Gagged & Bound by Natasha Cooper Page A

unfortunate that there seems to have been one more inhabitant of the house than was actually caught.’
    ‘What happened to him?’
    ‘Fled over the roofs, taking his rifle with him.’
    ‘That sounds altogether too neat and well planned.’
    ‘Perhaps. Even so, it’s still considered to be no more than an unhappy accident.’
    ‘Why?’ Grogan’s voice was almost harsh.
    ‘I’m sorry?’
    ‘I just wondered why everyone is so sure Taft was wrong about this.’
    Martin Wight sighed. It was right that his officers should be dogged, but it was tedious to have to make explanations one would really prefer to keep private.
    ‘I mean,’ James went on, ‘I’ve heard that although she was a highly tiresome woman, her campaigns against individual officers were always sincere and often successful in the end,
once the powers that be got over their shock at what she was telling them. Couldn’t that be the case here?’
    ‘Apparently not. She’s been banging this particular drum for some time, and I understand it stems from an incident when she and Crayley were living together. He couldn’t cope with her conviction that there was conspiracy hiding behind every filing cabinet and sexism inside every jockstrap. He left and married her best friend. The calls to the whistle-blower’s helpline started only a month or so after the marriage.’
    ‘I see. Poor woman.’
    ‘Yes. But poor Crayley too. The accusations, which had been vague in the extreme, became more detailed and grimmer each time she reported them. The latest batch has been accompanied, I understand, by a suggestion of corroboration. The woman was vindictive. She didn’t deserve to be shot, but she’s been a damn nuisance for well over a year.’
    James Grogan saw a rat climb to the top of one of the tall bins and begin to insinuate itself under the lid.
    ‘Ugh!’ He walked back to stand in front of the desk. ‘So, are you still inclined to take Crayley on?’
    ‘I haven’t yet had all the vetting reports or the psychiatric assessments. Once they’re in, we can meet again and make our decision. You’ll be fully informed.’
    ‘But I take it he is still your preferred candidate?’
    ‘On balance, yes. He’s had more experience than any of the women.’ Martin rubbed the loose skin under his chin. ‘And I feel a certain sympathy for him over this long-standing campaign to discredit him. If there is anything doubtful about him, it’ll surface in the positive vetting. I’m keeping an open mind until I get the reports.’
    ‘So I see,’ said Grogan, trying to avoid sounding sarcastic.
     
    Trish got the news when Nessa came back to chambers with their lunch. She’d heard it on the radio in the sandwich shop.
    ‘A police officer’s been killed,’ she said, disentangling her cheese-and-pickle on brown from Trish’s roast-vegetable ciabatta. ‘On a drugs raid this morning. Shot, poor woman. It’s all over the news.’
    Trish felt her eyebrows snapping together in the frown she still had to fight, even now. It can’t be Caro, she told herself. She’s far too senior to go out on drugs raids.
    ‘Did you get a name, Nessa?’
    ‘Stephanie something, I think. I wasn’t really concentrating.’ Nessa looked apologetically at Trish as she handed over the sandwich. ‘You know how it is when you’re juggling coins and knowing everyone in the queue wants to throttle you for taking so long. Here’s your change.’
    ‘Great. Thanks.’ Trish took a bite, and felt slippery red pepper squishing out of the side of her mouth. It was hard to eat something like this cleanly at the best of times, and impossible to make conversation while you did it. Luckily Nessa was already back at work. Trish pushed the pepper back into her mouth with her left thumb and tried to follow her example, looking down at the notes she’d made on her car-leasing contract brief. They were almost done. And very dull.
    She was still chewing when Caro phoned, wanting another