The B-Team (Benson Security)

Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

Detective Inspector Singh ensured her black hair was tight in the bun at the base of her neck and her charcoal pantsuit was speck-free before approaching her boss. Commander Fitzwater was very particular about his team’s apparel. He’d even interrupted important briefings to reprimand officers for their unkempt—in his opinion—appearance.

Satisfied that she’d meet his exacting standards, she knocked on the door of the small office in the custody suite that he’d claimed as his own for the duration of the interview period. He sat behind the old desk, ramrod straight, perusing some paperwork.

“Sir,” DI Singh said, “do you have a second to go over how you’d like to proceed with the interviews?”

“Of course.” He clasped his hands in front of him on the desk, his beady eyes assessing her. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, he nodded to the wooden chair on the other side of his desk. “Please be seated.”

She had no clear evidence, but DI Maya Singh suspected Commander Fitzwater didn’t approve of women on the force. Either that or he didn’t approve of ethnic minorities on the force. Or in general. It was there in the tight almost-sneer that tugged at his mouth whenever he addressed her. Which wasn’t often. He preferred to address whichever white male officer happened to be nearest.

Maya didn’t speak again. The commander knew why she was there, and he didn’t like reminders.

He cleared his throat. “I want to leave interviewing the Benson Security owners until we’ve gathered information from their subordinates. That way, we’ll be able to confront them with more evidence. You and DI Stark can start interviewing staff lower down the totem pole while I work on those higher up. The women on the team might find it easier to open up to a fellow female, so please split the list between you with this in mind.”

Her jaw clenched briefly; however, she knew her expression betrayed none of the anger she felt. Usually, she took lead with all suspects, as she had more experience with interviewing than Stark. Or the commander, for that matter.

“We should call in some more detectives to help with the interviews, sir,” she said evenly. “We’re going to run out of time to hold the suspects and may not get around to talking to all of them.”

His lips curved in the approximation of a smile. One that oozed superiority. “That won’t be a problem. With terrorism charges on the table, we can hold everyone for up to fourteen days.”

Maya took a slow breath before replying. “About the terrorism charges, sir. I’m not sure any of them will stick. In fact, I’m not sure that what we have even fits the criteria for terrorism.”

His eyes narrowed as his chin rose. Even seated, he had no problem letting her know he looked down on her.

“That is why we have interviews, Detective Inspector.” His tone was patronizing. “We will gather the evidence we need to substantiate the charges.”

“I understand that sir.” It was hard work keeping her own tone respectful. “But, on several occasions, Benson Security has helped our government combat terrorism. Harry Boyle, one of their founding owners, designed the software that keeps our country safe. It’s hard to imagine his company perpetrating acts of terrorism against the same government they’ve worked to protect.”

“Mr. Boyle is no longer involved with Benson Security and hasn’t been for many years. He has nothing to do with this investigation.”

“There are other factors too, sir,” Maya pressed. “Lake Benson and Callum McKay were both decorated SAS officers. They served their country and fought against terrorism. Why would they attack it now?”

The commander sniffed. “Who knows why criminals choose to break the law? But I suspect we’ll find a financial motive at the core of the rot in Benson Security. There is far too much money floating around in that business.”

“Some of their employees are independently wealthy,” Maya reminded him. “Ms. Ford-Talbot is worth millions.”

He frowned. “Yes, we’ll need to call in a forensic accountant to get to the bottom of what money is coming from where.” He made a note on the pad in front of him.

Maya felt like she was talking to one of those conspiracy theorists who flourished online. “About the terrorism charges, sir. A few years ago, Callum McKay and the rest of the London team foiled a terrorist operation in Scotland. Why would they do that while planning their own acts of terrorism?”

“Professional competition? To ensure the authorities would continue to ignore what they were doing in private? Who knows what their reasons were?” He waved a dismissive hand. “What we do know is that on several occasions, Benson Security has hacked into secure government databases. They have carried out operations within this city without the cooperation or knowledge of the police forces tasked with protecting it. They’ve endangered the public, caused community damage, and believe they are above the law. These are acts of terrorism. Acts intended to scare, control, and infiltrate our very society. These people have broken laws, and it’s our job to ensure they pay for doing so.”

“Yes, sir.” Maya stood and tugged down her jacket. “It might be difficult to prove they’ve broken laws when they worked closely with your predecessor and kept her informed of their actions.” She stared straight at him, refusing to blink. “She gave her permission.”

“Ms. Sharp was wrong.” The commander stood and gestured to the door. “That is why she’s in prison and I am here. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must prepare for my interviews.”

“Sir.” Maya turned toward the door.

There was nothing more she could say. For months, she’d tried to convince the commander his investigation was going nowhere. Benson Security was well-connected. It was staffed with former government officials—mainly from the armed forces and security agencies, both in the UK and abroad. It had a stellar reputation and was generally trusted. And, as she’d pointed out again today, they often did favors for the British government. No matter which way Maya looked at it, she couldn’t see how Fitzwater would make the terrorism charges stick. In fact, once you started digging, much of Benson Security’s behavior could be considered self-defense. Or even in defense of the public. It felt like the commander was caught in a sinkhole and determined to take them all down with him.

Then it hit her.

Commander Fitzwater wasn’t an idiot. What if he hadn’t been blinded by his desire to ruin Lake Benson? What if he didn’t even care about making the charges stick? What if this was all about something else entirely?

A chill ran down her spine as every single one of her cop instincts screamed at her to stand up and take notice. It was clear Fitzwater had an agenda, and now she suspected it ran much deeper than she’d initially thought. Something was definitely off. And she’d been dragged into the middle of it. Whatever Fitzwater was up to could have long-lasting consequences for her reputation and career. There was a good chance neither of them would survive this investigation.

“DI Singh,” the commander called after her as she strode toward the door. “I want regular updates on your interviews.”

“Yes, sir.” She glanced back at him: the despot in control of his kingdom.

“Excuse us, DI,” a voice said, making her realize she was about to walk into a fellow officer in the corridor outside the commander’s office.

The young constable was escorting Rachel Ford-Talbot—minus her handbag and phone, which had been taken during processing.

“What’s going on here?” Maya asked. “Why isn’t Ms. Ford-Talbot in one of the holding rooms?”

The constable opened his mouth to speak, but Rachel beat him to it. “Because they’re unhygienic and barbaric,” she said in that plummy voice of hers. “Not to mention you’ve decided that two people can share a single cell. A cell with one toilet, out in the open, for all to see.”

“Perhaps you haven’t noticed,” Maya said, “but we’re a bit overcrowded. You aren’t being put with a stranger. We’ve housed you with another female member of Benson Security.”

“I don’t care if I’m sharing with the queen consort herself. I still wouldn’t want her to watch me toilet. For the love of Prada, having privacy in the bathroom is a basic human right. At least it is for those civilized enough to realize it.” She waved a hand. “I’ve no idea what the proletariat considers normal these days, but in proper society, one does not use communal toilets.”

Maya wanted to rub her temples, where a headache was brewing. But she suspected that any show of weakness around Rachel Ford-Talbot would not be a good idea.

“Is that what this is about? The toilet?” she asked the constable.

“Of course not,” Rachel snapped. “I refuse to go into the cell, which means the lavatory situation is neither here nor there. This is about priorities. I wish to be interviewed first, as I have no intention of staying here any longer than necessary.”

“Ms. Ford-Talbot,” Maya said with long-suffering, “you’ve been taken into custody. What you want, and when you want it, isn’t the priority here. Investigative procedure is.”

“I don’t think so,” Rachel said before raising her voice. “Commander Fitzwater, if you want to talk to me, I suggest you do so now—unless you wish to do it in the delivery suite. Because I do believe that the stress of being unjustly detained has brought on early labor.”

Maya glanced at the constable, who gave her a “what could I do?” shrug.

“What’s going on out here?” Commander Fitzwater demanded as he joined them in the corridor. “Why isn’t that woman in a holding cell?”

“Because,” Rachel said, unintimidated, “ that woman is having contractions. Which means that woman is in danger of giving birth in this filthy and completely inappropriate location.” She dismissed the commander, literally turning her back on him to address Maya. “Kindly ensure that man meets me in the interview room right now. Otherwise, I shall check out of this delightful facility and into a suite in the Lindo Wing of St. Mary’s Hospital. Constable, please lead me to the interview room and ensure my lawyer is instructed to meet me there.”

The officer, who’d turned red, shot a wide-eyed look of confusion tinged with fear at the commander before following Rachel down the hallway.

Fitzwater's face was purple with fury. “Get that woman into a cell now.”

Maya’s head was pounding. “I’m not sure how we can achieve that, sir. She’s almost nine months pregnant, hasn’t been officially charged with anything yet, and is currently having contractions. If we physically manhandle her into a cell, she has every right to sue us, and the press will lap it up. We could, legally, ask the nurse to examine her, but all that would result in is Ms. Ford-Talbot being moved to the nearest hospital. It seems the only option is to question her now while she’s still able to participate in an interview.”

The commander’s fists clenched at his sides. “I will not be dictated to by a woman.”

Maya said nothing about his misogynistic comment. She just waited for him to realize he’d been outplayed. Rachel had the power in this situation. Not him.

Rachel’s lawyer, Ms. Patel, appeared at the end of the corridor. “Commander,” she said in her crisp, no-nonsense voice. “I have no idea how long my client will be willing to remain here, so I suggest we start the interview now.”

“Your client will stay here as long as I decide she’ll stay,” Fitzwater snapped.

Ms. Patel arched an eyebrow. “There are legal limits on how long you can hold anyone for questioning without bringing charges, Commander. And no court in the land would sanction you holding a woman in a detention cell when she is about to give birth.” She glanced at her watch. “If the interview hasn’t started in ten minutes, I’ll arrange to have my client moved to the hospital of her choice.” With that, she turned on her heel and disappeared around the corner.

“How dare she tell me what to do!” Fitzwater fumed. “I’m the one in charge here. I’m in control.”

Maya wished she would melt into the wall behind her. As the only other person in the vicinity, she waited for the commander to blame her for his humiliation.

It didn’t take long.

Slowly, he turned his head toward her, and dark eyes glared her way. “Is this how you control your suspects, DI Singh?”

“No, sir. It seems these are exceptional circumstances. How would you have me proceed?”

As she watched him, she could almost see her career disappearing down the nearest toilet. One of the toilets Rachel Ford-Talbot deemed beneath her.

“ You will interview Ms. Ford-Talbot,” he said with disdain. “Make sure you get the information I want, Singh. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir. Excuse me, sir.”

Maya hurried away before anything else could fall on her head. No matter how this interview went, it wouldn’t please her boss. A sinking feeling made her stomach lurch. She knew how Fitzwater worked. As soon as this investigation was over, she’d find herself sidelined for the foreseeable future and probably bad-mouthed too. The man was vindictive. No grudge was too small to be beneath him.

Maybe it was time to start applying to other police forces.