26 March 1993
He'd barely slept the night before, his mind going over and over what he knew was going to take place that day. It was odd, in a way. He'd lost count of how many jobs like this he'd overseen in his entire police career and yet something about this one was causing his brain to work overtime, to run scenario after scenario in his head even though he knew there was nothing to be done except deal with whatever the day threw at him.
Christina had been late home from work and, perhaps sensing his own anxiety, had said little to him, other than to ask if he was all right. His response had been vague, aware that there was little point in opening up a dialogue about it and she was savvy enough to know when the best course of action was simply to leave him be. He realised later that courtesy and a mutual appreciation of one another probably dictated that he should have asked her about her own day, but the moment had passed by then, and she didn't seem particularly in the mood to share details.
Not that he had entirely eschewed her, however. Through the darkness he had reached for her, with no words, the light skim of his fingers against her skin all it appeared to have needed to intimate his intentions. She had responded with eagerness, as though she had anticipated his need for her, and their bodies had risen and fallen together on familiar waves of pleasure.
"I thought the rule was no sex before a big job," she had said breathlessly as he had pushed himself deeper inside her.
"Maybe for the foot soldiers," he had replied, "but I'm the boss and don't tell me you didn't want this. You were soaking before I even touched you." She hadn't said anything in response, merely laughing before they both powered to their own individual ends.
"Be safe today," she said, as he lifted his car keys and turned towards the door.
"I always am," he replied, kissing her.
"I know, but…"
"What?" he asked when she didn't continue. "Something wrong?"
"No, nothing's wrong. I just…want you to be careful, that's all."
Though he sensed that she wasn't being entirely open with him, a glance at the clock told him that he had no time to delve into a deep conversation about it and mentally filed it away to discuss later. "I will be," he replied, kissing her again before heading out into the car for the relatively short drive to the station.
Once there, he was gratified that the troops from SO19 were already in attendance and ready for the briefing. There was nothing that irritated him more than tardiness when a big job was on and therefore, he was less than impressed when he stepped into the briefing room only to be told that Viv had yet to make an appearance. No doubt her assignation the night before had made her sloppy.
"Right gentlemen," he said, addressing those who had bothered to get out of their beds on time. "The Essex and Colchester Building Society plc, Haldane Street branch. Information is the blag will be pulled sometime after eleven. Now, according to my snout, the blaggers will be armed, hence the involvement of SO19. This is Sergeant Wilson who'll be leading the team. Now we can expect three bodies on this, two of them we're not sure about, but there's money on the third being Tom Varney." He held up a mugshot. "He's just done a nine for shooting a security guard. We're looking at them using a white Ford Transit and that's the original index," he pointed to the white board on the wall, "but pound to a penny they'll be using false plates. All right, any questions?" Everyone shook their heads. "Right, quick coffee and then we're moving."
"You all right Guv?" Jim asked as they left the briefing room and made their way to the canteen.
"Course, why shouldn't I be?"
"I dunno, you just look a bit on edge, that's all."
"The day you stop being on edge about a big job, Carver, is the day you should be leaving the force." He paused, catching sight of Viv coming through the doors up ahead. "Oh, here we go."
"What's happening with the blag, Guv?" she asked, heading towards him. "Who am I paired with?"
The fact that she hadn't even bothered to offer an explanation as to why she was late irritated him even more than he knew it rationally should. "You're not."
"I'm not?"
"You're late."
"Yeah, my car broke down. Uniform gave me a lift in."
"Yeah, and the rest."
"Well go and check if you don't believe me," she said, following him into the canteen. "So, what am I doing?"
"You're manning the fort."
"Well Tosh drew the short straw, I'm down for this op. Meadows said."
"The DCI is not running this. Now it's not my fault; you missed the briefing."
"All right, I missed the briefing. I'm sorry."
"Sorry nothing!" he replied, irritated further by her tone. "You don't do your homework; you don't come to the party!"
"Well, somebody can fill me in."
"We're out of here in five minutes. Trevor's taking your place. He managed to make it to the briefing."
"Yeah well…" Viv squared up to him. "You wouldn't want a woman spoiling your jolly boys outing anyway, would you? I mean, that's what this is all about."
"What this is about, Martella, is commitment."
"I am committed," she replied acerbically, before storming out of the room.
"Don't tell me about it love, show me," he muttered in her wake, ripping open a packet of sugar and tipping it into his coffee. "I wouldn't get that sort of cheek from other female officers."
"What, like from Chris?" Jim said, looking at him sideways.
"She knows where the line is, unlike some others." Memories of how Viv had chosen to speak to him in the past about his relationship with Christina came flooding back and did nothing to temper his annoyance. Whatever made her think it was acceptable for her to be so blasé about the fact she had missed such an important briefing, and then try to make out he was in the wrong for pulling her off the job was definitely going to be the subject of further discussion once the day's events had passed.
XXXX
An hour into the operation and, to his ever-increasing annoyance, there was still no sign of anything happening at the building society.
"Greig from Burnside. Anything happening at your end, Alistair?"
"Nah, all quiet Guv."
He tossed the radio back onto the dashboard. "Terrific."
Jim glanced over at him. "Viv wasn't happy, was she?"
"No, she wasn't. Tough titty."
"Would you have pulled Chris off the job if she'd been late."
"Course I would have. I never gave her any special treatment, Jim. If she couldn't make it in time, she'd have been counting beans too."
"Burnside from Grieg." The radio crackled. "A white transit van coming down Haldane Street."
"Finally…" peering out of the window, he caught sight of the van in question, moving questionably slowly down the street towards them and he felt himself hold his breath as the driver craned his neck to look towards the door of the building society. He could see two other men inside. This had to be it.
A few seconds later, however, a youth sprinted past the car window, followed closely by a uniformed officer. "I don't believe this! Sierra Oscar from Burnside! Get that bloody idiot off Haldane Street before he gets himself shot!"
The driver of the van, catching sight of the police presence, suddenly put his foot down and began speeding away from the scene.
"Go on, stop him!" he yelled to Jim, who pulled the car out into the middle of the road, causing an immediate collision with the van.
"Oi! You pillock!" the van driver yelled, jumping out and rushing over to Jim's door. "What about some indication!"
The force of the collision had momentarily caused him to lose his breath and, seconds later, Sergeant Wilson, and the rest of SO19 burst into the street, weapons drawn, and started yelling at the driver, and the other occupants of the van to get on the ground.
"Guv…" Jim said, his voice slightly shaky. "I can't see Varney."
"For Christ's sake…" forcing open the buckled car door, he climbed out and moved into the street, looking at the three men, now on their knees on the ground, and had to admit that Jim was right. There was no sign of Varney.
It wasn't them.
Just as he was about to grab the nearest bloke by the lapels and demand to know what the hell was going on, the radio suddenly crackled, and Tony's panicked voice came across the airwaves.
"Sierra Oscar from 595! Viv's been shot!"
The air around him seemed to still and looking over to where Jim, Alan and Alistair were standing, he realised from the looks on their faces that they had heard the same message.
"Repeat previous Tony," the CAD officer responded, meeting only silence. "595 receiving…595 receiving?"
"It's Viv," Tony said again, his tone flat. "She's dead."
XXXX
"So, how did you get on last night?" Kim asked, coming to hover next to her desk.
"Ok Ma'am, but…it was a bit odd."
"How do you mean, odd?"
"Well, Harry turned up and he approached me and bought me a drink and we talked a bit about a few things."
"What sort of things?"
"Well…the fact that Frank and I are married, the fact that Harry's moved to the Robbery Squad…" she paused. "There was something a bit funny about his tone though. I said, conversationally, that Frank used to be in the Robbery Squad a long time ago and Harry said something like, 'maybe he could put a good word in for me'. I don't know, it just seemed an odd thing to say. He's already in the squad, so why would he need anyone to put a word in?"
"Hmm…what was his demeanour overall?"
"Quite…sad actually."
"Sad?"
"Yes, as though something was really bugging him, but he didn't tell me any details. He seemed to buy the fact that I'm at Barton Street. He didn't give any indication that he knew I worked here now."
"Well, that's something at least." Kim paused. "What do you think the next steps should be? Another meeting at the pub?"
She shook her head. "No, I think that would be too obvious Ma'am. It's a place I never usually go to, that he's never seen me in before and then I turn up there two nights on the trot? I reckon he'd smell something was up. I was thinking more along the lines of giving him a tip-off."
"In what sense?"
"Well, you gave me the information about that fake blag that's apparently due to go down next week. Now that I know he's in the Robbery Squad, and given we ran into each other, coincidentally, last night, you could say that it wouldn't be out with the realm of possibility that, having heard a whisper, I might decide to drop him the information. I mean, given that the impression he gave me was that he wasn't exactly a trusted member of the squad, he might see this as a way to ingratiate himself. He might be grateful."
"Yes, I suppose so."
"And I was also thinking that if it turns out he isn't the mole, and it's someone else in the squad, then we might be able to recruit him."
"But all the intelligence suggests that it is him."
"I know that Ma'am but…" she shook her head. "I'd never have pegged Harry for being bent. A sweaty oaf with a penchant for the bevy, yes, but not bent. If he is, and he's getting something out of all this information he's passing on, he certainly didn't look too pleased about it."
"Not everyone who walks on the other side of the line actually enjoys it though."
"No, I realise that but…I don't know, maybe I'm just being too trusting. Though I don't know why. I'm pretty sure he covered up a lot of things for my ex-husband when they were in the Drugs Squad together."
"What sort of things?"
"Not work-related things, more personal things." There seemed little point in going into chapter and verse about how she suspected Stewart had been regularly unfaithful. She wasn't exactly the clean potato on that front either, and didn't Kim know it.
"I see…" Kim nodded slowly. "Well, I think it's a good idea. Though you probably shouldn't go to see him alone. Take David with you."
"Wouldn't it be better to go alone though, Ma'am? If I go with David, Harry might suspect something. If this is meant to be a tip off from someone who's sort of a friend, in the loose sense of the word, it would surely be done one-on-one, wouldn't it?"
Kim paused. "All right. Have the meeting with Harry alone if you can, but have David nearby, just in case anything happens. I doubt Frank would be too happy if he knew I'd deliberately put you in some form of harm's way."
The mention of her husband made her mind suddenly fly back to the baby, not that she had forgotten about it. Sense dictated that she tell Kim right then and there, but the doctor's appointment that had taken her hours to get was still two days away and she hadn't even told Frank himself yet. He had been too agitated the previous evening for the news to have had any real impact or for him to react as she hoped he would. Depending on how the blag had gone down that afternoon, she was considering telling him that evening.
"Yes Ma'am. I'll make sure he's within shouting distance, just in case."
"Good," Kim smiled. "I'll leave you to it then."
"Thank you, Ma'am," she replied, watching as the other woman headed back into her office. There was definitely something nice about having her trust to go out and handle things on her own. If this had been Frank's show, no doubt he would have found some tactic in order to convince her to do it a different way, if at all.
Not returning to Sun Hill had definitely been the right choice.
XXXX
By the time he arrived at the scene, an ambulance and two other panda cars were already there. A forensic tent had been set up and Bob was leading Tony slowly across the road. The other man looked awful, his face white as a sheet, blood on his hands and the front of his uniform.
"Sir," Bob greeted him grimly.
"In here?" he asked, gesturing to the tent. Bob nodded and he stepped inside, greeted by Andrew who was standing beside what was clearly a covered body.
"Frank," he greeted him sombrely. "I'm really sorry about this."
Taking a breath, he pulled back the blanket that had been laid down and came face to face with a sight he knew he wouldn't forget. Viv was lying on her back, eyes closed, for all the world as though asleep, except for the blood staining the front of her coat and the ground underneath her.
It was different and yet so similar.
In the car ride over, snippets of information had been passed over the radio. Tony and Viv had gone to try and pick up a known bag snatcher. He hadn't been at home, so the decision had been made to wait and see if he returned. A blue van had pulled up, obscuring the view of the house and Viv had gone to ask them to move on. Tony had only been able to watch helplessly as they had pulled a shooter and shot her straight in the chest.
"Oh God…" Jim said weakly, reminding him that there were others there.
"Look, if you're going to be sick, go outside," he demanded. "Stay with him, Alistair, make sure he's all right." Taking a last look at Viv, he covered her up again.
"Nobody saw anything," Andrew said with a sigh.
"But surely Stamp was a witness?!"
"He's given us everything he can. I don't want to push it."
"No…" he conceded, looking back at the covered form, trying to push the memory of the quality of their last interaction out of his mind.
"You might have told us about the op."
"Spilt milk, Andrew," he replied, heading back out of the tent and into the fresh air, whereupon he saw Jim bent forwards over the bonnet of the car. "Is he alright?"
"Yeah, he'll live," Alistair replied grimly.
"Come on Jim, still got work to do."
"Sorry Guv."
"All right, but just don't make a song and dance about it."
Jim straightened up. "What?"
"Look, I don't need you to go frosty on me. We've already lost one silly bitch today."
"What did you call her?"
"If she'd turned up at that briefing, she'd had known what the score was! That's what you get when you get sloppy!"
"I don't believe you, you bastard!" Jim yelled, surging forwards and grabbing him by the jacket, Alistair wading in to pull him back. "You wouldn't be saying that if she was someone else!"
As he pushed him away, the radio blared, and Cato's voice came across the airwaves. "Burnside from Sierra Oscar!"
"Yes!"
"Where are you?"
"Grove Road!"
"You're meant to be back here setting up the incident room!"
"There's a lot going on at the scene sir," he replied, trying to keep his anger in check. He'd never liked Cato. Since he'd transferred from Barton Street a few months earlier, he'd done nothing to ingratiate himself with the Sun Hill relief.
"Which Andrew can handle," Cato replied. "I can tell Mr Brownlow five minutes then, can I?"
"You got any idea what's just gone off down here?!"
"You're not running this, Frank! Five minutes!"
"Received," he spat angrily, pushing the radio back into his jacket and turning back to where Jim and Alistair were watching and waiting. "Back to the nick," he said, as they climbed back into the car and drove the short distance back in silence. He could feel the waves of indignation flowing from the backseat of the car, but he knew it was the wrong time to say anything more. Words were often said in the heat of the moment that could never be taken back.
Did he really think Viv was a silly bitch?
Yes and no.
Would he have said the same about someone else…?
Arriving back at the station, he headed straight up into Jack's office, the other man welcoming him in silently. For a moment, he stood there, unsure precisely what to say or do, his mind racing, before turning and walking over to the window. "She was late. There was a point to be made."
"Well, no doubt she's learned her lesson."
"Look, I can't turn back the clock."
"No, you can't."
"It's happened! The mistake is not mine!" Though the words were directed towards Jack, he wasn't sure exactly who he was trying to convince.
"Never is, is it Frank," Jack replied quietly.
"I'm not donning sackcloth and ashes over this," he said. "It makes me sick!"
"What?"
"The sympathy junkies! It's all show, Jack! They're not sorry for Martella, they're sorry for themselves! Behind all that handwringing they're saying, 'thank God it wasn't me!'"
"You know, you've got a very singular view of human nature, Frank."
"Yeah, I have! Or maybe I'm just more honest than some people."
Jack didn't say anything for a long moment. "You'll have heard about the outcome then?"
"That Ackland and Loxton chased them, that the van crashed, killing them all?" The facts seemed so stark and added nothing positive to the day's events. "Yes, I heard."
"A bad result all round then."
"Yeah," he let out a long breath. "That's one way of putting it."