Free Silvermeadow by Barry Maitland

with VDUs, computer screens and zoned alarm panels alive with winking multi-coloured lights. As he described the functions of the pieces of equipment and introduced them to his operatives, Kathy noticed that Harry Jackson had relaxed.
    ‘Nothing like a bit of technology to make everyone feel more secure, eh?’ he said. ‘That’s what people want to keep the bogeyman at bay these days. In the States the latest thing is to have your security centre right up there, in the mall, where everyone can see you behind plate glass, with all your computers and communication equipment, and they can all feel safe in the knowledge that Speedy there is keeping his beady little eyes on everything on legs.’ He nodded at one of the figures watching the VDUs, a pony-tailed man who raised a hand in acknowledgement without turning away from his flickering screens, his jaw muscles working on gum. ‘Although it wouldn’t be Speedy sitting there, nor me come to that, because we’re not photogenic enough.’
    He gave a laugh, and raised a smile from Lowry.
    ‘Straight up, Gavin, it’s true. You should see the girls they have on mall patrol in some of those places in Florida! They look like Hollywood film extras. Leads to a glamourisation of the industry, see?’ He shot a quick glance at Kathy to see if he’d said something inappropriate. Or perhaps her silence was beginning to bother him. ‘I suppose it’ll come to us all, eventually.’
    ‘You keep yourself in pretty good shape, Harry,’ Lowry said. ‘You’ve lost a bit of weight since I saw you last.’
    ‘I do my best, Gavin. At my age you’ve got to take care of yourself. And we’ve got everything here at Silvermeadow, you know. I work out at the gym three times a week, and have a swim most days.’
    ‘What sort of crime do you get here, Harry?’ Brock asked.
    ‘Shop theft’s the main thing, as you’d expect. We work closely with the tenants’ own staff on that. Mostly it’s pathetic or perverse—old ladies or kids from well-to-do homes. Once in a while we get the professionals trying to hit the place, and that’s when we particularly value help from the local CID, of course, like Gavin here. After shoplifting comes car theft from the carparks outside. Again, both amateurs and pros.
    ‘We have, on occasions, had our more exciting moments.’ He smiled grimly. ‘An armed robbery at the bank, and two ram raids last year—stolen vehicles were driven through the glass mall doors and smashed into a shopfront inside. One, a jeweller’s shop, was during shopping hours, and a shopper got run down as they drove back out again. We’ve put bollards at all the mall entrances now to combat that.’
    ‘What about violence against individuals—robbery or assault?’
    He shook his head. ‘Very little. Too chancy, really, with having to make your escape out of the building on foot, and patrols in the mall. Occasionally we get complaints of handbag theft, or some kid comes out of bodybuilding all pumped up and knocks an old geezer in a walking frame. That’s the main thing, really. There are so many different types come here, you’re bound to get some accidental conflict. We’re as much babysitters as watchdogs. We’re all trained in CPR and first aid, and we’re much more likely to be called out for a heart attack or a mislaid toddler than for a crime. Know what I mean?’
    ‘I’d like a complete list of all reported security incidents since the centre opened, Harry,’ Brock said. ‘Can you manage that?’
    ‘No problem.’ He nodded. ‘It’s all on the computer.’
    Lowry said, ‘Sounds boring, Harry.’
    ‘Depends what you’re after, Gavin. Far as I’m concerned this is what policing should be like, how it used to be. We get to know our public. We open up early two mornings a week so the over-sixty power-walkers can do their six lengths of the mall before the rest of the customers arrive, and we make sure the kiddies and the pregnant mums get front-row seats