now is more wild speculation about who and what he is. The people who committed this outrage probably couldn’t even spell Sicilian. Got that?’
Maurice and Colin nodded.
‘More importantly, Colin, I want you to start thinking about if and how and when we can repair the pitch. We’re at home again to Newcastle in ten days.’
‘Believe me, I hadn’t forgotten.’
‘Right then. Let’s talk to that rozzer.’
I walked towards the policeman.
‘I’m sorry for keeping you waiting, Inspector,’ I said. ‘Especially at this late hour. But I really think we’ve wasted your time. Apologies for that, too. It seems obvious to me that this is the work of yobs. Disgruntled fans, so called. That’s nothing we’re not used to at a football club. I can’t imagine you’ll be surprised when I tell you that we get threats all the time and that very occasionally they manifest as vandalism. It’s regrettable but not uncommon.’
‘What kind of threats?’ asked the inspector.
‘Emails. Tweets. The occasional poison-pen letter. Boxes of shit in the post. You name it, we get it.’
‘I’d like to see some of these, if I may.’
‘I’m afraid that’s not possible. We have a policy of not keeping anything like that. Especially the gift-wrapped turds.’
‘May I ask why, sir?’
‘Yesterday’s shit smells bad, Inspector.’
‘I meant the letters and the emails, of course.’
Detective Inspector Neville was thin with a hooked nose that made him look like he had a permanent sneer on his face. To my keen but cold ear his sounded like a Yorkshire accent.
I shrugged. ‘We don’t keep that kind of thing because frankly there’s so much of it. Really it’s simpler just to erase or destroy anything that’s threatening or insulting. Just in case a player who’s been threatened or abused sees it and is disturbed by what he’s read.’
‘I’d have thought anyone would have a right to know if he’s been threatened, sir.’
‘You might very well think that. But we take a different attitude. Some of these lads are very highly strung, Inspector. And one or two of them are none too bright. Even threats that are patently absurd can exercise a strongly negative effect on a weaker-minded player at a Premier League football club. And we wouldn’t want that, would we? Not with a third round FA Cup tie against Leeds on Sunday.’
‘Nevertheless, a crime has been committed here.’
‘A hole in the ground? That’s not exactly seven-seven, now, is it?’
‘No, but with all due respect, sir, that’s no ordinary hole in the ground. For a start, there’s the shape. And then there’s the obvious financial loss. As holes in the ground go, I imagine this is an extremely expensive one. Wouldn’t you say so, Mr Evans?’
The detective inspector obviously knew the kind of person he was speaking to. What groundsman doesn’t moan about the state of a pitch? But even before he started to answer I wished I’d told Colin to play down the cost of the damage to the police. His being Welsh only seemed to make this worse as Colin’s manner was very considered and deliberate.
‘A hole like that?’ Colin shook his head. ‘Let’s see now. The whole pitch cost nearly a million quid to lay
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