David Trevellyan 03 -More Harm Than Good (13 page)
“OK. So why didn’t you
tell the police what you saw?”
“They didn’t ask.”
“Because you weren’t
supposed to be here that night?”
“Right.”
“And you didn’t volunteer
the information because that would have revealed you were here when you
shouldn’t have been?”
“Right.”
“And is that such a big
deal? Being at the hospital when you’re off duty?”
“It is, lately. The
rules changed. There’ve been some thefts, and stuff.”
“How do your chances
look, keeping the police off your tail?”
He shrugged.
“Not good, I guess,” I
said. “They’re still crawling all over the place. And it won’t be long before
they start pulling everyone in, not just the ones who were working that night.”
“Do you think so?” he
said.
“I do, based on my
experience of these things. It’s how they operate. They’re like clockwork. They
have a procedure, and they follow it. But you don’t need to worry about that.
There’s a way we can shield you from it.”
“There is? How?”
“There’s a special kind
of statement you can make. An
Incoactus
Inviolati
. Don’t worry about the weird-sounding name. It’s
from the Latin, and it just means that because you voluntarily provided
information which was helpful to the case, the circumstances which led you to
be in possession of that information – even if they were in and of
themselves illegal – will be excluded from the resulting investigation.”
“Really? Are you sure?”
“I’m a lawyer. It’s my
job to be sure. The
Inviolati
is a very useful tool
for the police. Without it, they wouldn’t be able to get half their informants
to come forward.”
“How come I’ve never
heard of it?”
“Well, they don’t
exactly advertise. They don’t want people trying to use it to wriggle out of
crimes that aren’t really related. But in your case, it’s completely legit. We
could get it done in five minutes.”
“We could? How?”
“Well, I’ll be out of
this place probably the middle of next week. I should be able to fit you in a
couple of days after that, if you don’t mind coming over to my office.”
“Wait, wow, no way.
Far too long.
The police will come knocking long before
that.”
“There’s not much I can
– oh, hang on. It’s a little unconventional, but my assistant is here at
the hospital, too. We were in the same car, you see, hit by one of those dodgy
new bendy buses. She has all the basic forms with her, in her briefcase. We
could head up to her room, right now? Take care of it straight away?”
There was no answer at Melissa’s door when we knocked, ten minutes
later. Elvis’s resolve wasn’t dented, though, and he was happy to head back
down to my room and pass the time till she returned. Happy, until I stood back
and let him cross the threshold in front of me.
A man was already inside
my room, waiting.
A uniformed police officer.
I’d
guess he was in his mid forties. I couldn’t get a good sense of his height,
though, because he was sitting on my bed, his helmet at his side, brushing
sandwich crumbs off the front of his tunic. He looked up as we appeared in the
doorway and locked eyes with Elvis, who promptly turned on his heel and took
flight down the corridor. I spun around and went after him. We were less than
half way along when a second police officer appeared. He was coming towards us,
from the direction of the staircase, holding a polystyrene takeaway cup in each
hand. Elvis and I covered three more strides, still at full speed
,
then the policeman bent down and placed the drinks neatly
on the floor by the left-hand wall.
“Stop him,” I said,
slowing down to avoid a collision.
The officer straightened
up, stepped into our path, and stretched his arms out wide like an angry bear.
He looked me straight in the face, and dodged to the side, letting Elvis race
past him. Then he launched himself forwards, wrapping his arms around my knees
and bringing me to the ground in a classic rugby tackle. He held on tight
despite my protests, and by the time I’d rolled over and wriggled myself free,
the two of us were alone in the corridor.
“You moron,” I said,
getting back to my feet. “Which part of ‘stop him’ did you not understand?”
The officer also stood
up, and took a step closer to me, blocking my path.
“Is your name David
Trevellyan
?” he said.
I didn’t reply.
I heard a sound behind
me. It was the door to my room almost being ripped off its hinges. Then the
officer who had been sitting on my bed marched into the corridor with a
strange, twisted look on his face. I couldn’t tell if it was anger, or
embarrassment, or a mixture of both.
“Are you David
Trevellyan
?” the officer who’d tackled me said. “Come on.
Yes? Or no?”
The officer from my room
pushed past us and picked one of the cups up from the floor.
“Is this one mine?” he
said.
“They’re the same,” the
other officer said.
“Thanks, Dale,” he said.
“That’s good. I’ll take things from here.”
He took a long swig,
nodded his head like he was some sort of connoisseur,
then
made a show of looking me up and down.
“Tut, tut, tut,” he
said, after a moment. “Oh dear. Running from the police. Not a good idea. What
was that all about, eh?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“I think you frightened him.”
“Frightened who?”
“The guy who ran away
from you. And now we need to get him back.”
“Who was he?”
“He calls himself Elvis.
I don’t know his real name.”
“Well, we don’t care about
him. We’re here for you. Your name is David
Trevellyan
?”
“It is. And I’m really
happy you’re taking the theft of my boots so seriously - I honestly didn’t
think you would, or I’d have called you myself - but right now, finding that
guy is more important.”
The office shot a quick
glance at his colleague,
then
turned back to me.
“This has nothing to do
with any boots,” he said. “Or with finding Elvis impersonators. What it does
have to do with is us taking you into custody.”
“What?” I said. “Are you
insane?”
“David
Trevellyan
, I am placing you under arrest for occasioning
actual bodily harm, disturbing the peace, and aggravated assault. You are not
obliged to say anything, but anything you do say will be taken down and may be
used as evidence against you in a court of law. Understand?”
“I haven’t got time for
this nonsense,” I said. “We need to get after the guy I was chasing. Quickly.
Before he disappears back down his rabbit hole.”
The policeman handed his
coffee to his colleague then reached around behind him and took a pair of
handcuffs from his belt. I didn’t like the way things were heading. They
clearly had the wrong end of the stick, and I knew if I let them continue,
things were only going to get worse. That’s a road I’ve been down before.
“OK,” I said. “I have no
idea why you think I’ve done anything wrong, but we need to turn this around
before you have a real problem on your hands. The guy you just let escape? He’s
a witness.
A very important one.
In fact, he just hit
the top of the Security Service’s hot list. So if you know what’s good for you,
you’re going to stop talking about arresting me and start searching for him.”
“Listen, David,” the
policeman said. “Can I call you Dave?”
“No.”
“Well, Dave, let me tell
you something. You’re not doing yourself any
favours
here. You need to stop talking and come with us.”
“I don’t think so. You
need to help me, right now. Otherwise this moves from a minor
bollocking
into full-scale
arse
kicking territory.”
The policeman took a
step towards me, still swinging the handcuffs between his finger and thumb.
“Look,” he said. “Come
quietly, and we’ll let you stay on your feet. Keep shooting your mouth off, and
we’re going to drag you down the station.
Your choice.
But just so you know - there’s lots of concrete staircases between here and
there. Going down those when you’re not properly balanced? Bad idea.”
“You’re not going to
bring those cuffs anywhere near my wrists,” I said. “You might as well put them
away, right now. And give me some space. I need to make a call.”
“You can call from the
station. Now. Last chance. What’s it to be?”
I’ve known people resort
to assaulting police officers in nine or ten countries, over the years. I’ve
aided and abetted them in four or five. I’ve done it myself, in two. But never
until that moment had I been tempted to take a swing at a British bobby.
“We don’t seem to be
communicating very effectively, do we constable?” I said. “I need to make a
call, and I need to make it now.”
“Enough
is
…” he was saying, when his radio crackled into life. He
stepped away, unhooked his handset, and spoke to someone for forty-five
seconds. Then he turned to his colleague.
“Dale,” he said. “We’re going to forget about
this joker. Come on. Let’s go.”
“What about my witness?”
I said. “You frightened him off. You need to get him back.”
“
Mr
Trevellyan
,” the officer said, scowling at me again.
“Something you should know. This time, you’re lucky. But I never forget a face.
If I see you again, you won’t like what happens.”
“How do you know?”
“What?”
“How do you know what I
like? And don’t like?”
“Well,
I… ”
“There’s no sugar in
this one, right?” I said, leaning down and taking hold of the remaining
polystyrene cup. “What about milk?”
Neither of the policemen
answered.
I pried open the lid and
looked inside.
“Good,” I said. “Thank
you. Now, goodbye, gentlemen.”
Chapter Eleven
I’d been back in my room for less than four minutes when I heard a
squeak outside in the corridor. There were two urgent knocks,
then
the door swung open without me saying a word. It was
Melissa, still in her chair.
“David,” she said. “Are
you all right? The police? Have they…?”
“They were here,” I
said. “Then they left. Someone called them off.”
“That was
me
. Well, not me directly. I got word they were going to
arrest someone because of those idiots in the garden, and I figured it had to
be you. I insisted they drop it.”
“Who told you about it?”
“A sergeant at the local
station. I made them aware we were working here when I first arrived. It’s
standard procedure. They’re supposed to keep us in the loop about anything
they’re doing in the vicinity, and luckily this guy was on the ball. I’m just
sorry I couldn’t get to them before they showed up here.”