Read Online The Blue Notes by J. J. Salkeld - Free Book Online

So what would you do, in my position?’
    ‘I think you already know that.’
    ‘Aye. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t think we had a problem.’
    ‘Exactly. Call it instinct if you like, but I’m almost certain. I wish I wasn’t, but I am.’
     
    Mary Clark got up, and walked to her window. She looked out for a few seconds and then turned back to Pepper.
    ‘And you’ve no idea about the level or type of person who might be involved in this, if it happening?’
    ‘No. But that’s what the Professional Standards lot are for. They’ll soon narrow the field, I can promise you that.’
    ‘I’m sorry if this is difficult for you, but I do have to ask you about one officer in particular.’
    ‘Oh, aye? And that would be DC Copeland, would it?’
    ‘Mud sticks, Pepper, we all know that. And that business down at the Met, it didn’t look good.’
    ‘He was never even disciplined, ma’am. His record is clean. And I’ve seen nothing, absolutely nothing, to make me believe that he’s anything other than an excellent, dedicated officer. I wish we had ten more like him.’
    ‘All right, point taken. I’ll tell you what, Pepper. I’ll email you in a minute, and ask you to summarise what you’ve just said. Then I’ll forward it to the Super who runs Professional Standards, and ask for his opinion. He might just knock it back, and if he does then at least he’s involved in making the decision.’
    ‘I’m no politician, ma’am, but par for the course for old Peter Perfect would be to bounce the question straight back to you again, so it’s all on you. He’d bat the final decision back ’til Doomsday, even if all our case files were turning up on the bloody internet. It’s how people get to be senior officers, ma’am. Present company excepted, like.’
     
    Mary Clark laughed this time. ‘Christ, Pepper, if the chips on your shoulder were any bigger they’d want salt and vinegar, love. And how are you anyway, after that punch up? I hear that a knight in shining armour rode to your rescue. Is that right?’
    ‘Aye, sort of.’
    ‘Well, when you’re finished with him would you mind sending him my way, love?’
    ‘Not a chance. It’s finders, keepers, is that. But actually I’m going to have to go and find him later, when I’m off duty.’
    ‘Blimey, you don’t hang about.’
    ‘No, not that, though I wouldn’t say no, like. One of the lads we nicked after the punch up made threats against Davey Hood, the lad who stepped in to help me and DC Copeland, and I want to give him a heads up.’
    Mary Clark laughed. ‘I bet you do, love. I bet you bloody do.’
     
     
     
    Davey Hood had a shower when he got back from work, an office move in Whitehaven, and wondered when he’d be too old for the piano shifting game. Another five years? Ten, if he was lucky? The stuff today had all been bloody heavy, and proved conclusively that the paperless office wouldn’t come anything like soon enough for him. He still enjoyed the work, though. The craic with the lads, and the physical pleasure of the effort involved. That feeling of perspiration bubbling up on the hairline, and the relief when you got to put the really big stuff down, your shoulders straining and your knees locked. He liked being hungry after too, really hungry. It reminded him of when he’d been in the army, when everyone sat and ate in the dark in silence after a long patrol. But then he’d never minded a bit of sand in his curry.
     
    He made himself a big bowl of pasta, threw in some tuna and veg from the fridge, and ate the lot. Then he watched the Super League match on TV, and afterwards turned on his computer. He’d been to Baker’s yard before, on a night time visit, but he just wanted to remind himself of the layout. His big barrel was empty again, so he’d come away with a decent fill-up tonight, and it couldn’t happen to a nicer bloke than Baker.
     
    He knew that all too well, because soon after he’d set up his own little