Dead Embers

by Matt Brolly

  Lambert smirked. ‘Oh come on, Kennedy, don’t make me go through this. You know what I mean. Won’t it be weird you two working together?’

  ‘I’ve worked with him before,’ said Matilda. ‘We were seeing each other then. You may remember?’ said Matilda, rubbing her face where the flames had destroyed her skin.

  Lambert fell silent. He found it difficult to comprehend Tillman seeing anyone, let alone Matilda.

  ‘You realise we’ve never once talked about that day,’ said Matilda.

  Lambert thought back to the explosion that had caused the damage to Matilda’s flesh. It had been his idea to send her into the building undercover. He could picture the explosion and ensuing events in perfect clarity, could taste the bitter smoke which had engulfed the place.

  ‘I’m truly sorry, Matilda,’ he said, sensing how inadequate the words were. ‘I just didn’t know how to broach the subject.’

  ‘A simple “how are you feeling” would have sufficed.’

  ‘How are you feeling?’ said Lambert.

  Matilda smiled, and in that moment Lambert realised no amount of marks to her face could change her beauty.

  ‘Look, sir, I know you blame yourself for what happened.’

  Lambert raised the palm of his hand, begging her not to continue, but she ignored him.

  ‘I know you’ve not asked for my forgiveness, and I’m not offering it.’

  ‘OK,’ said Lambert.

  ‘There’s nothing to forgive, sir. I was working. If you hadn’t sent me in, something else could have happened to me. I might have got caught in the fringes of the explosion or been shot by one of those crazed gunmen. What’s more, that maniac could have escaped. You couldn’t have foreseen what happened.’

  Lambert swallowed hard. ‘I appreciate you saying that,’ he said.

  ‘For Christ’s sake, it’s not lip-service, Michael, I mean it. If we’re going to continue working together you’re going to have to get over your guilt complex.’

  ‘I see,’ said Lambert, matching the smile still etched on Matilda’s face. ‘Well, we’d better get going to the slum,’ he said, standing.

  ‘The slum?’ asked Matilda.

  ‘Just the word your boyfriend uses for my new abode,’ said Lambert, ushering Matilda out of the coffee shop.

  Matilda turned and through pursed lips said, ‘Please don’t use that term again.’

  ‘Abode?’

  ‘You know which term.’

  * * *

  DS Colville and DI Greene were waiting for them outside the entrance to Lambert’s flat with an addition to the team. Colville stood motionless, her back rigid whilst Greene paced the front pavement, smoking.

  It was the new member who spoke first. DS Duggan moved towards them, his black overcoat stretching beneath his knees, his styled hair not budging an inch despite the breeze.

  ‘What the hell is this about, Lambert?’

  The officer didn’t have an easy way about him and with everything that had happened that morning Lambert would have liked nothing better than to take the man aside and to remind him about police hierarchy. He’d sometimes found this with the Anti-Corruption officers. Some felt as though the structure of the police force didn’t apply directly to them. They spent so much time investigating crooked officers that they didn’t trust anyone, and such lack of trust led to a lack of respect. Either way, Lambert couldn’t let it slip.

  ‘Listen Duggan, remember you’re a guest on this investigation.’

  ‘I’m not a guest. I’ve been working on this for four years,’ said Duggan, his hand moving to his damaged right eye.

  ‘The investigation at the moment is into Caroline Jardine’s disappearance. You’re a guest in that investigation. An investigation which I’m in charge of.’

  Duggan went to protest but Lambert cut him short. ‘If you want to continue being part of this, you’ll follow my instructions.’ Lambert didn’t wait for a response. He opened the communal front door and made his way up to the flat. ‘Make yourselves at home,’ he said once they were inside.

  Unfortunately, Tillman’s description of his home couldn’t have been more apt. What few possessions Lambert had with him were scattered about the place haphazardly. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d washed the dishes, which were piled high in the sink and on the makeshift dining table. If any of the team were surprised by the habitat, they weren’t foolish enough to express their feelings.

  Lambert wasted no time. ‘I spoke to Chief Superintendent Sinnott today,’ he said, noting Duggan’s lips forming in reaction.

  Lambert raised his right index finger and continued talking. ‘There were some complications but he has conceded he’s linked to this so-called Manor.’

  ‘Where is he now?’ said Colville, who stood with her back against the wall, her perfect poise not affected by Lambert’s revelation.

  ‘He’s in secure custody for the time being.’

  ‘I haven’t heard about this,’ said Duggan.

  ‘Why the hell would you have?’ said Lambert.

  ‘What exactly do you mean by secure?’ said Duggan, not learning from the earlier confrontation.

  ‘Secure in the fact that we’re not going public with it yet,’ said Lambert. ‘There’s more. Sinnott gave me a name.’

  Colville inched a step forward from her position, the first obvious sign of excitement Lambert had seen from her.

  ‘John Weaver,’ said Lambert.

  Duggan sat down on one of the dining chairs as if his legs had been dragged away from him.

  ‘John Weaver, the Member of Parliament? The Minister for Policing?’ said Duggan.

  ‘You know him then?’ said Lambert, wondering if Duggan was seeing his career fading away.

  Duggan placed his hand on his forehead. ‘What exactly did Sinnott tell you?’

  ‘Not enough to make an arrest,’ said Lambert.

  ‘Then what the hell are we doing here?’ said Duggan.

  Lambert glanced over at DI Greene, who’d hardly said a word since they’d arrived.

  ‘You’ve heard of Weaver?’ he asked her.

  ‘Of course I bloody have,’ she said.

  Lambert smiled, understanding she was as frustrated with Duggan’s little performance as he was.

  ‘The plan is this,’ said Lambert. ‘We’re going to question him off record.’

  ‘Off record?’ said Duggan, getting to his feet and waving his arms about as if Lambert’s suggestion was completely preposterous. ‘You don’t question someone like John Weaver off record. We’ll all lose our jobs.’

  ‘Well it’s a risk I’m willing to take,’ said Lambert. ‘We have absolutely zero leads on Caroline Jardine’s whereabouts. We all know what’s been discovered at the Manor and, with Sinnott out of the picture, Weaver’s the only one who can lead us to Caroline.’

  ‘I don’t go along with this,’ said Duggan.

  ‘You’re part of it now,’ said Lambert, ‘so sit down.’

  ‘No. No way. If we’re going to speak to Weaver we do it officially or I’m out of here.’

  ‘Oh just sit down, Charles, and shut up,’ snapped DS Colville, who had moved from her position against the wall. ‘Not everything can go through the books.’

  Duggan sat down like a scolded child, and in that second the doorbell rang. Lambert glanced out the window to see the top of Tillman’s head and two of his entourage.

  ‘Oh, and there’s just one more thing,’ he said.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Tillman’s entrance was as elaborate and over the top as Lambert had expected. He suppressed a giggle as the Chief Superintendent barged through the door to his flat like an actor entering the stage.

  Lambert glanced first at Duggan then Matilda to assess their responses. Matilda didn’t react but Duggan looked as if someone had shot him. He got to his feet and silently began shaking his head.

  ‘You all know Chief Superintendent Glenn Tillman?’ said Lambert, to the assembled group.
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  ‘No, no, no,’ said Duggan finally finding voice. ‘This won’t do at all.’

  Tillman hung his hands to the side. ‘What’s the matter, Duggan, I thought you’d be pleased to see me?’

  They’d planned Tillman’s entrance this way in the hope Duggan would be less likely to start a scene if others were present. It seemed they’d underestimated Duggan’s level of antipathy to Tillman. ‘Can I have a word with you both in the other room, DCI Lambert?’ said the man from Anti-Corruption.

  ‘We’re all friends here,’ said Lambert, refusing to be dictated to by the junior officer.

  ‘Fine. If we’re all friends here then everyone should be aware Chief Superintendent Tillman is currently under investigation by Anti-Corruption.’

  ‘I think everyone already is aware,’ said Tillman, stepping towards Duggan, his arms out to his side, making him look even bigger than he already was.

  ‘I wasn’t,’ came a lone voice from the room.

  ‘And you are?’ asked Tillman.

  ‘DI Greene.’

  ‘Ah yes,’ said Tillman. ‘Michael explained your discovery to me. Pleasure to meet you. This AC investigation, if you’ll pardon my French, is utter bullshit. Duggan here knows that but he can’t bring himself to admit it.’

  Duggan began shaking his head again, DS Colville placing her hand on the man’s arm. ‘Sit down,’ she instructed, still with a silent poise.

  ‘You must be DS Colville,’ said Tillman.

  ‘Sir.’

  ‘Great, now introductions are over we need to work through the next stage of the plan.’

  ‘There is a plan then?’ said Duggan.

  Tillman stared at Lambert as if somehow he was to blame for Duggan’s continued outbursts.

  Lambert opened one of the small windows. The radiators were on full blast and with the amount of people and hot air in the room the small confined place had become stifling.

  ‘Sir, what can you tell us?’ said Lambert, ignoring Duggan, who sat on the edge of his seat next to DS Colville.

  ‘I’m sure Lambert has briefed you on the information gleaned from Sinnott, about our favourite politician the Right Honourable John Weaver? We need to question Weaver but, as you can imagine, it’s not that simple unless you have something significant to back up your request.’

  ‘Only the word of a senior officer, under detention, and no doubt duress,’ said Duggan.

  ‘Quite, a corrupt senior officer,’ said Tillman, ignoring the jibe about duress. ‘Furthermore, if we approach Weaver now he’ll surround himself with lawyers, and any remaining chance we have of finding the Jardines will evaporate.’

  Tillman laid out the plan for them, omitting the specifics he’d worked through with Lambert.

  ‘I’ve managed to access Weaver’s schedule for the day. He has a cross-town meeting this afternoon and I’ve managed to replace his transport team.’

  The other officers remained silent until Greene spoke up. ‘What exactly does that mean, sir?’

  ‘It means, Inspector, that rather than going across town, Weaver will be taken to a safe place.’

  Duggan got to his feet again. ‘I really can’t believe what I’m hearing,’ he said. ‘What the hell is a safe place? We’re not in the armed forces.’

  ‘A safe place,’ said Tillman, ‘is a place where we can question Weaver without interference from outside agencies.’

  Even Colville looked perturbed by that statement.

  ‘I hope you’re not suggesting some form of....’

  ‘Some form of what?’ said Tillman.

  ‘Some form of torture,’ said Duggan.

  Tillman laughed, his chest expanding so his shirt was close to breaking point.

  ‘You AC guys do have a wild sense of humour, don’t you? Who mentioned torture? We’re going to question him without his lawyers present. Weaver’s a sensible man, he’ll understand the need to tell us what we need to know.’

  ‘And if he doesn’t?’ said Duggan.

  ‘He will,’ said Tillman.

  ‘You’re going to go along with this?’ Duggan asked Colville and the rest of the team.

  Colville sat motionless. ‘If it’s the only way to find Caroline, then I’m behind it.’

  ‘And everyone else?’ said Lambert. He looked in turn to Greene and Matilda who both nodded their heads.

  ‘It’s down to you, Duggan,’ said Lambert.

  ‘I can’t believe this is happening,’ said the officer, who looked genuinely flustered. ‘Why are you telling us this anyway? You could have gone ahead and taken Weaver yourselves. Why did I have to know?’

  Lambert remained silent, waiting for the information to sink in. He’d told Duggan and Colville so they had a record.

  ‘What better way to keep things above board,’ said Tillman, breaking the silence, ‘than informing Anti-Corruption?’

  It was a question that had concerned Lambert on odd occasions during his career. If Anti-Corruption were there to monitor the actions of their fellow officers, then who was there to monitor Anti-Corruption?

  Duggan held his arms wide, mimicking Tillman’s earlier gesture. ‘It looks as though I’ve got no choice,’ said the man. ‘But I’d hardly call it above board.’

  ‘What’s the matter with you, Duggan?’ said Lambert, his patience close to breaking point. ‘How long have you been after this group? Four years? We’ve got a fellow officer in dire trouble, close to death; this is our only chance of finding her and you’re moaning about procedure.’

  ‘It’s not procedure, Lambert, as well you know.’

  Lambert walked over. Duggan, who suddenly looked panicked, turning to Colville as though expecting a confrontation. He was correct. Lambert wasted no time and grabbed him by the throat.

  ‘You didn’t see those tunnels,’ he said. ‘You didn’t see those underground rooms. And one more thing you didn’t see, Duggan,’ he said, pressing his fingers tighter against the man’s throat, ‘was the pile of bones.’

  Lambert felt Matilda’s hand rest against his shoulder and relaxed his grip.

  ‘If you jeopardise this in any way then you’ll find out the full extent of what a safe house means,’ said Lambert, letting go of Duggan.

  It was a huge risk that would probably lead to ramifications down the line, but Lambert’s sole focus now was finding the Jardines.

  Duggan coughed and spluttered, adjusted his shirt, and tried to regain composure and respect in the eyes of his fellow officers. He looked around the room and realised he’d failed in every way.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  After assigning duties to the team, Lambert accompanied Tillman back to the NCA headquarters in Central London. Matilda had been disappointed not to be allowed to join them, but Lambert had sent her back to Chislehurst to head up the ongoing investigation with Bickland and Croft. Colville and Duggan had gone back to their respective roles and Greene had returned to Watford for the time being.

  Lambert had promised the four officers to notify them as soon as they had Weaver in their own form of custody. Duggan was adamant any interview with Weaver was recorded, which Lambert supposed was a good idea, at least to begin with. Tillman had already signed off Sinnott sick for the day and no questions had yet been asked. He was being maintained in the same area they would take Weaver, albeit in the sick bay where the medical team were still working on him, monitoring the poison which was slowly leaving his body.

  Silently, Lambert followed Tillman through the NCA building. He’d only been back just over a year, but every time he set foot in the place it felt like entering a prison. He watched his fellow officers battling away at their laptops and on their hands-free headsets. They provided a valuable service and he admired each and every one of them, but he was no longer sure he was part of the team.

  It wasn’t just the Manor that had shaken his faith. It was the corruption he saw on all sides. The number of people he could trust became fewer and fewer each day. And at the moment the chance of finding Carolin
e Jardine alive was diminishing. He could see no foreseeable future in his role.

  Tillman held his office door open for him, then closed it after Lambert walked through the threshold. ‘You know we’re taking a great risk here,’ said Tillman.

  ‘When do we never?’ said Lambert.

  ‘Things have changed, Michael. We’re not in the Group any more. That carte blanche has disappeared.’

  ‘How do you get away with having a holding area then?’ asked Lambert.

  ‘You don’t really need to know, Michael.’

  Lambert didn’t probe any further. He was sure the secure area had something to do with MI5. When he’d been in the Group they’d worked closely with the Intelligence Service and Lambert imagined Tillman still maintained a connection.

  Tillman ran through the plan once more. ‘The replacement driver is in place.’

  DS Alan McCarthy was a name Lambert knew from his time in the Group. He was ex-military, a driving expert.

  ‘Do you think Weaver will put up with a replacement driver, no questions asked?’ said Lambert.

  ‘His driver called in sick this morning,’ said Tillman. ‘Something he ate at the local deli didn’t agree with him so Weaver will already know. McCarthy is well known and respected so I can’t see a problem.’

  Lambert smirked at the resources Tillman had to hand. He reminded himself, once again, never to get on the wrong side of the man.

  ‘The problem will be when McCarthy goes off plan. There’s a switch inside the car which locks the doors. McCarthy will tell Weaver there’s a security risk and suggest they change course.’

  ‘And if Weaver doesn’t buy it?’ asked Lambert.

  ‘Not much he can do save for smashing through the reinforced glass. The doors will be locked and there’s a divider between him and McCarthy.’

  ‘Are you sure this is the only way?’ said Lambert.

  ‘If you have a better idea I’m all ears,’ said Tillman. ‘If we go through normal procedure, it would be days before we get any answers from Weaver, and in all reality we probably never would. You don’t need reminding every minute is precious if we’re going to find Caroline.’