‘I did nothing of the sort,’ said Ross, breaking a golden rule.
‘My colleague and I,’ said the constable, looking to his left, ‘witnessed you breaking Section 36（1） of the Road Traffic Act 1988. Could I see your driving licence please?’
Ross handed over his warrant card.
‘This is not your driving licence, sir,’ said the constable, handing it back.
‘I don’t have my licence with me.’
‘Then I’ll need to take down your particulars, sir,’ said the constable as he extracted a notebook and Biro from his top pocket.
‘Which I suspect you already know, constable,’ said Ross.
‘This shouldn’t take long,’ replied the officer, ignoring the comment.
‘How long?’ said Ross.
‘I beg your pardon, sir?’
‘How long did they tell you to delay me?’
‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, sir.’
‘How long?’ repeated Ross.
‘Ten minutes, sir,’ admitted the constable.
Ross had to grudgingly admire Warwick. He might have had the face of a choirboy, but he didn’t take prisoners. He was beginning to believe he was, as Jackie had suggested, the natural successor to The Hawk. However, he still had a surprise in store for the Detective Chief Inspector before the day was out.
‘Can I go now you’ve served your purpose?’ Ross asked, innocently.
The constable checked his watch. ‘Yes, of course, sir. But perhaps you could drive more carefully in the future.’
? ? ?
Paul called in to report that Verenich had only had to clench a fist to ensure Sleeman’s second client coughed up.
‘Take advantage of it,’ said William. ‘Interview the man and see if you can get a statement from him that would stand up in court.’
‘On my way,’ said Paul.
‘The Toyota’s just driven past me,’ said Rebecca. ‘I’ll call back when he reaches his next collection point.’
‘What’s your position, Danny?’
‘I’ll take over from DC Pankhurst when he comes back out.’
‘What I can’t work out,’ said Jackie, as William switched off the radio, ‘is why they’re always at home when Verenich turns up.’
‘If they weren’t, it would be their wives who answered the door,’ said William, ‘and then they’d get grief from both sides.’
A red light began flashing. William flicked a switch.
‘Good morning, sir. It’s Inspector Watts of the drug squad. Do you have a moment?’
‘I’m a bit preoccupied at the moment, Inspector, so unless it’s important …’
‘It concerns a certain Darren Carter, sir, but I can call back later.’
‘You have my attention, Inspector.’
‘I arrested Carter last night while he was on duty outside the Eve Club, and charged him with possession and intent to supply three ounces of heroin, four wraps of top-grade cocaine and several bags of cannabis.’
‘He can’t be that stupid,’ said William.
‘He’s swearing blind we planted the gear on him, but we were given the tip-off by a member of the public, and we have it all on tape.’
‘Did the call come to you direct, Inspector, or from the 999 switchboard?’
‘Direct, sir.’ Watts paused. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘I’ll tell you when I’ve listened to the tape. So, where’s Carter now?’
‘Locked up in the local nick, where he’ll stay until he appears in front of a magistrate later today and applies for bail.’
‘The Beak will tell him to get lost,’ said William.
‘I’d agree with you, sir, if he wasn’t being represented by Mr Booth Watson QC. I confess that came as a bit of a surprise.’
‘It doesn’t surprise me,’ said William. ‘Carter’s no more than a side-show. Booth Watson’s fees will be covered by a Mr Staples, the owner of the Eve Club, who’d lose his licence if his doorman was convicted of selling Class A drugs. Make sure you take every opportunity to refer to the defendant’s previous record, including his conviction for manslaughter, because I’m hoping to end up with two for the price of one. Keep me briefed.’
‘Will do, sir.’
‘Do you think it could have been Ross who planted the drugs on him?’ said Jackie, after he’d switched off the radio.
‘Not a risk he’d take,’ said William. ‘But he knows a dozen dips who could have carried out that job at the drop of a hat, quite literally.’