The Puppet Show (Washington Poe)

‘Good enough then,’ Barrett said. ‘Jonathan Pierce, I’m formally suspending you for gross misconduct, bullying and using offensive language. Please let me have your credentials and we’ll arrange for a disciplinary hearing, at which point you’ll no doubt be formally dismissed from the NCA.’

‘But-but-but everyone calls her that,’ Jonathan said.

Poe could almost hear the room’s sharp intake of breath. Jonathan had just committed the cardinal sin: ratting out colleagues to save his own skin.

Poe said, ‘Anyone else here committed gross misconduct?’

No one moved. A couple of people looked guilty, but it didn’t look as though anyone was about to fall on their sword.

‘Nope? Just you it seems, Jonathan,’ Poe said. He leaned in and whispered, ‘And if I hear there’s been any comeback on my friend Tilly, I’ll hunt you down and twist your fucking fingers clean off. Are we clear? Nod if you understand.’

Jonathan nodded.

‘Good,’ Poe said. ‘Now fuck off.’ He let Jonathan go and he slumped to the ground.

Turning to Bradshaw, he said, ‘You don’t need a tent, Tilly. You’ll be staying in a hotel with DI Flynn. You got everything else?’

She managed a nod.

‘What you waiting for then? Let’s go and catch us a serial killer.’

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Poe had assumed the three of them would share the driving. They’d pulled over at some services in Cheshire after Bradshaw had announced, ‘I need the toilet’, but when Poe threw her the keys and told her she’d be driving the last leg, she’d told him she didn’t have a driving licence.

He thought for a moment. ‘So why the hell have you been sitting in the passenger seat all this time? Non-drivers sit in the back.’

She folded her arms. ‘I always sit in the passenger seat. It’s statistically the safest.’

Flynn stopped the argument before it could start by climbing into the rear. ‘I prefer the back anyway, Poe,’ she explained.

Bradshaw continued lecturing them on car safety as Poe pulled back onto the M6. He stopped listening before he was off the slip road.

He’d never met anyone like her. She didn’t seem to understand any of society’s basic norms. There was no filter between her brain and her mouth and she blurted out whatever she was thinking. She had little to no understanding of non-verbal communication: she either refused to make eye contact or wouldn’t break it. If he ignored her when she said his name, she simply repeated it until he answered.

After a while, they descended into silence.

Poe glanced in the rear-view mirror. Flynn was asleep. ‘Can you do me a favour, Tilly?’ He reached into his jacket pocket and passed over his BlackBerry. ‘There’s an e-diary thing and some sort of tracking app on this phone.

Can you disable them?’

‘Yes, Poe.’

She made no move to take it.

‘Will you disable them?’

She hesitated. ‘Am I supposed to?’

‘Yes,’ he lied.

She nodded and started fiddling with his phone.

‘But if DI Flynn asks, don’t tell her,’ he added.

‘Do you like working for SCAS, Tilly?’ he said five minutes after she’d returned his BlackBerry.

‘Oh gosh, yes,’ she replied, her face lighting up. ‘It’s marvellous. It’s not everywhere you get to adapt theoretical mathematics into real-world applications.’