Dead Eyed Read Free

his expression passive as he scanned the photos.
    ‘And?’ he said.
    ‘I hoped I would have been informed if anything came in on this,’ said Lambert.
    Tillman sat, his breathing heavy. A blue striped tie bulged rhythmically against his thick neck. ‘You don’t work for us at the moment, Michael.’
    ‘This relates directly to me, sir. It would have been a courtesy.’
    Tillman studied the photos again. ‘This goes back to your University days, doesn’t it? I remember it from your file. What did the press call him, the Souljacker or something?’ He put the file down. ‘Look, this is the first I’ve heard of it. It must be with the local CID. It’s not something that would come our way, you know that.’
    ‘I want access,’ said Lambert.
    Tillman smirked. ‘There’s no access, Michael. If you’re not working for us then no way.’
    ‘Employ me then. Private contract.’
    ‘We don’t do that any more. We’re part of the NCA now. Sort of,’ he said, as an afterthought. The National Crime Agency had replaced SOCA, the Serious Organised Crime Agency, the previous year.
    ‘Right,’ said Lambert. Lambert had been working for SOCA when Tillman had recruited him. They’d previously worked together when Lambert had first joined CID. Tillman had been his first DI.
    Tillman now headed a department known simply as The Group. It was a cross alliance with military intelligence. There had been five others in Lambert’s team. Aside from Tillman, The Group comprised one DI and one DS from the MET, and two operatives from MI5. For the first time in his career, Lambert had signed the Official Secrets Act for work and received a security clearance level. Lambert had long suspected that there were a number of similar groups working independent from Tillman’s collective.
    ‘Look, sir. I don’t want to push this but I need access.’ He was taking a calculated risk speaking to his superior this way. It was not beyond Tillman to tell him where to go, to leave him in the room for twenty-four hours to dwell on his insolence.
    Tillman lifted his hand to his face. ‘You’re calling it in?’
    Tillman didn’t really owe him anything, but his superior didn’t see it that way. Lambert had protected him once and still held potentially incriminating evidence on the man. He would never betray Tillman, but Tillman was honour bound to repay the favour. ‘I don’t want it to be like that, but if it has to be that way.’
    Tillman rubbed his left temple, a familiar gesture Lambert had seen countless times before. ‘I will say you stole the access codes if it ever comes to light.’
    ‘I realise that.’
    ‘Then we’re done, Michael. Unless you come back to us, it will be the last time you have access to The System.’
    ‘Thank you, sir,’ said Lambert, getting to his feet.
    ‘I will email you the access codes within the next two hours. Any work you do on this Souljacker business is yours alone. Make no records. Understand?’
    ‘Sir.’
    Tillman left the room without acknowledging him.
    Lambert thanked the receptionist as he left the building. He doubted the man had any idea who he was, or who Tillman was for that matter. Lambert savoured the fresh air once outside, buoyed by the meeting. He’d thought he’d have to argue his case for access to The System but Tillman had given in almost immediately. He’d even given a suggestion of Lambert returning to work for him in the future.
    The access codes arrived two hours later. Lambert was back at his desk in his home office, a three-storey Edwardian house in Beckenham, Kent, which bordered south-east London. Before him, information scrolled across six computer monitors. It had been a long time since he’d last activated them.
    The System had been the reason Lambert had signed the OSA. As far as he was aware, only a handful of people outside The Group knew of its existence. The System was an amalgamation of existing computer systems and databases, as well as something else