Detective Inspector Clyde Taylor had spent eight years in the Police Integrity Unit chasing dirty cops. Most were breathtakingly stupid, risking their careers and reputations for a blow-job, a free meal or a few extra bucks they lost on the pokies anyway. Though Taylor was no shrink, he sometimes wondered if, deep down, they wanted to get caught.
However, he suspected there were a few crooked cops who made big money and were seldom detected. They were like big sharks cruising the ocean depths, trawling for hidden prey, rarely glimpsed.
He recently sighted one of those sharks when a drug dealer called Renato Tomasis was arrested for heroin possession. Facing a long stretch, Tomasis coughed to the PIU that he sold drugs for Detective Sergeant Brian Pringle.
Taylor wanted to charge Pringle with corruption. But Tomasis was a convicted felon whose evidence was worthless. That meant Taylor's investigation would probably go nowhere.
Still, Taylor was obliged to interview Pringle about the allegations. When he did, he'd try to scare Pringle into confessing and rolling over on other dirty cops, though it was highly unlikely a tough bastard like Pringle would buckle. Probably just laugh. Then Taylor would close his investigation and watch the bastard slide back into the murky depths.
Taylor had agreed to meet Pringle at Police Headquarters next to Hyde Park. When Taylor stepped into the interview room, Pringle was already seated, wearing a half-smile. What was so funny?
Taylor said: "Good morning, Detective Sergeant."
Pringle's grin expanded. "Morning, Sir."
Taylor sat opposite and reached out to turn on the recording machine. To his surprise, Pringle reached out and grabbed his wrist.