The Graveyard Shift. Jack Higgins
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Название: The Graveyard Shift
Автор: Jack Higgins
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Исторические приключения
Серия: The Nick Miller Trilogy
isbn: 9780007290529
isbn:
‘A real tearaway?’
Grant shook his head. ‘That was never Garvald’s style. Controlled force – violence when necessary, that was his motto. He was a commando in Korea. Invalided out in ’51 with a leg wound. Left him with a slight limp.’
‘Sounds a real hard case. Shall I get his papers?’
‘First we need someone to handle him.’ Grant pulled a file forward, opened it quickly and ran his fingers down a list. ‘Graham’s still on that rape case at Moorend. Varley went to a factory break-in Maske Lane way an hour ago. Gregory, sick. Lawrence, sick. Forbes, gone to Manchester as a witness in that fraud case coming up tomorrow.’
‘What about Garner?’
‘Still helping out in “C” Division. They haven’t got a plain clothes man capable of standing on his own two feet out there at the moment.’
‘And every man a backlog of thirty or more cases at least to work through,’ Brady said.
Grant got to his feet, walked to the window and stared down into the rain. ‘I wonder what the bloody civilians would say if they knew that tonight we’ve only got five out in the whole of Central Division.’
Brady coughed. ‘There’s always Miller, sir.’
‘Miller?’ Grant said blankly.
‘Detective Sergeant Miller, sir,’ Brady stressed the title slightly. ‘I heard he finished the course at Bramshill last week.’
There was nothing obvious in his tone and yet Grant knew what was implied. Under the new regulations any constable who successfully completed the one year Special Course at the Police College at Bramshill House had to be promoted substantive sergeant immediately on returning to his force, a source of much bitterness to long-serving police officers who had either come up the hard way or were still awaiting promotion.
‘I was forgetting him. He’s the bloke with the law degree, isn’t he?’ Grant said, not because he needed the information, but mainly to see what the other man’s reaction would be.
‘So they tell me,’ Brady replied, a knife edge to his voice that carried with it all the long-serving officer’s contempt for the ‘book man.’
‘I’ve only met him once. That was when I was on the interviewing panel that considered his application for Bramshill. His record seemed pretty good. Three years on the pavement in Central Division so he must have seen life. As I remember, he was first on the spot after the Leadenhall Street bank raid. It was after that the old man decided to transfer him to the CID. He did a year in “E” Division with Charlie Parker. Charlie thinks he’s got just about everything a good copper needs these days.’
‘Including a brother with enough money to see him all right for fancy cars,’ Brady said. ‘He turned up for parade once in an E-type Jag. Did you know about that?’
Grant nodded. ‘I also heard he took Big Billy McGuire into the gym and gave him the hiding of his life after Billy had let the air out of the tyres on the same car. They tell me that Billy says he can use himself and that’s praise from a master.’
‘Fancy tricks, big words,’ Brady said contemptuously. ‘Can he catch thieves, that’s the point.’
‘Charlie Parker seems to think so. He wanted him back in “E” Division.’
Brady frowned quickly. ‘Where’s he going, then?’
‘He’s joining us,’ Grant said. ‘The old man gave me the word this afternoon.’
Brady took a deep breath and swallowed back his anger. ‘Roses all the way for some people. It took me nineteen years, and at that I’m still a constable.’
‘That’s life, Jack,’ Grant said calmly. ‘Miller’s supposed to be on leave till Monday.’
‘Can I roust him out?’
‘I don’t see why not. If he’s coming to work for us, he might as well get started. His phone number’s on the file. Tell him to report in straight away. No excuses.’
A slight, acid smile burned the edges of Brady’s mouth and he turned away with his small triumph. As the door closed, Grant lit another cigarette and walked to the window.
A good man, Jack Brady. Solid, dependable. Give him an order and he’d follow it to the letter which was why he was still a Detective Constable, would be till the day he retired.
But Miller was something different. Miller and his kind were what they needed – needed desperately if they were ever to cope with a situation that got more out of hand month by month.
He went back to his chair, stubbed out his cigarette and started to work his way through the mountain of paper work that littered his desk.
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