‘Does anyone fancy boiling an egg?’ Poe said.
No one laughed.
Poe started counting Mississippis. When he got to three hundred, the van stopped. He felt fresh air on his neck. Someone had opened a window. He heard muffled chatter – sounded as though credentials were being checked – then something being raised or lowered. Some sort of checkpoint. The van moved forward again. Then it stopped and the engine was turned off.
The door opened and he was helped to his feet. His leg restraints were loosened but not removed. He was guided out of the van and on to the ground. The echo of his boots made it sound like he was inside, but in a large building. Someone held his shoulder and pushed him forward. Shuffling and hooded, like he was the Elephant Man, Poe started walking.
The echo faded. Carpet, not tiles.
He was pushed into a room and made to sit in an uncomfortable chair. His leg restraints were removed. So were his handcuffs. Poe brought his hands round to his front and rubbed his wrists. Flexed his fists. Tried to get the blood moving again. His hood was removed.
He was in an interrogation room. He was seated on the perp’s side, the side with the eyebolt on the table. He put his hands next to it, expecting to be secured. Instead, the men who’d brought him in left the room. One of them returned with a bottle of still water. Poe opened and drained it. Getting abducted by the state was thirsty work.
He checked his watch. He’d been in their custody for forty minutes and still no one had said who they were or what they were doing. Poe got up and stretched his legs. He checked the door. It was locked. He felt like banging on it and shouting about having rights. He thought whoever was watching him through the dome camera stuck to the ceiling would find that funny.
After another hour someone brought him a sandwich and a packet of cheese and onion crisps. Part of a Tesco meal deal. Poeate the crisps but left the sandwich unopened. It was tuna. An hour later he opened it. Half an hour after that, he ate it.
He wondered where Uncle Bertie was. He hoped he wasn’t still in the pub. He’d be rat-arsed by now if he was.
And an hour after that a tall gangly man walked in. He took the seat opposite and sighed.
‘You really are the most bothersome man, Sergeant Poe,’ Alastor Locke said.
Chapter 52
Poe’s immediate thought on being abducted in broad daylight was that he’d unwittingly stumbled into a police operation. Maybe something to do with county lines, the term for organised criminal groups moving drugs from big cities to smaller towns and rural areas. But Alastor Locke’s appearance meant he hadn’t stumbled into a police operation; he’d stumbled into asecurity servicesoperation.
Poe wasn’t big on coincidences. He didn’t think they were God’s way of staying anonymous. He thought coincidences were best left to the authors of bad fiction. Poe was more in Doctor Theodore Woodward’s camp – when you hear hoofbeats, think horses not zebras. Poe had chased down a suspect to a small estate in a small town in North Yorkshire, and the security services happened to be running an operation there? He didn’t think so.
‘Ezekiel Puck is one of yours, isn’t he?’ he said.
‘Your timing is as impeccable as ever, Sergeant Poe,’ Locke said. ‘I was having lunch with the Home Secretary when I was told someone was creeping around Ezekiel’s house. Have you met her?’
‘No, Alastor, I haven’t met the Home Secretary.’
‘She’s the most loathsome woman. Always serves salad for lunch.’
Poe said nothing. He hadn’t voted for the Home Secretary’s party and now he knew she served salad to her guests, he never would.
‘Anyway, as you might have gathered,’ Locke continued, ‘we’ve been watching the house belonging to the man you know as Ezekiel Puck.’
‘Is he the sniper?’ Poe said. He’d found direct questions worked best with Alastor Locke. Closed, not open. Locke was the slipperiest bastard Poe had ever met.
Locke nodded. ‘We think so.’
‘Think so?’
‘Yes, he is.’
Poe was surprised. He’d expected an outright denial. At best, pontification. But Locke hadn’t denied it. He’d said yes. Right out of the blocks. Poe shook his head in disgust. ‘Then you’re just as culpable as him.’
‘Please explain.’
‘If you’d told us who it was from the start, we might have been able to stop this. Instead, you’ve had us chasing down every stupid clue, the most obscure leads.’
‘Yes, I gather you make a very fetching Doctor Who, Poe.’
Poe started to get out of his seat. Fists clenched.
