The Enemy Within by Sally Spencer Page A

food.
    â€˜Sorry to be so late, Chief Inspector,’ he said.
    â€˜That’s all right, I had a nice chat with your missus,’ Woodend replied. ‘What was the problem? Difficulties with your son?’
    â€˜With my stepson,’ Bryant corrected him automatically. Then the Editor’s eyes narrowed. ‘What makes you ask that?’
    â€˜There just seemed to be a bit of tension between you.’
    â€˜He was angry, but his anger wasn’t directed at me,’ Bryant said. ‘At least, it wasn’t directed
specifically
at me. You must understand that the boy’s been through some difficulties, and it’s taking him a while to readjust. But I’m not unduly worried. Richard has many fine qualities, and he’ll come right in the end.’
    The waiter appeared with his notepad. ‘Are you ready to order now, Mr Bryant, sir?’
    Bryant shook his head. ‘No, given that I’m starting a little late, I think I’ll skip lunch and just have a gin and tonic.’ He turned to Woodend. ‘I’ve been meaning to arrange a lunchtime meeting with you for weeks, but somehow I never quite got round to it. But now’s the time, if there ever was one, isn’t it?’
    â€˜Is it?’ Woodend replied. ‘Why?’
    â€˜Because of the murder last night.’
    â€˜Would you like to spell out exactly what you mean – just so there’s no misunderstandin’?’ Woodend asked cautiously.
    Bryant laughed. ‘You think I’m here to ask for special access to police sources, don’t you?’
    â€˜It wouldn’t be the first time that kind of thing’s happened.’
    â€˜Well, it’s not happening now. Quite the reverse, in fact. I’m here to offer you the services of my newspaper – and that offer is unconditional.’
    â€˜Again, I’d be happier if you spelled it out,’ Woodend said.
    â€˜Very well. We’re already printing the dead woman’s photograph in our next edition, though I’ve no doubt you’ll have identified her by the time it hits the street. We’re also more than willing to give prominence to any other appeal you want to make. And, of course, you can rely on a favourable editorial. I’m not in the business of attacking the police.’ Bryant paused. ‘At least, I’m not in the habit of attacking them unless they’re completely incompetent – and even if I didn’t know your reputation, I can see just from looking at you that you’re far from that.’
    â€˜I always get a little bit worried when people start to flatter me, Mr Bryant,’ Woodend said.
    â€˜I don’t blame you,’ Bryant responded. ‘But it’s not flattery to say that you’re good at your job, just as it’s not conceit for me to say that I’m good at mine. It’s a realistic assessment of the situation as it exists.’
    â€˜An’ the most dangerous kind of flattery is the kind which says it’s not flattery at all.’
    Bryant laughed. ‘I can’t really believe you’re as cynical as you seem, Chief Inspector.’
    â€˜Can’t you? Why’s that?’
    â€˜Because nobody is.’ Bryant’s gin and tonic arrived, and he took a small sip. ‘There is one other way I can help you,’ he continued, growing more serious again.
    â€˜An’ what way might that be?’
    â€˜During the course of my career, the police have approached me several times with a request to plant false information in the paper – information aimed solely at misleading the man they’re seeking. I’m not unique in this, I know, but I also know that some of my colleagues have refused to co-operate because they say it will damage their reputations. I’m not like that. I’ve always put duty before reputation, and if it helps, in even a small way, to catch a dangerous criminal, I’ll print any lie you