The Complaints

Breck gave a shrug. ‘I get the feeling you need to trust someone.’

Fox rubbed a finger across his forehead. He’d spent the past hour and a half thinking much the same thing. ‘Maybe I’ll have that drink,’ he said, playing for time. ‘Water will do.’

Breck was already on his feet and heading out of the room. Fox looked around, barely taking his surroundings in. It had been a long day. Dearborn and Broughton, Stoddart and Gilchrist… Breck was coming back with the tumbler. Fox accepted it with a nod. His stomach felt full of acid. His eyes stung when he blinked and there was a persistent throbbing at his temples.

‘Do you need an aspirin or something?’ Breck was asking. Fox shook his head. ‘You look shattered. I’m guessing not all of it courtesy of Inspector Stoddart.’

‘There’s something I’m going to tell you,’ Fox blurted out. ‘But I’m not sure how you’re going to take it.’

Breck hadn’t quite sat down. Instead, he rested his weight against the arm of his chair. ‘In your own time,’ he coaxed.

Fox took another sip. The water had a slightly sweet aftertaste, reminding him of the way tap water had tasted in his childhood, on a hot day after ru

‘You’ve been under investigation,’ he stated, avoiding eye contact. ‘Up to and including surveillance.’

Breck thought for a few seconds, then nodded slowly. ‘That van?’ he said. ‘Yes, I sort of knew about that. And about you, too, of course.’ The two men fixed eyes. ‘You seemed to know a bit too much about me, Malcolm. Remember when I told you my brother was gay? You said you didn’t know, but that meant you knew I had a brother in the first place. Then when you came round here, you couldn’t really explain how you knew my street.’ He paused. ‘I was hoping you might eventually get round to saying something. ’

‘And here I am…’

‘I thought maybe you were trying to tie me to Glen Heaton.’

‘We weren’t.’

‘What then?’ Breck sounded genuinely curious.

‘Your name appeared on a list, Jamie. Subscribers to a website…’

‘What sort of website?’

Fox angled his head so he was staring at the ceiling. ‘I shouldn’t be doing this,’ he muttered.

‘Bit late for that,’ Breck told him. Then: ‘What sort of website…?’

‘Not the sort you’d want A

‘Porn?’ Breck’s voice had risen a little. ‘S and M? Snuff…?’

‘Underage.’

Breck was silent for a moment, until a laugh of incredulity exploded from his mouth.

‘You paid by credit card,’ Fox went on. ‘So CEOP had us run a check.’

‘When did all this start?’

‘Begi

Breck had slid from the arm of the chair into the seat itself. ‘My credit card?’ he asked. Then he sprang up and left the room, returning a minute later with a folder. He held it over the coffee table and tipped out its contents, crouching down to sift through everything. There were bank statements, receipts, mortgage letters and credit card statements. Fox couldn’t help noting that Breck’s savings account was well into five figures. Breck himself was plucking out the credit card statements.

‘Australian dollars, most likely,’ Fox explained.

‘There’s nothing here…’ Breck was ru

‘Wait a second,’ he said. The tip of his finger was ru

Fox looked at the description. ‘SEIL Ents,’ he read.

‘I never paid any attention…’ Breck was almost talking to himself. ‘Sometimes I buy downloads from the States… Is this it, do you think?’

‘Have you bought anything else in dollars recently? This goes back five weeks.’

‘I swear to God, Malcolm…’ Breck was wide-eyed. He broke off from staring at the sheet of paper and got back to his feet. ‘Come on, there’s something I want to show you.’ He left the room, Fox following him. They entered what would have been the home’s second bedroom. This was Breck’s office. The computer was switched on, the screen-saver active. Breck nudged the mouse. His chosen wallpaper was a head-and-shoulders photo of A

‘Sit down,’ he was commanding Fox, indicating the swivel chair. ‘Take a look for yourself. I doubt I’ve browsed online porn more than half a dozen times in my life – and never anything… I mean, just the normal stuff.’

‘Look, Jamie…’

Breck spun around to face him. ‘I don’t know anything about this!’ he shouted.

‘I believe you,’ Fox said quietly.

Breck stared at him. ‘Right, because you had that van parked outside…’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘You were tapped into my system somehow… No, not you, not you personally… you were with me at the Oliver that night. Some of your guys, right? And someone from CEOP, too.’

‘His name’s Gilchrist. He’s got his feet under my desk at the Complaints.’

Breck’s eyes narrowed as he digested this. ‘We’ve got to talk to him, find out how this could have happened.’

Fox nodded slowly. ‘I had a word with him earlier on, but he wasn’t exactly cooperating.’

‘I need to talk to someone about this,’ Breck was saying. Then, eyes boring into Fox: ‘All the time we’ve been… and I let you… and you thought I was a paedophile?’

Fox couldn’t think of anything to say to this. Breck had taken a couple of steps towards the window and was peering around the edge of the blind.

‘It was just the one night,’ Fox explained. ‘We were pla

Breck turned to look at him. ‘Why?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘They realised it was a mistake?’

Fox offered a shrug. Breck ran his hand through his hair again. ‘This is a fucking nightmare,’ he said. ‘You’ve met A

‘Sometimes they do.’

‘Paedophiles, you mean?’ Fox could see that Breck’s mind was racing. ‘You had a van watching me! It’s like the Gestapo or something. ’

‘One thing the equipment in the van picked up…’

Breck looked at him. ‘What?’

‘You did some online digging into me.’

Breck thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. ‘That’s true,’ he said. Then he fell silent, staring at the computer screen. ‘What’s the site called?’ he eventually asked. ‘We’ve got to contact them, find out how it happened.’

‘That’s the last thing you want to do,’ Fox cautioned.

‘They got my credit card number – how is that possible?’

‘It’s possible,’ Fox argued. ‘You’ve said it yourself – you buy stuff online. Do you pay a subscription to Quidnunc? Because if you do, your card details are out there…’

‘This is a nightmare,’ Breck repeated, staring blindly at the walls around him. ‘I need a drink…’ He fled the room, leaving Fox standing there. Fox waited a moment, then scrutinised the icons on the computer screen. He saw nothing out of the ordinary. Quidnunc had been minimised, and he put it back on to full screen. Breck’s avatar seemed to be a muscular blond warrior toting a complicated-looking handgun. He was standing in a valley surrounded by mountains, beyond which explosions were going off, fighter jets or spaceships occasionally flying over. His hair fluttered in the breeze, but otherwise he would stand there until Breck came back to the game. Fox hit the ‘minimise’ icon again and left the room.

Jamie Breck was in his kitchen. It was spotless, but Fox had the feeling the place got used. There was a fruit bowl filled with oranges and plums, and a breadboard with half a wholemeal loaf sitting on it. Breck had brought ice cubes from the freezer and was pouring whisky over them.

‘There are occasions,’ he said, voice trembling slightly, ‘when only local remedies will do.’ He waved the bottle in Fox’s direction, but Fox shook his head. It was Highland Park: he’d tried it plenty of times in the past. Soft peat and sea spray… Breck downed half the drink without pausing. He squeezed shut his eyes and opened his mouth in a loud exhalation. Fox’s nostrils flared. Yes, that was the tang he remembered…