DI Sean Corrigan Crime Series: 6-Book Collection: Cold Killing, Redemption of the Dead, The Keeper, The Network, The Toy Taker and The Jackdaw. Luke Delaney
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‘There is no point in having a small, separate class of the super-wealthy if the rest of society is reduced to a disillusioned underclass of the jealous, living their lives without hope or aspiration. In my heart I’m a socialist, but I believe all men and women should be equally wealthy, not equally poor. However, no government can ever achieve this. Their hands are tied by four-yearly elections and the need for short-term success. To build a society of the future worth living in takes time. It takes decades, not four years, which is why we must accept responsibility for things that have been too long left for the government to control. We should be financing the building of private but affordable schools. And in those schools we should be educating children who want to learn in environments free of disorder and dysfunction.’
Gibran paused to allow applause as Hellier looked around at the audience, who were warming to Gibran’s rhetoric.
‘And we should finance the building of affordable private community hospitals, where those who are sick and injured through no fault of their own can receive immediate and expert care, unhindered by the need to treat smokers, drinkers and the obese. And we should finance the building of private housing estates with their own private police, paid to protect the families and homes of those who live on them. Areas that will be safe from rioters and looters. And eventually everyone will want this better way of life. They will no longer be prepared to send their children to failing schools or their elderly relatives to failing hospitals. And through the ethical use of profits, insurance and payment protection, the public sector and the billions it sucks up and wastes will become obsolete. Through finance, the private sector will succeed where every government to date has failed.’
Applause erupted in the room, making Hellier laugh inwardly at how expertly Gibran had played them. But his mood soon began to darken as he realized he was witnessing the birth of Gibran as a worthy adversary; a dangerous adversary. So now he had two: Corrigan and Gibran. But which one should he be most cautious of? At least Corrigan was obvious and predictable, the raging bull who would keep coming straight at him until he was defeated or victorious. But Gibran was the snake in the grass, waiting to strike. He was the shark that swam below a calm sea, waiting until he smelled blood in the water. Hellier would respect the threats they represented, but he would never fear them. He watched as Gibran’s speech drew to a close.
‘However,’ Gibran warned his audience, ‘such ambitions can only be achieved in a new climate of competitive cooperation. Clearly, we cannot be seen to be forming cartels, but true progress cannot be achieved by individual businesses working towards individual goals. Cooperation is the key; but remember, we can only ever be as strong as our weakest link.’
Gibran’s eyes suddenly looked through the crowd and came to rest on Hellier, who felt them burning into his skin as if Gibran was publicly branding him a liability. Hellier resisted the temptation to smile: Gibran might think he was smart, but he’d just showed Hellier his hand. No matter what happened next, Hellier would be ready for him. When the time came, he would be ready.
13
I had to wait so very long before finding him. I searched and searched for years, then finally, it was he who found me. He simply walked into my life one day. Surely he had been sent to me, a gift from Nature herself.
His eyes betrayed him. Immediately I knew he and I were alike. We were the same animal. There was no mistake. He had hidden his nature well, his façade of normality would deceive anybody. Anybody but me, that is. But when he looked at me he saw nothing. I could see the contempt he had for me, the same as he had for everybody else. My disguise even hid me from my own kind. Now all I had to do was wait a little while longer. A year or two. Then I could begin.
My favourite film is West Side Story. Why? Because of the violence. It’s pure and total violence. The dancing is violent. The music is violent. The scenery is violent, so is the red sun that washes over the city in every scene. The film’s a statement about the dominance of violence over every other aspect of life. Romeo and Juliet. Violence defeats love. Violence is the only truth.
I understand this. You do not. You hide from violence. Cower in its presence. You damn it as the scourge of modern life. Punish your youth for being violent. Try to ban it from your television. Try to stop it at your football matches. Your government spends billions of pounds every year trying to remove violence from society.
But violence is life. Without violence there would be no life. Violence is the driving force that is life. It represents the ultimate beauty of life.
Evolution is violent. Species evolve through violent competition. The strong kill the weak and so the species develops. Without violence we would still be living in trees. No. Less than that. We would still be single-cell organisms. And yet you treat violence as your enemy, when it is your greatest ally.
I understand violence. I embrace it. I harness it. Through violence I am evolving into something beyond imagination.
14
Tuesday morning
Early morning and Sean was already at his desk. The office was growing increasingly active as the detectives drifted into work. A knock at his open door made him glance up. Superintendent Featherstone waited to be invited in.
‘Boss,’ Sean acknowledged. ‘How’s it going?’
Featherstone held two takeaway coffees. He placed one in front of Sean then sat down. ‘Never known a DI turn down a free coffee.’
‘Thanks,’ said Sean. As he lifted the drink, he realized why Featherstone was there. Sean hadn’t consulted with him prior to arresting Hellier. Technically, he should have. ‘While you’re here, there are a few things I need to update you on.’
‘You don’t say,’ Featherstone said. ‘Such as the arrest of a suspect, maybe?’
‘Amongst other things …’
‘An arrest I learned about from the television.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Sean. ‘That shouldn’t have happened, and it won’t happen again.’
‘I know things can get a bit manic at times,’ Featherstone said, ‘but I’m here to keep those that would otherwise interfere off your back so you can do what you have to do. I can’t do that if I don’t know what’s going on. In future, make a quick call. Okay?’
‘Of course,’ Sean agreed. Featherstone was as good a senior officer as Sean could hope for and he knew it. He needed to keep him onside.
‘This James Hellier character,’ Featherstone asked. ‘You sure he’s our man?’
‘As sure as I can be, but that means nothing without some usable evidence.’
‘If there’s evidence to find, then you’ll find it. Whatever course of action you decide to take will get my backing.’
‘Appreciated.’
Featherstone stood to leave. ‘By the way, this Hellier − he sounds like the sort of man who may have connections, if you understand my meaning.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind, guv. Before you go, are you still able to front a media appeal for me?’
‘You should do it yourself,’ Featherstone answered. ‘It would do you no harm to increase your public profile. If you ever want to go for your chief inspector’s, it’s the sort of bollocks they love to see on your CV.’
‘Not really my thing,’ Sean demurred.
‘Your call. So, what do you have in mind?’
‘I think it’s time we did a press conference. I’ll arrange it and let you know where and when.’
‘I’ll be there,’ Featherstone replied without enthusiasm. ‘We’ll speak soon.’
Hellier listened to Sebastian Gibran drone on from the other side of an obscenely wide