Vacuum (6 page)

‘The GB social fabric is already flimsy. Consider the fan club that's emerged for the killer Raoul Moat. He's their hero. People are not necessarily on our side. I hope everyone understands the significance of Moat and his admirers. Consider also the middle-class anarchists with their stated objective to shaft the police in the student fees riot in London.

‘The second potential development is that new, suddenly aspirational, minor local pushers, or firms of any size at all from outside our ground, will spot the gap left by Shale and aim to fill it. There's been plenty of publicity about the situation here. It will sound like an invitation to villains everywhere. Nature abhors a vacuum. We could very soon have a territorial war on our hands, perhaps involving Ember, perhaps featuring other gangs, based here or not.'

A second echo: maybe in the Chief's hearing Iles had spoken one day about his emphatic agreement with Nature in the vacuums matter. Was Upton calculatedly echoing some of Iles's themes, ridiculing him, toying with him? Did the Chief really have that kind of arrant fearlessness and lunacy?

‘The logic of this, it seems to me, is that we should as a first-stage operation achieve the removal of Ember,' Upton had said. ‘Alone, Ralphy and his outfit are comparatively easy meat.' He smiled, and his voice became the gentle voice of gorgeous reasonableness. ‘Now, I hope I'm not an as it were serf to logic and the cerebral. I know there are other considerations, other impulses. Some of these at their proper time may be wholly valid. We are not all mind and deduction. Gut-feelings about a situation do often count, and we all have some of those, and are the better for it. But logic, when it is insistent and indisputable, must surely be allowed ultimately to guide, to predominate. Current developments present us with a splendid chance to dispose of the Ember interests as first phase of a comprehensive purging. In that first phase, he and his dealership will be obliterated.' Now, the Chief had become terse and commanding. ‘I want you to arrange an immediate, full-out strike against him, Desmond, Colin.'

‘In what form, sir?' Iles said.

‘This would be a completely justified move,' Upton said. ‘I regard Ember as, first, a leading suspect as organizer of the Naomi and Laurent Shale murders, and second, a flagrantly major drugs purveyor, with that grog-shop, The Monty, and his ponderous letters to the Press on environmental topics, a cover. It is a cover we shall no longer be fooled by.'

‘I was intrigued by a phrase you used, sir,' Iles replied. ‘I took a note.'

‘Which?'

Iles made as though to read from a pad. ‘About Nature abhorring a vacuum.'

‘Something of a cliché, I fear, Desmond. Not at all original.'

‘Nonetheless, sir, it is
your
cliché. You have corralled it, enlisted it under your, as it were, ensign. There are many clichés out there, clamouring for an inclusion in serious discourse, a whole bucketful of trite folk wisdom, but this is the one – Nature, vacuums – this is the one you selected, you as a Chief. I would suggest this gives it special status, extraordinary impact.'

‘In a sense, yes,' Upton said.

‘Why that particular cliché was chosen is, perhaps, something all of us in this room can learn from,' Iles said.

So, Upton hadn't got the phrase from Iles, had he? Or were these two at some subtle, injurious game, both pretending this was the first time Nature and a vacuum had cropped up between them? Why would they do that? Harpur couldn't have said. But, then, he very often failed to work out Iles's motives and tactics. And perhaps Upton, too, knew how to disguise his.

Harpur did spot that the ACC must have decided it was about time to start torching Sir Matt's silver-leaf grandeur. Iles's words just now were mild, but blatantly piss-taking. The others in the room had clearly noticed this, also. Francis Garland and the two search officers looked deeply relieved. They exulted. The true, traditional Iles was once again on show – viciously polite, ruthless, ungovernable, for quite lengthy stretches more or less sane. Normality – Iles's – was struggling to re-establish itself, like morale in a beaten army. For months, all the Force must have felt uneasy that he appeared pasteurized, neutered, under a new Chief. As one of its opening ploys, the current Upton regime seemed to have reduced and squeezed Iles into his restricted role as an Assistant Chief, and
only
an Assistant Chief. Or, as he would hiss-spit it, Assis  . . . ssstant Chief. This would disturb people. It suggested life had become gravely unbalanced: that the organization here had developed a perilous tilt because Iles no longer supplied his time-tested, malign, stabilizing ballast.

But these anxieties could be buried now. He'd returned with a splendid array of fresh, poisonous trickery. He had begun to restore some of his patiently, meticulously crafted discord. Because of him, the local police scene suddenly reverted. It grew recognizable and coherent. It would conform to the beloved, awkward, pre-Sir Matt mishmash pattern. Did Upton realize what was happening, the poor, articulate, benighted, beknighted sod?

‘That is a phrase with scope, sir,' Iles had said. ‘“Nature abhors a vacuum.”'

‘Well, certainly,' Upton said. ‘Why it has survived, I expect.'

‘Timelessly useful,' Iles said. ‘Nature's not one of your here-today-gone-fishing-at-the-weekend items.'

Upton said: ‘But perhaps we shouldn't get too preoccupied with a form of words. I want to consider how we—'

‘If we analyse that phrase, “Nature abhors a vacuum”, we come up with some fascinating results, I believe,' Iles replied, joyfully steamrollering the Chief.

‘Yes, unquestionably,' Upton said, ‘but—'

‘Not only fascinating in an academic, seminar sense, where ideas are kicked about for the very pleasure of kicking them about – to no practical purpose,' Iles said. ‘We, it can be reasonably stated, are concerned with the
application
of these ideas.'

‘Indeed, yes,' Upton said.

‘It's why analysis of this particular idea is worthwhile, in my view,' Iles said.

Upton said: ‘Yes, yes, but—'

‘I think that in the phrase “Nature abhors a vacuum”, Nature is put forward as something good, something lofty, impeccable, something inherently right, something setting fine standards. This is Nature in the Wordsworthian sense – Nature as a supreme, benign, godlike entity. Not Nature as in the unpleasant, dark phrase “Nature red in tooth and claw”.'

‘Absolutely,' Upton said.

‘Good,' Iles said. ‘And if I were to ask my four colleagues here, I'm sure they would agree, too. Is that not so, Col?'

‘Nature is quite a massive notion, true,' Harpur replied. ‘Many's the time I've become aware of that – just look at the Atlantic, or lice infestation, or Lord Heseltine's arboretum.'

Iles began to tremble a little, producing a strobe effect from the silver buttons of his uniform. A fleck of saliva dropped to the table. It shone weakly there under the lights like a poor imitation diamond. Harpur, of course, recognized these signs, and he thought Francis Garland would, too. Harpur dredged hard in his brain for a distraction.

Iles talked direct to Upton. ‘Although new to this region, sir, you've probably got on the tom-toms that both Harpur and Garland here were banging my wife not so long ago, though at different times. Oh, definitely not during the same months. This I can assure you of. That would have been seedy, a simultaneous turn-and-turn-about arrangement. There was no what one might call overlap. But they will most probably have a different definition of “Nature” from the one you and I hold. They would consider they were only reacting to irresistible, endemic dong prompts from Nature when giving one on the quiet to a very senior officer's wife. I don't think, however, we need to follow them in that perverse and perverted reading of the term “Nature”.'

Upton said: ‘Desmond, please, these are concerns that you, you only—'

‘You'll naturally wonder, sir, where this kind of activity took place. I have to tell you: certain known flophouses, public parks, cars, including police vehicles, and—'

‘“Nature” figures in many a tag,' Harpur said, ‘such as “force of Nature” and “laws of Nature”.'

Iles abruptly came out of the flashback cuckold-fit, as was his style when forcefully interrupted – like someone emerging from a
petit mal
episode. ‘And then “abhors”,' he said. ‘This is a mightily powerful word – beyond “hates” or “loathes” or “despises”.'

‘That's so,' Upton said.

‘Now, if we have something as good as Nature
abhorring
at full pitch a vacuum it must mean, mustn't it, that there is nothing worse than a vacuum, or else Nature, a generally uncarping, even generous, old biddy, would not find it abhorrent?'

‘That might be a fair inference,' Upton said.

Iles jumped: ‘Therefore, we must all agree, mustn't we, that if drugs firms occupy that vacuum – thus, in fact, putting an end to the vacuum by their presence – this must be better than an absence of drugs firms, for such an absence will result in a vacuum, won't it? That was the kind of commendable situation – the tenanted vacuum – yes, the kind of commendable situation we had while Manse Shale ran his business. Perhaps it will resume under Shale's successor.'

‘But I wish to fill that vacuum by other means, Desmond,' Upton had said from his head-of-the-table place, in a sweetly level, fuck-off-you-fartarsing-verbalizing-fool kind of tone.

‘With what, sir?' Iles said.

‘With what in what sense?' Upton replied.

‘“Fill that vacuum” with what?' Iles said. ‘People selling sarsaparilla? Or giving out Bible tracts? Or recruiting youth for the war in Afghanistan? There will always be drugs, sir. It is better that the dealing should be confined within an area – the notional vacuum area, as it were – and expertly supervised by fine, though freewheeling, grossly libidinous, folk like Harpur here and Garland. Plus, of course, the Drugs Squad.'

‘You think Shale's successor in the firm will bring stability?' Upton said. He consulted a note. ‘Michael Redvers Arlington? You consider he can maintain peace and order? This is someone, as I've been told, Desmond, who from time to time believes he is the late General Franco and, wearing a tricorne hat bought from some military uniform shop, gets on the phone to today's German Defence Ministry to request the bombing of the Basque town Guernica by Field Marshal Goering's aircraft. “It's General Franco calling.” I gather he can't speak German or Spanish, so compromises with English. Delusions of grandeur would hint at schizophrenia or bipolar disorder.

‘As far as we know, he isn't addicted to anything at present, so these mental troubles start from deep within, are integral, not merely prompted by come-and-go outside influences – say, H or crack. Perhaps the name of that road here, Valencia Esplanade, planted the Spanish idea in him, and it has stuck. Megalomania? Oh, I recognize that Bertrand Russell said although most lunatics suffered from this, many great men in history did, too. Maybe that's the bet Shale is making. And you, also, think Arlington is one of the great men of the future, do you, not a part-time madman?'

Iles said: ‘Well, sir, we all have our little spells of—'

‘I hear he vows to throw his enemies over a cliff to avenge the Rightists killed like that at Ronda in the Spanish Civil War, at least according to Hemingway in
For Whom the Bell Tolls
.'

Iles said: ‘I suppose we're all inclined to say things when excited that—'

‘But Arlington and the ruins of Mansel Shale's firm are not my principal concerns at present,' Upton said. ‘I want the elimination of Ember as a trade master. Our two Enter-and-Search Officers with us today will give a survey now of the Low Pastures interior and the outbuildings. They will, of course, accompany you on any visit you make to Ember's property.'

After their excitement at seeing Iles get back to being Iles, the pair of officers had slumped a bit in boredom when he went on about his wife and the parks, etcetera. Most headquarters staff had frequently witnessed and heard this kind of outburst from the ACC. Some enjoyed every further performance; others did not. Anyway, now the two perked up and on a conference easel showed flip-chart plans of the manor house and sketches of its grounds, stables and gardens.

‘Essential, as ever, in this kind of project that the search is swift,' Upton said, ‘so that no destruction or concealment of evidence might be effected. But I hardly need to say this to people of your experience, Desmond, Colin, Francis.'

Iles said: ‘Ralph Ember is—'

‘I read in
The Times
that Stephenson, head of the Met, talking to the Police Foundation, estimates that only just over a tenth of the most prosperous organized criminal gangs in Britain are effectively countered by police,' Upton replied. ‘Six hundred and sixty out of six thousand. I want us to be one of that six hundred and sixty. I want us to be in that tenth, and near the top of it, or actually first, Desmond, and I wouldn't say we are at present. Would you?'

Iles said: ‘With someone like Ember we—'

‘Would you claim we are in that tenth, Desmond?' Upton had asked.

Iles said: ‘What we have to remember with someone like Ralph Ember is—'

‘I certainly shall not presume to enter into the details of how this operation is to be conducted,' Upton said. ‘But I thought it only wise and helpful to order up these drawings for our meeting today.'

In the lift, Iles said: ‘Col, this one isn't a cunt, not like that cunt Mark Lane.'

The ACC prepared the Ember visit over the next few days. Now, as the team entered Low Pastures, he said: ‘Chief Inspector Francis Garland is in charge of this little excursion, Ralph. He is Gold command. Harpur and I are here as observers only. We considered someone of your standing required our attendance. Garland has his unsavoury side, but that shouldn't affect things now.'