Chapter 32

Reformation

On his wanderings around Liverpool City centre, Thurstan had seen the building before, but never paid it much attention.

Entering, Gallagher piloted him to the lifts. They got out on the seventh floor, as it was explained occupancy ceased three levels below and, anyway, the building was Government owned. A door to the right boldly declared, ‘Warning. Electrical Switchroom. High voltage. Authorised personnel only.’

The swipe of a card and a click, they negotiated the flight of stairs to another security door. Eyeball and fingerprint recognition gave them entry.

Gallagher beckoned a slightly nervous former DCI on. “Welcome to the new headquarters office, Thurstan. C’mon, the crew are waiting and there’s a certain person looking forward to seeing you again. Not everybody’s here at present, we’ve still got people out on the ground on other jobs.”

They entered the open plan main office to applause from the fifteen people gathered there. The greeting was for both – welcoming the new and congratulating the old; for managing to succeed in recruiting the man who they’d been told would be somewhat stubborn, set in his ways yet no follower of unnecessary regulation. Meet the new boss. Same as the old boss. It’s what they wanted and needed. As he looked around, Thurstan recognised the smiling face of Gandalph.

At the far end were three large, windowed offices, only one of which was soundproofed and numbered. Gallagher and Thurstan entered Room 3, the Old Man declaring with a grin as he pushed a button on his desk, smoking the windows, “You could assassinate someone in here and no one would be any the wiser as long as you kept a straight face and didn’t wave your arms around.”

He pointed his colleague to a comfortable seat. “Right, I think you’ve earned some explanations. But first ...” He picked up the phone. “Any chance of a cup of tea in here and some biscuits?” He looked expectantly at Thurstan, an inclination of the head indicating a choice was necessary.

“Have they got any custard creams, John?”

A nod of receipt, then, “He says have you got any custard creams? Smashing. And throw some Hobnobs on the plate as well.”

Sitting down in the other comfy chair, he continued. “You obviously want to know how we did it so ... this is what happened.

“Your colleague, Gandalph phoned another of your boys, a Welshman not surprisingly called Taffy. He went around your neighbours and got CCTV off a few which showed the Inspector in charge of the search going outside, into his car, out with a small package and straight down the side of your house to the garage back door. Of course, we couldn’t see what he did, but it’s obvious.

“I sent a few people up here to Liverpool and they had some words with this Inspector. Shown the evidence, with a little encouragement, he admitted everything, gave us a statement claiming Devilliers blackmailed him into doing it. So then, I had an appointment made under the guise of being from the knighthood committee people.

“Darren and I, you met him the other day on the front in Parkgate, well, we went in to meet the great man and I informed him of the facts, showed him relevant copy documents. The cheeky sod picked the phone up and started to ask his secretary to get someone to escort us out of the building, not realising Thomas, my driver, was guarding her and the door. Darren had to calm him down using a little pressure point here and there after which he was more of a mind to listen to what I had to say.

“I told him about the current state of his vetting which strongly indicates there’s a whole new story to be found in the Caribbean. He was starting to look a bit pale. I told him to withdraw his interest in joining Her Majesty’s Inspectorate of Constabulary because he’s the last person who could be trusted to do such a job and also to resign immediately, spend more time with the family, that sort of thing. When he’d done that, our intriguing information regarding his time on the island drug squad would be conveniently ignored.”

Thurstan sat rubbing his chin. “So ... he still gets a knighthood?”

There was a knock at the door. Tea and biscuits.

“Help yourself, Thurstan,” the Old Man told him. “Yes, the knighthood. You can’t win every game. But it doesn’t necessarily mean you’ve lost either. He can ponce around all those posh eating places and hotels lording it up but if he ever sticks his head above the parapet ...” He dunked a Hobnob. They sat there, almost silent as they sucked the tea from their biscuits and then consumed them.

Gallagher led off the conversation once again. “You won’t find a shortage of volunteers out there in the office for a free fact-finding holiday in a hot, sunny climate. No doubt, you’re thinking of sending a team out to finish the job off and have it available as and when needed. Of course, the height of the parapet can be set by you, we don’t have anything in writing.”

Thurstan nodded sagely, then said, “This Inspector? What’s happening to him? And the rest of the searchers?”

Gallagher smiled widely. “He’ll face a discipline hearing, be dismissed and banned from any law enforcement employment in the future. It turns out the female Sergeant had her suspicions about him for a while but nothing she could hang a hat on. The other two had no idea, just doing their jobs. She called Lizzie and was quite open with her. Then Lizzie called your man Gandalph, who spoke with me.” He saw the look of astonishment on Thurstan’s face at the news she’d had contact all along.

Holding his palms and arms out in a gesture of pacification, he tendered, “Speak to your wife, Thurstan, not my problem but in her defence, it was your bloke who’d kept in touch with her. He was worried about you, as she was.”

He offered up the plate, “Have a Hobnob.”