The Takers, стр. 20
‘Sir, I have DI Adrian Pearce as requested.’
‘Send him in,’ Harris snapped, not even acknowledging his well-mannered assistant.
‘Of course.’
Moments later, Adrian Pearce stepped into the office, letting out a whistle of appreciation. Compared to the cramped storage cupboard he was working out of, Harris’s office may as well have been the Oval one in Washington DC. The grand bookcase housed several books, many that Pearce had read, and he made a note to test the young politician’s knowledge on them. It would help him gauge just how genuine the young man was. Throughout his extensive career, the majority dealing with people with something to hide, Pearce’s default mode was to approach everyone with an open mind.
The likelihood they had something to hide was high.
With politicians, almost definitely.
As he crossed the carpet towards the desk, he felt slightly underdressed, his parka coat was soaked through, as were his jeans and black trainers. Harris, turned, dressed in expensive designer clothes that made him look like he had stepped straight off the golf course. He offered the expertly honed smile as he stepped forward, hand outstretched.
‘Detective. It’s a pleasure to meet you.’
‘Likewise,’ Pearce said, shaking the hand firmly. Even the man’s handshake felt rehearsed. ‘Nice office.’
‘It’s a bit extravagant but needs must,’ Harris replied, gesturing to the seat opposite his desk as he took his own. ‘Thank you for coming on such short notice. I trust I haven’t kept you from anything?’
‘Just sleep.’ Adrian smiled.
‘Ah yes, you run the Bethnal Green Youth Social every Saturday evening, correct?’ Harris said, posing the fact as a question. Pearce nodded. ‘It’s very commendable. Not a lot of senior officers, especially as distinguished as yourself, give back that much.’
‘I have my reasons,’ Pearce stated, patiently waiting for the segue into the real reason he was summoned.
‘Theo Walker?’ Harris said solemnly. ‘He used to run that before his unfortunate death earlier this year.’
‘He was murdered.’
‘Yes, of course. He was a good man who served his country. He died a hero.’
‘That we can agree on.’ Pearce smiled, the animosity in the room rising slightly. Both men had already realised that they opposed the other and were equally thankful as Burrows opened the door, bringing in two cups of piping hot tea. Pearce accepted his graciously, thanking the senior figure. Harris waited for Burrows to leave and allowed Pearce a satisfying sip. He bridged his fingers together and began.
‘We need to stop Sam Pope.’
Pearce took another sip from his mug before leaning forward and carefully placing it on the coaster, not wanting to stain the large oak desk that separated them.
‘I agree,’ Pearce said calmly. ‘That’s why you’ve set up the task force, right?’
‘Exactly.’ Harris pointed a congratulatory finger at Pearce. ‘Some very good officers involved too. DI Singh has made quite the impression.’
‘I bet,’ Pearce said dryly, raising his eyebrows. As a highly experienced detective, he knew of Harris’s reported indiscretions and wondering eyes. ‘I’ve already had the pleasure of meeting her.’
‘She is quite something, isn’t she?’
‘You could say that,’ Pearce said diplomatically, his mind returning to the rather heated meeting between them.
‘I need you to step up and help her.’
Pearce let out a chuckle, causing Harris to scowl with frustration. As the rain collided with the window behind him, Harris pushed himself from his seat and turned his gaze to the city beyond. The rain-soaked city was still lazily waking up, the combination of the weather, reduced transport services and later opening hours meant the streets were relatively clear. Somewhere nearby an ambulance wailed loudly, weaving a rapid pathway towards one of the nearby hospitals.
In a months’ time, it would be his. Stopping Sam Pope would all but guarantee it. Knowing he needed Pearce onside, he decided to try a different angle.
‘I get it. Six months ago, you uncovered a terrible crime perpetrated by one of your own. Now whether that was with or without Sam Pope’s help, you need to look at what has happened since then. The man has gone on to terrify this city. He is one of the most dangerous men in the country, trained well beyond the usual gang bangers who are flooding the streets with guns.’ Harris noticed the frown on Pearce’s face at that comment. ‘What I mean is, Sam Pope is a different calibre of criminal. He is highly trained and has left a number of dead bodies on his outrageous quest for justice. Several more have been put in the hospital. It has to stop. He has to be stopped.’
Pearce sat contently, one leg draped over the other and took another sip of his tea. Harris clenched his fist in frustration once more.
‘Not everyone sees it that way.’
‘You condone his actions?’ Harris snapped, his short fuse noted by Pearce. Clearing his throat, Pearce calmly responded.
‘Not at all. But while yourself, the Met, and even the press are putting Sam front and centre, the real issue of police corruption was glossed over. Howell, despite everything he did, was still seen as a good man who made a mistake. Everything else was kept in-house, swept under the rug, and I was shunted to a goddamn cupboard for ‘sticking my nose in’. I was just doing my job. Whilst I don’t condone what Sam Pope is doing, I will not toe the line that he is as dangerous as he is being made out to be.’
Harris folded his arms across his chest, his eyes locked on Pearce. The senior officer was formidable, something Harris noted for the future.
‘You don’t consider a trained vigilante with an arsenal of weapons to be a danger to society? Is that what you’re saying?’
‘Sir, when senior figures in our own police force are willing to kill their own family to line their own pockets, our society has no idea of much danger it’s in.’
‘Those