"What does Whitfield have to say about it?"
"Nothing," said Coghill. "He'd never seen the address book until this morning."
"That's his story, but we know different, don't we?"
"I'm inclined to believe him. I'm not saying he didn't have a shrewd idea what his wife was up to, but he's the sort of weak character who'd prefer to let sleeping dogs lie."
"Then we'll just have to lean on him a bit harder."
"I made a deal with him," Coghill said quietly.
"You'd no right to do that, Inspector."
"If I hadn't, he would never have told me about the deposit box."
"Really? Well, if Mr. Whitfield thinks he's in the clear, he's in for a nasty surprise."
"I gave him my word there would be no comeback."
"Your word is no longer relevant," Tucker informed him curtly and then went into a huddle with Franklin and the deputy assistant commissioner.
Coghill felt his face flush with anger; he tried counting up to ten but it had no effect. The rage was still there, expanding like a balloon about to burst. Slowly and very deliberately, Kingman uncrossed his legs and brought a heavy foot to bear on his toes, warning him to cool it. Moments later, the huddle at the top table broke up.
The outcome was exactly on the lines Rowntree had predicted the day before. Tucker was free to pick their brains and they would end up doing most of the work while all the credit went to the Regional Crime Squad. Listening to Franklin as he outlined the division of responsibilities that were to be observed from now on, Coghill also got the impression that somebody high up had decided the investigation should be contained within strictly defined parameters.
8.
Although he was regarded as cold and ruthless by his colleagues, it was generally conceded that Nicholas Vaudrey would be a hard man to replace as head of K Desk, when he retired at the age of sixty in a year's time. A former paratrooper who had taken part in the D-day landings and the Rhine crossing, he had ended the war as a GS03 (Intelligence) at brigade headquarters and had then deferred his release from the army in order to serve with the 6th Airborne Division in Palestine, where he had worked hand in glove with Special Branch. Demobbed in May 1947, Vaudrey had applied for emergency teacher training at a college in Weymouth, from where he had subsequently obtained a post at St. Edward's English High School at Kuala Lumpur. Barely three months later, following a declaration of a state of emergency by his excellency the governor, he had been back in uniform again, having tendered his resignation to join the Malay Regiment.
One of the first to volunteer for the SAS when the regiment had been reformed in the Far East, he had gained experience in counterinsurgency operations against the Chinese Communists that had led to a permanent regular commission in the Intelligence Corps and a series of similar undercover appointments in Kenya, Cyprus and Aden. Seconded to the Home Office in the wake of the Bogside riots and the reemergence of the IRA, Vaudrey had been an obvious candidate for recruitment when, in 1970, DI5 had been told to establish a special bureau to deal with this new threat.
At the time, nobody had envisaged that he would become the head of K Desk, but it so happened that the officer selected to organize the whole setup had suffered a fatal heart attack only days before the section was due to become operational, and Vaudrey had stepped into his shoes. He brought to the job a wealth of practical experience that few people in DI5 could begin to match, and a shrewd if devious mind. Despite these qualities, however, Vaudrey suffered from an inferiority complex; as the only member of the desk who was not a university graduate, he felt he had to prove his intellectual superiority at every opportunity. Usually, this took the form of a hostile cross-examination whenever one of his subordinates was required to brief him.
Adept at writing comprehensive minutes, Caroline Brooke tried to avoid these
"Nothing," said Coghill. "He'd never seen the address book until this morning."
"That's his story, but we know different, don't we?"
"I'm inclined to believe him. I'm not saying he didn't have a shrewd idea what his wife was up to, but he's the sort of weak character who'd prefer to let sleeping dogs lie."
"Then we'll just have to lean on him a bit harder."
"I made a deal with him," Coghill said quietly.
"You'd no right to do that, Inspector."
"If I hadn't, he would never have told me about the deposit box."
"Really? Well, if Mr. Whitfield thinks he's in the clear, he's in for a nasty surprise."
"I gave him my word there would be no comeback."
"Your word is no longer relevant," Tucker informed him curtly and then went into a huddle with Franklin and the deputy assistant commissioner.
Coghill felt his face flush with anger; he tried counting up to ten but it had no effect. The rage was still there, expanding like a balloon about to burst. Slowly and very deliberately, Kingman uncrossed his legs and brought a heavy foot to bear on his toes, warning him to cool it. Moments later, the huddle at the top table broke up.
The outcome was exactly on the lines Rowntree had predicted the day before. Tucker was free to pick their brains and they would end up doing most of the work while all the credit went to the Regional Crime Squad. Listening to Franklin as he outlined the division of responsibilities that were to be observed from now on, Coghill also got the impression that somebody high up had decided the investigation should be contained within strictly defined parameters.
8.
Although he was regarded as cold and ruthless by his colleagues, it was generally conceded that Nicholas Vaudrey would be a hard man to replace as head of K Desk, when he retired at the age of sixty in a year's time. A former paratrooper who had taken part in the D-day landings and the Rhine crossing, he had ended the war as a GS03 (Intelligence) at brigade headquarters and had then deferred his release from the army in order to serve with the 6th Airborne Division in Palestine, where he had worked hand in glove with Special Branch. Demobbed in May 1947, Vaudrey had applied for emergency teacher training at a college in Weymouth, from where he had subsequently obtained a post at St. Edward's English High School at Kuala Lumpur. Barely three months later, following a declaration of a state of emergency by his excellency the governor, he had been back in uniform again, having tendered his resignation to join the Malay Regiment.
One of the first to volunteer for the SAS when the regiment had been reformed in the Far East, he had gained experience in counterinsurgency operations against the Chinese Communists that had led to a permanent regular commission in the Intelligence Corps and a series of similar undercover appointments in Kenya, Cyprus and Aden. Seconded to the Home Office in the wake of the Bogside riots and the reemergence of the IRA, Vaudrey had been an obvious candidate for recruitment when, in 1970, DI5 had been told to establish a special bureau to deal with this new threat.
At the time, nobody had envisaged that he would become the head of K Desk, but it so happened that the officer selected to organize the whole setup had suffered a fatal heart attack only days before the section was due to become operational, and Vaudrey had stepped into his shoes. He brought to the job a wealth of practical experience that few people in DI5 could begin to match, and a shrewd if devious mind. Despite these qualities, however, Vaudrey suffered from an inferiority complex; as the only member of the desk who was not a university graduate, he felt he had to prove his intellectual superiority at every opportunity. Usually, this took the form of a hostile cross-examination whenever one of his subordinates was required to brief him.
Adept at writing comprehensive minutes, Caroline Brooke tried to avoid these
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