The Bee's Kiss(20)

He reached his goal – an all-night coffee stall which seemed to be doing good business. Three gents in silk top hats and opera cloaks were talking loudly, sipping fragrant coffee from china mugs. A taxi driver rolled in for a couple of saveloys and a pint mug of tea. A medical student asked for an Oxo and a ham sandwich. Two lean men whose faces he thought he recognized faded rapidly into the shadows at the sight of the police cape.

Armitage approached the counter and looked up into the sweaty, beaming face of the proprietor.

‘Mug of your best java, Zeek, and a couple of those saveloys – they smell good. Keeping busy, I see.’

‘Musn’t grumble. It’ll get busier when the nightclubs turn out. There yer go, Sarge. Mustard with that?

‘No, ta. Do right well as it is. I’ll park me owd bum on that there bench to enjoy ’em.’

He sat down at a rudimentary table thoughtfully and illegally provided on the pavement by the management for revellers too unsteady to hold their mugs after a night on the town. He waited, his back to the stall, a smile on his face.

There it was, the upper-class baritone he’d been expecting.

‘I’ll have the same as the sergeant, thanks.’

Joe put his mug down next to Armitage’s.

‘Shove over a bit! Cigarette first or are we straight into the sausages?’

‘Sausages first, I think, before they start to congeal.’ He noticed with satisfaction that Joe was breathing heavily. ‘Too many hours at the desk, is it, sir?’ he asked innocently.

‘Far too many! God! You’re a hard man to keep up with! Good practice, though! I haven’t done that since I was on the beat.’

‘You haven’t lost the knack, sir. I was well into Soho before I twigged.’

‘Really? Didn’t think I was that good! I must confess I lost you in Bridle Lane. I just guessed you’d fetch up here.’

The two men grinned, open enjoyment outweighing the embarrassment of discovering each other indulging in an activity more suited to a recruit.

‘You’re more at home here than I am, I think,’ said Joe. ‘London man?’

‘Born and bred.’

‘And congratulations on making sergeant, by the way. You can’t have wasted any time?’

‘Five years. No, you’re right, sir. That’s as fast as it gets in the force. Unless . . .’ he added with a sly but obvious sideways look at Joe.

‘I’ll save you saying it,’ Joe interrupted, good-humouredly. ‘Someone once told me I must have had a rocket up my arse to get to my present elevated rank so quickly! True. And the rocket had a name on it! A few years back when I was pounding the beat in the ordinary way – and believe me, Armitage, I’ve done all the basics! . . . ex-officers weren’t spared the training – I had a bit of luck.’ He added slowly, ‘Though it didn’t seem like luck at the time. And it was an odd time. Police union  s, police strikes considerably more than a possibility, a good deal of disenchantment in the force . . .’

‘I remember that,’ said Armitage. ‘Before I joined. I wouldn’t have considered it if it hadn’t all turned around.’

‘Not surprised to hear it. Enormous amount of unfairness and injustice and what happened? To my horror, a delegation of the rank and file – my fellow bobbies – waited on me and asked me if I would not only join but spearhead the police union  ’s protest! Pretty unpromising situation for a bright young chap like me, on the threshold of my new career! Overnight I had the reputation of being a firebrand, a dangerous man . . .’ Joe dropped his voice and added theatrically, ‘an agitator.’

The word, though lightly offered, made Armitage shudder. ‘Bad situation, sir! Promising police career looking a bit blue round the edges? Sacking offence, isn’t it? union   business . . . can get you into trouble.’

‘Certainly did then,’ said Joe. ‘And it wasn’t as though I hadn’t been warned . . . the chap before me who’d complained on behalf of the men – Thomas Thiel, that was his name, ex-Guards officer – had just been dismissed. Sir Edward Henry, the outgoing Commissioner, had got rid of him for fomenting trouble in the ranks. And here I was being invited to put my neck on the same block.’

‘But you did it anyway,’ said Armitage with a smile and a nod. ‘Always did lead from the front!’

‘Well,’ said Joe, ‘it didn’t feel much like leadership at the time. Someone behind me kicked my arse and I picked up the cudgels. There I was, agitating away if you care to put it like that, and my name came to the notice of the man at the top, the new Commissioner of Police. I was put up to represent the men in an informal interview with this chap.’ Joe paused and smiled a grim smile. ‘He was General Sir Nevil Macready.’