think he’s mobile?’ Blake said.
Lucy shook her head. ‘I don’t know, ma’am. You dress up like a lunatic, pick someone at random, cut them down with a sword and just run off into the night, in most cases leaving them alive to shout for help … you’d normally be asking for trouble. I mean that wouldn’t just draw attention to the scene of the crime, but to you and to whichever route you’ve used to get away. That would normally be the trademark of a disorganised attacker who’s doomed to get nicked pretty quickly. Unless, as we’ve already said, it’s a part of an act, the purpose of which is to conceal the fact he’s actually a very organised offender indeed. I mean, while the cops are running around looking for a grinning maniac, he’s removed his disguise and miraculously become an ordinary citizen again, happily driving home to his house in the suburbs … or something like that.’
Blake contemplated this.
‘Of course, he’s not going to leave his motor on an actual car park,’ Lucy added. ‘I mean, they’re covered much more intensively by security cameras than on-street, and that would reveal his VRM.’
‘You’ve really done your homework on this, haven’t you?’
Lucy shrugged modestly.
Blake sat back on her swivel-chair to chink. ‘DC Clayburn? Aren’t you the lass who arrested Timothy Lennox? Cleared up a whole bunch of historical murders?’
‘That’s right, ma’am. Last winter.’
‘Good collar, that. You also led the undercover op that brought down the Twisted Sisters over in Longsight, didn’t you?’
‘I didn’t lead the op, ma’am.’
‘She was a leading light in it,’ Beardmore grunted. ‘They couldn’t have done it without her.’
Blake chewed on her pen. ‘Have you ever thought about coming to work for me in Robbery Squad?’
Beardmore pointedly harrumphed – a message Lucy received loud and clear.
‘It’s certainly something I’d be interested in, ma’am,’ she said. ‘But well, I’ve got quite a bit of work on in CID at the mo.’
Blake shrugged. ‘We haven’t got any vacancies at present, anyway. But if something comes up, I’ll get Danny here to give you a shout, so you can get your application in early.’
‘I will, ma’am. Thank you.’
‘Okay.’ Blake shuffled the paperwork. ‘Leave this lot with me. I’ll keep you informed.’
Lucy nodded and smiled, and as she left the office, walking side by side with Beardmore, felt completely re-energised. It was always a thrill to think you’d made an impact on someone who counted.
But they were only halfway down the stairs, when Beardmore said: ‘Don’t get any ideas about that. Robbery Squad are an effective unit, but you know what things are like. One day the money’s there, the next it isn’t. Friday night, they lock up a load of blaggers. Saturday night, they celebrate it. Monday morning, they’ve all been shunted back to Division.’
Lucy wasn’t sure how to respond, but she knew that he was right.
‘Hey, Lucy!’ someone called down from the top of the stairs.
They turned and saw Danny Tucker descending.
‘Sarge?’ she replied.
‘Quick word?’ he asked.
Taking the hint, Beardmore turned and continued down. ‘Just remember, the jobs are piling up,’ he said over his shoulder.
Lucy turned back to Tucker, who grinned, displaying a neat row of pearly whites.
‘This is good stuff you’ve brought us,’ he said. ‘Thanks very much.’
Unsure how to reply, she nodded.
‘We’re actually working a big case at present,’ he said.
‘Yeah, I saw the pics. That’s the Saturday Street Gang, isn’t it?’
‘Oh, you heard about that?’
‘How could I not? Seven cash-in-transit robberies in two months. But I didn’t know Saturday Street had done any jobs on the N.’
‘Well … they haven’t,’ Tucker admitted. ‘But when we were still the Manchester Robbery Squad, our unit was getting very close to them. It only seemed reasonable we should continue the enquiry after they broke us up. It’d be a feather in our cap if we could pull those bastards in. But it’s the same with this case you’ve brought us. I mean, we’re busy … but we can never be too busy at present, if you know what I mean. Got to justify our existence somehow. Anyway …’ Fleetingly, he seemed awkward, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to say next. ‘You’ve done a lot of groundwork for us here. This is great, so thanks very much for that. I’ll keep you clued in, let you know how we get on.’
‘Thanks, sarge.’ Lucy couldn’t help wondering why he’d come downstairs to repeat DI Blake’s promise.
‘Hey, listen …’ He smiled again, which he seemed to do a lot – and why not, it was far from unattractive. ‘This is Robbery Squad. We don’t do titles. Call me “Danny”.’
‘I will … thanks.’
He headed back upstairs. Lucy watched him go for a teensy bit longer than she perhaps normally would, before turning and walking on down to CID.
Ordinary Joe Lazenby didn’t particularly want to go home that evening.
Immediately after the incident in Hogarth’s Cocktail Lounge, he drove aimlessly around the town for perhaps an hour. All along of course, he’d known that there were higher powers in this world he’d infiltrated. Yet, things had gone so smoothly for so long that he’d begun to feel, perhaps not invincible, but certainly a master of his own destiny. During the working day, he headed up a relatively lowly admin department at Crowley Technical College. He earned a reasonable wage from it, and he was treated with civility and taken fairly seriously by the academics on campus, even if in truth he suspected that they thought him a jumped-up little jobsworth who was no more than a glorified paper-pusher. But he made an okay living. He owned a large detached house on Coxcombe Avenue, which was on the Cotely Barn estate on the edge of Crowley golf course, an affluent part of town; he drove a decent enough motor – a metallic beige Ford Galaxy; and he and his family went on a nice holiday once a year – cruising was the in-thing currently, and they’d so far done the Western Med, the Eastern Med, the Caribbean and next August they were looking forward to doing the Norwegian fjords. On the surface, everything was hunky-dory.
But in actual fact, this commonplaceness was the problem.
For quite some time, Joe Lazenby had been deeply frustrated by his none too awe-inspiring status. Throughout his adulthood, he’d felt that, unless he was to diversify into something much more lucrative,
