CHAPTER 24
We left the CID and firearms boys at the Central nick after quickly putting together our statements. We may have been there to ‘observe’, but what we had observed still had to be noted.

Sammy met us in James Street, which was unusual.

“What are you doing in on a Sunday, Sammy?”

He grinned, as was his way.

“Bev Williams is in as well. Bloody good result, and he wants a word. A nice one, I believe”

The grin dropped into a smile.

“And I have pastoral duties, sort of. Jon? Mind if we have a quick chat?”

My boy looked over at Lexie and me.

“Lexie? Want to wait for us in the Greasy? Ta. Sammy? I suspect I know what you want a chat about, so could Di stay with us?”

Sammy nodded, leading the way to an interview room. Once sat down, he turned to me, smile still in place, but a soft and gentle one.

“Di, mate, this is a necessary thing here. Personal stuff with Jon, so if you would rather not hear it, you can walk out any time. Nothing to worry about; I just need to do the manager bit. Are you fine with that?”

I looked over at Jon, and he just nodded at me, so I turned back to Sammy and gave him a ‘go on’ signal. He switched his gaze to Jon but carried on talking to me.

“Di, mate. This boy has been worrying me. I call him fresh meat, and he is, and that’s the problem. I am not belittling what happened to you, and I only mention it now because the team was so involved in it, but you had a taste of how shitty the world can be before you even started. Jon here is VERY fresh meat, though I think Rhys might describe him as game and well hu--- no. Too cheeky, that one, and I have to be serious.

“Son, I was watching what that last case did to you. Keep your mouth shut for a minute, Di, but I suspect he was thinking of chucking the job in, and that would be a crying shame. Am I right, Jon?”

My boy was looking at the table, and without raising his eyes simply nodded.

Sammy shook his head, and sighed.

“Just like bloody Adam Price, you are. Annie. Shit; still can’t get my head around that business, but never mind. Adam, Annie, bloody good copper, fucking good human being. That gong she got is well overdue, aye? She’s not like you, DC Sutton, and don’t take that the wrong way”

He looked back at me, smile gone.

“You are one hard woman when you need to be. Elaine told me how you tore up hubby for arse paper almost on the first day, and Annie never had that. Both of you, all three of you, you care, and you are honest and open about it, and that is beyond price in this job”

Jon looked up at that.

“Yeah, but I can’t do the heavy stuff, can I?”

Sammy threw his hands up.

“Jesus fucking Christ on a crutch, son! You not know I listened to your interview of that piece of fucking shit Cooper? Sorry. Language, but, well, piss off! He tried to get friendly with you, right at the start, and you ripped him a new arsehoile. Bang!”

He took a few deep breaths, centring himself.

“Sorry, you two. This was meant to be a gentle chat, but I have had very little sleep because I have been waiting to hear how this morning’s job went. I wasn’t worried about the girl, because I knew Harry and Di would make sure she was kept on a leash, well out of the way. I WAS worried about you, son, and that is why I wanted you along on this one. See some classic scum rather than nothing but nonces and rapists”

He paused for some more slow, calming breaths.

“Jon, Di understands, I think, where we are at the moment. You have been thinking of jacking the job in, thinking you aren’t up to it, and I am here to tell you before you say anything to the Super or anyone else: I do not want you to do that. I want you on my team. I want people around me who care about what they do, who recognise they are dealing with human beings who can be hurt, rather than pieces of evidence. That is the danger in this cold case game, that we forget why we are employed, what the Job should be about. If it hurts, it shows you have the right sort of feelings”

Jon tried to smile.

“Yeah, but this job was Di’s. she’s the one who broke it”

Sammy nodded.

“Yeah, she did. That’s part of her talent. Who was it who sat up all night and took on the leg work, though? We are a team, son. We all have things the team can use, things it needs. We need you”

Another pause, and then the grin resurfaced.

“Besides, Rhys would pine, and he’d have to pay for all his commuting again”

Jon blushed, as Sammy had intended, and Sammy reached over the table to take his hand.

“Stay with us, mate. We need you. Now: the Super is meeting us in the Greasy, so if you don’t mind I would like a quick yea or nay from you, Jon. You sticking with us?”

Jon looked up, eyes sparkling just a little.

“Yeah, suppose so. Be rude not to. While I’m here, I will let you know that the two of us are looking to make it formal. Looking to do a Blake and Di. No date yet, but, well, I am up for it and so is he, and Sammy: shut it before you say what I know you want to”

I looked over at my no-longer-fresh meat, raising my eyebrows, Mam-style.

“And you are OK, Jon? Really OK?”

He shook his head from side to side, Indian-style, and Sammy snorted.

“Ah, I think so. Bowles threw me, and then that shit Cooper. You know how that made me feel. Sammy’s right, though. I look at the Elliott family, Brian Dennahy as well, yeah? I just wish I had their strength”

Sammy squeezed his hand.

“You have, son. You just need to realise that fact. Now, Bev will be waiting. Dry your eyes, son, and do you want a dog roll or a bacon one?”

We all stood up, and Sammy stepped forward to hug Jon, then offered the same to me, which I gratefully accepted. I had been so lucky in my managers since day one, and there was no way I would let petty rules get in the way of our bonds. The Greasy turned out to be almost empty, in that odd gap between the breakfast and the I-can’t-quite-wait-for-lunchtime crowds. Williams was sitting at a table with Lexie, and some very clear but unspoken signals flicked from him to Sammy and back. It turned out that the sensible woman had already arranged a plate of dog and bacon rolls for us, but she was busy enough getting outside a couple of slices of cheese on toast. Sammy grabbed a round of teas as I mused on the unhealthy nature of our diet, Mummy bellies and swimming costumes.

The cuppa didn’t touch the sides, and Sammy sighed happily as he finished his own.

“Elaine Powell set us up with an urn, sir. Absolute godsend on a heavy job. Anyway, told this lot you were pleased with the results and that you were too impatient to wait till Monday to tell them so”

The Super grinned. “Cheeky as you are, Harry still beat you to it. Do we have a lead yet on who the other crew were? Be nice to make a clean sweep of it”

Sammy waved his mug at Lexie, and she smiled and went to get another round of brews.

“Inspector Gadget and his henchman are on their way over. SOCO, Di. Same two lads as did all that work over to the Crossways place”

I found myself grinning at the memory. If anyone’s mind worked along the same odd track mine was supposed to, it was those two lads. Well, those two and the LIO, of course, but if I ever found myself acting like the Local Intelligence Officer with his catalogue of Other Distinguishing Features, the last distinction I would make in the Job would be my early departure while still in possession of a personality.

It was as relaxed a session as it could be, given the weight of brass on one of the chairs, and we broke up after the second round of teas, each heading off to their own more normal Sunday activities, which in my case would have meant a nap but ended up as a sort of animate trampoline for a rather hyper infant.

I still wouldn’t have swapped him for anything, though; not for the world and all its riches.

Two weeks later, and without our presence as observers, Harry and his boys, backed up once more by dogs and firearms team, hit four addresses at once, including a nail bar in Bridgend that was actually next door to one of the bookies the first gang had robbed. Sixteen arrests, ye gods. My head was spinning, and almost took flight as Ellen explained how and why the case now involved Vietnamese interpreters and the Border Force’s Modern Slavery team.

I found myself, just for once, sharing Jon’s little boat, disgusted by the whole nature of what we were dealing with. Cardiff had never had the notoriety of Bristol as a slave port, but the city’s incredibly diverse community still had a lot of wounds, sensitive places, and one of the nastiest was that S-word. Ellen didn’t need to spell it out, but she did, and I realised that she too needed to purge her distaste.

“Yeah, Di, they come in on tourist visas, Chinese and Vietnamese mostly, and they’ve paid up front to get over here. Traffickers say they’ll have a job, so they just disappear after passports, and then it’s the same old same old. Their passports are taken off them, and whatever [ay they were promised is taken straight back for accommodation and food charges. Sleep eight or nine to a room, yeah? Work a whacky farm in some house with jury-rigged wiring, or in one of those nail bars, or if they’re really unlucky they pick cockles on some death-trap of a tidal mud flat”

She cocked her head, then turned away from me to look out of the window, voice hushed almost to a whisper.

“Or they end up like that Paula, yeah? Or worse. I think that was what they were planning for little Tiffany, Charlie…”

Her voice trailed off and then, still looking away from me, she spoke again.

“I am just glad we have people around us here who bloody well care, girl. Thank you for talking that silly little boy into staying with us. I couldn’t work with people who don’t understand priorities”

She shook herself, turned back to me, and grinned.

“Anyway, got this evening planned out. Bottle of big red—or is that a big bottle of red? Anyway, pizza, wine, soppy video”

Her grin widened.

“And if it goes well, I won’t get to see any of the video at all!”

“Uh? Oh!”

“Yup! Drinking alone is dangerous, so I will have company”