In the Absence of Iles by Bill James

you could say a punishment attack. Because they were deceived, fooled, they may in retaliation behave as though the officer had actually been a proper member of the firm, not a detective playing a role. He is seen as a traitor – a turncoat who gives away gang secrets. This they would treat as the most contemptible and unforgivable act.’
    ‘Finking,’ the judge said.
    ‘Exactly, Your Honour,’ Channing said.
    ‘And in both cases – the practical, and shall we call it the philosophical? – in both cases the violence might lead to torture and murder?’ Longmuir said.
    ‘Yes.’
    The judge stirred again. Longmuir’s strutting, woozy word, ‘philosophical’, may have irritated. ‘These questions are very general, Mr Longmuir. Shall we return soon to the case before us?’
    ‘Your Honour, we shall. I wanted to establish a context,’ Longmuir said.
    ‘Context is very well, I suppose – the, as it were, hinterland. But I’d rather not get bogged down in it – would like to press on and into essentials, please.’
    ‘I will demonstrate, Your Honour, that the accused was motivated in both ways cited by the witness, the practical and the philosophical.’
    ‘Well, we shall be listening, Mr Longmuir,’ she said, ‘or, as I believe the Americans say, “listening up”. They’re ever ready to improve our language.’
    ‘Finking’, ‘listening up’: she must want to show she could do slang – especially US, gangs-of-New York slang – and wasn’t liable like Longmuir to the ponciness of ‘philosophical’ and such flab. Dean Martlew’s father sat not far from Esther in the public seats, square-faced, square-bodied, grey hair in a pony-tail, around sixty, with rimless glasses. He owned a couple of landscaping firms and was clearly able to take time off when he wanted. As a courtesy, she’d been to see him and the rest of the family soon after discovery of Dean’s body at Pastel Head beach, and instantly sensed the hostility and blame. Although at that time the family could only have been guessing at the nature of Dean’s special duties, this was enough. In their view, Esther had put him into extreme risk. Well, in her view, too. She’d met no open accusation, no rudeness, but no friendliness either.
    Perhaps the father attended all day every day: always when she came he was here. And, although the judge might consider some of Longmuir QC’s questions far out, Martlew obviously didn’t. He sat forward, jaw tight, eyes hard, very focused on every answer. He, at least, could see the link between Dean’s death and the lawyer’s court strategy. Perhaps this was the first time the father had heard in detail about Dean’s assignment, and the dangers: ‘the context’, as Longmuir called it. Dean Martlew would have been repeatedly instructed by Channing, and at Hilston, to tell nobody, including kin, that he had volunteered for Out-loc. Esther wondered how Iles and his empathy store had got on with the family. In the court room, Martlew would give her a slight, civil, smile and nod, and nothing beyond, no words.
    ‘I would like now, Superintendent Channing, to take you to what in Her Honour’s word would be one of the “essentials” – the discovery of Dean Martlew’s body. You were present shortly after the discovery, were you not?’
    ‘I received a message that the body of a young man, at that stage not officially identified, had been found by early morning fishermen on the beach below Pastel Head. I went there at once.’
    ‘Would the call come to you because you had been managing the undercover officer?’
    ‘Surely not, surely not,’ the judge said. ‘As I understand it, this was a secret operation.’
    ‘That’s correct, Your Honour,’ Channing said.
    ‘Thank you, Your Honour,’ Longmuir said.
    ‘There had been no positive identification at that stage,’ Channing said, ‘and, in any case, it would not be known to any officers other than my immediate superiors that I was running