The best part of Ryan’s recreational training in Manchester was the hint of what was to come in this interesting, long and varied career he had ahead of him. Hostage negotiation, terrorist prevention training, undercover work … there were so many ways to develop as a police officer. They’d had a talk from an officer who trained people under the reasonable-force legislation and he’d stood there, at the very front of the lecture theatre. The officer said one of the most interesting sentences Ryan had ever heard in his life: ‘Coppers, when it comes down to it, can be pretty neatly divided into two types: those who can kill when they need to, and those who can’t.’
The hairs on Ryan’s arms had raised up. Which was he? Could he do it, pull a trigger, if the situation dictated it?
And so, today, thinking about that interesting lecture, it is doubly disappointing to be told by Jamie that not only is he being taken off
response calls to do research but also that there are no spare offices for him: they have set a desk up in the cleaner’s cupboard for him, will that be okay? Ryan is happy to work in a cupboard, yes, but doing what?
He looks around it. It’s freezing. No heating, and it’s cold outside. Grey linoleum floor. Rows of shelving, a desk moved in temporarily with a letter rack on it. A corkboard and a mop bucket lean against the wall. That’s it. To be fair, they did remove the rest of the cleaning stuff.
Leo arrives in the cupboard, looking harassed. ‘God, how small is this room?’ he says. ‘None of the cells free?’ He carelessly grabs a sheet of
paper sitting in the letter rack. It’s lined, and he turns it over to the plain side. ‘All right. Shut that door,’ he says to Jamie, who steps away from it.
Finally, Ryan is going to get an explanation. ‘So –’ he begins to say. ‘This is what we know.’ Leo talks over him in that way that he does.
‘There are two different organized-crime operations trading in this area, right? They overlap but, roughly speaking, one is nicking cars and one is importing drugs. The money from both is then funnelled.’ He dots a ballpoint pen on the paper, then draws an arrow upwards. ‘We have the
names from surveillance of three suppliers who we haven’t yet arrested. But we’re looking for the importers – one rung above them.’
Ryan nods eagerly. ‘Yep, I understand all that.’
‘Right, anyway, next,’ Leo continues. ‘The gang consists of two arms – drugs and thefts. The drugs come in, but the same port workers turn a blind eye to what goes out, which is the other arm: stolen cars. Other men, we think’ – he draws a box away from the arrows, the pen dragging across the paper – ‘are stealing cars. They take them overnight, get them to the port, then they’re gone, before the owners are even awake, to the Middle East.
They then launder the money. The two ops never cross.’ ‘Obviously,’ Ryan says.
‘Is it – obvious?’ ‘My brother …’
‘Yes, the brother,’ Leo says. ‘Tell us more about the brother.’ He sits forward, his eyes shining strangely.
‘I did disclose him to HR and vetting,’ Ryan says, panicking.
Leo makes an impatient gesture. ‘I know. I waved it through. I’m not suspicious. It’s helpful to us – your brother. Who better to work out the who’s who of a gang than someone who’s witnessed how these people operate?’
‘I see …’ Ryan says slowly.
‘So – would his ops be separate, too?’
‘Yes, always. Like, you’d never use a stolen car to import drugs. You’d get nicked immediately.’
‘Right,’ Leo says. ‘Right. Can you tell us more about him? He was quite a lot older than you – right? But same dad?’ Question after question after question.
‘Don’t mind Leo,’ Jamie says drily. ‘He has a one-track mind when he gets going.’
‘Answers, please,’ Leo says.
‘Yes,’ Ryan says. ‘Okay, well … a fair bit older than me, yes. He got mixed up in some stuff. I don’t know, we were quite … we were quite angry, I guess. He’s always – we both always – have had this ambition. But his became a bit misguided. He needed money, and he started dealing drugs.’
‘What drugs? Just so we can talk – you know. Skill sets.’
‘Well – he just … er, he just progressed in a totally clichéd way. Puff, then coke, then gear.’
‘Did he bring the gear home?’ Leo watches Ryan intently. ‘Sometimes.’
‘Did you see it?’
‘I mean, yeah,’ Ryan says, blinking.
‘If we had some gear now, how would you open it?’
‘Like a cracker,’ Ryan says, without even having to think about it. ‘Exactly!’ Leo exclaims. He thumps the table. Leo frightens Ryan. He
might indeed be one of those crazy-genius types. Or he might just be mad. ‘I helped him a lot. It invades your life, gear, doesn’t it? I was curious. In
the end’ – Ryan gives a despairing laugh – ‘I was fucking cutting it with him.’
‘Good. Good knowledge to have.’
Ryan says nothing, about as confused as he’s ever been.
Leo glances at Jamie, then speaks. ‘We’ll have a job for you, after your research,’ Leo says. He picks his tea up and finishes it in three noisy gulps. He places it on the table. ‘If you’re interested.’
‘Very,’ Ryan says, looking directly at Leo.
‘We need someone brainy. Know why? This gang has probably got a nerd in it. Right? Someone who’s working stuff out for them. Some sort of foot soldier.’
‘Okay.’
‘So we need our own nerd,’ Leo says, reaching over to touch Ryan lightly on the shoulder, ‘to analyse that information. Not only that, we need a nerd who actually knows how this shit works. We know three of the dealers, but none of the car thieves. We need their names, faces, how they relate to each other. A big old family tree of crime. You up for that?’ He gestures to the corkboard. ‘So your task is to watch every minute of that CCTV and see who brings the cars. Okay?’
‘Oh right, yeah,’ Ryan says. He becomes aware of his heartbeat. A strong, clean, excited thudding in his chest.
‘Then when we know who they are and their movements, we’ll catch them in the act. You know – as close to entrapment as we can while staying legal,’ he says easily.
Even Ryan’s arms and legs feel excited, as if he could get up and do star jumps. Finally, something that fucking matters. Something that he might be good at. Something where he could change the world.
Leo grabs the corkboard and sets it on the desk. Ryan loves the drama of it. The cut and thrust of policing. Here he is: home. Leo pins the piece of paper on the board and on it he writes a name. ‘This bloke works at the port. And he’s bent. Turns a blind eye and allows stolen cars on. We got him on the very corner of CCTV. Haven’t nicked him yet as we want to see what sort of cog he is in the machine. All right?’
Ryan looks at the paper pinned up there: Ezra Michaels. ‘See who brings the cars to Ezra. Okay?’ Leo says.
‘And then …’ Ryan says, looking up at Leo hopefully. ‘Once we know a bit more about them … I mean’ – he gestures to Leo’s scruffy clothes, to Jamie’s hat – ‘I’ve got your department right, haven’t I? Covert?’
‘Yes,’ Leo says simply, communicating something that, until now, has remained unsaid. ‘Undercover.’
