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Authors: Stephen Leather

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BOOK: Soft Target
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'I'm sorry,' she said.

Shepherd looked at his watch.

'Really, this won't take long,' she said. 'I'm not going to ask you to lie on a sofa and talk about your mother. I just want a quick chat.'

¦ 'You want to evaluate my mental state to see whether or not I'm suitable for undercover work,' said Shepherd. 'I don't mean to sound paranoid,' he added.

'Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean we're not out ¦ to get you,' she said. She smiled and took a sip of her coffee.

'Dan - it's okay if I call you Dan, is it?'

'Anything's better than Detective Constable.'

One of his mobiles rang. It was Hargrove. 'I've got to take this,' he said. 'Can you wait for me in the sitting room?' He 163 went out into the garden before he took the call. 'If you're calling to check whether she's here, the answer's yes,' he said frostily.

'Excuse me?' said Hargrove.

'The psychologist. She's here.'

'Ah,' said Hargrove. 'That's not why I'm calling, but I'm glad you two are talking.'

'Because you don't think I'm up to the job?'

'Because we all deal with stress in different ways, and she can help you cope with what's going on in your life.'

'And what if I refuse to talk to her?'

'That in itself is a sign that something's amiss,' said Hargrove. 'It's like a guy with cancer refusing to see a specialist. Denial doesn't solve anything.'

'I don't have cancer, and I'm not in denial,' said Shepherd.

'Spider, will you cut me some slack here? You have to see a certified psychologist at least twice a year. You know that.

All agents do.'

'This is different, and you know it is. She's here to see if I'm firing on all cylinders or if I'm a few sandwiches short of a picnic. And I know I'm mixing my metaphors.'

Hargrove chuckled. 'Just have a chat with her, and that'll be the end of it.'

'Unless she discovers I'm suicidal.'

'Are you?'

'Of course not,' said Shepherd, then flushed as he realised the superintendent was joking. 'If you're not calling about her, then what's up?' he asked.

'Angie Kerr,' said Hargrove. 'Good news, bad news. The good news is that the GPS wants to do a deal with her.'

'And the bad?'

'They want you to make the approach. Because you were on the original case, the Hendrickson one, they want continuity of investigation. If someone else takes over now it'll be 164 harder to show the chain of the investigation down the line.

Charlie Kerr could scream entrapment if a new officer makes the approach. If you do it, it becomes part of the ongoing investigation. You were pursuing the case against her but offered her the option of giving evidence against her husband.'

'I hope you told them no,' said Shepherd. 'There's no way j | I want a gangster like Charlie Kerr knowing I was on his case. And it'll all come out in pre-trial disclosure if I make the approach.'

'I'm ahead of you, Spider,' said Hargrove. 'I told them in no uncertain terms that your security is paramount.'

'They actually thought I'd go to Angie Kerr and tell her I was an undercover cop? How stupid are the GPS?'

' 1 'They just want to make the best case they can,' said Hargrove. 'You can see their point. I've suggested we fix up another meeting, then we move in and arrest you and her at I j the same time. She'll think we have you in custody and that 1 ' you'll roll over on her. We give her the out of rolling over on her husband and that should be that.'

'I'm due to start with SO 19 on Monday,' said Shepherd.

'You know how hard it is to stay in character on a job. Am I supposed to hold down two now?'

'It would just be a meet. You can say you want to go over a few details.'

'I'm not sure about this,' said Shepherd. 'We already have the evidence against her. Manchester CID can bust her for » conspiracy to murder on that, and they don't have to tell her * I was undercover. Bearing in mind what her husband will do to her, she'd be a fool to turn down any deal.'

'If she sees you arrested, she'll know it's over.'

Shepherd sighed. 'Okay. When? I'm on duty all next week,

two until ten every day. I can hardly tell them I'm taking a day off to go to Manchester.'

'What about this afternoon?'

Shepherd cursed. There was time to fix up a meet in Manchester, but it was a long drive and the weekend traffic would be a nightmare. 'I'll phone her and get back to you,'

he said.

'Thanks, Spider. I've got your SO 19 legend ready and a vehicle. I'll get them to you this afternoon.'

Shepherd cut the connection, left the mobile on the kitchen table with the two others and went through to the sitting room. The woman was sitting in one of the armchairs. She had taken a clipboard out of her briefcase and was sitting with it on her lap. Her coffee was on a side table. Shepherd headed for the sofa, then stopped himself and sat in one of the armchairs instead. 'Don't read anything into my choice of seat,' he said. 'I can let you finish your coffee but then I've got to drive up to Manchester. Hargrove's orders. If you have a problem with that, take it up with him.'

'Fine,' she said. 'By the way, I'm Kathy Gift. It's Dr Gift,

actually, but I take your point about not using honorifics.'

'Gift?'

'As in present,' she said. 'It used to be longer. My great grandparents were German. They cut off a few syllables when they moved to England.' She crossed her legs. She was wearing a dark blue skirt that rose above her knees, a matching jacket and a cream shirt. There was a gold necklace with a Star of David round her neck. 'Did you meet my predecessor?'

she asked.

The previous psychologist had been a sixty-year-old man who wore tweed jackets and smoked a briar pipe. He had a clutch of professional qualifications and was one of the most humourless men that Shepherd had ever met. 'Only when I had to.'

'And you weren't impressed?'

'He was a clever guy, but unless you've done what we do it's hard to understand what's involved.'

; 'The pressures?'

'I'm not saying you can't empathise, because of course you can. But that's a world away from understanding what we go through.'

'Is it possible to explain what it's like?'

'You've spoken to other agents, haven't you?'

She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. 'They all say the same thing initially,' she said. 'Unless you've done it, you can't understand what it's like.'

'There you go, then.'

'But after a few sessions, they realise I'm there to help,

not to be judgemental or make career decisions. I'm just someone you can unburden yourself to. Someone who can i offer an objective view on how to deal with problems that , arise.'

* Shepherd's brow creased. 'But you're more than that,

aren't you? You've a direct line to Hargrove, and if you think a guy's going over the edge you're duty-bound to tell him.'

'Is that how you're feeling - that you're about to go over the edge?'

I Shepherd chuckled. 'You don't miss a trick, do you?'

'I'm not trying to trick you. I just want to know what makes you tick. Superintendent Hargrove is concerned, that's all.

You've been under a lot of stress lately and he wants reassurance that all's well.'

'I can do the job. Isn't that all that matters?'

'Short term, of course results are important. But think of a racing car belting along at top speed and developing a fault.

Until it blows apart everything probably seems fine.'

'Does he think I might fall apart?'

'Don't read too much into that analogy,' she said. 'And he thinks highly of you. You know that.'

'But he still wants me to talk to a shrink.'

'Think of it as preventive maintenance.'

Shepherd sipped his coffee. 'Okay, let's talk technique.

You've read my file?'

'Of course.'

'So you know about my trick memory.'

'Photographic, it says in the file.'

'Whatever. I can recall pretty much everything I see or hear. It fades eventually if I don't use the information, but short term it's infallible. It's because of my memory that I ha\\= few problems in maintaining my cover stories. I'm able to compartmentalise the roles I play. I put them on and take them off like I change clothes.'

'As easy as that?'

'It's not easy, but it's easier for me than it is for a guy who has to try to remember what he said to whom and where he was when he said it. I can cross-reference everything without thinking about it.'

'You're lucky.'

'I guess.'

'But you've been less lucky on the home front.' She was watching for his reaction.

'I'm handling it,' he said.

'How?'

'My boy's staying with his grandparents and I'm interviewing au pairs. As soon as I've found one Liam can move back in with me.'

'That's not handling what happened, is it? You're dealing with practicalities, not your feelings.'

'My feelings don't come into it. My wife died, it was a damn shame, but life goes on.'

'You miss her.' It was a statement, not a question.

'Of course I miss her.'

'And Liam?'

'He lost his mother.'

'Does he talk about it?'

'No.'

'Have you raised it with him?'

'I don't want to upset him. He's a child.'

'He has to talk about it, Dan. And so do you.'

'In time.'

She smiled sympathetically. Shepherd was an expert at reading faces, but he still couldn't tell if her smile was genuine or not. 'There's nothing wrong with grief,' she said. 'It's part of the process.'

'I know, eight stages,' said Shepherd. 'Denial, anger,

bargaining, guilt, depression, loneliness, acceptance and hope.'

'And what stage are you at?'

'I know Sue's dead, there's no one to be angry with, there's no one to make a deal with to get her back, it wasn't my fault so I don't feel guilty, I'm too busy to be depressed, I don't get lonely, I accept that she isn't coming back. So where does that leave me? At hope? Hoping for what?'

'It's interesting that you say there's no one to be angry with.'

'It was an accident. She was driving Liam to school and went through a red light. A truck hit her. End of story.'

'You don't have to be angry with a person. You can simply be angry with the unfairness of it. Why your wife? Why not some other woman on the school-run?'

'Shit happens.'

'Yes, but when it does, don't we wonder why it's happened to us?'

'Thinking about it won't bring her back.'

'So you block it.'

'You're putting words into my mouth.'

'So tell me what words you'd use. At the moment all I'm getting is negatives. You're not guilty, you're not angry, you're not depressed. What are you?'

'I really am going to have to get my skates on,' said 169 Shepherd. He stood up. 'I don't want to be rude but I have to go.'

'What you really mean is that you want me to go.'

'That's right.'

She stood up and handed him her mug. 'I want to schedule a meeting with you over the next few days.'

'I'll let you know.'

Gift's eyes hardened. 'I don't think you understand, Dan.

I'm not asking, I'm telling. I have the authority to remove you from active service if I'm not completely satisfied that you're up to the job.'

'Bollocks.'

She flashed him a tight smile. 'Check with the superintendent if you like, but he'll confirm what I'm saying.'

'The case I'm on is more important than whether or not I cry myself to sleep at night.' He held up his hand quickly.

'Not that I do.'

'Have you cried at all since your wife died?'

The question stopped Shepherd in his tracks and he lowered his hand. He hadn't cried when he'd learned that Sue had died. And he hadn't cried at her funeral. Or afterwards,

when he lay alone in the double bed, still able to smell her perfume on the pillow. He wasn't the crying sort. He'd lost friends, seen two blown to bits by a landmine in Kuwait,

but he'd never cried for them. If you saw action you saw death, and there wasn't time to stand over a grave bawling your eyes out. But friends and fellow soldiers weren't wives,

and it was only when Gift asked the question that Shepherd saw something was wrong when a husband didn't weep for his dead wife.

Gift touched his elbow. 'I'm not the enemy, Dan. I'm here to make your life easier.'

'I can't come into the office,' he said quietly.

'No one's asking you to,' she said. 'I can come to you.'

'And all we do is talk?'

'Just talk. What about Monday?'

'I start the new job on Monday,' he said. 'I don't need any distractions.'

'Tuesday, then? Or Wednesday?'

'Wednesday,' said Shepherd. 'I'll be here most of the morning.' He had already checked with SO 19 and he was on the two until ten shift for the first week.

He accompanied her to the front door and let her out. He watched her walk to her black Mazda sports car. He wondered what her choice of car said about her. He had been telling the truth when he told her he could slip into and out of his roles without difficulty. What he hadn't told her was that he was often more comfortable when he was playing a role than when he was being himself. And even he knew that that wasn't a good sign.

I As the psychologist drove away, Shepherd saw a girl walking briskly towards his garden gate. She was in her twenties, dark hair dyed blonde, wearing a knee-length black leather coat.

She walked down the path. 'My name is Halina, from the agency,' she said. She had high cheekbones, green, catlike eyes, gleaming white teeth and a slight American accent.

Shepherd shook her hand. Her nails were painted red but 1 bitten to the quick and she had silver rings on most of her fingers. 'Where are you from, Halina?' he asked as they went inside.

'From Poland,' she said. 'Warsaw. I have my references here.' She handed him a large manila envelope. 'My name,

it means “light” in English.'

¦ Shepherd opened the envelope. There was a letter from a factory manager in Warsaw saying that she was a hard worker and good timekeeper, another from an American couple who said she had done a great job taking care of their six-year old daughter during their year-long stay in the Polish capital.

BOOK: Soft Target
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