Free Death to Pay by Derek Fee Page B

regulations were adhered to. Eric Taylor was the oldest on the team. He knew all the ropes and every copper in every station in Belfast. But he was one year away from retirement, and it was beginning to show. The members of the team had strengths and weaknesses, and it was his job to play to the strengths and minimise the weaknesses. He was hardly five minutes in his office alone when his phone rang. It was an invitation for a second visit to HQ in one day. A second invitation didn’t bode well.
     
     
    Wilson was ushered directly into the DCC’s office as soon as he arrived at HQ. He was somewhat surprised to find Maggie Cummerford sitting facing DCC Jennings. He remembered Cummerford from her short stint as a crime reporter for the Chronicle, but he hadn’t seen her in some time. Then he remembered the wave at the press conference. ‘I can wait outside,’ Wilson said quickly. ‘Until you’re finished.’
    ‘This concerns you,’ Jennings said pointing at the second chair in front of his desk.
    ‘I don’t understand,’ Wilson moved slowly towards the chair and sat with some reluctance.
    ‘It appears that the Chronicle wishes to write a complimentary article about the PSNI, and it will be centred on the work of the Murder Squad,’ Jennings had his two hands together in a praying manner covering his mouth as he spoke. His voice was strained as though something was caught in his throat.
    Wilson looked at Cummerford wondering what the hell was going on. ‘Sir, I am involved in perhaps the most difficult and without doubt the most politically charged murder case of my career. Perhaps it would be more appropriate for the Chronicle to highlight the work of some other section of the Force.’
    ‘The decision has been made,’ Jennings said sharply. ‘The Editor insists that, given your sporting past and the level of name recognition that you have, you are the optimum candidate to represent the new PSNI. I’m not sure that I share his opinion, but I have been prevailed upon to agree.’ He bridled at the smirk on Cummerford’s face. ‘This young lady will have total access to you and your team during the Lizzie Rice murder investigation. That access concludes when the investigation concludes.’
    ‘I’m afraid I must press the issue with the Chief Constable,’ Wilson said trying to take in the impact of having a journalist around during an investigation.
    ‘Please be my guest. The Chief has already given his approval. He thinks it will show the Force in a good light and to be open and transparent.’
    Wilson was loath to give in. ‘Things may be said and done during an investigation that we would not want to reach the public domain.’
    Jennings leaned back in his chair. ‘As I understand the brief, the focus is on you as an individual and not on the murder investigation. The article will not concern itself with the investigation or with any of your colleagues.’
    Maggie Cummerford nodded when Wilson looked at her.
    Something was very wrong here. He remembered that Cummerford had mentioned wanting to do a profile on him some months previously, but he had no idea how she or her editor had managed to convince the Chief Constable that having her follow him around during an investigation was a good idea. ‘I would like to have my objection recorded, and I will need a written confirmation that HQ has insisted on this action.’
    ‘Done,’ Jennings said simply. ‘Please wait outside. Miss Cummerford will join you shortly, and you can make arrangements. I have given instructions that Miss Cummerford is to be provided with a visitor’s badge.’
    Wilson stood and realised that his fists were clenched. If this was another attempt by Jennings to undermine him, it was a damn clumsy one. He turned and made for the door.
    ‘I don’t like you,’ Jennings said when Wilson had left the room. ‘And I don’t like having my arm twisted.’ He removed the cassette from his desk drawer and pulled the tape out squashing