‘Even if you’re right, even if Coe’s onto something, how can you stop it by yourselves? Those four … I mean, seriously? Louisa’s got her head screwed on I’ll grant you, but the other three are dangerous. And not in a good way.’
‘River’s better than that. It’s not his fault he was assigned here.’
‘That’s what makes him dangerous. He’s got too much to prove.’
‘Maybe we could just agree to differ.’
‘Let me go. We’ll take your theories to the Park. The worst that could happen, you’re proved wrong. And if you’re proved right instead, well. It could turn all your careers round. But not if you go about it like this.’
Catherine said, ‘This is Slough House. We could produce a signed affidavit from whoever’s running Daesh today, outlining their plans for the next twelve months, and Di Taverner would screw it up and bin it before she’d act on it.’
‘People might die,’ Emma Flyte said.
‘People already have,’ Catherine said. ‘And whatever you think of Jackson, take it from me. If he can stop another Abbotsfield happening, he will.’
I’m very nearly positive about that, she thought.
Flyte opened her mouth to reply but before she could do so, he was back in the room: their supposed lord and master.
‘I didn’t hear a flush,’ Catherine said suspiciously.
‘No,’ said Lamb. ‘
‘And you thought being handcuffed was cruel and unusual,’ she said to Emma.
Lamb scooped up the bag of Haribo Shirley had abandoned and collapsed onto a chair: his usual challenge to the office furniture. Which sooner or later would surely rise up and smite him, but this didn’t happen today. ‘So. Has she confessed yet?’
‘… Confessed?’
‘Sorry. Flashback. I meant, has she had a cup of tea? Don’t want anyone thinking I don’t know how to treat a guest.’
Emma Flyte said, ‘We were just discussing how much shit you’re in.’
‘You could hear it from here?’
‘That’s even without whatever happens once your crew start playing
Lamb said, ‘I feel like I should warn you at this point – last guy we used those handcuffs on, it didn’t end well.’
‘For you or for him?’
‘I’m still here,’ Lamb pointed out.
‘How long have you been getting away with this?’
‘This?’
She jerked her head, a gesture meant to include everything. ‘This. Slough House. Your crew. The whole making-it-up-as-you-go-along schtick.’
Lamb said, ‘I’ve been here since the start.’
‘That doesn’t surprise me.’
‘It was my idea, in fact.’
‘What, you took a long hard look at your career and decided to franchise it?’
Catherine said, ‘He was a joe.’
Emma turned her way. ‘What?’
‘He worked undercover.’
‘I know what it means. I’m wondering why you’re defending him.’
‘I’m not. I’m warning you not to underestimate him.’
‘If you’re going to wrestle,’ said Lamb, ‘I may have to film it for later study.’ He looked at Catherine. ‘Do we have any jelly?’
‘Let me go now. It’s not too late to straighten this out.’
‘By informing the Park? That’s not really going to help.’
‘Because the Park won’t pay attention, I know.’
‘And because Coe was right.’ Lamb watched her reaction, multitasking by shovelling Haribo into his mouth and washing them down with a swallow from the bottle of red. ‘He opens his trap maybe once a month. When he actually says something, he’s usually sure of his ground.’
‘He looks like a disaster victim.’
‘And you look like a catwalk model. Does that mean we shouldn’t take you seriously?’
She said, ‘So let’s say he’s right. Even if the Park don’t listen, tell them about it and you’ve covered your back.’
‘Yeah, not really. Because if these guys are laying waste to the country using a script the Service wrote, there are few lengths the Park won’t go to to cover it up. And anyone who knows about it will be in the firing line. Which includes you, if you’d lost count. Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’ll be safe when they start playing London Rules. Because you’re not a suit, Flyte. You’re a joe. And joes are expendable.’
‘I’m a cop.’
‘There’s less difference than you might think.’
‘If this is an attempt to get me on board by appealing to our common heritage, we’re in for a long evening.’
Lamb shrugged. ‘I’m in no hurry to be elsewhere. But what I’m appealing to is your survival instincts. How far would you trust Diana Taverner?’
‘Not much further than I trust you.’
‘So if you head back to the Park now, tell Lady Di that my crew, far from being locked down, are out on the streets with their Batcapes on, how do you think she’ll react? Pat on the back? Or kick up the arse?’
‘I’d like to see her try,’ Flyte muttered.
‘There’s the cop talking.’ Whatever Lamb had just put in his mouth was the wrong flavour, and he paused to spit it back into the bag. ‘But I’m betting your job won’t survive her discovering you’ve fucked up again.’
‘Again?’
