Doctor Who_ Warlock - Andrew Cartmel [60]
‘In fact, this young Creed fellow is the reason I brought you here.’ Harrigan went back behind his desk and settled his bulk into the big leather chair. ‘I was wondering if you could spare him for a few weeks.’
‘What?’ Raymond Bowman had suddenly looked up from the gun he was working on. ‘We’ve already had one crook working for us. Isn’t that enough?’
Chavez turned around in his chair to look at Bowman. ‘Who’s saying my man’s a crook?’ Behind him the old Texan sighed. ‘He’s right, Raymond. You’re jumping the gun here.’
‘I’m jumping the gun?’
‘We’re short‐handed now that Miss Summerfield is under suspicion. I’ve got to replace her, son.’
‘Why? We could just stick with the core team.’
The old Texan sighed again. ‘I need someone who can handle warlock. Someone who can go undercover and deal with the users and not freak out.’
‘Not a common skill,’ said Chavez. ‘Do you know how many officers have got killed handling this stuff?’
‘I’m afraid I do,’ said the old Texan. ‘We had a team who infiltrated a drugs buy in Monterey. But the pushers had dropped warlock before the negotiating began. And they sniffed out my team like a hound tracking down a raccoon. They killed all of them. Other times our agents have been forced to take a dose of the stuff themselves and it’s wrecked their minds for good. You’ve never seen such fear on a human face.’ He leaned back in his chair and fumbled for a cigar. For a moment, despite his great size, he seemed a frail old man. ‘That’s why it’s such a shame about Miss Summerfield. She proved she could take warlock and handle it. She could stare the beast right in the face. Smart, brave girl.’
‘Yeah, good old Miss Summerfield,’ said Chavez. ‘What a great girl. Except it turns out she’s a ringer. And you had her working undercover on the same bust as Creed. And I was not informed of any of this. My man’s life was in danger because you put a dirty cop on the same assignment.’
‘We don’t really like to think of ourselves as “cops”, Mr Chavez, and I really don’t think your man was in any danger. Miss Summerfield did a good job. It just turns out that her loyalties are a little more… complicated than we were initially given to understand.’
‘Who’s she working for? Where did she come from?’
‘Well, we were led to believe that she was on loan to us from IDEA in Europe. She arrived here with impeccable credentials. But now new facts have come to light.’ The big Texan nodded at Webster, who looked up from his computer screen and smiled modestly before returning to his work. ‘And so we did some checking and we found out her credentials are forgeries.’
‘Forgeries.’ Chavez nodded unhappily, as if he understood but still couldn’t believe it.
‘Yep. Her ID card, her staff file and even a handwritten letter of commendation from our sector chief in Antwerp. I’ve sent it to our calligraphy people and they had a real good time with that. It’s almost perfect, except it was written in cold tea by someone who was ambidextrous, has learned English as a second language and who isn’t very tall. The computer stuff has all been perfectly forged, of course. Digital is easy to fake.’
‘Great.’
‘So, Mr Chavez, you can imagine my disappointment when I discovered that I’ve got a girl working for me I can no longer trust. And that leaves me short‐handed at a critical time.’
‘Mr Harrigan –’ said Bowman.
‘Hush, Raymond. I need to replace her, and I need someone who can deal with this warlock drug. As far as I can see, that gives me a choice of exactly one candidate. Your man Creed. Will he do it?’
‘I don’t know. Why don’t you ask him?’
‘I intend to.’
* * *
After Chavez had gone, Harrigan got up from his desk and wandered around the office, looking at Webster, busy with his computer, and the Bowmans, both bent over their guns, preoccupied with their endless readiness checks. ‘I think we should send for Artie,’ he announced. ‘He’s the only remaining member of the team who isn’t present. Except for Miss Summerfield of course.’
Christine Bowman whispered something