Chapter 72
‘You’ve been spying on us,’ Poe said. ‘Electronic surveillance.’
‘We have,’ Gilliard replied. ‘And like I said, it was all above board.’
‘What about our phones?’
Gilliard said nothing. Reddened.
Poe nodded in understanding. ‘If you had authorisation to put in cameras and listening devices, you almost certainly had authorisation to tap our phones.’
‘I don’t have to explain NCA tactics to a civil—’
‘But for some reason your techs, possibly even this tech,’ Poe continued, pointing at Gotobed, ‘couldn’t do it. You tried tapping them, but nothing happened. It’s why you went all Cold War on us. Drilled holes in the ceiling. Planted bugs. Eavesdropped the old-fashioned way.’
‘I got the job done.’
‘Yet a more curious person might have stopped to consider why you couldn’t tap our phones in the first place.’
‘I’m sure—’
‘But you didn’t. You ploughed on regardless. And let me tell you, in the annals of own goals, not wondering why you couldn’t tap our phones was a doozy of a mistake. A legendary screw-up.’
‘A doozy?’ Gilliard said, mocking.
His smile didn’t reach his eyes, though, Poe noticed.
He was worried. Had probably wondered why his support people hadn’t been able to execute the basic task of phone surveillance.
He’d probably been fobbed off with some electronic bullshit excuse.
Something he hadn’t understood but now wished he’d taken the time to challenge more robustly.
‘Yes, a doozy,’ Poe said. ‘Because while all you’ll get from spying on me is some musical burping, what you get from spying on Tilly is a whole new thing.’
‘I fail to see how.’
‘That, Chief Inspector, is obvious. What do you know about her?’
‘Evidently she’s a lot brighter than Mr Gotobed gave her credit for. Other than that, she’s just a PI. She has the same standing, the same rights as you – i.e. no rights at all.’
‘Uh-uh, wrong answer,’ Poe said, doing his best Family Fortunes impression.
‘I think you’re about to find out that Tilly has more rights, more protection than anyone in this room.
We had a meeting earlier this week, before your guy was up in our loft, when she told one of our initially reluctant sources that she is authorised to receive and disseminate information all the way up to exceptionally controlled intelligence. ’
‘What’s that?’
‘If you’ve never heard of it, you aren’t authorised to know it exists. The only reason I’m telling you now is to get you into even more trouble.’
Gilliard smirked. Sceptical again.
Poe pressed a button on the office phone: one that Bradshaw had pre-programmed, one she’d made him practise twice. An amplified dialling tone rang through the room.
‘Speak,’ a man with an aristocratic voice said.
‘Alastor, I hope I’ve caught you at a bad time?’ Poe said.
‘I’m just about to go into a Cabinet meeting, Poe. What do you want?’
‘What the hell is this?’ Gilliard said.
‘Who is that person, Poe?’ Locke said. ‘And why does he think he can talk to me like that?’
‘This is Detective Chief Inspector Gilliard, Alastor,’ Poe said. ‘He used to be with the NCA’s Organised Crime Command.’
‘Used to be? I take it this man has irked you in some way?’
‘Everyone irks me, Alastor. But no, this man has unwittingly irked you.’
‘Yet I am unaware of his existence.’
‘He’s been running a surveillance operation on Tilly.’
Silence.
Poe broke it. ‘He’s arrested her. He’s about to seize her computer.’
More silence.
Poe broke it again. ‘Seize is spelled ei, not ie, by the way. Sieze is Romanian for “sit down”.’
Locke ignored him. ‘Mr Gilliard,’ he said, ‘in five minutes your phone is going to ring. You’ll answer it and you’ll do everything you’re instructed to.’
‘I don’t even know who you—’
‘Is that CLEAR?’
‘Look, Mr Plummy Voice,’ Gilliard said, ‘I have no idea who you are, or why you think you can talk to a chief inspector in the National Crime Agency this way. How I conduct my operations is my business, not yours.’
‘I am a very senior figure in His Majesty’s Security Service, Mr Gilliard.
Unless you have a signed letter from either the prime minister or the home secretary authorising you to conduct a surveillance operation on one of my assets, I am required to take the position that it is an unauthorised operation.
You are now a threat to national security and that very much puts it in my wheelhouse.
Do you understand how much trouble you’re in? ’
Gilliard mumbled a yes.
‘I didn’t quite catch that.’
‘Yes.’
‘Yes what?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Poe, please take their phones,’ Locke said.
‘And I need you to isolate Mr Gilliard until my people arrive. They’ll be coming from Manchester, so it may take some time.
Can you stay with him until he receives his telephone call from the home secretary?
She’ll be in a foul mood; you know how much she hates surprises. ’
‘No, Alastor, I don’t know that.’
Locke hung up.
Gilliard slumped into a seat. He removed a handkerchief from his coat pocket. Mopped his brow.
‘Guess that’s more than a slap on the wrist, asshole,’ Esmerée said. ‘What happens when you fuck with people you shouldn’t fuck with.’
Poe glanced at her. Shook his head. It was over. He’d won. There was no need to grandstand.
‘How was I to know?’ Gilliard said. ‘How could I possibly know Miss Bradshaw was an MI5 asset.’
Poe shrugged. ‘The fact that you couldn’t tap our phones should have at least raised a red flag, Chief Inspector.’
‘I’m no threat to national security. He must know that.’
‘Why must he?’ Poe said. ‘Because if you think the security services are in the business of giving the benefit of the doubt, you haven’t been watching the news.’
‘But I didn’t know!’
‘Won’t make a jot of difference to Alastor Locke. A threat, imagined or not, is, in his words, robustly dealt with.’
Gilliard put his head in his hands. Rubbed his face. Then he looked up and nodded. He handed Poe his mobile phone. ‘Can I wait in your reception area?’ he asked. ‘And I need to call my wife. Would it be OK if I use your landline?’
‘If you can work out how to,’ Poe said. ‘But don’t be hasty. There is a way out of this.’
Gilliard lifted his head. Held Poe’s eye. ‘There is?’
Poe glanced at his watch. ‘It’ll take at least two hours for Alastor’s guys to arrive. That’s how long you have to convince me you’re not a threat to national security.’
‘And how do I do that?’
‘First of all, I need Go to Bed Early to leave.’
‘Why?’
‘Because he’s a gloater. And in my experience, gloaters can’t be trusted.’
‘And Detective Constable Hawksworth?’
‘Susan can stay.’
‘Andrew, please wait outside Mr Poe’s offices. Don’t leave this floor, though.’
‘Maybe he can get the hippy to read his palm,’ Esmerée said.
‘Who are you?’ Gilliard asked.
‘Uh-oh, Chief Inspector,’ Poe said. ‘From now on, I ask the questions.’