‘Peckham? Small world. My brother lives in Peckham, down by...’ Eric trailed off as her glare intensified. ‘Err, right. Risk factors, risk factors... have you ever hurt someone for pleasure?’
‘All the time, but only if they asked.’
‘Ohhkay... how about control?’
‘I’m always in control,’ she said with the hint of a smile. ‘Even when I’m not.’
‘What do you mean?’ Eric asked.
‘The submissive has all the power,’ Almira said. ‘It’s all about consent. I’m only talking to you right now because I want to; ergo, I’m the one in control, even though you’re asking the questions. And right now, you’re not even thinking about how to profile me. My eyes are up here.’
‘Sorry,’ Eric said sheepishly. ‘Doesn’t that dynamic change if you’re under arrest?’
‘Am I under arrest... officer?’
She was clearly enjoying teasing him. He felt his cheeks flush red. ‘Can we be serious for a minute?’
‘Okay,’ she said, pouting her lips. ‘Ask away, Detective.’
‘Have you ever abused alcohol?’
‘Every Friday and Saturday night since I turned eighteen.’
‘Not very observant, then?’ Eric asked.
Her wan smile said it all. ‘Not unless my parents are asking. If they do, I spend my Saturday nights curled up reading the Hadiths.’
‘How does that work?’ Eric said. ‘Isn’t it hard having one persona to show your family, and another for the rest of the world?’
Almira seemed to soften, as if she was surprised that Eric could be so sensitive. ‘It can be exhausting. Family is family, and I’d hate to disappoint them.’
Eric scratched his head. He was running out of questions. ‘On a scale of one to ten, how likely are you to kill someone?’
‘Ten, if you don’t take this seriously. Ask me if I have any childhood trauma.’
‘Did you have a traumatic childhood?’
‘No, but I wouldn’t tell you if I did, would I?’ Almira teased. ‘You’re being too direct. You can’t just outright ask if someone is a murderer. You’ve got to approach it obliquely. You think of yourself as a player, don’t you?’
‘Well...’
Almira ignored his half-protest. ‘Right. So, would you ever go up to a woman and just flat-out ask for sex? Buy me dinner first. Ask me the groundwork questions. You’ve got to make me trust you before you move in for the kill.’
‘How?’
‘Let me show you. Let’s swap. I’ll interview you.’
***
Rafferty pulled off her earpiece and turned to Brodie. ‘Wow. That was downright brutal. Talk about using your feminine wiles to avoid answering any questions. I don’t know if it makes her a great detective, but she’d be a hell of a criminal.’
‘But what was that “the submissive has all the power” bollocks all about, eh?’ Brodie asked. ‘That girl is hiding something there. She’s clearly got a bit of kink in her.’
‘You think?’ Rafferty said. ‘She could just be rebelling against her strict upbringing. It’s the quiet ones you have to worry about.’
‘No, it isn’t, lassie,’ Brodie said. ‘Really the quiet ones are quiet because they’re too thick to string a sentence together.’
‘Ooh, sounds like someone’s been burned.’
‘Nay, I’ve just been around a few times,’ Brodie said.
‘Seriously, though, you reckon either of ‘em did it?’
‘Can’t see why they would have. Being a bit kinky doesn’t mean you want to kill four strangers. I’m not getting a serial killer vibe from any of them.’
‘Oh, yeah?’ Rafferty said. ‘Who else do you think it could be, then?’
Brodie shrugged. ‘How am I supposed to know? You’re the detective.’
‘Think about it, dummy. If it’s not one of the students, there were only two other people in that lecture theatre. If it isn’t them, you’ve just made Bertram Ayala and David Morton suspects number one and two.’
Chapter 30: Danny
‘This is a waste of time,’ Danny Hulme-Whitmore said. ‘Shall we just talk about the Chelsea game on Saturday?’
Villiers shook his head with a smile. ‘I knew you were a blue. You’re so fucking obvious.’
‘Let me guess. Gooner?’
‘Got it,’ Villiers said. ‘Highbury born and raised. I grew up on the legends of Dennis Bergkamp, Marc Overmars, and Thierry Henry, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.’
‘Ever had a box at the Emirates?’
Villiers leant back in his chair. ‘Nah, you?’
‘Yeah, once.’
‘Worth it?’
‘Nah,’ Danny said. ‘It’s soulless, isn’t it? I want to be where the real fans are. The Shed End.’
‘How old are you, anyway?’ Villiers asked.
‘Twenty-nine.’
‘Same. You been a Londoner all your life?’
Danny nodded. ‘Born and raised in the East End, mate. I’m as London as they come.’
‘So, what’s with the posh surname?’ Villiers prodded.
‘Dad was a banker, innit. He knocked up me mam and sodded off. I haven’t seen him since.’
‘Sounds traumatic,’ Villiers said. He scribbled on the notepad on his lap.
‘Nah, it wasn’t all that... Hey! Are you profiling me?’
‘Obviously. That’s the whole point of this.’
‘I thought we hadn’t started!’ Danny protested.
‘Too bad.’
‘What’ve you got so far?’
‘Male, late twenties, broken home, Chelsea supporter. If that doesn’t scream criminal, I don’t know what does,’ Villiers said with a laugh.
Danny’s eyes flashed darkly. ‘You watch your mouth.’
‘Come on, mate, I’m just taking the piss. You know we have to do this, so let’s get it over with, and then we can crack on to the pub for a few pints. How’s that sound?’
‘Fine. But you’re buying.’
‘We’ll see,’ Villiers said, promising nothing. ‘So, did you ever fall in with the wrong crowd?’
‘Naw, me mam raised me right, she did,’ Danny said.
‘How’d you avoid that? Poor kid from the East End, and he didn’t get in trouble? At all?’
‘Well... maybe we did get into a bit of trouble every now and again. Nuffin’ serious-like. Just the occasional bowl, bit of shoplifting.’
‘You are well gangster, mate,’ Villiers said, leaning in conspiratorially. ‘You still enjoy the weed every now and again?’
‘Why? You looking for a hook-up?’
‘Could you sort me out if I were?’
Danny’s eyes shot over to the front of the lecture theatre, where Morton and Ayala were watching. He gave a sly wink. ‘Naw. Definitely not. I ain’t into that sort of fing.’
***
Morton discreetly eavesdropped Danny’s conversation with Kane Villiers. He had assigned each pair a primary observer. Ayala was to watch Maisie and Sully, Rafferty was to watch Almira and Eric, and the Counter Terrorism Command were to watch Rudd and Babbage. That way, all suspects should be equally observed.
It was no surprise to see Danny and Kane chatting freely. They had been sitting together with Sully ever since the first lecture, and the trio had clearly begun to develop a friendship. There was rivalry there, too. None of them knew how many detectives would be taken on from the class, nor, for that matter, did Morton. He liked not knowing. If he had been responsible for picking the new detectives, it would have been much harder to be an impartial teacher and observer.
He had to keep reminding himself that, although there was one bad apple in the group, seven of these young people could go on to glittering careers at the Met.
Kane and Danny’s conversation had started out slow. Kane was obviously playing a clever game, moving a casual conversation on to sensitive topics without Danny noticing until it was too late. It was a pro move, or would have been if it
had worked.
What Morton hadn’t expected was for them to discuss marijuana. He knew Danny had been involved in the prosecution of drug-running gangs while he was with Vice, but the wink Danny gave to Kane at the end suggested this was not all in the past.
Chapter 31: Babbage
Crispin Babbage was paired with the gender non-binary student, Sam, and he had no clue where to start. Sam seemed content to simply sit and wait for him to begin, even though they were supposed to be leading the interview.
‘I’m Crispin. I don’t believe we’ve had the chance to chat before now, have we?’
‘No, we haven’t.’
‘Right. So, you’re supposed to be profiling me.’
‘I am.’ They stared at their mobile phone. The Reddit app was open, and they appeared to be looking at pictures of small animals.
He looked at Sam blankly. ‘Don’t you want to ask me anything?’
‘Nope.’
‘Should I just talk, then?’
‘Nope.’
Frustration began to bubble up inside Crispin. ‘Can I ask why not?’
‘Nope,’ Sam said again.
‘Look here, Sam, I want to pass this class. We can’t just skip an assignment like this. It’s important!’
Sam looked up from their phone briefly. ‘Not being graded, is it?’
‘Well, no, but–’
‘But, I don’t give a fuck. I’m here to prove a point. It doesn’t matter how good I am – and I am better than all of you, and my test scores prove it – I won’t make it through this selection process.’
‘Because you’re gender non-binary?’
Sam finally made eye contact with him. ‘Got there in the end, didn’t we, Mr Teacher’s Pet?’
‘You can’t know that,’ Babbage protested. ‘You got into the training program, didn’t you? One of eight successful applications from among hundreds. That has to say something.’
Crispin withered under the glare Sam gave him.
‘You wouldn’t understand, Babbage.’
‘Try me,’ he said earnestly.
‘You’re a white guy from a wealthy family. You went to Oxford. Everything you’ve ever had, while no doubt hard work, has come to you more easily because of it. You’re living life on easy mode. I don’t blame you for that. Life is a race, and we all have to run it, but you’re running it from halfway to the finish line while the rest of us have to trudge the whole distance.’
Babbage felt himself tear up. He hadn’t asked for any of that. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘You... you what?’
‘I said I’m sorry. No, I haven’t had to deal with what you have. But my life wasn’t easy, either. I bounced around the foster system for years before I became a Babbage. I got handed back so many times, I lost count. Nobody wanted to adopt an older boy.’
‘What happened to your parents?’
‘House fire,’ Crispin said. ‘I was staying with my grandparents that weekend. They died not long after, and then I had nobody. I spent most of my childhood escaping in books, reading and learning, and pretending I was living any other life than my own. I’m not complaining. I just don’t want you to assume I lived some charmed life.’
Sam put down the mobile phone. ‘Well, damn. Now, it’s my turn to apologise. Can we start over?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Hi, I’m Sam.’
‘Crispin.’
Chapter 32: Pincent
Sully and Maisie grabbed a row in the back of the lecture theatre. He was due to interview her, and he was raring to go. He had come prepared with a fill-in-the-blanks profile sheet, a list of talking points, and all the necessary stationery to make notes.
‘This is going be fun,’ he said.
Maisie tilted her head to one side and looked at him curiously. ‘I suppose it is.’
‘Okay,’ Sully said. ‘You ready?’
She grinned wickedly. ‘I’d like to exercise my right to have a lawyer present.’
‘Uh... what?’
‘Lawyer,’ she repeated. ‘Now.’
Sully’s gaze darted from Maisie to the front of the classroom and back again. Surely... she couldn’t? He stood, walked past Maisie, who by now looked like the cat that had got the cream, and stomped down to Detective Inspector Ayala.
‘Sir?’ Sully said. ‘Maisie’s cheating.’
Ayala looked up from his newspaper. ‘What do you mean, she’s cheating?’
‘She said she won’t answer questions without a lawyer present.’
Ayala smirked, impressed by the tactic. ‘How is that cheating?’
He’d seen Pincent’s file. She’d barely passed the psych evaluation. One of her best friends had been shot, and by a police officer, no less. There were questions about her suitability, given the anger that incident ought to have engendered, but in the end her passion for justice had won out and she’d been permitted to join the training program. Ayala thought, and Rafferty had agreed, that it was not their place to second-guess the psych eval team. This sort of lateral thinking was exactly why they needed her in the program: she had what it would take to become a great detective.
‘I’m supposed to be profiling her!’
‘And?’
‘How can I do that while she’s messing about asking for a lawyer?’
Ayala stood up. ‘Isn’t she entitled to a fictional lawyer, if, in this scenario, she’s a fictional suspect?’
‘I suppose.’
‘Then, Bertram Ayala, fictional defence solicitor, at your service.’ Ayala motioned for Sully to lead on.
They walked to the back of the room, where Maisie was waiting. Her eyes narrowed as they approached, as if she somehow knew her gambit was beginning to backfire.
Ayala pretended he had no idea who she was. ‘Good morning. I’m Bertram Ayala, the duty solicitor.’
‘Funny,’ Maisie said.
It was, and Ayala was beginning to enjoy himself, despite the circumstances of the exercise. ‘You started this, now you’re going to finish it. Do you require a solicitor be present or not?’
‘Err, yeah. Have a seat.’
Ayala sat next to his new client and motioned for Sully to begin.
Chapter 33: Rudd
‘Now that we’re friends,’ Crispin said, ‘can I ask a personal question?’ He looked at Sam expectantly.
They looked... strange. They had short hair, wore nondescript clothing, and spoke in a voice that was pitched somewhere between feminine and masculine. It confused Crispin greatly, because he’d never met anyone like them before.
Sam looked at him blankly, as if they knew what was coming. ‘You’re going to anyway.’
‘How does the gender non-binary thing work?’
‘I consider myself agender,’ Sam said. ‘I don’t feel masculine or feminine. I think they’re social constructs designed to limit both genders to a given role.’
‘But, biologically...’
‘Biology doesn’t come into it. It isn’t a question of equipment. Nobody really cares if you pee standing up or sitting down, and, outside of a sexual partner, there is no good reason for it to impact upon how I interact with the world.’
‘But, are you a man or a woman?’
‘Yes,’ Sam said simply, ducking the question.
‘Okay... why the pronouns?’
‘”They” is neutral. It doesn’t have undertones of privilege, ownership, dominance, or submission. It’s a much simpler, fairer way to refer to someone without labelling them.’
Crispin nodded as if he understood.
‘It’s not complicated, Crispin,’ Sam said, exasperated. ‘What I can and cannot do should be judged by merit. I want a fair shot, and the system isn’t set up for that. By refusing to conform, I force people to judge me on what I can do, not what they think my biology dictates.’
‘Then, why the police force? Isn’t it the biggest old boys’ club in London?’ Crispin asked.
‘Now, you’re getting it,’ Sam said. ‘I want to
break that cycle. Every time we see men like Morton promoted above and beyond the women who work with him, we continue to perpetuate the system.’
‘It sounds like you’re arguing for a transfer of privilege. Morton’s the head honcho because he’s got the best closure rate of any detective chief inspector, anywhere, period. If that isn’t a merit-based appointment, what is? And besides, the commissioner of the police is a woman!’
Sam groaned. ‘Token appointments don’t change a thing. She isn’t even actively investigating anything. She’s a bureaucrat, a middle-management type with a swanky office. The real work happens much further down the chain. I want to be a part of that.’
Chapter 34: Villiers
‘So, Kane, what’s your story?’ Danny asked. ‘I shared mine with you. Fair’s fair, mate.’
Kane Villiers rolled his eyes. ‘You’re not very good at this, are you?’
‘Hey, I’m trying to be direct and honest with you. You’re too smart to fall for some sort of trick, so I’ll ask you straight up. If you were me, and you had to interview you, what details would you be asking about? I’m just trying to learn.’
‘I’d ask about my Uncle Greg,’ Kane said.
‘Alright, what happened to your Uncle Greg?’
‘He died. I was sixteen at the time. He was involved in a protest, and some of those he was with turned violent. The police didn’t know who was violent and who wasn’t. They kettled all the protesters, engaged them with riot gear, and Greg was beaten pretty badly. His photo made the front page of The Impartial the next day.’
‘Fuck,’ Danny said. ‘That’s harsh. Sorry, mate.’
Tears were rolling down Kane’s cheeks. ‘It gets worse. They arrested him, chucked him into a holding cell, and neglected to give him food or water. Three days later, the custody sergeant found him dead.’
Danny reflexively reached out to hug him. To his surprise, the younger man hugged him back.
‘Err... sorry. Not sure what came over me, there,’ Danny said. ‘Wanna forget we did that?’
‘Fuck, no,’ Kane said. ‘I like knowing someone gives a shit. I haven’t told anyone outside our family that story before. It feels good.’
The DCI Morton Box Set Page 64
