an officer?’
‘You’re ahead of me on that as well, sir. All I have been told is that the officers who attended called for back-up after the man became violent. It took eight officers to restrain him – others held back members of the public who had become emotional – and in the course of this the prisoner developed breathing difficulties. The officer in charge, who has had advanced CPR training, did his best to revive him, unfortunately without success. There’ll be a post mortem of course. It is always possible that a pre-existing condition might have provoked his collapse. At the moment, however, it’s probably sensible to assume that the cause of death will be related to positional asphyxia.’
‘The officers involved have written up their reports?’
‘Naturally.’
‘And I assume their bodycams will confirm their written statements?’
‘The IPCC has all the footage, sir. They’ll match the reports with it. Although it is worth saying that several of the bodycams were malfunctioning, and, as well, in moments of such confusion the footage does not always illuminate.’
All of which was true. Why, then, did it sound like a series of excuses?
‘Check that they covered the earlier incident as well, will you? And pull the records of all the officers involved. I’d like to know if any of them have been subject to any disciplinary action for misconduct. Just in case.’
‘Certainly, sir. If you think that’s necessary.’ The edge to Chahda’s voice might have indicated that he wasn’t best pleased by Joshua’s interference, but his smile belied this.
‘I gather Chief Superintendent Gaby Wright is in charge there?’
‘She is. A recent appointment as Acting Commander.’
‘I had a look at her stats. I see there’s been a spike in Section 60 stops since she took over?’
‘That’s correct and in my opinion unavoidable. The Lovelace has never been easy to police, and word of its closure has been met by a rise in antisocial behaviour and crime. If I was in CS Wright’s shoes, I would have done the same thing. She’s a good officer. Tough but fair.’
‘No doubt. But given the circumstances, don’t you think it might be worth her going a bit easier?’
‘It might, sir, if she had the numbers. A visible presence on the street would ease things. But she doesn’t have the officers. I put a report on your desk about this.’ Chahda glanced at the high pile of buff folders – priority reading for the new Commissioner. ‘In it, CS Wright makes a special-case argument for more resources. She needs greater visibility and the ability to intervene to head off trouble. Without that, she’s had to resort to the increased use of Section 60.’
‘I see.’ Must read faster, he thought, knowing, though, that if he did, he would find a score of other such requests from other boroughs.
‘I spoke to her this morning, and she has done everything I would have wanted her to. The emergency services have been instructed to attend flashpoints in Rockham only after due authorisation; officers of the TSG will keep a low profile so as not to aggravate the situation; there will be no independent contractors in the Lovelace monitoring tagged offenders; and there is a stay on the execution of arrest warrants in Rockham until further notice. Local officers have also been instructed to display special sensitivity when addressing the question.’
‘Sounds competent.’
‘She is a good officer, sir. I’m confident that everything will go smoothly.’ A pause before: ‘Is there anything else, sir?’
You had to admire the man: he was thorough and to the point. ‘There is something,’ Joshua said. ‘Get somebody to pull out the records of any stops under Section 4 of the RTA 1988 in the central London area for me. Any incident reported in the last three weeks.’
‘May I ask why?’
‘Something I need to check. If you wouldn’t mind?’
‘Of course. I’ll see it done.’
‘Thanks, Anil. And there are also a couple more things. Set up a press conference to brief on the Rockham incident – the bare bones of what happened, the fact that the IPCC will now be in charge of the investigation.’
‘Yes, sir. I can certainly do that.’
‘Thank you.’ He glanced down at his diary. ‘I’ve got a brief window at 1.15, shall we set it for then?’
‘You will be doing the briefing yourself, sir?’
‘I think that’s best, don’t you? First week and all that – give the public an opportunity to get to know their new Commissioner. I trust that’s not a problem?’
‘No, sir, it’s not a problem. I’ll set it in motion for 1315 hours.’ A pause and then: ‘You mentioned two matters?’
‘Yes, I did. Given this is early days for us, I want to make sure that you are aware that incidents like the one in Rockham should be reported to me as soon as they occur. I have no intention of interfering in the chain of command, but I do expect to be kept informed.’
‘Of course you do, sir.’ Chahda nodded to reinforce this affirmation. ‘A report of the Rockham death is highlighted in the summary of yesterday’s events. It is on its way to you. But I will certainly take note that you wish for more immediate notification.’
As ever, a model response. ‘Thanks, Anil.’ Joshua couldn’t help feeling that his determination to take control of the job might have made him slightly overdo his domination of his deputy. ‘That will be all.’
1 p.m.
Cathy was about to head up the gangway when she saw the fox. It was a big one and decrepit, its fur matted and its tail a ragged thing.
There were many foxes that haunted the estate – more of them recently since the Lovelace had begun to stink of blocked drains and rotting rubbish, and especially in this heat – but she had only ever spotted them at night or in the early morning, and then just out of the corner of her eye. But this one was limping forward in the full light of day, and when its path crossed with hers it did not run away. She stopped and it did too. She looked at it and it held her gaze. Its legs, she saw, were shaking. She shut her eyes.
When she opened them again, the fox had gone. Too fast a disappearance, surely, given how sick it had seemed?
She’d not had enough sleep; she shook herself into motion.
The door to Ruben’s parents’ place was ajar. She gave the bell a quick press to warn them that she was there, and then she walked in and down the corridor.
For the second time that day, she couldn’t help but be struck by the pictures of Ruben that lined the walls. They brought such a lump to her throat that she quickened her pace. But there was no escape. The living room, which she soon reached, was also dominated by a large full-colour portrait of Ruben that hung above the mantelpiece. It was Ruben on one of his better days, lit by an open smile.
Despite the room containing a vast array of objects – plastic flowers, china shepherdesses, a large red plastic
