Hamish didn’t respond, but unscrewed the top of the hip flask and took another long gulp, before screwing the top back on and placing it in an inside pocket.
? ? ?
Commander Hawksby sat at his desk, thinking about his next meeting and the potential consequences of getting it wrong. He knew they called him ‘The Hawk’ behind his back, which he considered a compliment – but it wouldn’t be too long before he retired and he didn’t want his reputation to be damaged so late in his career. DI Ross Hogan was the missing piece in the jigsaw that would complete the picture.
William Warwick was the natural leader of the team but DS Adaja, impressive though he was, was not ready to take on the role of second-in-command. DS Roycroft wouldn’t have wanted the job, while DC Pankhurst would in time overtake both of them, but not yet.
The Hawk didn’t need to check Ross Hogan’s record. He’d served four years with the SAS, before joining the Met. He’d spent only a couple of years on the beat before taking his detective’s exam and joining the murder squad. Four years later he was among those chosen few to go undercover, where he found his calling. If a group of rebels had formed a gang, he would have been their leader. He had a Queen’s Gallantry Medal, three official warnings, and a suspension for sleeping with a suspect to complete his CV. However, The Hawk knew he couldn’t leave him undercover for much longer. If Ross was ever to return to the real world and still be capable of obeying an order, it had to be before it was too late for him to change his ways. Was it already too late? Would he resign?
Ross had already played a crucial role in gathering enough evidence to convict Miles Faulkner and get him sent down, even going to prison himself to gather the necessary evidence. Even risk-takers considered him a risk-taker.
When Faulkner escaped, Ross had gone AWOL and become even more determined to snap the handcuffs back on him, because he never believed for one moment that Faulkner was dead.
There was a knock on the door.
‘Enter,’ said The Hawk.
Anyone who’d seen the man who walked into Commander Hawksby’s office that morning would never have believed he was a police officer. Dressed in a grubby T-shirt, torn jeans and a leather jacket, Ross Hogan looked more like a bother boy than an upholder of the law.
‘Good morning, sir,’ he said as he sat down.
The Hawk stared at his secret weapon, wondering how he would break the news, but Ross came to his rescue.
‘As you called me into the Yard for this morning’s meeting, sir, should I assume my days as an undercover officer are numbered?’
‘Over,’ said The Hawk. ‘You’ve been in the field for far too long, Ross. Although you’ll be almost impossible to replace, I’ve decided it’s time for you to rejoin the human race.’
‘Which humans did you have in mind, sir?’
‘I’ve recently set up a small cold case unit to deal with unsolved murders, some of which have been gathering dust for years.’
‘Who’ll be the SIO in charge of the unit?’
‘Chief Inspector Warwick.’
Ross nodded. ‘I’ve watched him at close quarters over the past couple of years, and I wasn’t surprised by his promotion. How exactly would I fit in?’
‘The rest of the team consists of DS Paul Adaja, DS Jackie Roycroft and DC Rebecca Pankhurst, all fine officers. But I want you, Detective Inspector Hogan, to act as William’s second-in-command.’
Ross smiled. ‘Is there an alternative, sir?’
‘Yes, you could return to your old patch in Chiswick, as a traffic warden.’
‘Or I could resign.’
‘You’re unemployable,’ said The Hawk, unable to resist a smile. ‘Unless you plan to end up as a seedy private eye, eavesdropping on errant husbands, which is hardly your style.’
‘When do I start?’
‘Chief Inspector Warwick will be back in ten days’ time. He’s presently having a well-earned holiday on the high seas, so I suggest you also take a break until he returns. Just make sure you’ve shaved and have a bath before you meet the choirboy.’
‘No one will recognize me,’ said Ross.
‘That’s all part of my plan,’ said the commander.
? ? ?
Franco was pouring hot chocolate sauce over a large portion of vanilla ice cream when a woman’s shrill scream echoed round the dining room. Beth swung around to see Fraser Buchanan leaning forward, shaking and gasping for breath as he clung to the edge of the table.
Dr Lockhart leapt up and was quickly by his side. He untied the chairman’s bow tie and loosened the collar of his dress shirt. Franco rushed across to join him.