‘As you wish, ma’am.’
Silence fell. She eyed him. ‘There’s more, isn’t there?’
‘Well, not regarding that particular issue, ma’am, but certainly Team Two-Three-Six-related.’
‘Oh God, what have they done now?’
‘They haven’t done anything. It’s other people.’
‘Has there been fighting in the corridors again? I’m prepared to turn a blind eye occasionally, Charlie, but it’s becoming a war zone out there.’
‘No, no. I have here . . .’ he pulled out several pieces of paper, ‘three applications to join Team Two-Three-Six.’
He placed them gently on the desk before her.
She gazed at them in stunned disbelief. ‘From whom?’
‘From serving officers, ma’am.’
‘To join Team Two-Three-Six?’
‘Yes.’
‘To be clear – Team Weird.’
‘Yes.’
She stared. ‘You cannot be serious.’
‘Indeed I am, ma’am.’
She was silent as the implications sunk in. ‘But this means . . .’
‘It does, indeed. People – not everyone, but some – are beginning to appreciate the way Team Two-Three-Six works. They like the . . . unconventionality . . . of their methods.’ He looked at her. ‘Congratulations, ma’am. The mould is cracking. There are officers out there who are openly discussing different ways of doing things. Your way of doing things.’
She got up to stare out of the window.
‘It’s not an avalanche, ma’am, which is probably just as well. I agree with you that a gradual change is what’s called for here, but these are, perhaps, the first few small pebbles.’ He smiled. ‘Even Lt Grint is seeing the funny side of this morning. Yes, a few officers did venture to offer their own opinions on how the situation should have been handled – torch the kitchen just to be on the safe side and arrest Mrs Chubb for time-wasting – but I believe that was all settled after a small – and surprisingly bloodless – scuffle in the corridor.’
‘A scuffle in the corridor?’
‘A very small scuffle in the corridor, ma’am. Hardly even worth mentioning.’
‘A scufflette, in fact.’
‘Another excellent word, ma’am, but you may rest assured most people are now fully on board with what is generally reckoned to be Lt Grint’s imaginative and sensitive handling of the situation.’
He paused for them both to get their heads around the words Grint, imaginative and sensitive together in the same sentence.
She closed the file. ‘A busy morning for everyone.’
‘Indeed, ma’am,’ he said, beginning to shuffle his papers together.
‘Deny their requests,’ she said suddenly.
‘Ma’am?’
‘I don’t want Two-Three-Six diluted. If teams want to reproduce their working methods then they should be encouraged to do so, but no – Team Two-Three-Six remains unchanged. Ellis, North, Parrish, Lockland and Farrell.’
He nodded and closed the file. ‘As you wish, ma’am.’
NOW IT’S THE END
Acknowledgements
Thanks, as always, to everyone at Headline. My editor, Frankie, and Bea, Jenni and everyone else who had a hand in making my scribblings fit for human consumption.
Thanks to my agent – the prosecco-draped, diamond-drinking Hazel, righting the world armed only with her knitting sticks.
Thanks to Phil Dawson, whose knowledge of weapons, tactics and violence in general is alternately useful and disconcerting.
Thanks to everyone who’s had to put up with me while I wrote this. You are unsung but not unappreciated.
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