it's all drugs.”
“And what sort of drug dealer do you think you'd make?”
Warren frowned. It wasn't a question he'd ever considered.
“Probably quite a good one.”
“Because?”
“Because I'm not stupid any more. Because now I'm better educated than the average villain. I've a knowledge of criminal law and police procedure that most villains don't have. And to be quite honest, I consider I'm a hell of a lot smarter than most of the police officers I've come across.”
“I don't suppose you were that blunt at your interviews,” said Latham.
“I think we've moved beyond my being interviewed, sir. Whatever it is you want from me, it's not dependent on my being politically correct. I'm not going to Hendon, am I?”
“Not today, no,” said Latham, 'but this isn't about stopping you becoming a police officer, Warren, I can promise you that. You scored highly on all counts during the selection procedure, you're exactly the sort of material we want." Latham pulled on his right ear, then scratched the lobe.
Tango One
“The question is, exactly how would you be able to serve us best?”
Warren's forehead creased into a frown, but he didn't say anything.
“You see, Warren, putting you in a uniform and having you walk a beat might make for good public relations, but realistically it's going to make precious little difference to the crime figures.” Latham took a deep breath, held it, then exhaled slowly.
“What we'd like, Warren, is for you to consider becoming an undercover agent for us. Deep undercover. So deep, in fact, that hardly anyone will know that you work for the Met.”
Warren's eyes narrowed.
“You're asking me to pretend to be a criminal?”
Latham shook his head.
“No, I'm asking you to become a criminal. To cross the line.”
“To be a grass?”
“No, you'll still be a police officer. A grass is a criminal who provides information on other criminals. You'll be a fully functioning police officer who will be keeping us informed of the activities of the criminals you come across.”
“But I won't wear a uniform, I won't go to Hendon? No probationary period?”
“You'll never pound a beat. And the only time you'll go anywhere near a police station is if you get arrested. The number of people who'll know that you are a serving police officer will be counted on the fingers of one hand.”
“For how long?”
“For as long as you can take it. Hopefully years. Ideally, you'll spend your whole career undercover.”
Warren ran his hand over his black hair, closely cropped only two days earlier in anticipation of his new career.
“So I'd be a police officer, but undercover? I'd never be in uniform?”
“That would be the intention, yes.”
“If I'm not going to Hendon, how would I be trained?”
“You wouldn't,” said Latham.
“That's the whole point. We don't want you tainted.”
Tainted?"
“At present undercover operatives are drawn from the ranks,” said Latham.
“We spend years training them to be policemen, then we send them undercover and expect them to act like criminals. It's no wonder it doesn't work. Doesn't matter how long they grow their hair or how they try to blend, they're still policemen acting as criminals. We don't want you to put on an act, Warren. We want you to become a criminal. You already have the perfect cover you have a criminal record. We want you to build on that.”
“I can break the law? Is that what you're saying?”
For the first time Latham looked uncomfortable.
“That's not a conversation we should be having,” he said, adjusting his cuffs.
“That'll come later with your handler. I'm here to ask you to take on this assignment. I have a high profile: you know that if you have my word that the Met is behind you one hundred per cent, then you're not going to be left hanging in the wind down the line, if that's not mixing too many metaphors.”
“And if I refuse?”
Latham grimaced.
“As I've already said, you'll be an asset to