shit, the mire, into the warm sunshine and into the good life?
So what was the plan?
I’m really tired. Can we take a break?
TWELVE
“You want me to do what?” Ted hissed.
“Bring all the info round to mine.” Groat was enjoying himself.
“I told you. Mr Morrison said I shouldn’t talk to anyone about the project. I spoke to you – unwisely as it now seems – and now you’re off telling all and sundry. I might as well pack in now.”
“So how much progress have you made?”
“I’m still busy analysing the figures.”
“Sorry; not what I asked. What progress have you made?”
Ted sighed. “Look. There are at least five forces across the country where these brace and bit jobs have been committed. You would think that at least they would talk to each other, but no. They might communicate at high level, but as for mutual assistance, or a helping hand, exchange of information at an operational level, well. It’s like ‘My gang’s better than your gang.’ Like some schoolboy pissing contest; ‘Nah nah, ne nah nah,’ ‘We’ll get him before you do.’ And bugger the consequences for the postmasters or the general public.”
“So how are you getting on?”
Ted sighed again, “They won’t talk to each other, they certainly won’t talk to me. I just get a blank stare. Sometimes I think it would be preferable if they told me to fuck off, but they don’t. They’re politeness itself. ‘Sorry, but it’s all in hand.’ ‘Not today thank you.’ ‘ Not today thank you ? ’ When then? Tomorrow, next week, next year? After another postmaster has been murdered? Who do they think they are? It’s patently obvious it’s not all in hand or they would have arrested someone by now. D’you know, I’ve been told that this has been going on since 1967!”
Groat said, “But that’s seven years! Can that be true? Seven years and no arrests, no progress at all?”
“Makes matters even worse, doesn’t it.”
Groat engineered a significant pause. “So basically, they can’t make anything of it and you’re going on about them not communicating or talking to anyone about it, and now you’re acting exactly the same. Pearson, get your arse over here and start making some headway.”
*
It was a reluctant and hesitant Ted Pearson who was introduced to Dee Taylor in the Groats’ comfortable lounge just over an hour later.
“Look.” She said, “So far, as far as I’m concerned, this is all theory. I’ve seen FBI studies from America and I talked to Lester about Dr Haward’s work, but I’ve never done anything like this before – not for real. When I spoke to him before, I was actually wanting to find someone who might have tried to construct a profile from crime data. Or access some old files, some completed cases, so that I could put the principles into practice and see how it compared with reality. And most important of all, see how close I could get – using the methods – to the convicted man. I certainly didn’t anticipate anything like this. Live crimes.”
“So what exactly are we going to do?” Groat asked.
Ted looked on, a glum expression clouding his face.
“I suppose we could give it a go… The problem with this, is that we will be going operational as it were, with no trial run first. No experience, no control samples, no safety net.”
Groat sighed. “Do you think you can do it?”
“Oh, I can do it, but what if I make a mistake? I would have no way of checking. No way of knowing if I have missed something and may be leading you up blind alley, into a dead end, or on a wild goose chase. We might do a lot of work and get absolutely nowhere.”
“Or we might strike gold.” Groat said. “It’s a completely new approach. A completely new way of looking at things. I think we’ve nothing to lose.”
Ted grimaced.
Groat continued, “So if we do give it a go, how do we go about it – and more importantly, are you in?”
Dee smiled. “I am, if you
So what was the plan?
I’m really tired. Can we take a break?
TWELVE
“You want me to do what?” Ted hissed.
“Bring all the info round to mine.” Groat was enjoying himself.
“I told you. Mr Morrison said I shouldn’t talk to anyone about the project. I spoke to you – unwisely as it now seems – and now you’re off telling all and sundry. I might as well pack in now.”
“So how much progress have you made?”
“I’m still busy analysing the figures.”
“Sorry; not what I asked. What progress have you made?”
Ted sighed. “Look. There are at least five forces across the country where these brace and bit jobs have been committed. You would think that at least they would talk to each other, but no. They might communicate at high level, but as for mutual assistance, or a helping hand, exchange of information at an operational level, well. It’s like ‘My gang’s better than your gang.’ Like some schoolboy pissing contest; ‘Nah nah, ne nah nah,’ ‘We’ll get him before you do.’ And bugger the consequences for the postmasters or the general public.”
“So how are you getting on?”
Ted sighed again, “They won’t talk to each other, they certainly won’t talk to me. I just get a blank stare. Sometimes I think it would be preferable if they told me to fuck off, but they don’t. They’re politeness itself. ‘Sorry, but it’s all in hand.’ ‘Not today thank you.’ ‘ Not today thank you ? ’ When then? Tomorrow, next week, next year? After another postmaster has been murdered? Who do they think they are? It’s patently obvious it’s not all in hand or they would have arrested someone by now. D’you know, I’ve been told that this has been going on since 1967!”
Groat said, “But that’s seven years! Can that be true? Seven years and no arrests, no progress at all?”
“Makes matters even worse, doesn’t it.”
Groat engineered a significant pause. “So basically, they can’t make anything of it and you’re going on about them not communicating or talking to anyone about it, and now you’re acting exactly the same. Pearson, get your arse over here and start making some headway.”
*
It was a reluctant and hesitant Ted Pearson who was introduced to Dee Taylor in the Groats’ comfortable lounge just over an hour later.
“Look.” She said, “So far, as far as I’m concerned, this is all theory. I’ve seen FBI studies from America and I talked to Lester about Dr Haward’s work, but I’ve never done anything like this before – not for real. When I spoke to him before, I was actually wanting to find someone who might have tried to construct a profile from crime data. Or access some old files, some completed cases, so that I could put the principles into practice and see how it compared with reality. And most important of all, see how close I could get – using the methods – to the convicted man. I certainly didn’t anticipate anything like this. Live crimes.”
“So what exactly are we going to do?” Groat asked.
Ted looked on, a glum expression clouding his face.
“I suppose we could give it a go… The problem with this, is that we will be going operational as it were, with no trial run first. No experience, no control samples, no safety net.”
Groat sighed. “Do you think you can do it?”
“Oh, I can do it, but what if I make a mistake? I would have no way of checking. No way of knowing if I have missed something and may be leading you up blind alley, into a dead end, or on a wild goose chase. We might do a lot of work and get absolutely nowhere.”
“Or we might strike gold.” Groat said. “It’s a completely new approach. A completely new way of looking at things. I think we’ve nothing to lose.”
Ted grimaced.
Groat continued, “So if we do give it a go, how do we go about it – and more importantly, are you in?”
Dee smiled. “I am, if you
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