Blue Genes - By Val McDermid Page 0,80

own team this week, I never gave it a thought. But Alien and Sargent's arrest gives me the perfect excuse to get a search warrant on Sell Phones. Thanks for the thought," Delia said, looking slightly embarrassed that she hadn't worked it out for herself. I knew just how she felt; I've been there too many times myself.

"No problem. However, I don't think you're going to be quite as thrilled about today's bulletin, somehow."

"Come on, get it over with. It can't be as bad as all that. The only news that deserves a face like yours is that Josh is a serial killer."

"What about a bent DI?" I said gloomily.

The smile vanished from Delia's eyes. "I don't have to ask if you're sure, do I?"

"It's possible somebody's setting me up, but I don't think so. It fits the facts too well."

Delia's mouth tightened into a grim line and she looked past me into the middle distance. "I absolutely hate cor¬rupt police officers," she said bitterly. "They've always got some pathetic piece of self-justification, and it never ever justifies the damage they do. So, who are we talking about here? Just tell me it's not one of mine."

"It really isn't one of yours," I said, knowing it was pretty bleak as reassurances go. "It's a DI in Vice. Peter Lovell? Heard of him?"

Delia's answer had to wait. Rasul came through to the fridge for another tray of sliced ham. "All right?" he asked cheerfully, far too polite to indicate that the expressions on our faces showed the exact opposite.

"Fine," we chorused.

When he'd left, Delia said, "I know who you mean. I've never had anything to do with him directly, never met him socially, but I have heard the name. He's supposed to be a good copper. High body count, keeps his patch clean. What's the story?"

"I'm not too sure of the exact wording on the charge sheet, but it goes something like threatening behavior, assault, illegal possession of firearms, conspiracy, incite¬ment to cause an affray, obtaining money with menaces, improper use of police resources.... Oh, and illegal bill posting."

"If I didn't know you better, I'd say you were winding me up," Delia said wearily. She looked at her half-eaten sandwich. "I just lost my appetite." She was about to bin it, but I stopped her. For some reason, I was ravenous this morning. I had the last mouthful of my paratha and started on her leftovers. Ignoring every environmental health regulation from Brussels to Baltimore, Delia pulled out her cigarettes and Zippo and sucked on a Silk Cut. "Details, then," she said.

Lal stuck his head around the door into the shop. "Can you crack the window if you're smoking, Del?" he asked. I was astonished. I'd never heard anyone contract Delia's name and live. Not only did she ignore his liberty-taking, she even opened the door a couple of inches. Either Delia was in a state of shock or there was something going on between her and Lal that I knew nothing about.

"It all started when Richard came home with Dan Druff and the Scabby Heided Bairns," I began. By the time I'd finished, Delia looked as if she was about to have a second close encounter with the half sandwich she'd already eaten. "So right now, Lovell's winning," I finished up. "He's got the muscle to get what he wants, and the gangsters can't beat him the usual way because every time they make a move, their shock troops end up behind bars."

"I can't believe he'd be so stupid," she said. "He must be looking at having his thirty in when he retires. That's a good pension, and he's young enough to pull something decent in private security. And he's risking the lot."

I helped myself to a Kit Kat from an open box on a shelf behind me. "He's risking a hell of a lot more than that," I pointed out as I stripped the wrapper off. "He's risking his life. The people he's dealing with can't afford to lose that much face. If the normal ways of warning someone off aren't working with Lovell, somebody is going to shell out the requisite five grand."

"And then there will be a war. It doesn't matter how bent a bobby is. When he's dead, he's a hero. And when we lose one of our own, the police service doesn't stop till somebody has paid the price."

"I think they realize that," I said quietly. "They'll have to be desperate before they go for