had yet to show. A waiter materialized and promptly topped up the wine – at least they kept it flowing freely, which was something. He gestured for the waiter to fill the glass at the place next to him.
‘Yes, I quite understand the concern – the increasing flow of automatic pistols from the Continent is a problem. God help us if they ever build a tunnel,’ said Sparks airily as he picked up his absent neighbour’s glass and drank heavily. ‘Although we’d be overrun with rabies before anything else.’
While the elderly windbag responded with more drivel, this time about ‘ghastly Europeans’, he glanced across the hall, and there she was, a familiar slender woman in her mid-forties with chestnut hair, elegantly gliding across the room. Sparks drank hastily from his boss’s glass, but Merrydown was in no hurry, stopping at every table to say a few words and bestow her immaculate white smile, which complemented an almost Mediterranean complexion and Roman nose.
Sparks had mixed feelings about his superior. He considered her, in his own words, ‘a ball-breaker of the highest order’, but she was also fiercely intelligent. As a man of average intellect and questionable devotion to his job, these qualities alone should’ve struck the fear of God into him but, on the contrary, he rose to the challenge: the competitor in him was constantly striving to stay one step ahead . . .
‘Ma’am, there you are.’
‘Stephen, sorry I’m late.’
He rose, gesturing obsequiously for her to sit down before retaking his own seat. She eyed the empty glasses. ‘I see you’ve started without me.’ She smiled. ‘I don’t blame you. These things can be rather a bore.’
Sparks apologized and summoned the waiter to refill the glasses once more.
‘Now, then.’ She again smiled that immaculate white smile. Her dark kohl eyeliner seemed too exotic by far for the police, let alone for Chelmsford town hall. ‘What’s been going on?’
‘Nothing, ma’am. Nothing to worry about.’
‘That’s not what my spies tell me.’
‘Spies?’
‘Colchester is an important town. The military are, as you know, regarded as heroes. I hope the accident in Castle Park is not going to present problems.’
‘Certainly not, ma’am. I know how to handle the military.’
‘Yes, I’m aware of that – but there’s more to good relations than boxing bouts.’
Her dismissive tone confirmed to Sparks that she had no idea what she was talking about.
‘Of course there is, ma’am; but it’s a different world to . . .’ He gesticulated towards the candlelit hall.
‘Oh, yes, I don’t doubt that, out there in the boondocks, it’s very different.’ She raised her glass. ‘Cheers.’
‘Cheers.’
‘But although it’s the back of beyond, I see your annual crime stats still managed to make it to County. I appreciate the prompt filing.’
‘We are nothing if not ruthlessly efficient. Must be our military neighbours rubbing off on us,’ he joked.
‘Indeed, but if only you were as successful at policing as they are at fighting wars.’ She took a sip from her glass. ‘Your clean-up record for 1982 is the worst in the county.’
10.30 p.m., Queen Street HQ
Lowry was at Queen Street inside twenty minutes. Though Matthew was now awake, it was quicker to carry him down to the cells, as he’d done for many years. He acknowledged the duty PC at the far end, who nodded towards the cell adjacent to him. Protocol dictated that the furthest cells were always kept empty the longest, for reasons Lowry couldn’t recall, other than it enabled the night shift to doze in peace. And, for that reason, Matthew would more than likely be able to sleep, too.
He pulled back the coarse-woven coverlet on the low cell bed and lay the boy down, covering him with his own blanket before doubling up with the blanket there. (It got cold down here, Lowry knew.)
‘Don’t know when I’ll be back,’ he said to the PC, taking one of his
‘Yes, I quite understand the concern – the increasing flow of automatic pistols from the Continent is a problem. God help us if they ever build a tunnel,’ said Sparks airily as he picked up his absent neighbour’s glass and drank heavily. ‘Although we’d be overrun with rabies before anything else.’
While the elderly windbag responded with more drivel, this time about ‘ghastly Europeans’, he glanced across the hall, and there she was, a familiar slender woman in her mid-forties with chestnut hair, elegantly gliding across the room. Sparks drank hastily from his boss’s glass, but Merrydown was in no hurry, stopping at every table to say a few words and bestow her immaculate white smile, which complemented an almost Mediterranean complexion and Roman nose.
Sparks had mixed feelings about his superior. He considered her, in his own words, ‘a ball-breaker of the highest order’, but she was also fiercely intelligent. As a man of average intellect and questionable devotion to his job, these qualities alone should’ve struck the fear of God into him but, on the contrary, he rose to the challenge: the competitor in him was constantly striving to stay one step ahead . . .
‘Ma’am, there you are.’
‘Stephen, sorry I’m late.’
He rose, gesturing obsequiously for her to sit down before retaking his own seat. She eyed the empty glasses. ‘I see you’ve started without me.’ She smiled. ‘I don’t blame you. These things can be rather a bore.’
Sparks apologized and summoned the waiter to refill the glasses once more.
‘Now, then.’ She again smiled that immaculate white smile. Her dark kohl eyeliner seemed too exotic by far for the police, let alone for Chelmsford town hall. ‘What’s been going on?’
‘Nothing, ma’am. Nothing to worry about.’
‘That’s not what my spies tell me.’
‘Spies?’
‘Colchester is an important town. The military are, as you know, regarded as heroes. I hope the accident in Castle Park is not going to present problems.’
‘Certainly not, ma’am. I know how to handle the military.’
‘Yes, I’m aware of that – but there’s more to good relations than boxing bouts.’
Her dismissive tone confirmed to Sparks that she had no idea what she was talking about.
‘Of course there is, ma’am; but it’s a different world to . . .’ He gesticulated towards the candlelit hall.
‘Oh, yes, I don’t doubt that, out there in the boondocks, it’s very different.’ She raised her glass. ‘Cheers.’
‘Cheers.’
‘But although it’s the back of beyond, I see your annual crime stats still managed to make it to County. I appreciate the prompt filing.’
‘We are nothing if not ruthlessly efficient. Must be our military neighbours rubbing off on us,’ he joked.
‘Indeed, but if only you were as successful at policing as they are at fighting wars.’ She took a sip from her glass. ‘Your clean-up record for 1982 is the worst in the county.’
10.30 p.m., Queen Street HQ
Lowry was at Queen Street inside twenty minutes. Though Matthew was now awake, it was quicker to carry him down to the cells, as he’d done for many years. He acknowledged the duty PC at the far end, who nodded towards the cell adjacent to him. Protocol dictated that the furthest cells were always kept empty the longest, for reasons Lowry couldn’t recall, other than it enabled the night shift to doze in peace. And, for that reason, Matthew would more than likely be able to sleep, too.
He pulled back the coarse-woven coverlet on the low cell bed and lay the boy down, covering him with his own blanket before doubling up with the blanket there. (It got cold down here, Lowry knew.)
‘Don’t know when I’ll be back,’ he said to the PC, taking one of his
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