Free Rough Justice by Stephen Leather Page B

Razor,’ she said. ‘I’ve got the perfect job for you. Infiltrating a right-wing racist group.’
    Sharpe frowned. ‘What?’
    ‘Do you remember a while back when a membership list of the British National Party was posted on-line and it turned out that there were police officers on it?’
    Sharpe nodded.
    ‘The powers-that-be already had the list, as it happens, but because it was in the public domain we had to act. We’ve been a bit more circumspect with another list that we got our hands on some time ago. It’s an organisation called England First, made up of a lot of the heavies in the National Front who weren’t palatable enough for the BNP. And it looks as if one of the TSG sergeants is a member. Gary Dawson.’ She put a photograph of a grey-haired man in his mid-forties on the whiteboard.
    ‘How stupid is he to let his name appear on a membership list?’ asked Shepherd.
    ‘Give him some credit,’ said Button. ‘He used a false name, but there was a pay-as-you-go mobile on the list that we’ve traced to him. Razor, I need you to make contact with England First and worm your way in. With your tendency to make off-the-cuff racist statements, I’m sure you’ll have no problem blending in.’
    ‘I resemble that remark,’ joked Sharpe. He grinned. ‘You know I’m a changed man after the racial-awareness course you sent me on?’
    ‘Yes, Razor, we’re all very impressed with how you’ve managed to drag yourself into the third millennium.’
    ‘But now you want me to undo all that good work by having me pretend to be a dyed-in-the-wool racist?’
    Button flashed him another sarcastic smile. ‘I’m sure you’ll do your best,’ she said. ‘I’ll get someone to brief you on England First.’
    ‘A spook?’ Sharpe grinned again. ‘And by that I mean a member of the Secret Service, of course.’
    ‘It’ll be an intelligence briefing,’ said Button. ‘And I’m sure it’ll make clear just how dangerous these people are. You’re going to have to watch yourself, Razor. They’re the guys who throw petrol bombs through the windows of Asian families and beat up black kids on the streets.’
    ‘What are you saying, Charlie?’ asked Shepherd. ‘Are you saying these vigilante cops are racist?’
    ‘It’s a possibility,’ said Button. ‘A high proportion of the cases we’re looking at involve Afro-Caribbean males.’
    ‘You’re saying that they’re targeting black criminals? Or is it that the criminals they’re targeting happen to be black?’
    ‘That’s a question I hope you’ll be able to answer, Spider.’
    ‘It’s going to be messy, you know that. There’ll be ramifications, either way.’
    ‘I’m aware of what a can of worms this is,’ said Button. ‘And so’s the commissioner.’
    ‘Every case they’ve been involved in, any criminal they dealt with, they’re all going to be given get-out-of-jail-free cards.’
    ‘Probably.’
    ‘And if it’s racism, it’ll rip the Met apart.’
    Button frowned. ‘Are you suggesting that we don’t do anything? Let sleeping dogs lie?’
    Shepherd shook his head. ‘Of course not,’ he said. ‘But if you know that Dawson’s rotten, then split him and his team up. Disperse them. That’ll put an end to it.’
    ‘Or spread the virus throughout the force,’ she said.
    ‘Service,’ said Sharpe.
    ‘What?’ said Button.
    ‘It’s not a police force any more,’ said Sharpe. ‘It’s a service. Which is part of the problem. If the public respected the police the way they used to, and if cops were allowed to deal with villains the way they used to, then there wouldn’t be any need for vigilantes.’
    ‘Yes, well, we’ve moved on since the glory days of the eighties,’ said Button. ‘We’re now dealing with policing in the third millennium and, be it a force or a service, we can’t afford to let the bad apples infect the whole barrel. We have to find out which ones are rotten and weed them out.’
    ‘Publicly?’ said