"Who the hell are you?"
"He's CIB, John," Deakin answered from where he stood in his office doorway.
The man looked up briefly. "DS Cartwright - and this is DCI Rand. You're under investigation for accepting money to pervert the course of justice."
Boulton just stood there; blood drumming in his ears and mouth literally hanging open. He saw the scene in front of him as though it was a stage with the spotlight on his desk. Cartwright, dark-haired and rumpled looking, was carefully stacking case files on his desk while Rand watched from his position in front of the computer. He was grey haired and wore an expensive suit and an old school tie but what transfixed Boulton was the evidence bag he held - an evidence bag which bulged with a wad of twenty pound notes. Boulton swallowed and shivered, suddenly cold. He looked at his two colleagues - Beech, sitting, sombre, at his desk, and Deakin, face unreadable, leaning against the doorway of his office.
"Guv, about the Welkin St Post Office job-"
"John, forget it. Geoff and Don will be taking over your cases."
Boulton waited, waited for Deakin to add " -until you're back." Nothing happened. He looked again at the evidence bag of money, saw in memory Proctor and Duncan hurrying past him on the stairs without a word and realised that he was gone. He steadied his voice with an effort.
"How the hell am I in the frame?"
"We received a tip-off."
"You received a tip-off! You mean I've been grassed up by some little lowlife who's got a grudge against me?"
Boulton was shouting by now. He took a step closer to DS Cartwright who stood up, unworried.
"It came from a police officer actually. Word was Jimmy Smith had a Sun Hill senior officer in his pocket but we couldn't narrow it down - then this came in"
"That'll do, Col. Caution him and we'll be off."
"I'm arresting you on suspicion of"
The words beat around Boulton's head like the black-winged birds of a nightmare. They were words so familiar that he could have recited them backwards but now only meaningless snatches got through.
" don't have to say anything but it"
Cartwright was picking up a pile of folders from his desk.
"something you later rely on"
Rand shook Deakin's hand and came around the desk to join the two of them.
"Anything you do say"
Cartwright took his arm and led him towards the door. Jack Meadows was there, looking as though he'd trodden in something very nasty.
"may be given in evidence."
The doors swung shut behind them and there was silence in the office. It was Beech who spoke first. He shook his head.
"Terrible business, this."
Face almost piously solemn he got up.
"That Welkin St job, Guv - I'll go and put myself around a bit?"
It was Meadows who answered.
"Yeah, Don, off you go."
Meadows came over to where Chris Deakin stood, still looking at Boulton's disembowelled desk.
"I would never have picked him."
"No, sir," agreed Deakin, watching the door swing shut behind Beech. He looked back at Meadows.
"Guv. What do we do now?"
"He'll be interviewed at Belgravia so we wait, and make damned sure everything is tidy at this end. This doesn't look good for either of us, Chris."
It was 11:40 when Meadows made his way through a night-darkened CID office to the DI's office. He was carrying a bottle of scotch and two plastic cups.
"It's over, Chris."
"John admitted it?" There was disbelief in his voice.
Meadows poured the scotch. "No. He went for DCI Rand - broke his cheekbone. He's being charged with assault."
Meadows downed his scotch while Deakin moodily swirled his around in the plastic cup.
"It's over, Chris. There's nothing any of us can do for him now. He'll go down on the corruption charges too, even without an admission. Bloody idiot."
"Yeah," agreed Deakin, tasting his scotch. "Bloody idiot."