Judi-with-an-i looked him over and said, “You’re quite tall, aren’t you?” in a fashion that told him she had doubts about how things were going to go, considering his height.
“Tha’d be the case,” he replied.
“How?” she asked.
“Genetic. Whole family’s tall.”
She said, “I meant how tall are you, not how did you come to be so tall.”
“Oh. Sorry. Six feet, five inches. Near to six. Inches, that is.”
Judi-with-an-i nodded. “Right. Well, you look it, don’t you.” She rang the assistant commissioner and told him DS Nkata had arrived. She listened for a moment, said, “Certainly,” and then to Nkata, “Go right in. Attempt to look shorter if you can. It’ll help.”
Nkata wasn’t certain how he was supposed to manage looking shorter, but he hoped for the best, stooped his shoulders a bit, and entered Hillier’s office. The first things he saw, aside from Hillier himself, who was standing behind his desk with his knuckles on its surface, were the tabloids. They were spread across his desktop, and it looked to Nkata as if the AC had put his hands on every tabloid in London. No doubt the Press Office had provided them. Behind his desk was an enviable bank of windows from which the tops of the trees in St. James’s Park billowed green against a cloudless, pale blue sky.
Hillier looked up from the newspapers. Nkata hadn’t yet seen the day’s news but he reckoned that if Hillier wanted to see someone and if that person arrived to a collection of London’s front pages, the outcome of this encounter was not likely to be hearing the praise of “a job well done.”
Hillier’s eyes narrowed in his florid face. He said, “And your superior officer is where?”
“Lower Clapton. He’s fetching the victim’s mobile and having a go with the bloke who had her transferred.”
“That’s it, is it?”
“He’s showing him some pictures ’s well.”
Hillier gestured to the tabloids, saying, “Let’s hope he has improved ones by now. No one is going to ring Crimestoppers over these.” He looked up from the tabloids to say, “Did you bring them with you?”
Nkata glanced down at the folders he was carrying. Truth to tell, he wasn’t at all sure what he had or why he’d brought it. He said, “The better pictures? The guv di’n’t get them from the digital techs till late, sir. Rest of us don’t have copies yet.”
Hillier evaluated this in silence before he said, “You’re loyal, aren’t you?”
“Sir?”
“To Lynley. You’re loyal to him. That’s a fine quality, Sergeant.”
Nkata wasn’t sure what he was meant to say in reply, so he merely nodded. A phone rang outside the office, probably on the desk of Judi-with-an-i.
“See that you get me copies of the better pictures directly.”
Nkata looked away for a moment, evaluating the order. He said to Hillier, “To hand to the media, sir?”
“To do with as I see fit.”
“I’s only that . . .” Nkata wasn’t sure how to play this particular scene.
“That what?” Hillier had a tone, he did. It sounded the way cold steel felt.
“DI Lynley doesn’ want the responsible party to know we got better pictures, sir.”
“You did hear me, didn’t you?” Hillier asked. “I wasn’t making a suggestion, Sergeant.”
“Oh. Yeah. Right. It’s only that if the pictures go out and one or two or whatever number of them do show the killer, we’re playing our hand.”
“That’s one interpretation,” Hillier said. “There are others of which I doubt you are aware.”
Nkata said, “Yes, sir.”
“And may I ask,” Hillier enquired, “what is Lynley doing with two DSs when he needs only one? I’ve asked him but so far he’s managed to avoid an explanation. And I can’t imagine Sergeant Havers has sought other employment, however that might be ardently wished for.”
“Problem ’s with the cutbacks.” Nkata was grateful to be on firmer ground at the same time as he was determined to lead Hillier away from Barb Havers. “Jus’ now? With what’s going on with DS Bontempi’s murder? We’re trying to pull everything together but we got only two DCs on loan from DI Hale. One of ’em ’s watching the CCTV from the building where DS Bontempi lived and from two shops ’cross the street. The other’s watching film on Streatham High Road for cars and taxis round her building on the day she got attacked. We got a bunch ’f nothing out of that on the day of the attack, so the DC’s moved back in time to see what she can see couple of days in advance. She’s taking down number plates, sending it off to Swansea, and getting the information from them. There’s no ANPR in the area.”