gap in the curtains at the sea of gold-trimmed navy blazers, Sergeant Longbright saw that the auditorium was now entirely filled with pupils. ‘It’s a very well-heeled audience, Arthur,’ she reported back. ‘Boys only, that can’t be very healthy. All between the ages of fifteen and seventeen. I don’t imagine they’ll be much interested in crime prevention. You’ll have to find a way of reaching them.’
‘Teenagers are suspicious of anyone over twenty,’ Bryant admitted, brushing tobacco strands from his lapel, ‘so how will they feel about me? I thought there were going to be more adults here. Teenagers can smell lies, you know. Their warning flags unfurl at the slightest provocation. A hint of condescension and they bob up like meerkats. Contrary to popular belief, they’re more naturally astute than so-called grown-ups. The whole of one’s adult life is a gradual process of dulling the sense, Janice. Look how young we all were when we started at the PCU, little more than children ourselves. But we were firing on all synapses, awake to the world.’
Longbright brushed his shoulders with maternal propriety. ‘Raymond Land says the sensitive are incapable of action. He reckons we need more thick-skinned recruits.’
‘Which is why our acting chief would be better employed in parking control, or some public service which you could train a moderately attentive bottle-nosed dolphin to perform.’ Bryant had little patience with those who frowned on his abstract methods. Critics offered him nothing. They made the most senior detective of London’s Peculiar Crimes Unit as irritable as a wasp in a bottle and as stubborn as a doorstop.
‘The school magazine is out there waiting to take your picture. They’ve seen you on TV, don’t forget. You’re a bit of a celebrity these days. Show me how you look.’ Longbright jerked his tie a little straighter and pulled his sleeves to length. ‘Good enough, I suppose, I need photographic evidence of you in a suit, even though it’s thirty years old. Make sure you stick to Raymond’s brief and talk about the specifics of crime prevention. Don’t forget the CAPO initiative—we have to reach them while they’re in the highest risk category.’ Seventeen-year-olds were more likely to become victims of street crime than any other population segment. Their complex pattern of allegiance to different urban tribes was more confusing than French court etiquette—territorial invasion, lack of respect, the wrong clothes, the wrong ethnicity, attitudes exaggerated by hormones, chemistry, geography and simple bad timing.
‘My notes are a little more abstract than Raymond might wish,’ Bryant warned.
Longbright threw him a hopeless look. ‘I thought he vetted your script.’
‘I meant to run it by him last night, but I’d promised to drive Alma to her sister’s in Tooting. She fell off her doorstep while she was red-leading it, and needed a bread poultice for her knee.’
‘Surely the head of the department ranks above your landlady.’
‘Not in terms of intelligence, I assure you.’
‘You should have shown Raymond what you’re planning to say, Arthur. You know how concerned he is about the media attention we’ve been receiving.’
The PCU had recently been the subject of a television documentary, and not all of the press articles following in its wake had been complimentary.
‘I couldn’t stick to Raymond’s guidelines on the history of crime-fighting because I don’t want to talk down to my audience. They’re supposed to be smart kids, the top five percent of the education system. I don’t want them to get fidgety.’
‘Just fix them with the angry stare of yours. Go on—everyone’s waiting for you.’
The elderly detective took an unsteady step forward, then balked. He could feel a cold wall of expectancy emanating from the crowded auditorium. The hum of audience conversation parried his determination, stranding him at the edge of the stage.
‘What’s the matter now?’ demanded Longbright, exasperated.
‘No one in our family was good with the young,’ Bryant wavered. ‘When I was little, my father tried to light a cigarette while holding me and a pint of bitter, and burned the top of my head. All of our childhood problems were sorted out with a clout round the ear. It’s a wonder I can name the kings of England.’
‘Don’t view them as youngsters, Arthur, they’re at the age when they think they know everything, so talk to them as if they do. The head teacher has already introduced you. They’ll start slow handclapping if you don’t get out there.’ It occurred to her that because Bryant had attended a lowly state school in Whitechapel, he might actually be