Tales from the Triverse

Backdoors: Part 4

Late shift
On duty: DC Nisha Chakraborty, DC Zoltan Kaminski, DC Lola Styles, DC Yannick Clarke

London
1972. November.

"I'm really very impressed," said Frederick Lance, shaking Clarke's hand effusively. They were stood in the SDC office, a light patter of rain on the windows and the late afternoon sky grey and heavy.

"Just doing the job, Mr Lance," Clarke said, forcing a smile and considering exit strategies from the conversation. He heard a door open and was relieved to see Chakraborty and Kaminski enter. "These two were leading on the case, so it's them you should really be thanking."

Lance beamed at the others. "Well, in that case let me extend my gratitude. Without you I would be considerably shorter on funds, and who wants that in the run-up to Christmas, eh? The grandchildren would be most put out."

"Thanks for your assistance, sir," Kaminski said. "We appreciate you agreeing to cooperate with the operation."

"What can I say? Was something of a thrill to be part of a police sting operation. A fine story to tell next time I'm at the club, eh?"

"If you could keep it to yourself for the moment," Chakraborty said, "at least until the trial is complete."

Lance nodded and put a finger to the side of his nose. "Of course, of course. Mum's the word."

The entrance door swung open and DI Ford entered, arriving for the night. Clarke suppressed a smirk. This should be entertaining. Ford was renowned for his patience and empathy with the London elite.

"Sir, this is Frederick Lance," Kaminski said, and Clarke thought he saw a wink. "Mr Lance, this is Detective Inspector Robert Ford. Mr Lance here has helped us with the sting operation on the fraud case."

Ford's eyes narrowed as he shifted gears to recall the particulars. "Did it turn out to be what you suspected?"

"It did."

"Nicely done," Ford stepped forward and extended a hand. "Mr Lance, your help is appreciated."

"Well, yes, it was the least a humble citizen like myself could do." Lance shook Ford's hand for longer than was strictly necessary, and Clarke could see the distaste already rising on Ford's face. "In fact, I would very much like to make a contribution to your department, Detective Ford. I will have my people talk to the Commissioner. Your staff have saved me from losing millions, so it seems prudent to invest some of that back into this place." He glanced around the office, the corner of his lip curling as if he wasn't impressed by what he saw.

Ford smiled, the smile of a wolf about to eat a sheep. "That would be grand, Mr Lance. My 'staff' will be thrilled."

"Good, excellent!" Lance leaned in conspiratorially and looked each of them in the eye. It's important we stick together, us Earth humans. We were here first and we need to make sure everyone knows that. Well, I must be going. I presume I'll hear from you if I'm needed for the hearing? I'd be more than happy to provide a statement condemning that criminal thug."

Kaminski gestured towards the door. "Absolutely, let me see you out, Mr Lance."

"Very good to meet you all!" Lance declared, as he was escorted gently from the premises.

Clarke stood with his hands in his pockets, and looked expectantly over to Ford. The door clicked shut behind Lance and Ford sighed loudly. "What a gaping arsehole," he said.

"You only had to deal with him for five minutes," Chakraborty said, glowering at him, "I've been sweet talking him for days now."

"Well, good job, Nisha. Make sure you wash your hands thoroughly. What about the guy?"