A Time For Justice (36 page)

True to her word, Kate came for him and drove him back to his
flat above the vet’s, despite his insinuations that he would be
better cared for in the marital home. She was having none of
it.

Alone in his flat, with the barking of a dog recovering from a
hernia operation downstairs for company, he toyed with a bottle of
Scotch. In the end he binned it in favour of some analgesic
tablets, a hot drink of milk and bed.

He slept better than he would have thought
possible.

There was nothing particularly eventful about Dave August’s
return to work that Monday morning. He’d spent a dull weekend with
his family, and was glad to get into the office, which he did at
7.30 a.m.

At 10 a.m. he had his usual briefing from the ACC who’d been
on duty over the weekend. There was little to bring to August’s
attention, other than to update him regarding Henry Christie and
request protection for the jury in the Hinksman trial. It was clear
that they were being nobbled.

‘
That’s all we need!’ exclaimed August. ‘What about protecting
the witnesses, too?’

‘
That’s in hand, I understand.’

‘
I’d be tempted to give Christie authority to carry a gun home
with him under the circumstances. He may need it . . . it’s
something I’ll have to consider.’

‘
Could be a good idea.’

‘
Hm. Anything else? No? OK, thanks for that.’

The ACC collected his reports and left the office. August
checked his appointments for the day ahead. He was quite busy. He
sighed and his mind turned to Janine. They’d made no firm plans for
the week ahead, but she’d said to call her whenever he felt like
it. She was working in Cumbria all of this week, and when she’d
dropped him off at headquarters on Saturday morning, she’d given
him her mobile phone number.

He wanted her there and then. He could imagine it - her bent
forwards, holding onto the edge of the desk, him thrusting into
her, both of them crying out with the pleasure of it
all...

What a night they’d had. Pure carnal pleasure which had been
increased by his introduction to cocaine. At first he’d resisted,
but when he’d seen the effects on her, and been reassured that it
wasn’t addictive, he’d given it a try.

It had been fabulous.

He dialled her number, but it came back unobtainable. Strange,
he thought, but decided to try again later.

The sight of all that paperwork in his in-tray depressed him.
He scooped it up and laid it in front of him on the
desk.

A couple of reports merely required his signature. The next
piece of correspondence was a large, A4-sized Jiffy envelope,
addressed to him personally. It had arrived via the external mail,
post-marked
South Lakes.
He lifted it up, interested. It was fairly
heavy.

He peeled the envelope open and shook the contents out. There
was a video-tape, VHS, TDK make, with a label on it that said
boldly COPY, plus a series of photographs which had been taken over
the weekend, of him and Janine kissing and embracing in
public.

August suddenly felt very queasy. Typewritten on the sheet of
paper which accompanied the video were the words,
This is a very edited version of events. Hope you
find them interesting. Will contact you in due course. NB
-
this tape is a copy.
It is for your eyes only.

August stood up and crossed to the TV and video-player in the
corner of his office. He inserted the cassette and waited
apprehensively for the picture to appear.

Initially the screen was a lined grey haze.

Then an image came on. Very sharp. Very clear. Very
professional.

A man and a woman. Naked. Kneeling, face to face. The woman
was working his erect penis with deft fingers. The man moaned: the
video had a soundtrack. His face was screwed up tight in the agony
of sexual ecstasy. He came, ejaculating across the woman’s lower
belly. The sperm dribbled down to her pubic hair. The man sagged
exhaustedly and the couple embraced. He laid his head on her
shoulder and turned his face towards the camera. The screen faded
to blackness. The whole thing was less than ninety seconds
long.

The face of the woman had been erased from the
video.

But the face of the man was very clear and
identifiable.

The screen flickered back to life after a pause. This time it
showed the same couple kneeling side by side over the bedside
cabinet, apparently snorting cocaine.

This was a thirty-second clip. Then it all went black
again.

August pressed the rewind button and played the tape once
again. He held the last frame of the masturbation sequence for a
few seconds and found himself staring helplessly into his own
eyes.

He ejected the cassette and strode back to his desk, dazed and
confused. He picked up the phone and dialled Janine’s number.
Unobtainable.

August stood holding the phone to his ear, his eyes gazing out
unseeingly across his beloved rugby pitch.

All he could see was his sperm splashing across Janine’s
stomach and the end of his career.

Henry Christie drew his story to a close. Karen and Donaldson
had been good listeners.

‘
So who was the guy?’ Donaldson enquired.

‘
Don’t know yet, maybe never will. Fingerprints haven’t thrown
anyone up, so it’s possible he may have no previous
convictions.’

‘
Henry - you did good,’ said Donaldson with a smile. He
punched Henry on the shoulder.

Henry looked at them. They were grinning from ear to ear,
continually exchanging sidelong glances. They were obviously very
happy together. Karen’s eyes were shining. She was a completely
different person from the strung-out individual Henry had
encountered all those months ago. The ruthless career woman who
gave no quarter had been replaced by a relaxed person with no edge
whatsoever.

Henry liked the change. He had never felt comfortable with her
until now.

‘
So what’s your news, Kar1? What’s happening on your side of
the water?’

‘
Aww,’ he said dismissively, ‘Corelli’s still givin’ us the
runaround and we don’t seem any closer to catching him. I’ll fill
you in later. There’s something much more important to tell
you.’

‘
We’re engaged to be married,’ blurted out Karen. She reached
for Donaldson’s hand.

‘
Yep,’ said Donaldson. ‘You’re the first to know.’

Henry was pleased for them. They were two nice people. In
fact, he felt a twinge of jealousy. ‘That’s good news,’ he said
warmly. ‘You’re good for each other, but isn’t there a slight
logistical problem with all this?’

‘
Well, yeah,’ admitted Donaldson. ‘We haven’t quite worked
that one out yet, but we will. As the saying goes, love will find a
way.’

After lunch with a visiting ACC from North Wales, Dave August
returned to his office trying to believe that the tape was all a
practical joke, that Janine would phone and explain it all
away.

But once behind closed doors again, dark despair began to
creep over him like a shroud of mist. Carefully, he removed the
envelope he’d received that morning. Now it was in a clear plastic
bag. He unfastened it, shook out the video and the photographs and
gazed at them on his desk. They offended his eyes, made him feel
sick.

He again slotted the video into the player and watched the
action, mesmerised. He worked out where the camera had been
situated. Now he saw why it had all been so easy and what a fool
he’d made of himself.

‘
Shit,’ he said. ‘Sex, drugs and a Chief
Constable.’

Presumably there was going to be a blackmail threat somewhere
along the line. He would be ruined if the compromising material
reached the people who were now considering his application for
promotion to the Inspectorate. And what if members of the
Lancashire police committee got hold of it? Or the press? August’s
heart sank. And what about his wife? Or the kids?

Career, marriage, lifestyle - down the tubes.

He had everything to lose.

He began to sweat.

But what do I have to offer a blackmailer? he asked
himself.

I’m not rich, so it can’t be money.

The only thing I possess is
information...

He thought about it further, but nothing specifically
interesting came to mind.

He locked his top drawer when he heard his office door open.
In stepped his new staff officer - Chief Inspector Jenny Cornwall,
- and announced that the discipline hearing was ready to kick
off.

‘
Wheel ‘em in,’ he said. Some poor bastard of a PC was going
to get hell this afternoon.

Henry found himself confronted by one of the most
stunning-looking women he had ever met in his life when he left
court that afternoon. It was the combination of gorgeous long legs,
short skirt, silky blonde hair, upturned cheeky nose, bright eyes
and a haughty, confident, no-nonsense look which did it, plus a
subtle perfume which assaulted Henry’s nostrils like an
aphrodisiac.

She had the particularly American way of speaking in short,
punchy sentences.

‘
Hi, I’m Lisa Want. I’m from the Crime Bureau of the
Miami Herald
and I’m
covering this here trial for that particular newspaper. I’d just
love to do a piece about you, Sergeant Christie. Y’know the sort of
thing - hero cop, dig a little into your background, et cetera. The
American public just love reading about English cops, especially
when they’re as good-lookin’ as you are ...’

‘
Say no,’ said Donaldson, who had walked up behind him. ‘Don’t
trust her - Joe Kovaks did and it nearly cost him his
job.’

‘
Now don’t you go listening to that bitter an’ twisted ole FBI
man,’ she purred to Henry with a pout. She flashed her eyelashes
and he could have sworn he felt the draught. Her eyes moved
momentarily to Donaldson and the look in them, just for a
nanosecond, was pure hatred. Henry noticed it.

‘
It’s up to you,’ said Donaldson, ‘but I’d avoid her like the
plague, scheming bitch.’

‘
I’m sorry,’ said Henry, and he truly was because the prospect
of spending time with her was very appealing, ‘but I tend not to
have a very good relationship with the media anyway.’ He shrugged
sadly, and he and Donaldson walked out of the court.

Lisa clenched her teeth and stamped a foot on the floor,
muttering ‘Karl Donaldson, you are a first-class cunt.’

Over in Dave August’s office, the discipline hearing was
drawing to a close. The officer concerned had lost. August fined
him heavily for discreditable conduct, severely reprimanded him and
transferred him to another station. That would teach him to fuck
the cleaner on the snooker table, even if he was now living with
her. There was a time and a place for everything.

Forty minutes later August was driving through the streets of
south Manchester, desperately trying to locate the house Janine had
taken him to that night. But he couldn’t even begin to find it,
even though he had driven there and back himself.

He pulled into the side of the road and parked, attempting to
relive the journey in his mind. It was all a sexual haze - as no
doubt it had been intended to be. He’d been driving the Jag,
blindly following her directions while she masturbated him; at the
same time his left hand was fumbling rather inexpertly with her
clitoris. Both had been in moaning ecstasy. It was a miracle they
hadn’t crashed.

When he’d left the house the morning after it’d been much the
same scenario, except he couldn’t get a full erection. The journey
from the house to central Manchester - where she had asked to be
dropped off had once again been at her direction. And now, only a
few days later, he couldn’t recall any of it.

His forehead dropped onto the steering wheel.

‘
You complete and utter idiot,’ he snarled at
himself.

Janine settled back in the fishing boat and pulled off her
long baggy T-shirt. Underneath she was wearing a skimpy bikini top
and a pair of faded cut-offs. She reached down for a can of Diet
Coke from the coolbox next to her and rolled the ice-cold can
across her sweaty forehead. Key West was fast receding as the boat
picked up speed on its way out for a morning’s fishing.

She was aware of the sidelong looks from the two crew members,
both men of Hispanic origin, as they prepared the bait and rods.
She was very pale and desirable to them.

The cabin door opened and the attention of the crew moved
solely to their tasks in hand as the boss appeared from below,
accompanied - as ever - by his bodyguard.

Corelli was carrying a bottle of champagne and two fluted
glasses. Janine tossed the Coke can overboard and took the glasses
from him. ‘This is good stuff,’ he said. ‘The best. Don’t want to
spill a drop.’ He opened the bottle carefully.