East of Hounslow. Khurrum Rahman

time frame‚ she feels that she is being rushed into a decision that she doesn’t want to make. They have invested a lot of time and resources targeting the upper-echelon drug dealers. One particular big fish‚ actually.’ Parker reached across to his coat and dug around awkwardly from pocket to pocket and eventually removed a crumpled photograph and placed it on the table next to the photograph of Javid Qasim

      ‘Who are we looking at?’ Sinclair asked.

      ‘This is Silas Drakos AKA The Drake AKA The Count. We believe he is responsible for a high percentage of the drugs that flow through West London. He is also believed to be involved in the buying and selling of some very heavy artillery.’

      ‘Drakos is not our problem.’ Robinson finally broke his silence and a waft of his lunch emanated. ‘Wakefield has to cooperate or we go over her head.’

      Parker carefully eyeballed Robinson. Robinson was exactly the kind of guy that Parker hated. The type that he had reported to throughout his career.

      ‘Wakefield has expressed concern that if they were to pick up Javid Qasim‚ Silas may go to ground.’

      Robinson looked at each face around the table. ‘Somebody care to tell me how a bloody drug baron is taking precedence over national security? I don’t care if he’s Pablo bloody Escobar.’ Robinson jabbed a nicotine stained finger on to the crumpled photograph. ‘Silas Drakos is not a priority!’

      Silence descended. Parker put his hand on his knee before it started to hammer and counted to ten in his head. He took a breath and in a calm measured voice he said‚ ‘There is a way to appease both—’

      ‘Appease?’ Robinson shouted‚ as though he and that word had shared some dark history. He stood up and walked over to the water cooler. ‘Let me tell you something‚ gentlemen‚ we are currently watching eight Muslim clerics‚ in London alone‚ who are openly spreading hate and inciting violence. These clerics attract a big audience‚ and make no mistake that audience is growing by the day. It is clear as crystal what their agenda is‚ but can we kick them out? No‚ we bloody can’t. Because our government and our laws and our policies are in place to bloody appease!’

      Robinson came back to the table‚ his face had reddened and he was slightly out of breath. He drank his water greedily.

      ‘Please‚ Parker‚’ Sinclair said‚ ignoring the outburst. ‘You were saying.’

      ‘We have gathered enough evidence for Javid to be convicted. That evidence falls into the hands of Wakefield. They bring him in and he gives a statement pointing to Silas.’

      Sinclair rubbed his chin as he visualised how this would play out.

      ‘So‚ Silas is arrested and we have Qasim in our pocket‚’ Sinclair clarified. He looked across at Robinson. Robinson hesitantly acquiesced with a gentle nod. ‘Only question now is‚ will Jay play ball? We have him for dealing and assault‚ he’s looking at a short spell inside. Is there a chance that he’ll keep quiet and take the hit?’

      Sinclair turned to Lawrence‚ who looked about ready to burst if he didn’t have his say soon. ‘Lawrence‚ anything you would like to add?’

      Lawrence sat up straight‚ cleared his throat and held strong eye contact.

      ‘Yes‚ sir. We have Javid Qasim’s car in our hold. In the boot of his BMW we found a rucksack containing seven thousand pounds in cash and just under a pound of high-potency skunk weed‚ both of which we believe are the property of Silas Drakos. Regardless of who they belong to‚ the possession charge alone is going see Qasim receive a significant sentence. On top of which‚ it’s reasonable to assume that Drakos would not have been happy that his drugs and money have gone missing – and that’s putting it mildly‚ given his violent reputation. For both of these reasons I think Qasim has no choice but to sing.’

      Sinclair nodded and his eyes momentarily flitted to Parker.

      ‘It was the wrong move‚’ Parker said.

      ‘With all due respect‚ sir‚’ Lawrence continued‚ ‘we have invested a lot of time and manpower scoping Qasim. I saw an opportunity and I took the initiative. And as a result we now have enough on Qasim to mould him as we please. We’d still be watching him now if I hadn’t—’

      ‘You’ve made your point‚ Lawrence‚’ Sinclair said.

      ‘Well I think that shows a lot of enterprise‚’ Robinson piped up‚ happy to recognise a kindred spirit. ‘What did you say your name is?’

      ‘Lawrence‚ sir‚’ he said. ‘Teddy Lawrence.’

      *

      In the corridor outside‚ Sinclair indicated for Parker to hold back as they watched Robinson and Lawrence walk cosily away.

      ‘They may as well hold bloody hands‚’ Sinclair said. He turned and faced Parker. ‘It’s done. You don’t have to say it.’

      ‘Sir?’ Parker said.

      ‘Lawrence… He’s not your responsibility anymore. I’m going to ensure that he is moved somewhere better suited. His enthusiasm may impress some but moving forward we need discipline and a clear line of command.’ Parker nodded as Sinclair continued. ‘Get Wakefield on board‚ she has no reason to decline. Qasim can give her Drakos on a platter… And listen‚ I think we should have first crack at the boy. This whole Drakos subject is a by-product. Qasim has to agree terms with us first. And then – and only then – can he give a statement pointing at Silas. It has to be in that order.’

      ‘Yes‚ sir‚’ Parker agreed.

      ‘Get a couple of our guys to pick him up‚ arrange it so the boys in blue tag along too. But before he sees the inside of that police station… He’s yours.”

      ‘Mine‚ sir?’

      ‘I want you to handle him from here onwards‚ Parker.

      *

      Parker had already decided that he was not going to mention the rucksack or the BMW to Qasim. If he was going to have a relationship with him‚ it was imperative that it was built on trust. Revealing that they had his car and gear would be the wrong move. He was Qasim’s handler; he would handle him how he saw fit.

      Parker needed to freshen up. He walked into the toilet and looked into the mirror. His tired eyes stared back at him. He reached up to his face and touched the pound-coin-shaped gap in his stubble‚ the result of alopecia brought on by stress. The cubicle door opened and Lawrence walked out. Parker dropped his hand from his face. They stood next to each other as Lawrence washed his hands.

      ‘No hard feelings‚ eh?’ Lawrence said‚ through the mirror. ‘I did what I had to do.’

      Parker rolled and cracked his shoulders and turned on the tap.

      ‘You have to admit. Taking his car was the icing on the cake.’

      ‘You went against my order‚’ Parker said quietly as he slowly rolled up his sleeves.

      ‘Not really. You weren’t exactly giving out any orders to go against.’

      ‘Rule number one. Follow orders‚’ Parker said‚ as if rolling out an age-old mantra.

      Lawrence noisily squirted soap onto his hands.

      ‘Still a bit sore about what happened in the meeting?’ Lawrence asked‚ smiling arrogantly. He turned off the tap and shook his hands dry‚ droplets of water splashing Parker. ‘What happened to you? Huh? Where’s this Chalk I keep hearing about? No offense‚ but you walk around looking like you don’t know what day it is.’

      The speed and ferocity with which Parker gripped his right ear dropped Lawrence to one knee. The soft flesh burned and threatened to tear within Parker’s large hand. Lawrence‚ his face scrunched in pain‚ used both hands to try to