Roberta’s mind was not really on her family-related duties even though it was the anniversary of her mother’s passing. She was a crack shot and had been close to representing the country at the Olympics so in her honour, a clay pigeon shoot in aid of charity was held every year.

While she was there in body, her mind kept thinking about the data that Leroy James had presented her with on Friday.

Over an early dinner Saturday evening, her father smiled and said,
“Ok darling, what is distracting you so much that you only hit one clay out of twenty today? Everyone noticed that you were off your game. One of the clients even suggested that you might be pregnant…”

His attempt at a joke fell flat on its face.

“Sorry about being a pain today, Dad. I received some disturbing information from an informant on my way down here on Friday. Please don’t ask me to share it as it involves a couple very bent officers at my nick.”

Her father smiled.
“I’m guessing that you are wondering what you should do about it as this information involves someone in your nick and whom are your superiors? And… that you are unsure if their bosses are in on the act as well?”

Roberta smiled back at her father. That was the only answer that she was prepared to give.
“Something like that. I don’t know who I can trust.”

“Then go above them and direct to AC-12. You might be surprised at what they have to say. You already know Chief Super Monahan, don’t you?”

Then he put his hand on his chin. That was a sign of her father thinking… hard.

“I’m guessing here that at least one of the officers involved was responsible for blocking that commendation?”

Roberta shook her head.
“The commendation that I didn’t want… but please dad, I need to handle this myself, ok?”

“Ok, I’ll not mention it again but if I can help in any way, you know where I am even if it is just to drop a hint or two to the right departments of the government.”

He smiled before adding,
“Just remember that if you get mired in officialdom, ask yourself, what your mother would do?”

Roberta smiled.
“I know, divert around the problem. Bypass the snakes in the grass and approach the problem from a different direction.”

“Good. Now get back to London and formulate your plan of campaign. When is your next rest day?”

“Thursday… why?”

“Bide your time. Watch and listen. Play them at their game. Don’t make waves. Don’t do anything with AC-12 until Thursday at the earliest. Then you will have less chance of jumping to the wrong conclusion.”

“I know all that.”

“Do your immediate bosses know about your meeting with this informant?”

“Only in vague terms. All they know is that my informant requested a meet on Friday. They don’t know where the meet was due to take place or why. I made sure that I wasn’t followed. But I do have to report to my Chief Inspector and Inspector about the meeting.”

“Then my dear, it is clear to me that you will need to concoct a story about the meeting. It has to be believable enough to keep them from suspecting your real plan.”

Then he looked at the clock.
“Get your things and I’ll run you to the station. We should just be in time to get you home this side of midnight. You are due back on duty tomorrow morning, aren’t you? Then get to that new flat of yours and try to get at least some sleep. Otherwise, we’d both have to be up at the crack of dawn for me to take you home. At least this way, I can sleep in a bit.”

He grinned at Roberta. She was still thinking… hard.

“And I still have to write a report on my meeting for Monday.”

“Then you will have plenty of time while on duty tomorrow to get your story straight and true, unlike your aim today.”

Roberta laughed before disappearing to get her overnight bag.

[Sunday Morning]
“Ok, PC Galbraith. Something is on your mind. You nearly went down a one-way street just now, the wrong way…”

Her partner for the day, Sergeant Freeman had alerted her at the last minute. Sergeant Hill was away on a day's leave as his granddaughter was being Christened in Chelmsford.

“Sorry Sir. I was trying to work out what to put in my report to the Chief about my meeting with an informant on Friday.”

He looked at Roberta and nodded his head.
“I take it that it was a bust?”

“Almost. The informant had information on the car ringing gang that we busted last month. Most of it was already known to us. All he gave me, was one new name.”

“So? Just say that and add in what he told you. It is for others to make the judgement calls not us foot-soldiers.”

“I know all that but it won’t satisfy Sergeant Hill. I put his nose well out of joint by showing the email from the Chief Super authorising me to leave early on Friday.”

Sergeant Freeman laughed.
“Sergeant Hill is an idiot but don’t quote me on that. How he got his stripes is still a mystery to many in the Met. His bark is far worse than his bite.”

Roberta shook her head.
“You aren’t down to be on patrol with him all week starting tomorrow.”

“Keep your head down and you will be fine.”

“That’s easy for you to say that, Sarge.”

“Grin and bear it Roberta. It isn’t your fault that he hates women officers. To him, women should be in the home raising children. How he squares that up with our ultimate boss being a woman is between him and his maker. Personally, I think that he’d glass her if he had a chance. The word, ‘Neanderthal’ is often used to describe him, but please don’t quote me on that.”

Roberta sighed.

“Why the big sigh?”

“I seem to get paired up with them and their ilk wherever I go. Before coming here, I was in Colindale with Sergeant Green.”

“Ouch! I see where you are coming from. He was just like our own Sergeant Hill.”

Roberta remained in deep thought for the rest of the patrol. She still had the report to write and that was not going away. Sergeant Freeman, to his credit, did not pester Roberta any more during the rest of the shift.

[Monday morning]
“Constable Galbraith!” said the Chief Inspector.
“My office now!”

Roberta went off to face the inevitable dressing down from the Chief.

“Close the door behind you,” said the Chief.

She did that and stood in front of his desk.

“This is an interesting report, Constable. Interesting for what it does not say. Am I right?”

“Sir?...”

The Chief managed a smile.

“Am I right in guessing that something happened in that meeting that you can’t divulge at least yet?”

“Sir… I am sorry but I gave my word to the informant whom I have to protect. There are bigger things at stake. My problem is that I don’t know what to do with that information at the moment.”

That was a lie. She did know what to do.

“Then sleep on it until you are good and ready. My door is always open. What you are experiencing is exactly what most officers go through at least once in their career. There are times when you have information that feels like it wants to tear you apart.”

“Thanks Sir. I will take that advice and sleep on it.”

“Please let it be known to Sergeant Hill that I tore you off a strip for not providing a report about the meeting with your informant. Tell him that there was nothing to report as they didn’t show up.”

Roberta managed a small smile.
“Thank you, sir.”

As she went to leave his office the Chief said,
“You did not deserve to be kicked out of CID. I read the case files. It was your diligence, creative thinking and downright stubbornness, that allowed us to solve the case, when others would have given up. What I’m trying to say is, if you want to transfer out of this nick then I won’t stand in your way.”

“Thank you, sir but I’m not ready to throw in the towel just yet. As you know, I did put in for a transfer but it was rejected out of hand by the Chief Super on the recommendation of the DCI. If I request another transfer so soon and it gets rejected, it will go down on my record as a black mark. I don’t want that to happen.”

She left him with a smile on his face. He wished that he had ten more like her under his command. Her approach to problem-solving was so different from any officer that he’d ever met, but it worked and for that he was thankful. Going by the book was not in her vocabulary. If anything, she was writing a brand-new book on crime solving. He could see little bits of several fictional detectives in her work. Holmes, Morse and even a bit of Columbo all mixed up and transported to the 21st Century. Her reports indicated something different in the way she looked at a crime and her approach to solving it had so far, worked a treat. What it was that she had, he could not put his finger on but that old cliché came to mind. 'If she could bottle whatever it was that she had, then she'd be a very wealthy person'.

[The following Thursday]

Roberta headed into the city after another restless night but she had finally decided what to do with the information she had received from Leroy James. As it was her day off, she’d let it be known that she was going to meet an old school friend for lunch. She was deliberately vague about where it was apart from somewhere in central London.

In reality, the lunch was to be with her father. He would want to know what she’d decided to do about involving AC-12. He was actually present in the House of Lords all day, but that was not for general circulation amongst her fellow officers. If they discovered who she really was then there would be a lot of trouble heading her way.

But… first, she had a meeting to go to and she didn’t want anyone following her.

Bank tube station is a great place to lose a tail. Its location when combined with the adjacent Monument station, has nearly twenty exits to the street as well as four tube lines, the Docklands Light Railway and last but not least, the Waterloo and City Line all intersecting in one place. Plus, it is always busy during the working day.

After arriving on the Central Line, Roberta went down to the DLR platforms but then she took the escalator up to the Northern Line followed by the travelator down to the Waterloo and City Line. She was just in time to get on a train before it departed. Anyone tailing her would be unable to follow her for at least a few minutes. By which time, she could be on a train to more than fifty destinations.

At Waterloo Station, she transferred to the Jubilee Line and travelled just one stop to Westminster. Her destination was an anonymous office block close to the old London Transport HQ at St James’s Park. This was one of AC-12’s main offices. AC-12 is the department whose job it was to bring corrupt cops to justice. The people who work there are not popular with the rest of the force for obvious reasons.

The previous day, her father’s secretary had arranged through some very discreet back channels a meeting between her and Superintendent Mark Wilson. He worked for the same Chief Super that she’d met at Westminster Hall.

“Please come in and take a seat Constable,” said the Super.

“Thank you, sir.”

“I have read your file. In the short time that you have been in the force, you have certainly made an impact, yet you are still in uniform?”

“Sir, I was in CID but following my work to bust the art gang, I evidently put more than a few noses out of joint. That was compounded by the possible commendation from the Chief for that work which didn’t go down well with my DCI. So back to uniform it was.”

He looked up from her file and said,
“I hope what you are bringing me is not in the hope of getting revenge?”

“No Sir. I am not like that at all. I didn’t want the commendation and I told the commissioner in my letter to her.”

“Constable, that must have taken guts, but the way that you did it did not offend anyone. Rather the opposite if what I have been told off the record.”

“Sir, I just want to learn the ropes and be a good officer. I just happened to know a lot about art and… well, I was in the right place at the right time. What I have for you is very different, but just as important.”

He smiled.

“First off, please tell me how you came into possession of this information.”

“Sir, I have been able for some strange reason been able to develop a bit of a working relationship with a leader of a local street gang. They control the drug trade on the Broadwater Farm estate and you know what that means to the force. By control, they do their best to keep hard drugs out and they make sure that what is sold is not bad stuff. The last thing they want is for a load of their clients to die from bad smack. That would result in a vastly increased police presence which would not solve anything other than providing a sound bite for a politician. The result is an uneasy truce. They keep bad smack out and therefore overdoses down to a very low level and we don’t go in heavy handed like we did once before.”

The Superintendent smiled.
“That is a very good assessment of the situation. I spent some time at your nick as a Chief Inspector not long after those very nasty riots. Keeping our distance and softly-softly policing is not to everyone’s cup of tea, but we all saw how going in strong ended. We don’t want a repeat of those dark days. Having a truce of sorts with the gang running drugs into the ‘Farm’ is about as good as it is likely to get.”

He looked Roberta right in the eye.
“I take it that this information came from the gang leader himself?”

“Yes sir, it did. He requested a meeting because of the impending import of some really bad smack onto his turf and that at least one officer from my nick is involved.”

The Super smiled. Roberta was sure that he was thinking ‘now we can get down to business’.

“This is what he gave me.”

She passed over the photos.

Before the Superintendent looked at them, he asked.
“Could these have been doctored?”

“I looked at them with a magnifying glass and I could not detect anything untoward.”

“Good.”

Then he looked at the photos. He spent at least twenty seconds on each one.

“I know where some of these were taken. Whoever did it was good. Good, in that they didn’t get seen especially given the low light levels when some of these were taken.”

When he was done, he put them down.
“So, what’s the story behind them?”

“Sir, my informant said that his crew had got wind of an operation to oust him and his crew by selling a load of bad smack on the estate and blaming him. He said that his sources indicated that the smack would be cut with almost pure Fentanyl and Ketamine. The result would be highly addictive and very dangerous. The death toll would mount very quickly and an operation to root out the current gang would be hard to refuse. Once they are out of the way, the new lot could move in and peddle this lethal stuff.”

“I agree with that description. Who are the officers involved?”

“Sir, before I give names, can you look at the picture of the interior. It was the first image.”

“Ok, so what is so interesting about this.”

“Those two prints on the wall are sketches by Da Vinci himself and were reported stolen from a collection in the Bordeaux region of France almost five years ago. If they are the originals then where did the money come from for their purchase. Because of my knowledge of art, I know that they were sold at auction in 2001 for well over seventy-five thousand euros each. That auction was run by a top Auction House in Paris. My family had a single work in the same auction so I am sure that somewhere at home, there is a copy of the auction catalogue if it is needed.”

She took a deep breath and continued.
“While the price of art sold at auction so long ago is no guarantee of their current value but, it is an indication. Over the weekend, I used a contact to check on the all of the major art auction sites. They reported there have been no copies of these two sketches on the market since the end of WW2.”

“This checking, could it be traced back to you?”

“No sir, but my informant told me that the two officers that I suspect of being involved with this new drug trade were also running point for the Art Smuggling gang. With them banged up waiting for trial, these two may well be in need of funds to continue to fund their lifestyle. Hence their willingness to tie up with the new drug gang. This photo is of the interior of one of their homes. For obvious reasons, it was taken during the execution of a crime and without the right guarantees, it can’t be used in evidence unless something else takes us to the home.”

“That is some leap of faith Constable. I hope that it is more than just a feeling?”

“No sir it isn’t. If you read the second report that I wrote for the NCA about the murder of the art dealer, I did mention that there was a high probability of someone in the Met running point for the gang. Certain officers were making sure that the SOCO teams that were deployed to the crime scene that I was investigating, were always pulled off to work on another case before they had completed their work. While that is clearly circumstantial more than one of the SOCO team told me that these so called ‘Top Priority Cases’ were hardly worth them attending. That’s probably why they never discovered the video recorder or the fake pallets. It was down to me to find them.”

“That does make sense, but I will make sure that I read that report. I have to admit that in the few minutes that you have been here, I can see that you look at the world in a very different way to almost everyone else I have ever met.”

Roberta didn’t react.

“Who then?” he said pointing at the photo of the sketches.
“Who was the contact that gave you the information? Who took the photos?”

“Sir, if I were to tell you the name of the officer my informant fingered, then my whole career in the force could be at jeopardy. I can say that the searching was not done in London or even in this country. I have no idea who took the image but I did recommend that they engage the services of a solicitor who specialises in criminal cases to represent them”

“Ok, just how did you know what to look for?”

“Sir, I know where three more of the sketches in this series are located. They are on the walls of a Chateau in the Bordeaux region of France.”

“Ah… Hence your knowledge of art then?”
“Something like that.”
Then Roberta said,
“Sir, those three sketches have been in the ownership of my family for over three hundred years, but that is not for general release if you know what I mean.”

“This informant of yours just happened to know this?”

“No sir, because of the publicity around the art case, an ‘unknown’ officer at Tottenham nick had played a crucial role in helping to bring the case to a head. That officer as you know, was me. It was my childhood in that part of the world that allowed us to identify and later arrest Antoine de Scudery. The two sketches in these photos were stolen from a Chateau on the banks of the river Gironde. We, as in my family, had a couple of bad harvests due to some late frosts in 2005/06 and we sold two prints to the owners of this Chateau to cover those losses. We had only purchased those specific prints a few years earlier in order to complete the collection. We sold them with the understanding that we’d get first refusal if they ever decided to sell but the thieves stole them before our finances had recovered enough to buy them back.”

“The new owners grew a different grape variety as they produce Sauterne wines. Those grape varieties flower later than the Chardonnay grape and were not affected by the frosts. That is how I know about those sketches. No one else knows about this theory of mine. Plus, very few people outside of the Bordeaux region know about the thefts. We don’t talk about the art that we own for obvious reasons.”

“Ok, so this officer has a lot of unexplained income. Are you implying that it is from art smuggling and now, drug trafficking?”

“The art smuggling ended with the arrest of Antoine de Scudery or at least in it’s original form.”

“That is a good point, please continue.”

“Sir, when I tell you his name, I am sure that a few bells will ring. His most recent posting before Tottenham was in Brixton. While he was there, the drug wars exploded as I am sure that you are well aware. There were many deaths from the sale of drugs being laced with very dangerous chemicals.”

“Detective Chief Inspector Barnes is the officer in question. Plus, Sergeant Hill seems to be involved as well. Sgt Hill did not want me to attend my meeting with the informant. He tried his hardest to stop me from going, but I had orders in writing from the Chief Super.”

“This is all very interesting and does deserve further investigation.”

“Sir… I sense a but coming?”

He managed a small smile.
“I was about to say, ‘but do not expect results overnight’.”

Roberta shook her head.
“If this bad smack hits the estate, then who knows what will happen? The riots from last time may pall into insignificance. I fully expect that DCI Barnes will make the place unstable and then move on, rinse and repeat.”

“What is his financial motive for all this? That’s what I don’t get?”

“Sir, I am of the opinion that he is just the advance party for something a lot worse. At the moment, the Farm seems to be pretty quiet and most of those at the nick, like that. A lot of that is down to my informant and his crew. Remove them from the equation and who will move in? You can choose between the Russians, Serbians, Albanians, the Jamacians and even the Turks from Green Lanes who are well known to have a direct line to the supply of Afghan Heroin. The market for anything and everything from a bit of weed to very bad Fentanyl, will be wide open for the new players to exploit.”

The Super looked at the photos again.
“PC Galbraith, you are wasted in the Force. You should be a politician.”

Roberta smiled.
“One in the family is enough. Don’t bother to search for them as they go by a very different name to mine.”

“At the very least, you should be in CID. I can see from just our short time together, that you have a good brain and look at the world in ways that most people would find strange. That is probably why you were drummed out of CID. One or two of your immediate superiors probably thought that you were a threat to their cozy jobs.”

“Sir, that is your opinion and one that I could not possibly comment on.”

He laughed.
“What did I say about a politician?”

“I will make sure that this issue is investigated with some urgency. Your prediction about open warfare is well founded and something that we all want to avoid.”

“Thank you, sir. That is all I can ask.”

Roberta left the meeting feeling not only unclean but slightly worried. AC-12 were not known for working fast. The feeling of being unclean was because most officers only became involved with AC-12 when they were themselves under investigation.

She was about to cross over Victoria Street near St James’ Park tube station when a voice from behind her said,

“Snitching on your fellow officers then Galbraith? That won’t go down well with the troops in N17.”

She turned to find Sergeant Hill standing behind her with his arms crossed and a smug grin on his face.

[to be continued]

Sergeant Hill had spotted Roberta leaving the HQ of AC-12 and challenged her.
He didn’t wait for her to respond to his original accusation.

“I have good reason to spy on a good for nothing snitch like you. Who are you dobbing in this week then?”

“I’m not dobbing anyone in this week, as you put it. My name was mentioned in a case that AC-12 are investigating. I was giving them my statement. That statement by the way had nothing to do with anyone at our nick. It is related to a case from my time at Colindale. My first sergeant was a total prick who hated women. He had it out with a visiting DCI who happened to be female. She took offence at the insults he was throwing at her hence my visiting AC-12 on my day off.”

“Bollocks. That is a complete lie.”

“Ok, believe what you want. I have a lunch engagement and you are not invited.”

Roberta turned away and instead of taking the tube, she walked towards the Palace of Westminster. The Sergeant followed her at a distance. She knew then that this was not going to end well for the Sergeant. She made a phone call.

“Hi Dad.”

“Yes, I’m done with them for today, but I have a little weasel on my tail.”

“So, I was wondering if Jayne would like to take me to lunch as you cried off earlier?”

“The weasel following me is a very bent Sergeant from my nick I need to get rid of the tail and I thought about Jayne. And no, I don’t have my pass with me. That is kept under lock and key at home.”

“Thanks Dad. I’m close to the security entrance right now. I’ll give Jayne a call when I’ve got rid of my tail and I’m in Westminster Hall.”

“Yes Dad, I will take care.”

With that settled, Roberta stopped and turned to face the Sergeant who had been following her about fifteen metres behind her.

“I did say that I have a lunch engagement. Well, that engagement which I just confirmed with that phone call, is inside the Palace of Westminster. I’m meeting the secretary of a member of the house of Lords. We were at school together. My name will be on the list of people who are allowed through security. Yours will not be, so that’s where you get lost. As you know the Palace is well guarded by people with loaded guns. They don’t take kindly to fat slobs hanging around outside.”

“Why you little… bitch. Calling me a fat slob. I’ll have you on report for this.”

“Please go right ahead and do just that. Then you will have to answer to the Chief Inspector as to why you are stalking me when you should be on duty. Perhaps I should report you to AC-12? Stalking is a criminal offence these days as you well know…”

Roberta was deliberately goading him to react. The area around the Palace of Westminster is blanketed by CCTV. If he slugged her then he’d be finished in the police. Luckily for him, he managed to resist the temptation to act although his fists clenched and un-clenched several times while he glared at Roberta.

He mouthed a ‘fuck you’ at Roberta before walking away. He wasn’t going far. Roberta was sure that he would follow her to the entrance of the palace and watch her gain entry just to be sure.

Once she’d gained entry to the Palace of Westminster, she found a quiet spot in Westminster Hall. As she usually did, she looked up at the intricate ceiling. For it to have lasted at least 600 years was remarkable. The craftmanship of it was wonderful and inspiring to her. With a shake of the head, she made a call to AC-12.

“Sir, I was busted by Sergeant Hill when I left your offices. He is very suspicious about why I was visiting AC-12. I spun him a tale about giving a statement about a case from my time at Colindale, but I’m sure that he didn’t believe a word I said. The most important thing to consider is how he found me. I know that I wasn’t tailed on my way to your office and I only told one person and they have ‘Top Secret’ clearance and would not tell on me in a million years short of a court order.”

“Sir, I hate to say it, someone is watching the comings and goings at your building or… there is a leak in AC-12.”

“Sir, I’d prefer if it was the second. I did switch my phone into flight mode before I left the vicinity of Westminster and walked to your office.”

“Yes Sir. It goes without saying that I will be extra careful. I’m safe now.”

“Sir, I’m inside the Palace of Westminster. I’m having lunch with an old friend who works for a member of the House of Lords. Naturally, the Sergeant was unable to gain entry.”

“Sir, please don’t do anything that would put me at risk. I would ask you to treat this in strictest confidence, I am the daughter of that peer, but only a few people in the force know this. He is the one with the security clearance.”

“Yes sir, that does put a different light on things. These people, if what we talked about is correct, they could present a threat to my security and that of my father which I am sure is way above and beyond your paygrade.”

“Thank you, sir. Much appreciated.”

After an enjoyable lunch, Roberta left the Palace and went home by another very roundabout route. It might not have fooled a tail but at least it gave her the chance to visit a few more tube stations in East London. While travelling home, Roberta had time to think how she would handle Sergeant Hill when she reported for duty the next morning.

As luck would have it, Sergeant Hill had reported in sick for the second day. With Roberta temporarily at a loose end, she was tasked to do some case collation. While this is a necessary duty, it is as boring as hell to most officers. To Roberta, it was just another exercise in problem solving which she relished. By nature, she was something of a loner. Most people like her are like that. Spending a day thinking about a series of cases was to her, a perfect task.

What worried her was that this particular task blurred the lines between those in uniform and those in CID who considered themselves a cut above the ‘Plods’ in uniform. It was the sort of job that was given to the ‘rookie’ in CID.

Roberta stopped thinking about the ‘what if’s’ with a shrug and returned to the task at hand.

The cases she was looking at were all related to the thefts of Catalytic Converters. These contain valuable elements such as palladium, rhodium and platinum. There is a thriving black market in them all over Europe but it takes specialised equipment to recover the valuable metals from the stolen converters. The key is to steal a lot of them and get them out of the country ASAP.

The pile of reports of thefts was almost a foot high on the desk. Many of them had not been entered into the computer system because of manpower shortages. That didn’t deter Roberta one little bit. She found a map of north London and stuck it to an unused whiteboard. Then one by one, she marked the location of each reported crime onto the map. At the same time, she entered details such as time, place and model of car into a spreadsheet on both her computer and the PNC (Police National Computer). That job alone took more than three hours. Even before she’d finished, a smile started to form on her face. She changed the colour of the markings with each month. Three distinct patterns started to reveal itself to Roberta. It looked like the thefts came in waves that lasted at most a couple of weeks. Then there was a break of a week or so, before the thefts started again in a new part of N.E. London. So far, there had been no returns to the scenes of previous crimes. Roberta’s Criminology training had taught her to look at all possibilities. It seemed to her that it was only a matter of time before that happened again, but where?

She was standing back looking at the map when Chief Inspector Kennedy, a recent arrival at the station came into her office. He was in charge of the traffic officers and not directly her boss. He stood watching her working for several minutes before making himself known.

“Sir!” exclaimed Roberta when he saw the Chief Inspector.

“Carry on Constable. I was intrigued by what you were doing. What you were doing with the map caught my eye.”

“Sir, I was told to collate all the reports of thefts of Catalytic Converters. A visual display helps me get a picture of the pattern or lack of a pattern of the crimes. In this case, there are several patterns.”

“I can see that for my own eyes. My question is that why is a PC doing this work? This should be being done by CID?”

“Sir? I just do as I’m told.”

The Chief shook his head.
“That does not fly with me PC Galbraith. Ask yourself how many other PC’s or DC’s for that matter, would think of doing what you are doing? They would just make sure that all the cases are entered into the PNC and leave it at that.”

“Sir… That might be the case. I’m doing a bit more and if I can get some ideas about how to solve the crimes then I’ll make sure that CID know about it. If nothing happens then so-be-it. I will know that I have done everything I could within the bounds of my position.”

The Chief smiled.
“There speaks a politician.”

“Not me sir. All they do is line their own pockets and lie to the people who put them in power.”

“That’s a pretty jaundiced view of the world,” said the Chief Inspector.

“Isn’t it true?”

“That’s your opinion and I guess that you are sticking to it?”

Roberta smiled.
“It is not my job to question the people in power, but I am entitled to my opinion. We all are, aren’t we? As long as I don’t gossip on my fellow officers then as far as I know, I’m not breaking any rules.”

“That is true but Constable, there are people in the force that don’t like that sort of free thinking.”

“I am aware of that Sir. There are some in this station who would prefer that I was not here at all, but don’t ask me to name names. I am not a snitch.”

“Good for you. Now… What have you determined so far?”

“Sir… It is early days but I get the feeling that the gang involved are stealing ‘cats’ to order. They hit an area and target a range of cars. None of the vehicles targeted have the latest alarm systems but have ‘cats’ that cost at least a grand each to replace. I need to look into lead times for those replacements. If they take too long to replace then those cars will be off the road for a long time. That isn’t good for them if my suspicions are right.”

“I don’t follow you?”

“Sir, I think that we will see a new raft of repeat thefts in at least one the areas that were targeted before very soon if my theory is correct. Those who had one stolen in the first wave some six months ago should all have nice shiny new converters just waiting to be stolen again.”

“You can get that from just looking at the map?”

Roberta shook her head.
“No Sir. It was just trying to put myself into the mind of the crooks. Why would they take the trouble to case out an area only in the sort of detail needed to target only cars that fit a particular profile, only to use it just the once. If I was one of them, I’d have a dossier about all the locations where they had successfully stolen a converter. It would contain things like location of CCTV cameras, alarm systems, motion sensitive lights, dogs and everything that they would need to make the return trip a success. All they’d need to do it is a drive-by with a video camera running. Then they would be able to check at their leisure that nothing has changed such as the original car being replaced with a newer one. If nothing has changed then that location would be earmarked for a return visit.”

The Chief Inspector smiled.
“You have certainly been giving this some thought?”

Roberta shook her head.
“I was just following a logical train of thought.”

“What is next?”

“Sir, I will write up a report and get it to the Inspector by the end of the day. He will pass it on to CID. If they choose to do nothing and the thieves strike again, then it will be on them to answer for their inaction, not me.”

“It seems to me Constable that you have a bit of a downer on CID? Care to explain?”

“Sir, it goes back to before your arrival here. I worked on that case with the Art smuggling and the capture of the Russian Assassin with the NCA. A few people in CID were not impressed with a rookie Constable cracking the case and being recommended for a commendation, so I was sent back to Uniform.”

“Don’t you mind getting rebuffed like that?”

“Sir, I know that one day, I will get my chance. Until then, I’m still learning the job.”

“Don’t give me that excuse. If I was running CID, I’d have you on my team in a flash.”

“Sir, may I ask why you seem to be on my side?”

“Does the name Inspector Singh ring a bell?”

Roberta grinned.
“I get it now.”

“He gave me the heads up on you before I left Stratford to come up here. I just wanted to see for myself. What he said about you is an understatement. When I arrived here, I read the reports you submitted on the murder of the wine importer. Those were exemplary in my eyes. Your dogged approach to the case while unorthodox, solved a complex case that was far, far bigger than anyone here thought. If you had simply followed the instructions of your Sergeant on that first day, the original case would be gathering dust and the bigger picture would never have been exposed. You kept at it and with dogged determination an international assassin was taken off the streets and an international art smuggling ring was broken up. That is good policing in my eyes.”

“Sir, thank you for that praise, but please keep it to yourself. I have enough people in the nick who dislike me intensely as it is. I don’t want to antagonise those who want me gone any farther.”

“Very well Constable. I’ll do my job but if I see people bullying you or worse, then I will intervene.”

“Thanks Sir. Now if you don’t mind, I need to run some modelling on my figures before I write my report. I think I have a way to predict the next location to be hit.”

He left Roberta to get on with her work. It was clear to him that she needed a champion in the Nick, and he decided that, if possible, that person would be him. He had a daughter who was much like Roberta in her approach to life. Unorthodox but effective, and because she was like Roberta, a square peg in a round hole, she needed support.

Roberta put the visit from the Chief Inspector to the back of her mind as she concentrated on trying to predict what area the gang of cat thieves would strike next. She was interrupted a little later when a text arrived. It said,

“Your leaky tap has been identified. We will be sending a plumber in tomorrow.”

Roberta knew that the message had come from AC-12 and that a leak had been found. Who it was, was not for her consumption but she didn’t care. As long as they knew who had tipped off Sergeant Hill, she was happy. Roberta returned to working on the catalytic converted theft problem.

After another hour of working the numbers and the map, she concluded that the area at the very west of their patch would be the most likely place where the repeat attack would happen. The estimated value of the scrap converters that had been stolen from that area was almost double that of the other two areas. A repeat visit over a couple of nights could prove very profitable for the gang.

With that in mind, she started to work on her report. It was not going to be a short document. Every aspect of her reasoning had to be included in detail. The last thing she wanted was for CID to reject it because she had missed a small detail. Roberta was under no illusion that certain officers in CID would go out of their way to avoid recognising her for anything.

Roberta was so engrossed in her work that she lost all track of time. It was only the arrival of the cleaning crew at 22:00 that she became aware of the time and that she hadn’t eaten anything since a rushed breakfast.

After locking everything away and cleaning the whiteboard, Roberta signed out and left the station. The night was fine but the noise from the traffic on the High Road spoilt the scene. She walked south down the High Road towards Seven Sisters. There was a Chinese Takeaway near the tube station that sold a very nice Sweet and Sour King Prawn. An order of that would do nicely.

She’d gone almost halfway and was waiting for a pedestrian crossing to change, when a voice came out of the darkness.
“PC Galbraith, I have a message from Leroy. He wants to meet at the usual place tomorrow at eight.”

Roberta stopped and looked towards the voice. There was no one there. That wasn’t surprising. Leroy had to be extra careful when interacting with the Police. It would not do if he was seen with a cop outside his patch and with a plain clothes cop at any time of the day or night.

Roberta skipped getting some food and went straight home. She’d only just moved into the bedsit in Walthamstow. It was a lot better than the couch surfing that she’d been doing since her last place was had been defiled by the assassin with a crossbow. She was still making the place ‘home’.

The message from Leroy had messed up her mind. What she wanted was some sleep. The next day looked like that it was going to be both busy and long.

[to be continued]

The next day was a big anti-climax compared to the previous one. Working on the catalytic converter thefts was right up her street and the sort of policing that she loved. From that high, there was always a new low not far away.

The next low for her was to be assigned to the local Crown Court. While that was a new experience for Roberta, it was also very boring, especially after a day working on the catalytic converter thefts.

Making sure that people got to the right courtroom was all fine and dandy, for the first hour, but standing in the same place for the duration of the court day, was not her idea of being a police officer. The only bright part of the day was to see Leroy James and two of his crew appear.

“Mr James. Are you appearing before a judge today?” she asked trying not to smile.

“Fuck you pig. I’m a witness in a case,” he said grumpily.

His insult did not faze her one bit. He had an image of being anti-police to protect.

“Well, Mr James, be sure to tell the truth, and not what you think that the lawyer wants to hear. None of us want to see you up on a charge of perjury now do we?”
She said the last part with a smile on her face.

He ignored Roberta and headed up the stairs towards Court No 3. He obviously knew the layout of the building very well. She made a mental note to ask him how the case went when she saw him later that day.

Her boring day got worse when she had a visit from Sergeant Hall in the middle of the afternoon.

“Well look at what we have here? Our own little snitch. Going into court to rat on your colleagues?”

“No Sarge, I am not as you well know or would have if you had taken the trouble to look at the duty roster board back at the station. I’m not a snitch and I’m not going into court to do anything. I was assigned this duty by Inspector Long this morning.”

The sergeant laughed.
“You must have done something bad for you to get this duty in only his second week at the nick?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about. But it does not matter in the grand scheme of things.”

“What the ‘F’ do you mean by the ‘grand scheme of things’?”

“It is quite simple really. Our maker has a plan for each and every one of us. What we do as individuals does not matter. We are like a single ant. On its own, that ant can’t make much impact but joined together, the whole ant colony can make a difference. The sum is greater than the parts.”

“What is that gobbledegook?”

“It isn’t gobbledegook. If you had the inclination, you could find out who laid down those thoughts. They help me when dealing with the numpties of this world.”

“What! Are you saying that I’m a numpty?”

“I never said that you were. As God is my witness.”

“I’ll have your guts for garters for this. Just wait until I report to the Inspector.”

“Please, do that Sarge. Meanwhile, I have this duty to complete before returning to the Station.”

The Sergeant stormed off with a red face. He didn’t know that Roberta had recorded their whole interaction.

She watched him go with a smile on her face. Her joy was short-lived.

“He does not like you, does he?” said a voice from behind her. She turned.

“Mr James?”

He smiled.
“That’s me and I plead ‘Not Guilty’.”

Roberta smiled.
“He is a numpty, a self-grandiosing numpty.”

“That, copper, we can agree on.”
He walked past Roberta with a grin on his face.

Sergeant Hall was nowhere to be seen when Roberta returned to the station. That was in her opinion, a good sign. If he'd reported her to the Inspector then he would be gloating to her that her time in the Met Police was almost over. She changed out of her uniform and headed for the Tube. She had a meeting with Leroy James to go to but that was for later. Roberta was heading for the Westfield Mall at Shepherds Bush to do some shopping. It was her father's birthday in a little over a week. Her route allowed her to check if anyone was following her. As far as she knew, she was on her own but as she changed trains at Willesden Junction, she remembered some of her last conversation with Superintendent Mark Wilson of AC-12.

Once inside the huge shopping centre, she switched her phone off and headed for a supermarket. There, she purchased a roll of cooking foil and wrapped her phone in it. Then she stuffed it into the very bottom of her shoulder bag. In doing so, she felt something strange.

It was strange because Roberta had cleaned out the bag only a few evenings before. Something that felt like a pebble had no right being in the bag.

Upon examination, she knew right away that it wasn’t a pebble but a tracking bug. The bag had been in her locker all day and despite it being locked, it would not take a real expert to pick the lock and put the bug into her bag. Seeing the bug, presented her with a problem. What should she do with it? There were two choices. The first was easy, take the battery out and therefore disable it. But that would tell whoever was tracking her that she’d discovered the bug. The other option was to take the bug and ‘donate it’ to someone or something else. With a wry smile, she decided on the second option.

She carried on with her shopping mission and purchased two small presents for her father plus a birthday card.

With her shopping done, Roberta headed for the London Overground station just before seven that evening. She took the train back to Willesden Junction where she changed to the Richmond service. Instead of getting off at Kew Gardens, she carried on into Richmond where she changed to the next service that was operated by South West Trains. That train went all the way to Reading. That was a perfect diversion. Between Richmond and the next stop, Twickenham, she simply put the tracker into the waste bin. She would then let the ‘train take the strain’.

With a wry smile, she alighted from the train at Twickenham and returned to Richmond by the next London-bound service. A District Line train then took her to Kew Gardens in plenty of time for her meeting.

Confident in that she wasn’t being tailed nor tracked, Roberta treated herself to a portion of chips and a couple of sausages while she waited for Leroy James to appear.

When he did appear, he was almost half an hour late and slightly out of breath.
“Sorry for being late, my ride expired on the other side of Chiswick Bridge. The idiot forgot to put enough fuel in the tank.”

Roberta smiled.
“That’s ok. These things happen.”

“Look Cop, you have done right by me since you came to the manor, and I’ve given you some tips in return. Your top brass has mostly kept out of drug busts on the ‘Farm’ which is good. The last one was when they followed one of the Turks from Green Lane onto the estate. Because it wasn’t one of my guys, we let your mob do their thing unmolested.”

“What are you saying Leroy? Are you quitting?”

“I don’t want to quit, but three of my guys have been hospitalised since we last met. The opposition is moving in strong. They pick up one of my crew right off the street in broad daylight and take them way, way out of London and give them a severe beating which includes a broken limb. Then they dump my guy on a remote road and leave him to fend for himself.

Then he passed Roberta a grimy bit of paper.

Those are the times and places where it happened. Perhaps your CCTV might get a lead on three abductions? You know, do your job like?”

“Why haven’t we heard about this before?”

“My crew aren’t speaking to you lot unless I say so, and besides most of them are not the sort of people to have a fixed address if you get my meaning.”

“By my lot, I assume that you mean the local plod where they are hospitalised?”

“Yeah. They stay silent until they can make a phone call to a legal representative friend of ours.”

“Ah, you mean Bennie King?”

Leroy smiled.
“You are pretty clued up for a cop!”

“I do try to keep my nose to the ground. Are you going to fight for your patch?”

“I am, but that Sergeant Hill of yours is in cahoots with them. His main reason for coming to the court was to check up on me. The case was where I was a witness to a hit and run that involved a mother and a small child on White Hart Lane. So, nothing to do with my other business and happened before you came to the manor. That conversation we had earlier convinced me that you are still on the straight and narrow and that Sergeant Hill has not gotten to you… yet.”

“Why did he want to check up on you?”

“While I was in the court, and he was giving you some stick, one of his ‘friends’ took a large bag of crap junk onto the ‘Farm’ and started dolling it out for free.”

“Ah, the old free sample game.”

“Yeah. Only this junk was cut with some nasty stuff. One of my guys thinks that it was cut with rat poison. Luckily, what is left of my crew scouped it up and set it on fire down by the river Lea. We both know that they will be back… again and again.”

“That is not good. Not good at all. What can I do to help maintain the status quo?”

“Word has it that you know someone in AC-12?”

Roberta was shocked that he’d know about AC-12 let alone her contacts in the department.
“I gave you a load of information last time, didn’t I?”

“I remember now. I passed it on… to my contact in AC-12.”

“One of their people tried to make contact with me. I told him to get lost. I can’t trust any pig but you. As I said, you have been open with me and I respect that. Plus, you have not asked me to rat on anyone on the Farm. Other cops would have wanted more but you don’t. That’s why I told the cop from AC-12 to fuck off. If you want to arrange a meet somewhere that isn’t here I’ll go as long as you are there as well. I know it sounds odd but I trust you not to do the dirty on me.”

“Thanks for that. What else can I do?”

“Report back about the escalation. Someone in your nick who wants the current setup to continue might be interested enough to stop a drug war from breaking out. That is not in any of our best interests if you know what I mean?”

Leroy passed her another scrap of paper. Roberta didn’t look at it so Leroy continued.
“Those are the details of where my crew are recovering. They won’t talk to any cops, but their medical records will tell a story. Get your mob to speak to the West Yorkshire cops about how this foreign crew moved into Morley, near Leeds. I have it on good authority that they did it exactly this way. Two cops are in Armley Prison, waiting for their trials to come up but by the time they were busted, two of the local crew were pushing up daisies. You can imagine what comes next?”

Roberta was fully aware of what would come next. She’d studied how drug wars had evolved in the UK when she was taking her master’s degree in Criminology.

“Ok, I’ll speak to my contact in AC-12, but there has to be something else?”

Leroy smiled and pulled out a USB stick from his jacket and slid it across the table to Roberta.
“Photos and plenty of them. Most of them are of the expendables who were dishing out the free samples. I have people on the estate who record the comings and goings of strangers just for protection you understand? The rest are of your Sergeant and his boss, Inspector Barnes, meeting with someone I don’t know but from his accent, my guess is that he is the advance guard from Leeds. Your people from up north could probably identify him. They might be wondering where he has gone. He’s holed up in Hertford, just off the A10 at the moment. It is a squat so should be easy for the local plod to find. He parks his car at Hertford North train station. It is an Audi A5 with cloned plates if you are interested. There is a photo of it on the card.”

“Leroy, I do know that the bosses want to keep the status quo going. Keeping hard stuff off the Farm is a high priority and especially hard stuff that has been cut to hell and back with all sorts of crap. I’ll pass this all onto AC-12 and express the urgency of the situation. That is all I can do.”

“I know that you will try. Just remember the two casualties in Leeds? All it needs is one of my crew to get taken out and there could be a full scale drug war on your hands.”

With that, he disappeared into the darkness.

Roberta didn’t move for several minutes. Then she made a call to AC-12. What Leroy had given her was too important to sit on.

“Sorry to bother you at this time of night sir, but I have some information that can’t wait for tomorrow.”

“No Sir, I need to see you or one of your team in person preferably tonight.”

”At the moment, I’m in Richmond.”
She didn’t want to disclose her real location. She was sure that there would be CCTV of her meeting with Leroy if someone dug deep enough.

”No Sir, that won’t be a problem. I should be there in about half an hour.”

“I’ll call you when I get off my train.”

She hung up the call and walked towards the underpass that connected both sides of the station. She was headed to Hammersmith Tube station.

Her luck was in and she only had a couple of minutes to wait for the next District Line train.

At Hammersmith, she alighted from the District Line service and waited for it and the Piccadilly Line train on the adjoining platform to depart before making a call to her contact at AC-12.

“Sir?”

“Yes, I’m on the eastbound platform.”

“Ok sir, I’ll be there.”

She hung up and left the station via the east exit which led directly to the adjacent bus station. Almost as soon as she arrived, a black BMW pulled up beside her. In the front passenger seat, was a smiling Superintendent from AC-12. She got in the back and the car took off into the evening traffic.

“Right Constable, what have you got for us that can’t wait?”

“Sir, the gang moving in on Broadwater Farm are from Leeds. Specifically, Morley. Three of Leroy James’s crew have been abducted in the past week and taken well away from London and given a beating that has put them out of action. By that, I mean broken limbs.”

“Those three were taken in broad daylight from locations just outside ‘The Farm. This gives the dates and times. “

“My contact also gave me the locations where those three abductees are recovering.”

She passed over the two pieces of paper that Leroy had given her earlier. She had photos of them just in case.

“While that is interesting, that could have waited or you could have passed it all onto your bosses. Why AC-12?”

“Sir, the invaders have been distributing a load of bad smack on the Farm that could well have been cut with rat poison. They were giving it away. That is a clear threat to the status quo. Then Sergeant Hall and Inspector Barnes have been keeping close tabs on me in recent days. The Sergeant came to ‘inspect’ me while I was on duty at the local Magistrates Court today. He was also checking out the leader of the crew that controls the ‘farm’, Leroy James who was there to give evidence in a hit and run case. At the same time, there was a crew on the ‘farm’ giving out the free drugs.”

“It is interesting to know that things are moving up a level. What else do you have?”

“Sir, my informant gave me this USB drive. He claims that there are photos of the Sergeant and the Inspector meeting with one of the head people from the Leeds gang.”

The Superintendent smiled.
“That is very interesting indeed and if true, very troubling.”

Then after a sigh, he said,
“You were right to bring this to me tonight. You should go home and get some sleep. Can you keep doing your job as normal?”

Roberta smiled.
“There is something that you should know. You know that Sergeant Greeting suspects me of ratting him out. To complicate things farther, I found a tracking bug in my bag earlier this evening when I did some shopping at Westfield. I put the bug into the waste bin on a train that was bound for Reading. I know that he won’t be pleased about his bug going AWOL. The bug wasn’t there a couple of days ago.”

“Constable Galbraith, you did very well. Most people would have destroyed the bug. Now, they don’t know when you discovered it. The bad news is that they clearly suspect you of working with us. For now, don’t contact us. Keep your head down but your eyes open. Are you able to keep doing this? You may have to lie to the Sergeant’s face.”

“Sir, if you have read my record, you will know that I am very good at living a lie. I’ve been doing it for most of my life.”

He grinned.
“I have read your record and you are better, no, way better than most at it, but please be careful. These people have infiltrated us and are intent on stirring up Broadwater Farm again. In the resulting chaos, they can move in and flood the area with crap smack which will only make things worse. Agreed?”

Roberta nodded.
“I will do my best to act normal at work. I’m due to on patrol with Sergeant Hill tomorrow. That will be a stiff test, but I have rigged up a recorder to catch anything he says during my shift. He tried to goad me the other day, into calling him a ‘numpty’ but I didn’t rise to his bait.”

“Be careful. That’s all I can ask.”

“I will be careful sir.”

“Right. Driver, can you pull up at the next station?”

“Sir, I’d rather make my own way home. The next bus stop will do perfectly well.”

Roberta watched the Super’s car drive off towards central London. She went the other way and caught a bus to Camden Town. Two more busses and a train would get her home in a little more than an hour. The rides gave her a chance to think about how she should approach work the next day.

"Let's take a drive through the Farm," said Sergeant Hill at the start of the next day's shift.

“Sarge, that goes against standing orders. The Chief Super has been very clear about patrolling the Farm. Unless we are in pursuit or answering a 999 call we are to keep out.”

“Constable, I gave you an order. I expect you to carry it out.”

Roberta sighed and turned off the High Road and onto the sprawling Broadwater Farm Estate.

Even after a year and a half at Tottenham nick, Roberta didn’t like the ‘Farm’. People stopped and stared at the patrol car. At least two made gun signs at them before they’d gone half a mile. She could feel the tension. Then they came upon a body slumped against a lamppost.

“Stop the car and investigate Constable,” ordered the Sergeant.
“I was not going to drive past a dead body Sarge. You might not think much of me, but I am not that callous.”

The sergeant didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled out his personal phone.

Roberta parked their patrol car close to the victim and went to investigate. She pulled on a pair of gloves before checking for a pulse in the neck of the young man. There was none and the body felt quite cold.

“Sarge, he is dead and has been so for several hours.”

“Well? What are you waiting for? Call in the cavalry.”

Roberta glared at the Sergeant before reporting the death to control. He was doing something on his phone and ignoring her.

When that was done, Roberta got back out of the car and went to examine the body. Examine was not the right word. She gave the dead body a close examination without touching the deceased. She started to take photos of the body and the location.

“What the fuck do you think that you are doing?” called the Sergeant from inside the car.

“Sarge, I’m making a record of the crime scene.”

“This is not a crime scene.”

“Sorry Sarge. It is a crime scene until the coroner rules otherwise. The death might be ruled suspicious. In that case, CID will want all these photos before the medics and coroner ruin the scene. This is all SOP if my teachers from Hendon are to be believed.”

“Suspicious my ass. Even I can see the needle tracks on his arm.”

“Sarge, it is clear that none of them are recent. There is scarring but they are all healed. However, I can see that there is one possible needle mark in the side of his neck.”

“That is probably a bite from a bed bug or didn’t you read the memo about an infestation of them at the halfway house just down the road?”

“I did read the memo but this guy is hardly dressed like a resident of the house. His shoes are handmade. My guess is that they cost at least four hundred quid a pair.”

“How the fuck do you know anything about mens’ shoes?”

“Because I spent one Easter vacation working at one of the places that they are made during my degree course.”

That was a lie but she’d bought her father a pair of very expensive shoes for his 60th birthday the previous year. These looked very similar to other shoes that she had seen in the shop.

The Sergeant glared at Roberta. Then he turned his attention to his phone. He was messaging someone urgently. She resisted the temptation to try to see who he was in contact with and returned to the body. The more she thought about the victim, the more she concluded that he was a visitor to the area. His shoes were expensive and his clothes were not from a cheap chain store either. She wondered if the victim was one of the crew who had come down from Leeds to take over the drug trade in the area. Only time would tell on that front.

It was almost midday by the time that the body had been removed to the mortuary at the local hospital. CID had come, did their thing and left before the all clear was given and Roberta and Sergeant Hill could resume their patrol. Word had come over the radio that they were not to go farther into the Broadwater Farm estate. The Sergeant was not happy but he gave the order. The mystery deepened when CID failed to find any identification on the body.

“Turn around and get the hell out of this war zone come cesspit and get back to the station”

His choice of words initially puzzled Roberta but going back to the station would provide a welcome break from the Sergeant.

In the privacy of the Ladies' Toilet, Roberta sent a text to her contact at AC-12. She updated him on all the private messaging that the Sergeant had been doing and her thoughts about the identity of the victim.

Then she switched her phone off and went to the canteen for some very welcome food. To her relief, Sergeant Hill was not there.

Their afternoon patrol was fairly uneventful. They caught two banned drivers behind the wheel at the local supermarket. Both cars were impounded due to illegal tyres. If they were not claimed within seven days, they could be crushed. Even then, several hundred pounds in fines would be levied on them.

At the end of the shift, Roberta went home. When she opened the door to her latest temporary home, she found that an envelope had been pushed under the door.

Roberta didn’t pick it up until she had showered and changed. It was probably nothing but she felt that she had the smell of death on her. She’d felt like that once before when she’d found the dead body of the wine importer at the lockup that was ironically less than 100m from where they’d arrested the second of the banned drivers a few hours before.

While she waited for her baked potato to cook in the microwave, she opened the envelope. In an instant, any thoughts about eating went up in smoke. The envelope contained a single item, a photo of the old her as a child before she’d transitioned. She knew in an instant when it was taken, the day that her old self was ‘confirmed’. In the background, the church that was in the nearby village was clearly visible. On the back of it was written,

“We know everything about you and this what you will get very, very soon”
Underneath it, was a crude drawing of a stick man being hanged.

[to be continued]

Roberta saw the stick drawing of a person being hung and for a moment, she momentarily panicked before her training kicked in. Immediately, she dropped the photo and the envelope onto the floor.

She felt her heart pounding at the same time as feeling physically sick.

Roberta had always known that her secret would be out in the open sooner or later. She'd never imagined that it would be like this. Despite her rational mind, her body decided that being sick was the order of the day. She made it to the bathroom just in time.

After recovering both physically and mentally, her detective mind began working again.

With a newfound determination, she found a pair of evidence scene gloves in her shoulder bag and put them on.

Who could have done this? Why had they done this? Why now?

Now ‘Gloved up’, she put the photo and the envelope that it came in, into two evidence bags and sealed them shut. Finally, she wrote the date, time, and place of when they were collected. It was almost automatic thanks to her training. Then she panicked again. What should she do next? All sorts of things flashed through her mind before she calmed down.

Slowly, her functioning mind regained control over her raw emotions. A plan began to form in her mind.

After taking more than a few deep breaths to slow her heart down, Roberta made a call to her father. That was just step one of her plan. While she waited for the call to connect, she admitted to herself that it was the only step. What happened next would depend upon what her father said to her.

“Dad, do you remember that photo of me that Mum took just after my confirmation?”

“Yes, the one of the old me looking grumpy because I was made to wear a suit instead of that dress that she had made for me?”

“Someone put a copy of it under my door along with a stick drawing of someone being hung while I was at work today.”

“Yes, I do think that they meant me.”

“I can’t stay here any longer. It is not safe. I know that I’ve only just moved in, but if whoever it is, can find me so quickly… I don’t know what to do next. I knew that one day, I’d be exposed but not like this.”

“I’ll pack a bag and get the hell out of here, but I need to call the Chief Super at the nick. He knows about my past but, I can’t just go AWOL.”

“I will let you know where I’m going.”

“Sorry Dad, if they can find me here then your place is far from safe. I don’t know if my phone has been bugged but it is a possibility that someone is listening in to this call. I’ll find a hotel to lie low in, and before you ask, I won’t be in uniform.”

“Speak to you later.”

Roberta hung up the call and sighed. Now for the hard part.

Her next act was to call Chief Superintendent Thompson. He was one of the very, very few people who were stationed at Tottenham Police Station who knew of Roberta’s past.

“Sir, PC Roberta Galbraith.”

“Sorry to bother you at this hour sir, but you did say to call if I needed help. I believe that my identity has been compromised as well as the location of my new home. I have only been here a week.”

“When I returned home from my shift, I found that an envelope had been pushed under the door to my home. It contained a photo of me or rather the old me from when I was confirmed. On the back of it, there was a stick drawing of someone being hung. The implication of the drawing was pretty clear to me.”

“No Sir. Both items are in evidence bags. The envelope was one of the old types with a water-based adhesive. There could be DNA on it.”

“I want to pass this evidence onto someone who is not going to sit on it because they think that I am just being a silly woman. I will stay at a hotel tonight but I am unsure about my shift tomorrow.”

“Thank you, sir. If you could do that then I would appreciate it. If I tried to explain what I have, I’d get the third degree from my Sergeant who would make it clear that he would rather be paired up with anyone but me. He is clear to anyone who would listen, that I don’t belong anywhere near the Police because of my sex.”

Roberta bit her lip. She almost revealed that Sergeant Hill was more than likely a bent copper.

“Yes Sir. That would be good. I will wait for your call.”

“Oh yes. Thank you, sir. I have got that.”

Roberta ended the call and sat motionless for well over a minute. Her brain was working at a million miles an hour. She was thinking about what she could take with her when she did a bunk from her home, possibly to never return.

With a sigh mixed with a deep breath, she sprang into action. Luckily, she'd changed out of her uniform at the station. She made a mental note to get her father to arrange for the remainder of her things to be collected and taken down to Dorset. At that moment, her future in the Met Police looked pretty bleak.

In less than ten minutes she’d packed two soft bags and was ready to leave. That was just in time as there was a knock on her front door then a voice said,

“PC Galbraith, this is Sergeant Colin Heaney from Islington. I’ve been detailed to take you wherever you want. The Chief Super says ‘Palace for the Cup’.”

Roberta dithered but the recent arrival of a text from the Superintendent telling her that a Sgt Heaney from Islington would be taking her to wherever she wanted to go. A second text had told her to expect a code phrase. He’d given it perfectly. Now it was up to her to trust him.

Roberta opened the door and smiled at the Sergeant.
“I’m just about ready to go.”

“Good,” he said.
“My Chief Inspector told me that you had received a viable threat to your life and that I was to protect you. I spent three years on the Royal Protection Squad and I’m firearm certified.”

Those last words sent a chill down Roberta’s spine but it soon passed. The Sergeant was very much the right person for this duty.

“Thanks Sarge. If you can take that bag, I’ll bring the other one and the evidence and lock up this place.”

“Very good Constable,” said the Sergeant as he picked up the largest and heaviest of her bags.

Roberta started to walk towards the door but stopped.
“I have forgotten something important. Won’t be a moment.”

He didn’t react but the frown on his face told Roberta that he wasn’t impressed. She ignored him and dashed into her bedroom. Less than 20 seconds later, she returned stuffing a black wallet into her trousers pocket. The wallet contained her pass to the Palace of Westminster. She could not risk that very sensitive item falling into the wrong hands.

“Let’s get out of here.”

The Sergeant smiled and nodded.

“I’ll take your bags down while you lock up.”

“Sure thing Sarge.”

A couple of minutes later, Roberta joined the Sergeant in his patrol car. Right away she knew that she was in an interceptor vehicle. Unmarked and with a highly tuned engine and suspension. Perfect for chasing down criminals or leaving anyone following them in the dust.

“Where to?”

“The first stop is the Home Office Path Lab at University College. I have some evidence to drop off. The Chief Super texted me to say that they were expecting me ASAP.”

“Do you want me to put on my lights and siren?”

She shook her head.
“Only if we are being followed.”

“Good move,” said the Sergeant as he set the car in motion.
He smiled. His original opinion of Roberta had already been proved wrong. She had a cop brain just as he was told she had.

They’d been going for a few minutes when the Sergeant asked,
“If you don’t mind me saying, you are taking this threat very calmly. We all get threats from time to time, but very few turn out to be credible.”

“I know that. This one is credible because they know about my past. That tells me that they know all about me right down to the church where I was confirmed as a child.”

“Ouch. I can see why you needed to get the hell out of town in a hurry. Do you have any idea about who is behind this threat?”

“At the moment, the list is the size of the phone book, but there is one prime suspect, but they can’t be here so the answer is no one at the moment. Hopefully, the evidence I have might shed some light on who it is.”

There wasn’t much more to be said for the time being.

Almost fifteen minutes later, the Sergeant said,
“We don’t have a tail and unless they planted a bug on this car in the short time that I was at your home, we are free and clear.”

Roberta had been watching their rear via the rear-view mirror.
“I think that you are right.”

“We’ll be at the lab very soon. Are they expecting us to wait?”

“According to the Super, they are not. They will inform him of any results of their tests.”

“He’s a Chief Super now,” said the Sergeant.

“I keep forgetting to add the ‘Chief’ but he’s cool on the thing.”

“He was my boss on the Royal Protection Squad.”

His words answered several of the questions that she had about the Sergeant.
“That’s good to know. I wondered how you were assigned to come and rescue me so quickly.”

“He was very lucky. The Chief was at Stratford earlier today interviewing a new Chief Inspector and we bumped into each other as I came on duty. When the call to come to your aid came through, I was in Leytonstone mopping up after a boy racer lost control and went into the back of a refuse truck. The Vauxhall Nova was not a pretty sight. Luckily, the driver was able to walk away with just a bad gash on the head. He’s probably going to jail for this as it is his fifth time driving without a license or insurance. The Nova also had four bald tyres so that’s another twelve points on his license… when he gets it back in about five years.”

“Thanks for rescuing me like that.”

“I’m not done yet. You haven’t told me where we are going after the lab.”

Roberta managed a smile.
“I’m still working on that. The last thing I want to do is put you at risk. You don’t need it.”

“Bollocks. The Super said that you were something special. In the short time, you have been in my car, you have impressed me just how composed you are. The majority of other officers would be in a right old state whereas, you have your wits about you. Plus, fuck those who want to top an officer of any rank.”

His words were delivered in a way that told Roberta that he was in it for the duration. That must be down to the relationship he had with the Super. She’d learned from Sergeant Singh, that if you had a good commander and worked with them, then they’d have your back in a crisis.

Most of the Lab building was in darkness but about half of the 4th floor was lit up. This was where Roberta was going. The sergeant stopped the car right outside the main entrance to the building. A Security guard was sitting behind a desk.

“Do you have your warrant card with you?” asked the Sergeant.

“I do. Do you think that he’ll let me in if I flash it at him?”

“He will if you also waft those two evidence bags under his nose. Processing evidence is their bread and butter.”
His words were spoken in such a way that exuded confidence. That could only come from experience. While that was good, it reminded Roberta that she was only just past the ‘rookie’ stage.

Roberta got out and walked up to the front door. It was locked but her rattling it drew the attention of the guard. She flashed her warrant card and the evidence and the guard remotely opened the door. She went inside after mentally breathing a sigh of relief.

“The people on the 4th floor are expecting you,” said the guard as he pointed towards the lifts.

Less than ten minutes later, Roberta returned to the waiting car without the evidence bags.

“All done?”

“So far. I had to give them my fingerprints for elimination purposes because they don’t have out-of-hours access to our prints database. Otherwise, we are good to go.”

“When will they have some results?”

“The DNA test will take a couple of days to come back but they should be able to check for prints tonight and be ready to dive into the records first thing in the morning. If we are out of luck, there might be only my prints on it, then we are back to square one.”

“Ok, where to now?”

“I want to get out of the city. Tomorrow is Friday so the weekend is upon us. That might give me time to sort out who is behind all this.”

“Where do you mean by ‘out of the city’?”

“My real home is in Dorset. If we are smart and don’t get caught by all the lights, I can just about catch the last train from Waterloo.”

“Forget the train. Any woman alone on a late-night train is at risk from almost every drunk who can still walk. Then, while you were in the lab, the Chief Super called for an update. He told me to stick like glue to you. Reading between the lines of what he didn’t say, I think that other things are going on behind the scenes. He also said that you are to forget about reporting for duty in the morning and that you are to consider that as an order.”

Roberta smiled.
“Things are going on in the background, and they involve some very bent cops at Tottenham nick. AC-12 are on the case. If you want out now that you know that, then I’m giving you an out.”

“I’m in,” said the Sergeant without even an instant of hesitation.

“Ok, then it is time to head west. M3 and A303 past Stonehenge.”

“As long as we can stop at a chippy on the way out of town,” remarked the Sergeant as he put the car into gear.
“I haven’t had a break since I came on duty.”

“I know just the place!”

“Do you actually live here?” exclaimed the Sergeant as he drove up to the house that Roberta called home just after 11:00 pm.
“I do. My family has done so for at least ten generations, but I’ll probably be the last.”

“Don’t say that. You are young enough to get married and have children.”

“Can you stop the car? I have something to tell you. I should have told you earlier.”

He brought the car to a halt and turned to Roberta.

“Are you gay?”

“Not quite. I was born male. The photo was of me when I was confirmed at the church that we passed in the last village.”

“Fuck,” said the Sergeant.
“Sorry. I should not have sworn.”

“Sarge, I’ve heard much, much worse so don’t worry about it.”

“I can see why you have to take the threat so seriously. There are a lot of people in the Met who would like everyone in the LGBTQ world to disappear.”

“Are you one of those?”

“Me? No. Far from it. My sister is a dyed-in-the-wool lesbian, and I had to step in and keep the Neanderthals off of her more than once. I do have to say, Roberta, that I would not have guessed. You come over as an intelligent officer who is wasted in uniform.”

“In that case Sergeant, we are good to go. If you go around to the back, Mrs Clarke, the housekeeper should still be up. She loves to watch Question Time on TV.”

She saw him properly smile possibly for the first time since they’d met.

“Did you sleep well?” asked Roberta as she joined the Sergeant at the breakfast table in the kitchen.

“Not really. It was far too quiet. Then an owl and a fox started a duet just before five.”

Both Roberta and Mrs Clarke laughed.
“Ok, ok, I’m a city boy.”

“I have to sleep with earplugs in for a couple of nights when I go back to town because of the noise,” replied Roberta.

“I have to get back to town in the early afternoon. I’m supposed to be on the two till ten shift and West Ham are playing Arsenal at home tonight.”

“That’s hardly the job for an interceptor driver?”

“I was only doing it for a week just to keep my certification going. My last day just happened to be yesterday. The regular driver will be wanting the car for the evening shift. There are a lot of boy racers around on a Friday and Saturday evening at Ally Pally [1]. We join forces with your lot and a couple of other nicks to stop the drag races. Inevitably, we get one or two who try to take on an interceptor. There is a lot of street cred to be had for beating our cars away from the lights. We are under strict orders not to race them, but we work in packs to trap the drag boys. Sadly, some choose to act stupid and end up like the Nova that I was dealing with yesterday. A few see crashing a stolen car and walking away from a write-off as a badge of honour. What they don’t understand is that there is a very fine line between walking away and being carried away in a body bag.”

“Sounds interesting,” said a clearly uninterested Roberta.

“Ok, I get the message. What kicks your boat then? Riding your pony?” he said with a smile on his face. Roberta knew that he was pulling her leg.

This time Roberta laughed. Then a wry smile appeared on her face.
“I am a complete klutz on a horse. Finish your breakfast and get ready to leave. Then, I’ll show you what I do to relax when I’m here, if I’m not out in Lyme Bay fishing or helping with the shooting parties that we have come here. Mostly clays at this time of year, I’m afraid.”

Twenty minutes later, Roberta led Sgt Heaney into the cellar of the house.

“Some of this part of the house dates back to the 13th Century. Back then it was heavily fortified. That was a throwback to Norman times. In many of the fortified houses that were not quite castles, the inhabitants built an exit route in case they were under siege. Back then private armies were the order of the day as the state was often flat broke, nothing new there then... The crown would raise funds for an army should the need arise such as the Crusades. The entrance to that exit route is where we are going now.”

“How many people know about this part of the house?”

“Very few so consider yourself honoured. I’ll explain why in a minute or two if it is not pretty obvious.

Roberta led him up to a huge steel door.
“This looks pretty recent.”

“It is. We had it installed after the Dunblane School Shootings at the back end of the 1990’s. As you know, there was a huge crackdown on gun ownership after that. We as a family have legally owned guns since the time of Henry the Sixth. After that crackdown, we converted the escape tunnel into a firing range. We also keep the guns down here behind that door. They are mostly rifles and shotguns. The rifles are never taken out of here. The only pistols we have are from the 18th Century. They are excluded under the Firearms Act because of their age. You can hardly perform a mass shooting with a flintlock pistol from the time of the American War of Independence now, can you?”

Colin smiled.
“That beats any gun cabinet I’ve ever seen into a cocked hat.”

“Sergeant, would you please turn away while I unlock the door.”

He didn’t say anything but turned away as requested.

Roberta opened the door with an optical scan of her left eye. If she had used the right one, all the guns would have been dosed in a powerful acid making them inoperable.

“Shall we go in?” asked Roberta once she’d swung the heavy door open.

They went inside and Roberta closed the door behind her.
“The emergency exit is operated by breaking this glass. The door will open and you can get out.”

“This place feels like Fort Knox?”

“When the local force came to inspect it, they didn’t know what to make of it as it was so unusual.”

“The range is one kilometre long,” said Roberta as she flipped a switch that lit up the tunnel.

“Wow. That is some serious marksmanship if you can hit a target at that range even with a decent sight.”

Roberta unlocked a more conventional gun cabinet and pulled out a rifle.
“Want to try? I’ll set the target up at 200m.”

After a brief hesitation, Colin smiled and took it.
“That is a genuine Winchester ’74 sniper rifle. It was made in 1876,” said Roberta proudly.
“A relative went to California in 1849 to look for gold and returned thirty years later, flat broke but with two of these in his luggage.”

“I’ve never shot anything this old.”

Roberta smiled.
“We only have pre-WW2 weapons here. It is a lot more fun than all those with modern sights. It is also a lot easier to keep our licenses. Like the pistols, you can hardly perform a mass shooting with one of these. It seems that it is something to do with the rate of fire.”

“That makes sense.”

She took a similar weapon and opened a drawer to reveal boxes of shells. She gave one box to Colin along with some ear defenders.

“Five rounds sighting and then five for real. The worst shot buys the winner a meal? Are you game?”

“You are on.”

They each put five rounds into the rifle. Roberta put two targets onto a small trolley and sent it down a 10-inch wide railway towards the end of the range. When it was in place, they laid down on some matting. Only then did they each chamber a round. Colin was observing Roberta closely. So far, he was impressed.

“That rifle of yours tends to shoot low and left. Five practice rounds when you are ready.”

She waited for Colin to shoot one round. Then she squeezed off her five rounds in fairly rapid succession.

Then she waited for him to finish his sighting rounds.
They looked at the target through spotting scopes that were next to each position.

“You are good,” exclaimed Colin.

“You aren’t that bad especially for the first time firing such an old and pretty unique weapon.”

“Do you want to raise the bet?” asked Roberta.

“No chance. I will probably owe you a meal when all this is over. You are a great shot. Why aren’t you shooting for Team GB?”

“And what would the IOC think when it came out that we’d selected a tranny for the women’s team? I’d be dropped like hotcakes and the press would hound me from here to eternity. Sorry, I am a coward when it comes to that.”

“Ok, but I’ve never seen shooting like that with such an old weapon.”

“Thanks. I have had a lot of practice so it was a bit unfair.”

They reloaded after Roberta had changed the targets and sent them down the range.

“Ok, five shots for real.”

They squeezed off their rounds and once again, Roberta’s grouping was almost perfect. His were close but nowhere near as good as hers.

“Ok Roberta, I owe you a meal. Nothing too expensive, ok?”

She laughed.
“It would need a bit more than a Big Mac to satisfy me but honestly, I hate the pompousness of the top restaurants. Somewhere in between would be fine.”

Roberta took the rifles and after checking that their chambers and magazines were empty, she safely stored them in the gun cabinet. He was impressed at her discipline when it came to gun safety. In the back of his mind, he was wondering if he should suggest that she sign up for firearms training…

As they walked back towards the main part of the house, Roberta said,
“Please don’t go boasting to people on the job about this. Far too many already want to take me down.”

“Then they are mad. Roberta, you are a one-off and it has been my pleasure to have met you. I only wish that it had been under better circumstances.”

“Sarge, the same goes for me.”

“I need to check in with your Super before I head back to London,” said Colin when they came up out of the depths of the house.
“Are you going to come with me?”

“I don’t know. It all depends upon what the Super has to report.”

He smiled as he pulled out his phone.

“Sir, Sergeant Colin Heaney reporting in.”

“Hold on sir, let me put this on speaker.”

“Please go ahead, sir,” said Colin.

“Roberta, we received the results of the fingerprint tests from the lab an hour and a half ago. There were yours naturally and one other print right in the middle of the hangman’s noose. We identified it as belonging to someone you may know Roberta, Antoine de Scuderi. It looks like it was deliberately placed to send you a message.”

The mention of Antoine sent a cold shiver right down Roberta’s spine.

“Sir? Are you sure? Isn’t he in jail awaiting trial in Paris?” asked Roberta with a slightly desperate tone to her voice.

“We are 100% sure that it is him. Like you, I thought that he was banged up. I called the Foreign Office and together we spoke to the Deputy French Judiciary Minister half an hour ago. I am sad to say that he was released on bail four days ago. They did confiscate his passport and put movement restrictions on him, but… he seems to have connections with people smugglers. The Minister is, if my French is correct, very unhappy at his release and even unhappier that he may well have come here. The Minister was talking about revoking his bail which was set at one hundred thousand Euros. I’ve just finished a call with the Commissioner, the Home Secretary and the deputy PM and they want him apprehended and sent to France ASAP. We are sending them our evidence and if they agree that he is indeed in this country, the French will issue a European Arrest Warrant for Mr Scuderi, which should speed up extradition especially as he has broken his bail conditions.”

Roberta stared straight into space. All her worst nightmares were coming true. Her past was coming to haunt her… again.

Antoine had a score to settle with Roberta and he was certainly going to try to take her down before he was caught, tried and sentenced to a very long time in jail.
[To be continued]

[1] Ally Pally. Alexandra Palace in North London. This was where the world’s first public TV transmission was done. I saw Led Zeppelin play there in the 1970’s.

The call ended with Roberta still shocked by the news that Antoine de Scuderi was out of jail and given the evidence, he was now in the UK and even worse, on the hunt for her. The single fingerprint was a clear sign that he was coming for her.

The Super had told them that he’d be raising hell with the Home Office and especially, ‘Border Force’ and demanding to know how a wanted felon had managed to get back into the country. While that didn't solve Roberta's immediate problem, at least she knew that people wanted to help her.

“Does this Antoine de Scuderi character know about this place?” asked Colin.

His question brought Roberta out of the mental hell that she was in.

“Eh? Yes. Or he knows where we live but he has never been here.”

“Then this place is not safe. We have to leave… now.”

“I agree with you on that front. We should get packed.”

The Sergeant smiled.
“I’m ready to go. I’ll get Madam’s chariot of fire, warmed up.”

Roberta was about to object to his language, but she understood that he was trying to cheer her up.

She managed a small smile before saying.
“I need to call my father before we go. He may need to take some corrective action in relation to his own security.”

She looked at the clock.
“He should be done with the sitting in the House by now.”

“House? Do you mean the House of Commons?”

“I wish. I mean the House of Lords. My Father is Lord Regis.”

Colin thought for a second or so before saying,
“I met him a couple of times when he accompanied one of the Royals on a visit. One of them was to a re-settlement centre for Somali’s”

Roberta smiled.
“That’s Dad. He has a great interest in the welfare of immigrants. We have five Somali families working on the estate right now. They have even converted an old dairy building into a Mosque. They are great people and brilliant with the farm animals. They treat them like their own children. It is such a shame that they were driven out of their lands by the civil war.”

Mathew shook his head.

“What’s wrong?”

“With almost every breath, I learn something new about you that impresses me. What I can’t understand is why did you choose a career in the Police?”

Roberta chuckled.

“I’ll tell you all about it on the drive back to London. Now I must call my father.”

As they approached London on the M3, the Sergeant became vigilant again. Roberta noticed this.
“What’s wrong?”

“We seem to have picked up a tail after we stopped for a comfort break at Fleet Services.”

Roberta did as her training dictated, and looked in the passenger's side rearview mirror.

“The white Ford Transit Combo, with the black stripe on the roof. They nearly cut us off as we passed the Starbucks DriveThru, at Fleet services and have been pacing us ever since.”

“How could they have followed us?”

“This Antoine character knows about Dorset, so sending someone down there on a reccie, would make sense. They may well have seen us leave and head this way. Then a phone call or two and if this guy is organised, they could be watching for us as we came past Basingstoke. There were plenty of cars parked at the service areas on the A303 or the overbridges. Almost any one of them could have been watching out for this car.”

“Shit. What do we do next?”

“We head for a secure police compound. There just happens to be one just outside Heathrow. I used it a lot when I was with the Royal Protection team. They have lots and lots of CCTV. If I call ahead, they can keep an eye out for us on the M25 and then the roads from Junction 14 using the National Highways CCTV System. They may be able to identify the tail and especially the identity of the driver.”

“I’m in your hands, Sarge.”

He managed a smile before he made a series of calls to the compound and to the M25 traffic controllers. He made sure that they were aware of the registration number of the car that they were driving as well as the number of the Ford Transit.

Roberta grew noticeably more uncomfortable the closer they got to London. For once, she had to rely on the sergeant to keep her safe. She wasn’t in control and it showed.

He slowed down and kept in lane 2 as the M25 junction approached. The Ford followed suit.

The sergeant suddenly said,
“I have an idea. Hold on tight.”

As the divider that identified the end slip approached, he suddenly swung the car to the right. They just made the turn and they were on the M3 going into London. Roberta watched their rear and the Ford swung to follow them but were too late and had to take the slip road onto the M25.

“That just about proves it… We were being followed.”

“Where too now?”

“We should still go to the compound. I know many of the people who are based there from my days with the Royal Protection Squad. They can give this car and us, a scan over.”

“That is a good idea. I found a tracker in my bag the other day. I associated that with a case that I’m working on, on the QT back at Tottenham
but after this, I might be wrong.”

The sergeant managed a smile.
“You seem to attract trouble don’t you Constable Galbraith?”

“That is probably because I look at the world in a different way from most people. That and refusing to suffer fools gladly.”

“I wish that we had more like you in the force. Many of the old fogies need putting out to grass and being forgotten.”

“That I can agree with 100%.”

[at the secure compound half an hour later]

The sergeant and Roberta left the car and all their belongings for the team at the depot to look for bugs. It didn’t take them long. Their team leader reported to the sergeant who in turn told Roberta.

“They found a bug in your luggage. It seems that whoever left that envelope at your flat also went inside. They probably predicted your flight home. What they didn’t budget for was for me to be part of the equation. I think that they were planning to kidnap you. From what you said about this Antoine character, he wants revenge for the past and he wants to see you suffer and control you. Is there something from your childhood that could make him want to do that?”

“All that sounds very CID stroke Psychologist to me?”

“Guilty. I did five years in CID before tossing my toys out of the window at my DCI who was a total idiot. I lost it big time and went back to uniform. As for the Psych stuff, I have a masters in it from Bristol.”

Roberta managed to smile and shake her head at the same time.

“At the risk of turning the tables, ‘why the Police?’”

“Touche.”

“Being all Psych was the thing that got me into trouble with my DCI. He was very old school and would not take my advice that the rapist that we were after was using psychological methods to torture his victims after the initial rape. He would rape them at the same time that a particular song was playing. Thereafter, they would have a mental episode whenever that song was played on the TV or Radio. He made sure that it was a popular song with people in their age group and their tastes. We suspected that he’d bugged their home while planning the crime and found out their musical tastes.”

“Ouch. Did they capture the rapist?”

“That bunch of idiots could not trap a fly with a swatter. I found the guy and followed him and after a couple of days, as he was about to rape another woman, I collared him. He went down for eight rapes and I got sent back to uniform much like you.”

“We certainly are a couple of square pegs in round holes.”

“That is one way of putting it.”

“What next?”

“We get out of here now that the car and your stuff is clean. One of the team here will leave before us and watch for a tail when we get onto the M4 but we need somewhere for you to stay.”

“Then, the M4 is going the wrong way. I have an aunt who lives just outside Brighton. But… don’t you have to give the car back and don’t you have a shift starting in a couple of hours?”

“No, and No. While the guys were scanning the car, I called the Chief Super who waved his magic wand and you are stuck with me for the duration.”

Roberta managed a smile.

“I hope that you will have the same opinion of me once you meet my Aunt Irene.”

He was about to say something but stopped.

“I’ll make a call to her just to give her a heads up,” said Roberta as she walked a few metres away from the car.

When she returned, she shook her head.

“There was no answer but she could be out shopping.”

“Does she have an answering machne?”

Roberta swore under her breath.

“I didn’t think… sorry.”

The sergeant smiled.

“Roberta, don’t let it get to you. Anyone else would have buckled under the pressure by now.”

Then he said,
“We should hit the road or we’ll get stuck in the M25 parking lot around Junction 11.”

[90 minutes later]

“Turn left here," said Roberta.

“This is a bit remote, isn’t it?”

“You can’t be remote in this part of the world. Sussex University is just two miles away. Brighton is four miles to the South West. Irene works there or rather, she did before she retired.”

“Ok, and you say that Antoine does not know about Irene?”

“As far as I know, no. When I knew Antoine, Irene was living in Boston and teaching at MIT. I never saw her between my… oh fuck.”

“Stop the car!”

The sergeant pulled over into the entrance to a field.

“Ok. What did I miss?”

“Not you, me. I am so stupid for not thinking of this earlier.”

He let her think things through.

“If he broke into our home in France to steal the photo of me at my confirmation then one of the other photos that were taken at the same time include Irene. There were letters from her to us as well. I hadn’t seen her since my christening until then. I never saw her again until just before my mother, her sister died. She was in the process of moving back to the UK when she died. His father came to her funeral out of respect. Irene’s address was on one of those letters.”

“You do seem to have a lot of baggage in your family.”

“That’s because we have been around for more centuries than I care to remember.”

“Ok. Do you think that Antoine could be waiting for us at your Aunt’s?”

“If I was him, that’s where I’d be. Irene’s is just about the only place that I could go once I left Dorset, and if we assume that my father’s flat in London is out of bounds.”

“Then I suggest that we make a tactical withdrawal and regroup somewhere not so close to your nemesis. As for not thinking about this possibility… I am not about to write anything off as being out of bounds at the moment.”

“Good Idea.”

The pair regrouped in an empty car park at the nearby Football Stadium [1]. A Jobsworth on the gate tried to stop them but a flash of warrant cards and his resistance melted away.

“It could well be time for some backup,” said the sergeant.

“That’s what I was thinking.”

“Do you think that he is armed?”

“I have no idea. I’m sure that Irene would not open her door to a stranger willingly. One of the reasons for coming back from the US was that her home near Boston was burgled as she slept. That put the fear of God into her when the local cops told her that she was lucky. One of the previous victims was shot by the intruder when they disturbed the intruder. He was killed a week later by a homeowner who slept with a Colt-45 under his pillow but that was enough for her… She resigned from MIT and came back here. Until she retired last year, she worked part-time at the University.”

“Then we need to try to see if there is someone there who shouldn’t be. If there is or at least a high probability that there is before we call in the cavalry.”

“How should we do that?”

“Let’s have a look at the map on our phones and see if there is a way to get close but not too close.”

Roberta shook her head.

“If I’m right, the only jacket you have with you is your yellow police jacket? From the dark clouds gathering to the west, we might be in for some wetness. Then you’d have to go close on your own because Antoine would be looking for me. He’s seen me up close. That may not be the case for you.”

“Ah… I get you.”

He turned to look over at the gatehouse.
“Do you think that the guard would let me borrow his jacket for an hour or so?”

“There is no harm in asking.”

They spent almost 10 minutes looking at a large-scale map of the area on their phones. Together, they were able to work out a way to get to within 400m of the cottage without being seen and the vantage point should be able to see if there was more than one car parked at the cottage.

Twenty minutes later, the unmarked car was parked just over the hill from the cottage. The security guard had needed a little encouragement to let the sergeant borrow his dark green waterproof jacket. A £20 note was more than enough to let him agree to their plan.

Their plan was for Roberta to remain with the car while the sergeant walked along a footpath that passed near the cottage. She would wait at the drop-off point for twenty minutes before heading to the end of the footpath to pick him up. If the Sergeant was seen walking the footpath, the observer would see him going only in one direction and hopefully assume that he was a walker. Antoine did not know the sergeant and unless the people working with Antoine had sent him a photo of him to Antoine, he was safe from recognition. It was a chance that he was willing to take.

The rain that Roberta had predicted arrived just as she dropped him off. This, while inconvenient would allow him to put up the hood to the jacket that would further hide his identity.

Fingers were crossed all around, as he set off over the downs which were fast becoming covered in low clouds.

Three-quarters of an hour later, a slightly wet sergeant got into the car at the end of the agreed route.

“Let’s get out of here pronto,” was all he’d say.

Roberta did as he requested and drove them back to the Football Stadium. The guard on the gate was pleased to get his jacket back just in time for him to do his rounds of the ground.

They parked up well away from the structure of the stadium.

“There are two vehicles there. One is a small rented van. The rental company branding is clearly visible even if it is hidden around the rear of the property. It has a black stripe on the roof… I have to assume that it is the same van as the one that tailed us on the M3 and that it came here right after we lost the tail at the junction with the M25.”

“Does that mean?”

“I think that we can assume that she has at least one visitor. There was no movement around the cottage, but that does not mean that I was not being watched.”

“What next?”

“First off, I report to the Chief Super. I’m sure that he’ll be biting his nails by now. We should have reported in hours ago.”

“You can blame me for that.”

“We are both involved in this operation, so there is no blame to be taken.”

The sergeant left the car to make a call to the Chief Superintendent. The conversation got a little animated when he mentioned the possibility of a hostage situation involving the fugitive, Antoine de Scuderi.

Roberta looked on anxiously as the call went on for almost 20 minutes before he returned to the car.

“That didn’t seem to go very well?”
The sergeant chuckled.

“He used the term ‘another fine mess that you have gotten me into’ more than once. I have heard it before, but it does not matter. When I explained to him about our theory about your childhood friend, he called the Chief Constable of the local boys and patched them into the call so I had to explain our theory again. As a result, we should be getting re-enforcements very soon. We need to get our story clear and concise for this lot. They will only be interested in the situation at the cottage and the arrest of Antoine if he is there, naturally.”

“I’ve been thinking that I should call Irene. I should have done that when I first thought of coming here. I know that I called once before but I did say that I’d call back later. It is ‘later’ right now.”

“But your brain was not firing on all cylinders?”

She managed a smile.

“Something like that.”

“When the SIO (Senior Investigative Officer) gets here you can suggest that. It might give us a hint about her being alone or not. When did you last see her?”

“Why?”

“Think about what you are going to say and try to phrase her possible answers to your questions. That may give you a hint as to her being alone or not. Only ask closed questions that give a yes or no answer. That way, things are less open to interpretation.”

“I get you.”

The first of the local Police arrived a few minutes later. The guard on the gate soon got the message that other vehicles would be joining them. He did something that kept the barrier in the raised position all the time.

One of the arrivals came over to us.

“I’m DCI Warrender. I’ve been assigned to be SIO for this operation. Are you Sergeant Heaney?”

“Yes sir. This is DC Galbraith. It is her Aunt’s Cottage where we suspect that Antoine de Scuderi is holed up with her aunt.”

“That’s the brief that I received from my Chief Constable. What is your reading of the situation?”

“Sir,” said Colin,

“I took a walk past the cottage on a nearby footpath. There are two vehicles at the cottage. One is a rental van. One of those small ones not the size of a large Transit. The problem is that the van is from one of the national chains so getting information about who rented it and where from etc, from them could be difficult in a timely manner especially as we don’t have the vehicle registration number.”

The SIO didn’t say anything in response so Colin continued.

“Sir, in case you didn’t know, Constable Galbraith knew the suspect from their childhood and was responsible for his initial arrest on art smuggling charges before he was deported to France to stand trial for more serious crimes. He has made a viable threat against her life in recent days.”

“That background helps a lot. Has anyone called the aunt?”

“Sir,” said Roberta.

“So far, we have not. We didn’t want to spook Antoine if he is there especially if he could just get in the van and leg it.”

Colin shook his head.

“Sergeant?” asked the SIO.

“Sir, PC Galbraith might just be an ordinary PC, but she is one hell of an investigator. She is right. Until we have a perimeter setup and especially get the lane to the cottage blocked off, we should not contact the cottage. Mr de Scuderi had proven himself to be a wily character.”

“I’m starting to get the idea that there is a lot more to this case than I thought. Correct?”

His question was directed to Roberta.

“Yes sir. There is a lot more. The French Police charged him with murdering his mother. He was 15 years old at the time. We used to spend the summer holidays together in France. Somehow, he got out on bail and came here to settle a score with me.”

“Let me get the lane blocked off and then you can make the call,” said the SIO.

Fifteen anxious minutes went by before a radio call caused the SIO to react.

“The lane is blocked at both ends. Time to make the call, Constable.”

Roberta took a deep breath and called her aunt.

She put her phone on speaker.

It rang.

After four rings, it went to the answering machine.

After the bleep, Roberta said,
“Aunt Irene, it is Roberta. Dad asked me to call because he thought that you needed cheering up. I am sad as today is the anniversary of Mum’s death. I’m going to put some flowers on her grave later. I’m sorry to have missed you. I’ll call back later.”

Then she hung up.

“Are you sure that there is someone home?” asked the SIO.

“I am,” said the Sergeant.

“There was a wisp of smoke from the chimney when I walked past.”

“Ok. Then we need to get a team close to the cottage.”

Roberta was getting a little frustrated. It seemed to be taking a very long time. She looked at her watch. Twelve minutes had elapsed from the time she made the call.

Just as the SIO was in the process of giving orders to that effect an urgent call came over the radio. A radio burst into life on the secure channel that the Sussex Police were using for the operation.

“A white Transit Combo has just tried to get past us.”

That was followed by.

“The vehicle saw us but as it was going at speed, it could not stop and it ended up in the ditch. A single male occupant is in custody. He has some minor injuries. We have called for the Paramedics.”

Roberta breathed a huge sigh of relief.

“Constable, can you identify this Antoine character?” asked the SIO.

“Yes sir. I would be honoured to do just that.”

“Sergeant, would you follow me to the scene?”

“Gladly Sir.”

The two cars arrived at the scene of the incident around 10 minutes later. Roberta hung back while the SIO received a report on the incident. A white transit ‘combo’ van was almost on its right-hand side in the ditch. The recent rain had filled it with muddy water. The passenger door was open which to her meant that the officers on the scene had to rescue the driver.

The SIO signalled to Roberta.

She walked over towards one of the Sussex Police cars. A shape was huddled up in the back of it. A local Sergeant opened the rear door so that Roberta could see the occupant more clearly.

She smiled as the passenger lifted up their head.

“Sir, I can confirm that this is Antoine De Scuderi.”

Antoine glared at her and then spat in her face. Luckily, she was too far away for it to hit her but the intent was clear.

“Thank you, Constable,” said the SIO.

“We can handle this character from now. I think that you should go and see your aunt and make sure that she is ok. One of my officers will go
with you just to check on her physical state.”

He turned around and called on a Constable.

“Constable Hughes. Please accompany Constable Galbraith to the cottage and check on the occupant.”

“Sir!”

Then he turned to one of the officers guarding the suspect.
“Constable, please fit a spit hood onto the subject. We have seen him try to spit on an officer. That is more than enough justification for the hood.”

“With pleasure sir,” said the officer.

Roberta and the female officer walked along the lane in silence. Roberta was in deep thought. She was hoping that her aunt had not been harmed by Antoine. She need not have worried. As they approached the cottage, the front door opened and a woman emerged.

“Roberta is that you?”

“Yes Aunt, it is me.”

The two hugged and the three of them went inside.

Constable Hughes got a statement from Aunt Irene about the incident over a cup of tea, before disappearing back to the scene of the accident almost half an hour after they had arrived at the cottage. A few minutes later, Sergeant Heaney drove up in his car. He was smiling as he
walked up to the front door.

“You look happy?” remarked Roberta after she had introduced him to her aunt.

“You should be even happier when you look at this.”

He showed Roberta a report on a news site on his phone.

The article was about a whole string of arrests in Tottenham relating to the distribution of hard drugs and that two serving officers had been arrested at the same time. One paragraph mentioned the suspicious death that Sergeant Hill had been so reluctant to investigate. Two people from those who had come down from Leeds were being charged with his murder and one of the officers who had been arrested was also charged as an accomplice to the murder. Roberta knew that they were talking about Sergeant Hill. He had been very reluctant to get involved with any investigation. The man had been identified as Omar Ferguson, a native of Leeds and suspected of being a key figure in the gang struggles that were going on in the city. It all began to make sense to Roberta.

Irene made the two of them stay for a very welcome cup of tea before they left and headed back to London.

As Colin drove them north, he said,

“That phone message of yours was brilliant. It certainly flushed him out.”

Roberta shook her head.

“I only thought about mentioning the anniversary when we left the stadium to take you on that walk earlier. There was this big sign promoting their next match that is tomorrow. It had the date. Then it clicked. I’d forgotten the date until then.”

The sergeant laughed.

“See what I said about not thinking like other officers? That my friend, is a perfect answer.”

Roberta blushed.

Inside, she was not looking forward to the attention that that the arrests of Inspector Barnes and Sergeant Hill would more than likely generate.
The next morning, Roberta reported for duty. The station was besieged by the media but they seemed more interested in CID and senior uniformed officers. She’d hardly set foot inside the building when the duty Inspector, called her into his office.

“Welcome back from wherever it was that you went. No one was saying anything. All my enquiries were met with a wall of silence. Care to explain Constable?”

“Sir, if you would read this.”

Roberta handed the officer a copy of the Daily Telegraph. On page two, there was a report on the recapture of Antoine de Scuderi and that he was going to be charged with false imprisonment. It also said that the French authorities were going to extradite him to Paris as soon as the relevant papers had been drawn up and signed by all parties.

“Were you somehow involved with this?”

“Yes Sir. He also made a direct threat on my life for the second time.”

Roberta showed him photos of the photograph and the hangman’s noose drawing.

“I think that I begin to understand a little more.”

Roberta shook her head.

“Does that mean that there is more?”

“Two things sir.

She swallowed hard.

“The arrest of DCI Barnes and Sergeant Hill.”

“Ah yes. The Drugs Squad and AC-12 swooped in on us and arrested them right here in the station just before the end of shift on Friday. The charges that they are facing, are mind-blowing. I can’t believe that we have two such bent cops right under our noses. They also arrested Sergeant Hill’s sister who worked as a receptionist at the AC-12 HQ on associated charges. AC-12 clearly had inside help but as no one is saying a word, I can’t help but think…think that you are somehow involved?”

Roberta smiled.

“Sir, they operated as cover for the main criminal operation. I’m talking about the art theft gang that we busted a while back. By operating very much on the periphery of our investigation, they were able to remain relatively inconspicuous. DCI Barnes was able to keep getting the SOCO teams involved with that case reassigned to other jobs. If SOCO had been able to give that lockup a full going over in one go, the CCTV system would have been found a lot earlier. That find was key in finding the solution to the murder.”

Roberta took a breath.

“Sir, I know that there will be more charges coming. I was working with AC-12 about their involvement in the art theft ring when I received information that they were now working with the gang from Leeds to flood the ‘Farm’ with bad smack and after the inevitable raids on the current drug dealers, the area would be wide open for them to move in.”

“You?”

“Yes Sir. I was just one of the sources of information that AC-12 used to make the arrests. They already had the DCI and Sergeant on their radar when I went to them with information. I can’t go into how I came upon that information I have to protect my sources.”

He shook his head.

“You said two things?”

Roberta took another deep breath.

“Two combined into one.”

After swallowing hard, she added,

“I want to be assigned back to CID. If you take this to the Chief Super, he can approve this.”

She handed him an envelope.

“Sir, that is my request for a transfer. If possible, away from the Met. I’m sure that more than a few people around here will only be too glad to see the back of me. Now that the DCI and Sergeant are under arrest, fingers will be pointed in my direction.”

“I will consider your request. In the meantime, I’m sure that the duty Sergeant has some nice tasks for you to do today.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Roberta had a lot of questions to answer from her fellow officers. Her sudden absence just before the arrest of two of their own was just too much of a coincidence. She did her best to deflect them with the article in the newspaper, but that simply raised more questions and rumours. She could not wait for the end of her shift. She needed some downtime.

That wish would have to wait as almost as soon as she’d dealt with her fellow officers, she was summoned back to the Inspector’s office. This time, he was not alone.

“PC Galbraith, this is DCI Munro from Edinburgh. He’d like to speak to you about the body that you and Sergeant Hill discovered on the Farm. As the Sergeant is otherwise engaged, it falls to you as you were first on the scene.”

His words puzzled Roberta.

“Sir? CID were all over the scene once he’d been declared dead. Surely, they would be better to ask than me?”

The Inspector smiled.

“Everyone in CID seemed to have taken the oath of omerta at the moment and are keeping their mouths firmly shut. The arrest of two colleagues has put the fear of God into them. None of them want to be implicated by accident. Besides, I read your report. You are exceedingly observant. It was only yesterday that the cause of death was made available. You were right, an injection in the neck.”

“Constable Galbraith,” said DCI Munro,

“The cause of death was an injection of Copper Sulphate. It was a lethal amount. The victim was well known to us. His name was Duncan MacLeod but went by a string of aliases including the now-deceased Omar Ferguson. He was part of a gang that worked the top hotels in the city. They’d prey on single women of a certain age.”

Roberta smiled.

“That explains the handmade shoes.”

“They were his signature.”

“Sir, how can I help you beyond what was in my report?”

“I understand that you look at crime scenes in a different way to most other officers. What was your take on the crime scene and the deceased in general.”

“Sir, it was clear to me that it was a body dump. What has bothered me is why Sergeant Hill spent so much time messaging someone while we waiting for the cavalry to arrive.”

“That is being investigated by AC-12,” said the Inspector.

“What else?”

“Sergeant Hill ordered me to drive into the Farm against standing orders. I questioned him but he was firm. We hadn’t gone far when we came upon the body. It was almost as if he expected to find the body there. He was very dismissive when I mentioned the injection mark in the neck. He was firm that the victim was a junkie who’d OD’d. I knew that something injected into his neck was the cause of death but Sergeant Hill made me exclude that from my report. From what you have said, I am puzzled as to why the victim was in London or why the body was dumped there. The only thing I can think of is that one of his targets was connected to this gang that was trying to destabilise the area. A dead body could have resulted in a much greater Police presence on the Farm yet we have kept our distance. So far it seems that the peace has been kept. That’s about all I know or can guess.”

DCI Munro smiled at Roberta.

“I think that you have summed up the situation very well. We know that the victim spent two nights in Harrogate before coming down to London two days before his untimely death.”

The DCI closed his notebook.

“Constable Galbraith, if you think of anything else, please give me a call. The Inspector has my number.”

“Sir?” asked Roberta.

“Who is running the investigation into his death?”

“Because this is a cross-border investigation, the NCA has taken control but we are running the show north of the border.”

“Thank you, sir. I will get in touch if there is something I have not mentioned.”

Roberta took her leave and went home deep in thought.

When she arrived home, Sergeant Heaney was waiting for her with a huge bunch of red roses.

“Are these for me?”

“Err… I don’t see anyone else around now do I?”

“Thank you. You had better come in.”

She let them into her home.

“It isn’t much, but it is home for the time being.”

“That sounds as if you are on the move?”

“I hope so. Things might get very awkward at the nick. DCI Barnes and Sergeant Hill have a good number of supporters on the job. I’m sure that they won’t go down without a fight.”

The sergeant smiled.

“Then it is time that you had some fun in your life. I owe you a meal, don’t I?”

“Oh! I’d forgotten about that. Yes, you do.”

“Then I’ll pick you up the day after tomorrow at seven. We are going posh ok!”

Roberta then did something that was totally out of character for her. She kissed him on the lips.

It was a struggle for Roberta to get to work on time the next morning. After the tensions of the previous few days, both of them needed something to relieve the stress. For Roberta, it was a day to remember, a day that she lost her ‘virginity’.

When she signed on for her shift, the duty Inspector took her aside.

“The Chief has approved your transfer request.”

He glared at her.

“Quite who would take such a misfit like you is beyond me!”

She shook her head. He was very ignorant of the real facts behind the recent upheavals at the station. The longer that went on, the better.
That made her day.

Two days later, Roberta received a summons to go to New Scotland Yard the next day. Her Inspector gleefully gave her the news.

“People only go there to get a real rocket from the big brass especially as the request mentions ‘full dress uniform’. I don’t know what it is that you have done, but many of us are only too glad to be seeing the back of you very soon.”

Not everyone at the station agreed with the Inspector. A few uniformed officers made it discretely known to her that she would be missed. They had guessed that she was behind the recent arrests of their fellow officers. Those two officers were not well-liked and would not be a loss to the station.

The icing on the cake was for her to find a large bunch of flowers propped up against the door to her home. There was a note.

“You will be missed. You came up with the goods when needed. Thank you. Leroy.”

That brought a tear to her face. He might be the boss of a gang of criminals, but he did have a heart.

Her meeting at New Scotland Yard was low key which pleased Roberta.

The Police Commissioner presented Roberta with a commendation.
“This is the second time that you have earned one of these. I know your wish for this to remain out of the Police Gazette. As per your request, no announcement will appear in the Gazette, but your record will be updated to show that you have earned two commendations for work above and beyond the call of duty. For a Constable, that is extraordinary and I am honoured to have met you. I wish that we had more officers who approach policing like you do, on the force.”

Roberta's Father and the Home Secretary were there to witness the event.

After she had received the award, the Commissioner introduced her to an officer who had kept very much in the background during the formal part of the proceedings.

“Constable Galbraith… or rather Detective Constable Galbraith, this is Chief Superintendent Callan of Thames Valley Police. I think that might be interested in what he has to say.”

[the end]
[1] Home to Brighton and Hove Albion aka ‘the Seagulls’.
[Authors Note]
This is not the end of my ‘Roberta Galbraith’ stories. I have one under development but it is a long way from publication.

I'm posting this a day early as I'm off on Holiday to France tonight. I'll be on the 20:15 ferry from Portsmouth to St Malo. Tomorrow, I have a 350 mile ride ahead of me.