Undercover by Bill James Page A

for degeneracy. How I’d hate to be unjust to Col!’
    â€˜You’re afraid of him, Desmond, aren’t you?’ Maud replied. ‘Scared of his good sense and solidity, plus an ability to pull women. Why you keep trying to put him down. It’s become an obsession with you, a kind of mental palsy.’
    Iles took a couple of seconds to mull this. Then he said, ‘There might be something in that.’ Astonishingly, the Assistant Chief would occasionally listen to criticism, accept it, without a brain-storm or lip foam. She must have impressed him. ‘Do you feel pulled, Maud? Am I in the way?’ he asked.
    â€˜Who am I to tell an ACC he’s in the way?’ she replied.
    â€˜You’re Maud,’ Iles said. ‘You’re the Home Office. That’s your job – to treat me like an obstruction.’
    â€˜No. We’ve selected you for a very tricky assignment because we think you can do it – with Colin, of course.’
    â€˜Oh, of course,’ Iles said. ‘But you didn’t know I’d pick him.’
    â€˜I hoped you would,’ she said.
    â€˜You
do
feel pulled,’ Iles replied.
    â€˜I’m in a relationship already,’ she said. ‘And so is Colin, as you’ve just explained,’ she said.
    â€˜That kind of thing doesn’t worry, Col, as I’ve also explained. He could fit you in,’ Iles said.
    She looked hard at Harpur for a moment but then seemed deliberately to get the conversation back to work topics.

ELEVEN
    AFTER
    M aud said: ‘From the documents, you’ll have noted two motoring sequences. Ultimately, of course, we have the Volvo. It ferries the supposed assassination group. It waits at the park. There’s a dispute about stay or go. It goes, though without the designated driver; a panic-merchant, instead. Then on the pavement it runs down the three roistering girls, killing two, gets back on to the road and speeds to a vehicle switch.
    â€˜But there’s also an earlier car trip: a disciplinary excursion aimed at a comparatively low-caste member of the firm, Claud Norman Rice, address, twenty-seven Delbert Avenue. Not the Volvo. We’re pretty sure Tom was present for this prior bit of motoring. He might actually have driven the punishment party to and from this pre-Volvo assignment. Jamie Meldon-Luce, the usual Wheels, couldn’t make it. Tom took them to Delbert Avenue and brought them back. The point about Wheels was, he had to be present when his daughter, Carol Jane Letitia Meldon-Luce, aged eight, played Mary Magdalene in a church mini-drama for kids and parents. Jamie’s strong on family, and, I understand, feels fairly OK about churches.
    â€˜It’s true, Tom never mentioned this Rice episode in advance to Howard Lambert, his handler. You’d think something potentially so major would figure in one of their chats. We’re talking about projected severe injuries, at least. But, no, Tom doesn’t make mention. You won’t find any account from Lambert of such a meeting. Or at least Lambert
says
Tom didn’t speak of it. That might be Lambert looking after himself. If he knew of the intended sortie, perhaps he thought he should have done something to prevent it. It’s one of those customary horrible dilemmas in undercover work – pounce now, make one or two arrests, prevent a crime, or wait for the bigger moment, and bigger prey, the recognized objective. Have a glance at a book called
Black Mass
, about the way the FBI in America allegedly let South Boston gang chief James “Whitey” Bulger commit all kinds of deep villainy because he gave them information about other gangs. Incidentally, he’s been located in California lately and charged.
    â€˜A Rice beating up would never get officially reported to the police. He’d rely on paracetamol, first aid and nursing from friends. Perhaps there’d even be a tame, gorgeously-well-paid doctor