Undercover (8 page)

Rockmain said: ‘They'll have told you, Tom, how undercover is organized. You'll work to a handler and a controller. Howard here is your handler. Above him is the controller. You don't need to know who that is.'

‘But he knows who
I
am,' Tom replied.

‘He or she, yes.'

‘I like the wariness in you, Tom,' Lambert said.

‘Wariness is on the whole an attribute, Howie, an asset,' Rockmain said. ‘It can become tiresome, though. It can drift into indecisiveness, or sluggishness.'

‘Well, yes, I suppose,' Lambert said.

Rockmain carved one of two chops and lifted the chunk to his mouth. Tom wondered how he stayed so skinny, if he always ate like this. Perhaps he didn't: only when the job was paying. ‘You'll ask how I come into the proceedings, Tom,' Rockmain said. ‘Why more fucking psychology? You thought you'd done with all that at Hilston.' He spoke with terrific clarity, at the same time managing the meat in his mouth with a skill that might be inherited, congenital. ‘And, to some extent, you
have
finished with psychology.'

‘Which means I haven't, does it?' Tom said.

‘This is more wariness,' Lambert stated, with a happy chuckle. ‘A refusal to accept the superficial. I love it, Mr Rockmain. I'm sorry – I know there's a downside to wariness, which we should, as it were, be aware and wary of, but in Tom I see it as creative caution, if that's not a contradiction.'

‘Some contradictions are extremely fruitful,' Rockmain replied. ‘Paradox has been defined as “truth standing on its head to attract attention” – apparently contradictory, yet true. I'll admit that Tom's wariness does have a positive, encouraging side.'

‘My view, certainly,' Lambert said. He poked at the shepherd's pie with his fork, seemed to find something he'd been prospecting for and ate it.

‘What Hilston couldn't measure or investigate, Tom, was how well, or otherwise, you and your handler would suit each other,' Rockmain said. ‘I'll be assessing that. They wouldn't know the handler, only the general role of handlers. It's quite a bond, you see, officer – handler, a bond nearly as strong as marriage; in fact, stronger than many marriages. Someone's life depends on this working bond: in the present case, yours, Tom.'

‘I think I can say I feel such a bond between us forming already,' Lambert said. ‘But, of course, I realize that Tom will view this unilateral statement from me so soon with a certain wariness, wariness being such a major element in Tom's make-up. I do not object to having this wariness directed towards me. It's a natural reaction by Tom, given his plain and bold leaning towards wariness, a leaning which I admire, and which is vital in the kind of work he will undertake. What, I ask, after all, is the opposite of wariness? Casualness? Naivety? Gullibility? These are hardly desirable qualities in an undercover officer.'

‘There must always be full and constructive communication between the two, officer and handler,' Rockmain said. ‘You must bring him your findings, obviously. They want to know about the structure of the Leo Percival Young firm, its money resources, its part in any deaths or injuries during turf wars. A complete profile as substantial aid to exposure and prosecution.

‘On top of the bank accounts, Howard will be the one who supplies you with ready cash funds to buy drugs on a scale, Tom, that helps you at the start to get your entrance into the firm. He will also be the one who takes the purchased materials from you – mainly, I'd expect, coke, hash, crack, conceivably some H, skunk. Howard will collect such commodities and see to their due disposal. Now, these will not be nicely documented and detailed, account-book matters. There can be no record of monies or drugs that pass between the two of you. Hardly! Therefore, top in these transactions is trust.'

Tom always felt uneasy when offered too much alliteration. It might show the speaker was more interested in impact than meaning. Rockmain obviously liked a bit of pairing and tripling. Maybe psychology taught this helped direct a listener's mind. It didn't work on Tom, though. ‘Your job is to judge whether we trust each other and can work together?' he asked.

Lambert said: ‘I will know that if I can, as it were, survive Tom's initial wariness – a wariness I entirely sympathize with root and branch – if I can get past what we might call first base with him, then the trust will establish itself and must be the more valuable for not having been arrived at facilely. Facilely is not the way to achieve trust. As for trust in the other direction – my trust of Tom – this already burgeons
because
of that very wariness he exercises. It gives him stature, solidity, practical wisdom.'

‘Yes,
part
of my job is to assess how you two will function – fuse,' Rockmain replied.

‘You think you can foresee that?' Tom asked.

‘It's tricky, perhaps, and vague, and packed with variables, but necessary,' Rockmain said. ‘As is the sex aspect.'

‘Which sex aspect?' But, yes, he could guess.

‘This is going to put massive responsibilities on handlers like Howard,' Rockmain answered. ‘Closure responsibilities.'

‘Closure of what?' Tom said.

‘Severance responsibilities. I mentioned the women earlier,' Rockmain replied.

‘Which women?' Tom said.

‘Rather late in the course of things, I fear, we have acknowledged – accepted – they have a genuine grievance which we should not ignore but try to deal considerately with.'

‘Who have a genuine grievance?' Tom said.

‘This is a decision that comes from at least the Association of Chief Police Officers, and possibly from higher still – the Ministry of Justice? It will settle new, subtle duties on handlers. In these extra, demanding tasks, Howard can call on me for advice and support. So, you'll see how the psychology element resurfaces.'

‘What are we talking about, Mr Rockmain?' Tom asked.

‘I expect you know,' Rockmain said, with a sudden, stop-pissing-around tone that seemed alien for someone in sandals.

‘This will be another demonstration of Tom's wariness,' Lambert said. ‘He demands definitions, transparency.'

‘Above all we want you to feel assured, Tom, that any untidiness involving a woman or women connected to your time undercover will be managed in a careful, humane, understanding fashion,' Rockmain said. ‘We do not want you to be burdened – badgered – during that time with anxieties about relations with a woman, women, who believe you to be other than you are. Obviously, you will have read of complaints by young protest-group females who consider themselves deceived in that way: giving it willingly to men they thought fellow members of the group, but discovering later that they'd been sleeping with the enemy – sleeping with undercover cops, some of them married and with children.

‘A woman has a right to feel piqued if she's been putting out night after night deluded. The publicity from that kind of mix-up is not at all helpful, Tom. It makes undercover policing look unscrupulous and amoral, which, viewed from some angles, it is, of course. We don't wish to emphasize this, though. There have consequently been some important undercover procedures added to those already in force. You'll ask, which? A categorical ban on all undercover sex is patently impossible. The undercover officer has to establish a full and credible life in the firm, and this is almost certain to mean attachment, attachments, usually hetero.'

‘You're telling me to shag around?' Tom said.

‘I'm telling you that nothing should stop you behaving in character – in your assumed character, that is. I'm telling you, Tom, that when difficulties arise afterwards –
if
they do – they will be efficiently considered and coped with. We accept now that these women have a compensatable case. Financial grants may be made to them from a new, dedicated slush fund, referred to slangily, I'm afraid, as the “conned cunt caddy”, conditional upon their agreement not to broadcast – broadcast in the widest sense – details of the affair, affairs.' He took a few mouthfuls of burn water. Then he said: ‘I notice you frown, and all credit to you for it.'

‘I would have expected frowning from Tom at this point,' Lambert said. ‘He would argue, I think, that emotional damage cannot be adequately repaired by money –
mere
money, as it is sometimes dubbed. This is, yes, an admirable reaction. We all know that Beatles number that states “money can't buy me love”, I'm sure. However, it will be my mission – and the mission, no doubt, of other handlers around the country, with the aid of inner soul experts like you, Mr Rockmain – to convince these women that the romancing was not a heartless or flippant act, acts, by the officer, but a necessary and valued part of his facade; and to convince them also that acceptance of an honorarium, running into four figures most likely, for this service and their buttoned lip in no way reflects disparagingly on the women and is not in any degree to be confused with payment to a whore
post hoc
.'

Rockmain said: ‘Naturally, we are aware that the proposed doling out of currency to excuse what these women regard as fleshly exploitation might seem cold and mercenary. Perhaps an insult, even. Handlers such as Howie will have to shape their healing approach very subtly, very delicately. It will not be a rushed matter, and I'll be ready with specialist support for him at every stage of the challenging negotiations. I should be able to judge the state of the woman's, women's, mind, minds, from what Howard tells me, and suggest detailed techniques, distinct and custom-made, individually fashioned, for each and every dupee concerned, thus assuring progress. So, you see, Tom, the potential situation, situations has, have, been very thoroughly reviewed and measures made ready. You may – must – use every means to protect your substitute identity. You can do this certain that all possible subsequent problems will be properly, generously, humanely resolved.'

Tom dealt with the remains of his meal. ‘We'll be away,' Lambert said. ‘Best not leave together.'

‘But we came in together,' Tom said.

‘There's that fine argumentativeness again – refusal to take any statement or proposal glibly!' Lambert said. He offered a congratulatory chuckle. ‘“Glibly” is not a word to be associated with Tom. I believe much has been accomplished this evening. Accord? In-depth mutual understanding?' With a gentle movement of his arm, as though about to stroke a kitten, he put three fifties flat on the table near Tom's empty coffee beaker. ‘This OK for fuel and, so to speak, grub?' he said. ‘You'll see that, as per guidance, it's been rounded up to multiples of five.'

The details of this procedure baffled Tom. He had not seen Lambert take the fifties from his pocket or a wallet. It was almost like a conjuror suddenly producing something out of nowhere: next, a rabbit? And the notes lay uncreased on the Formica surface, not crumpled as they would surely have been if concealed for a while in Lambert's fist, waiting for the moment. Tom admired Lambert's deftness. Perhaps he had done the same sort of handover often before and perfected a method. It would have appeared blatant and clumsy to fish the notes from inside his jacket or from a bill-holder. Ungraceful. Vulgar. No wonder they called these officers ‘handlers'.

Rockmain and Lambert stood. Rockmain leaned over the table to talk reasonably quietly to Tom. Rockmain said: ‘These women, protesting about false provenance pricks trapezing up and down their skiters, were probably bullied into making a fucks-fuss by some libertarian pressure cell. Such groups proliferate. It's an industry, Tom. But clearly, we have to take very serious and authentically respectful notice, ho-ho, while also ensuring as far as we can that the safety of undercover lads like you, Tom, and – even more vital – the future of undercover itself, are suitably preserved. To that end the women may be offered a silencer sum, a gagging
douceur
, by wad not traceable cheque, obviously, the fee quite possibly deserved and inevitable, given the flagrantly enlightened and sodding fair-play notions that dog us non-stop these days.'

He and Lambert left, Rockmain ahead again, frail looking and boyish from behind, his sandals probably making a fast, flip-flap clacking on the caff carpet as he headed for the exit stairs. Tom finished eating and picked up the money. And, harvesting those three fifties from among the used crockery, Tom felt real satisfaction. Of course, he examined the notes separately and carefully. Each was new and looked brilliant, untrammelled and full of hearty promise, in splendid contrast to all this low-caste fodder debris. He could see the silver strip running through all, and the darker areas, a bit like piano keys. Near the Queen's face glinted a rose and a medallion. These notes could not be more genuine. They were exemplary. The Queen would be proud to get her picture on such notes. Shops would take them OK. Pubs maybe not, especially if they'd been caught out by fakes earlier. No matter.

But it wasn't so much the money itself that pleased Tom. His attitude to it – this was what delighted him. The amount hugely and plainly exceeded his petrol costs getting here. Evidently, it came from an account subject to only the vaguest kind of auditing, if that. Although he'd bought none of the food and drink, Lambert told him to claim just the same. These fifties, and the unquestioning way Tom accepted them, showed he was seamlessly moving into a new kind of life. This thrilled him. It was on a par with his appreciation of Lambert's graceful finger-magic with the fifties.

At Hilston Manor there'd been psychology seminars aimed at helping future undercover people get used to grey-area thinking, authorized criminality, furtiveness, corner-cutting, consciencelessness, in the interests of the greater eventual good. Wasn't it lovely to be freed from tedious regard for regulations and exactitudes? Collecting the fifties as a routine entitlement proved, didn't it, that he had sound and slinky undercover potential? Hilston had said the same, but it was heartening to see himself, in an actual situation, automatically applying what he'd learned there. He even began wondering for a couple of seconds why Lambert couldn't have rounded up the sum by fifties not fives and made it £200. Tom recalled a film,
Wall Street
, and the professional principles of its villain-hero, Gordon Gekko: ‘Greed, for lack of a better word, is good.' But maybe the lack of a better word could be remedied. How about: ‘Greed is natural?' ‘Greed is a career-builder?' ‘Greed is necessary?'