by Pete Adams
He walked slowly through the rear precincts, mainly laid to car parking, and he mused as he sauntered, a sad necessity today, a garden taken up for utility, no longer a space for reflective thought, he reflected, not seeing the irony. Through the rear porch, large gathering room, a constricted corridor, and emerged into the contrasting voluminous side aisles of the Cathedral.
He met nobody as he walked. Pictured Kate in a pew, head covered with a black scarf and bowed, sighed and looked to the soaring roof. When he met Father Mike here in the past, he would usually walk around the inside of the nave and absorb the feeling, aware churches of this style were built lofty and spacious in order to bring the pleasantry to their knees, in awe of God. Jack brushed this aside, but wondered if this effected people still; never seemed to bother Martin.
‘Jack.’
Father O’Brien had this knack of being able to creep up on him wherever he might be. Mandy would say get deaf aids, but Mike floated like an angel, though which side did he bat for? The Father was a tall man, about the same age as Jack, a worn, heavily lined face at peace with itself, framed with large black, Michael Caine glasses, atop of a snub nose that was well on the way to being a beetroot; too much communion wine. Tall, he had a fading, wiry build, did not carry as much weight as Jack but they shared a pot belly. Jack and the Father went back a long ways, a strong bond, and this man knew Jack, he was intelligent, perceptive, and if you looked into his grey eyes you could see all that.
‘So what can I tell yer...?’ Jack shrugged, always a little nervous with Mike as if he had authority over him, and he held his hands and arms out in a supplicant manner, ‘...d’you think it’s easy?’
‘Walk with me.’
‘Take a turn about the room? It can be so refreshing?’
‘So our figures may be displayed to their best advantage. I bought Pride and Prejudice to keep up, and now we watch it all the time in the Rectory; the initial charm is wearing off,’ and with a withering look, Mike stopped the banter. ‘Jack, this thing with Pugwash is out of control. We all love a dig at pompous arses, but he’s well connected, and, what I’m saying is, you should let me help you.’
‘I need help?’
Mike gave Jack his patronising, angelic gobshite look, ‘Yes, we cannot afford you on the beat or worse early retirement,’ and they both laughed gently at what was a regularly shared joke.
‘I don’t want to retire.’
‘I know.’
‘Okay Mike, you didn’t call me down here and walk me around like a feckin’ eejit just to tell me Pugwash wants to hole me below the water line, I’ll take your help, gratefully received, so what’s up?’
Jack backed up, Mike was in his face, ‘So help me, if you swear in God’s house, Pugwash will have to line up behind me, and God for that matter.’
Jack never liked to upset Mike, ‘Sorry, think I have Floret’s.’ Jack meant it, not the Tourette’s, the sorry bit. Oldtimer’s, yes, but Floret’s, no, he would have remembered that.
‘Sit down.’
Jack was about to say about feckin’ time, but stopped himself, so it wasn’t Floret’s. The Father sat one place in from the centre aisle and Jack took the end seat, shuffled the pew cushion and stretched his long legs diagonally into the aisle. ‘Always promised myself an extra pair of knees if I took up praying,’ Jack commented, avoiding looking at Jesus on the cross.
‘You could do a lot worse. I had hoped you would follow Kate and Martin into the faith, but enough, first off that was a good thing you did for Keanu, but I’m not sure what you have asked him to do is fair on the lad?’ The gobshite angel was back with an admonishing look.
‘Mike, I had a feeling at Osama’s that’s all. It’s probably nothing, but it was there nevertheless,’ then something clicked. ‘Whoa back Neddy, you knew I was coming to see Gail, didn’t you?’
‘Jack, it’s not just the police I talk to.’
‘Well, I know that of course,’ he was about to go on about speaking to Jesus, but Father Mike passed him a scrap of paper. He opened it, recognised the handwriting and read, bolted upright, back rigid against the pew, folding his legs back inside and turning, ‘Bless me father, for I must dash.’
Mike sketched a blessing, put his hand onto Jack’s shoulder. ‘Promise me Keanu will be out of the way.’
Jack flopped down, rubbed his jaw, one of his regular thinking habits, ‘Blimey, Mike, no chance you could have got this to me sooner?’
Mike sat also. ‘Don’t change a thing. There’s a team close by if you need it.’ Jack looked into the eyes of a dear friend and colleague. ‘You will do the right thing, and do me a favour, take that girl of yours on a date.’
‘How?’
‘I have eyes and ears. Kate was the one, but please, move on.’
‘It’s hard,’ Jack was sitting hunched, lanks of hair falling over his forehead, and he felt he needed to pour out what he’d been holding in.
Mike spoke for him, ‘I know, you have a strong support mechanism around you, so use it, and I want to see you in church, fake it to make it, or just bring Martin.’
‘Mike, we need you at C&A’s if only to kerb my swearing,’ they both stood.
Mike faced Jack, ‘I’ll be there. This government is taking a diabolical liberty and crucifying my people, God forgive me.’
‘Well said, Mike, come the resolution brothers, and fathers.’
Thirty
Jack walked from the Cathedral energetically, not his usual saunter. There was a tinkling sound in his pocket, like broken glass; his new phone. With finger and thumb, he picked it out and panicked at the technology, pressed the almost cunningly concealed button; the screen came to life with a picture of Martin. How did that happen, but the picture disappeared, pressed again and Martin reappeared, his head pointing to the slide to unlock, he remembered the pass code, 1,2,3,4, reassured Oldtimers was still a way off. It was a text message; Back to nick now, Mandy. A tad fed up she didn’t say please, Jack flagged down a passing cab and was soon dropped at the front of the police station.
‘You could've walked that mate,’ Jack looked at the cabbie and thought no bloody tip for you gobshite, paid the fare and tipped him; he needed more exertion classes.
In reception he checked as to the welfare of Sid’s family, ‘Mandy’s looking for you.’
‘Well I hope she’s brought condoms, used all mine up at the weekend.’ This made Sid laugh, and that made Jack laugh too, but Sid was still laughing. ‘Not that funny Sid.’
‘No, it wasn’t.’
Jack turned, the weak smile of a condemned man, ‘Amanda darlin’, knew you were there,’ a nervous chuckle.
Hands on hips and feet firmly planted, she allowed herself a half smile, ‘I hesitate to say, would you like to come upstairs, and, Sid, you can stop laughing now.’
Jack followed Mandy to the door of the staircase and sped up to squash beside her as she passed through, receiving a strong stare, but a Brahma for Sid; mirth stopped dead in its tracks. Jack deferred to Mandy on the stairs; a polite, dirty old man.
‘I know what you’re doing you pervert.’
‘I have to look where I’m going, Ma’am.’
‘Yes, but not yet,’ He thought for a bit, then got it.
‘Caught up, Jack, 651 to 3 in my favour?’ He let it go, was enjoying the view. ‘Where have you been, Jack?’
‘Praying, Mands,’ she should have known better.
In the CP room Mandy rolled the chair Jack had got for her, away from him, ignored his sulking face, she was all business, ‘Vice are in at two, KFC have been researching, can you brief us Connie?’
Connie was growing in confidence, ‘Seem Biscuit follow up sink estate families, broke and on last leg. Somehow women, some with kid, were lost from social system, worse for them, not even on computer record as though never existed. They were then pick-up by someone who get them hook on drug and pass to guys we have under arrest. We check with Paolo and it tie in, we know this also as uniform police so
metime pick-up people and there no record they exist.’
Jack smiled warmly at his Chinese protégé, ‘Connie darling, brilliant, now where did you get this info from?’
‘You,’ Connie answered.
‘What?’
Mandy indicated she would take it from here. ‘The paper you passed to KFC this morning led the girls, through a maze admittedly, but eventually to Biscuit’s computer notes; password protected. But remarkably, that other scrap of paper had a note saying, bread, milk, butter and bacon.’
‘Yeah, d’you get what I wanted Frankie?’ Frankie demurred; Mandy was in charge.
‘A cryptic clue to Biscuit’s password and to his notes, all very enlightening, but there is something that confuses me.’
Jack looked at Frankie who did a so what can I tell yer shrug, or was it Gallic. ‘What’s that, love?’ and he smiled; strangely it didn’t mollify Mandy.
‘Where did you get the paper?’
‘I see, and clearly I got it off a bloke in the pub will not do?’ he made to be busy elsewhere, but Mandy was not finished.
‘Jack, I want you in the interview with vice.’
‘My siesta?’
‘Out, along with a great many other things, love,’ she stroked his face, followed with a playful slap and sashayed past, very close. His nostrils got a good dose of her opium perfume, slightly thin at the end of the morning, a blend of the perfume and a real woman; Amandium.
Kettle picked up a call, ‘No, Cyrano, she’s not here.’
Jack clicked his fingers and waved like mad to indicate he would take this, ‘Cyrano, Jane,’ he listened and hemmed, ‘I’ll send Kettle and Nobby, stay safe big nose...Cyrano, there is nothing about my backside that resembles a horse,’ and he hung up.
‘You sure about that, Jack, you should see it from my side,’ Mandy was back.
He addressed her, relaxed, knowing how much she liked a joke, ‘Cyrano needs some secondary tailing as the ferry comes in. He thinks a caravan has something inside it, the dogs picked up a scent, might be nothing, could be something?’ He turned away, ‘Nobby, Kettle, get down to the ferry port, make sure your fuel tanks are filled and your mum’s know you might be out late.’ They both reacted enthusiastically. Jack continued, ‘Frankie take some notes on this for me please.’ Frankie responded with her trademark rolled salute. Jack read it as respectful, knowing he had this effect on women.
Mandy ignored Jack, he had that effect on women as well, ‘Take care, don’t intercept unless you must, and if you do, call for back up first. We will alert the forces along the route, stay safe.’
‘Thanks, Ma’am,’ and off they went, two eager young men.
‘KFC, coordinate their back up and projected routes, I've a nervy feel about this,’ Mandy said.
‘Eye hurting, is it, Mandy?’ Jack gulped, ‘Joke...’ he said, feebly.
‘I want you now,’ and Mandy beckoned him with her index finger.
‘Oooh err matron,’ childish, Jack thought, but he was nervous, and he followed the vapour trail to her office.
‘Stop sniffing and sit down, and not on the chair over there, this one please,’ Mandy pointed to the psychologically challenged seats. He collected the PVC one by the wall, and to show his general air of cooperation, he brought it to the front of her desk. ‘I suppose that will have to do.’
‘651 all?’
She thought better of an official challenge, ‘If I asked where that note came from, will I get a truthful answer?’
‘No.’
‘Okay, but it gives us food for thought for the vice boys.’
There was a knock at the door and Jean from the canteen poked her head in, ‘Cooeee light refreshments,’ she called mimicking the PG Tips Monkey advert.
‘Nice, Jean, don’t give up the day job, got the monkey look off pat though,’ Jack said.
Jean smiled, gave him a peck on the cheek, ruffled his hair and looked at Mandy, ‘Look after him, luv, he’s a treasure.’ Mandy let a sigh out through her nose, had to, her lips were too tightly pressed together. Jean plonked a large plate of sandwiches in the centre of the desk, handed out two smaller plates like she was dealing cards, left with a casual glance over her shoulder and a cheeky smile at Jack. For his part he raised his hand and wiggled his fingers as if waving goodbye to Meesh. Mandy didn’t think it was worth rolling her eyes.
‘Well, this is not what I was expecting.’
‘I thought we should have lunch together; it’s a start,’ Mandy answered, removing the cling film, ‘let’s talk vice.’
‘There’s no answer to that, luv,’ and he grabbed a couple of the dainty triangular sandwiches and a handful of crisps, started eating, thankful Mandy was talking, and wondering how many he could tuck away before he had to reply. Mandy seemed unaware of the sandwich competition; girls, eh.
‘Biscuit didn’t name anyone in vice, intending to set up a separate case file with us, I presume. I doubt vice have got into his work computer, this was a good encryption.’ She helped herself to sandwiches, sensing she needed to, and leaned back, her chair rocked on a spring and she looked at the ceiling, then, bringing her seat abruptly upright, thought she had better grab a couple more.
Pushing a half chewed tuna and mayo into his cheek, like a squirrel, ‘I wonder how Phil’s getting on with Meesh?’
‘There I can tell you something. Jackie thinks Meesh is traumatised, no surprise, closing her mind to a lot of things, but she is also of the view the relationship she has formed with Gail, you, and me, is sound and we should let things take its path, so we can see her.’ Jack expertly retrieved the sandwich from his cheek and chewed. ‘Jackie has checked with social on Gail’s fostering capabilities, sound also, and they’re starting the process for fostering on a longer term.’
‘I’m worried about that.’
Mandy knocked his hand away from the sandwich she wanted, ‘You concerned if someone knows she could identify the killer she may be in danger?’ waving the sandwich, flaunting her success; she was good.
‘Precisely, what do you think?’
‘I think it’s a difficult call, if we secure her it might alert the killer, if we play along casually he may think nothing of it, though I’m worried about the women and the other kids. We have officers at the hospital, but they need to be released soon and we need to keep them safe. Jackie suggested a low secure unit specialising in drug abuse and recovery.’
There was a comfortable silence as they ate, ‘Amanda, this is nice having something to eat, just you and me.’
She put her hand up. ‘Please, don’t say Top Deck shandy.’
‘Didn’t need to, luv, we’re soul mates.’
‘You think?’
She passed him a bottle of water having opened it for him, wondered why she did that. He took it as normal. They looked at each other with equal intensity, the phone went and broke the spell. ‘Amanda Bruce,’ she listened, and in a higher pitched, noticeably excited voice, ‘Meesh, Jack and I were just talking about you, how are you, you like Jackie?’ she listened, ‘Yes I know Jack calls her Phil, she tell you that?’ listening and mouthing to Jack, ‘it’s Meesh.’
‘No kiddin’.’
‘She did? She thought it was funny and so did you? Jack is a dipstick, you know.’ Listening for a bit longer, Jack straining to hear, ‘I’m not sure that would be a good idea, Jack and I are very busy, yes, put her on.’ Mandy looked at Jack, no need to say anything. ‘Jacks, hi,’ another pause, ‘Hmmm, hang on a.’ She put her hand over the phone, ‘Meesh wants to come in and see us and Jacks thinks this’ll be okay. She will be here all the time.’
‘Do it, luv, I want to see her.’
Excited, Mandy replied, ‘So do I,’ put the phone back to her ear and he looked at her mouth as she spoke, watched her lips, fantasising. ‘Okay, see you later.’
Mandy had finished eating. Jack was mopping up the remaining sandwiches, but his eye never left hers, ‘Jack, be careful.’
He didn’t make a joke,
‘You too, lover, she’s a little angel and I want to see her settled.’
Mandy sipped water from her bottle, ‘I like to see a man with an appetite, but there are limits.’
Pretending not to hear, he made a token gesture of leaving a half-eaten sandwich alongside the lemons, thinking, nice touch that Jean. There was a gentle knock at the door and Jean miraculously appeared, ‘Sorry, the Commander has asked for sandwiches and this is the only posh plate we have,’ she approached the desk noticing all the sandwiches were gone, Jack having eaten the last bit while Mandy was distracted. ‘Something wrong with the lemons, Jack?’
Mandy burst out laughing. Jack loved her animated face, ‘Jean darling, you’re a breath of fresh air, so you are,’ his best cod Irish for two lovely women.
‘Jack, you do make me laugh,’ and he smiled, one of his warmest, and she looked deep into his eye. Jean picked up the big plate, the two little ones, and as she was leaving looked sideways at Mandy, ‘Play your cards right, Jack.’
‘Jean, he has a hand like a foot, leave the rest to me,’ the two women laughed at his expense, exchanged a knowing look, and Jean left. Mandy carried on chortling to herself, Jack just looked, and she held his gaze. It was like that for a little while until Connie poked her round bespectacled head around the door, ‘Ferry in, Ma’am.’ Mandy waved an acknowledgement and playfully looked at Jack. Bugger me, he thought, butterflies in my tummy, enjoying the feeling. She broke the spell, ‘Vice will be here soon, how we shall handle it?’
‘Bring them in here. Play it sympathetically, broach the subject of what Biscuit was working on, but do not stress it. We’ll need his files, blah-blah. Nothing is going to happen this afternoon, this is sounding out, and they will know this; just you and me.’
‘And Top Deck shandy, shite, did I just say that?’
‘You did, my luv, and tolerably well.’
The phone rang and Hissing Sid announced Vice.
