Free A Bleeding of Innocents by Jo Bannister

London, with boats and businesses and cafés and yuppie-hutches. Only when Carney moved in all the nice people moved out. So the cafés went up for sale and he bought them too; and the yuppies moved out and now half the flats are vacant. The boat-owners use it, of course, they’ve no choice. But the council could have saved its money. The place is more like Execution Dock than St Katharine’s.’
    Gold paint notwithstanding, Liz was already getting that impression. When the entry took a sudden steep dive it was like entering the underworld. ‘Still, it is Sunday. Will he be in his office?’
    â€˜Fish don’t stop swimming on Sundays,’ Donovan replied grimly, ‘politicians don’t stop lying, and crooks don’t stop turning blood into money. He’ll be here.’
    â€˜Tell me about him,’ said Liz. ‘How did he get started? How does he work? What’s he into, and for how much?’
    Momentarily Donovan seemed taken aback by the question, as if startled to meet someone who didn’t know all about Jack Carney, his life and times and crimes. Liz understood that. She too had worked on target criminals, immersing herself in their affairs so deeply that she’d found it difficult to return to the world of ordinary people, ordinary problems. It became a kind of obsession, necessarily so; it was a job that couldn’t be done on a nine to five basis, but part of the cost to be paid for success was that police officers had to get down in the dirt with them to fight people like Carney. Donovan had been there. She could see the marks on him.
    After a moment he got his thoughts organized. ‘He started in the protection racket. No, before that he was in construction and somebody tried to put the frighteners on him. Boy, did they ever get it wrong! Carney not only didn’t cave in, he took the firm over. They were only local lads trying to turn a dishonest penny, but by the time Carney had sorted them they were a major employer in these parts. All the usual victims – building firms, pubs and clubs, and just about any business run by immigrants. They’re a soft touch: until they’ve been here a while they’d rather pay up than come to us. They don’t like to make a fuss. Maybe they think it’s part of the local culture,’ he added disgustedly.
    â€˜Well, it’s no great leap of the imagination from protection to drugs. Bouncers are always in the right place at the right time, unless they’re dead straight they’re an ideal outlet. You catch the odd one but Carney pays him to say he was moonlighting and when he comes out he’s got a new car and a time-share in Spain.
    â€˜Another thing bouncers are useful for is reminding gamblers of their moral obligations. Illegal gambling’s a big money-spinner’ – Donovan acknowledged the pun with a grim smile – ‘so he’s into that too. Ah, but he’s clever. Nothing as simple as a room above the pub we could raid from time to time. He’s used a boat on the canal, a caravan in a field, and a removal van in a layby before now. We get to hear about it afterwards, of course, when it’s too damn late.’
    â€˜Has he ever been charged?’
    â€˜Sure,’ said Donovan. ‘Careless driving. Keeping a dangerous dog. Possession of an unlicensed firearm – it was a war souvenir, general concensus at Forensics was that it’d have blown the hand off anyone who tried to fire it. But for the real stuff, the protection, the drugs, the gambling, the hookers – did I mention them? – never. Had him in for questioning more times than I can remember but we never came up with evidence a pricey brief couldn’t overturn. Except—’ He didn’t go on.
    â€˜Except?’
    â€˜Except we’d been working hard on him these last few weeks, shaking a lot of trees and watching what fell out. Maybe we’d have got him this