Spider Shepherd 11 - White Lies (7 page)

‘For much of that time you’ve worked undercover,’ she said. ‘How have you found the stress?’

Shepherd shrugged. ‘It’s never been a problem.’

‘I’m sure you’ve seen undercover agents who have had problems, over the years,’ she said.

‘Sure.’

‘Alcohol, drugs, sex, pretty much every crutch available gets used at some time or another.’

‘You’re not going to ask me to pee in a cup, are you?’

Stockmann waved her hand. ‘Perish the thought,’ she said. ‘The point I’m trying to make is that you have performed one of the most stressful jobs imaginable for more than ten years. Almost twelve, in fact.’

‘And I still have all my own hair and I’m not smoking crack? Is that what you mean?’

‘Is the stress manifesting itself in any other way perhaps?’

Shepherd shrugged. ‘I sleep like a baby. My blood pressure is as steady as a rock and my appetite is just fine.’

‘Well, that’s good to hear,’ said the psychologist. ‘This latest case you were working on. Any problems?’

‘I was belted over the head by an immigration officer, but other than that it went OK, I guess.’

‘You were undercover quite a long time.’

‘Three months or so. But it was on and off. I wasn’t in character twenty-four-seven.’

‘How do you find long-term operations?’

Shepherd shrugged. ‘It can get boring pretending to be someone else. But no big issues.’

‘You know that a lot of agents who work undercover start taking risks, to spice things up?’ She took a sip of her coffee and Shepherd could feel her assessing his reaction over the top of her mug.

‘I’ve seen it happen,’ he said. ‘Not recently, but when I was with the police undercover unit I worked with a couple of guys who were heading that way.’

‘Specifically?’

‘One had started carrying his warrant card in his wallet. I flipped when I found out. The other started to talk about undercover cops all the time. He’d raise the subject for no reason. It was weird, as if he wanted to draw attention to himself.’

‘You know why, of course?’ she said. She picked up her coffee mug and took a sip.

‘Because they know that lying is wrong and subconsciously they think they deserve to be punished,’ said Shepherd. ‘It’s the same force that drives murderers to confess. Or at least to tell someone what they’ve done.’

‘And you’ve never felt that compulsion?’ asked the psychologist.

‘The sort of work that I do, that’d be tantamount to a death wish,’ said Shepherd. ‘I’m lucky, I seem to be able to compartmentalise things quite easily.’

‘That’s something sociopaths are adept at doing,’ she said. She put her mug down. ‘Just an observation.’

‘I don’t think I’m a sociopath,’ said Shepherd. ‘In fact the big problem I have is that sometimes I find it too easy to empathise.’

‘With the people you’re working against?’

Shepherd nodded. ‘When you’re undercover on a long-term case, you get to know everything there is to know about a person. You get to understand them but sometimes you can grow to like them. That’s the bit you have to control.’

‘Was that a problem with this recent case, the people smugglers?’

‘Not really,’ said Shepherd. He took a slow drink of coffee, using the time to get his thoughts in order. ‘The main guy wasn’t particularly likeable, but he was only in it for the money. And to be honest, at the end of the day, what he was doing wasn’t that bad. He was helping refugees to get into the UK. In some parts of the world he’d be regarded as a hero. The problem was that when we busted him, one of the guys he was working with had several kilos of heroin on him.’

‘Ouch,’ said Stockmann.

‘Exactly. Now he’s facing ten years or so for drug smuggling.’ He forced a smile. ‘Mind you, he was carrying a gun so he really only has himself to blame.’

‘But you think it’s unfair that he’ll be charged with the drugs.’

Shepherd nodded. ‘I guess so.’

‘That’s always been important to you, hasn’t it? A sense of fairness.’

‘Sure. Isn’t that what everyone wants?’

‘It depends on what you mean by fair,’ said Stockmann. ‘Fairness and justice aren’t always the same thing, of course. Back in the bad old days, the police were often as bad as the villains they were chasing. The police would sometimes lie and cheat to get their man, and weren’t averse to getting physical if it meant a confession was forthcoming.’

‘That was well before my time,’ said Shepherd. ‘I’ve always had to do everything by the book.’

‘And is that frustrating sometimes?’ She took another sip of coffee, her eyes watching him closely.

Shepherd smiled at her. She really was a first-class interrogator. Chat, chat, chat, all smiles and chuckles, then suddenly she’d slip in a question that required very careful handling. But if she caught him self-editing then she’d see that as significant, too. ‘Rules have to be followed,’ he said. ‘Short cuts are all well and good, but you wouldn’t want a case thrown out of court because of a legal technicality.’

‘So you never break the rules?’

Shepherd laughed. ‘I know you won’t let me take the Fifth, so let’s just say I might very occasionally bend them.’

‘Because the ends justifies the means?’

‘Because when I’m undercover I have to be flexible. If I wasn’t, I’d stand out straight away.’

‘And I’m guessing that as time goes by, your wriggle room is being continually reduced.’

‘It’s the way of the world, isn’t it? Every year there are more rules and regulations, more paperwork, more boxes to be ticked. Regular policing has become a bureaucratic nightmare but it’s starting to happen at Five, too.’

Stockmann nodded sympathetically. ‘Have you ever heard of Pournelle’s Iron Law of Bureaucracy?’ she asked.

Shepherd shook his head.

‘A writer and journalist by the name of Jerry Pournelle came up with it. It states that in any bureaucratic organisation there will be two kinds of people: on one hand you have those who are devoted to the goals of the organisation. That’s how I always see you, Dan. You believe in what you do, often passionately.’

Shepherd grinned. ‘I can’t argue with that.’

‘But the other sort of people are those who are dedicated to the organisation itself. They’re usually the administrators, the middle management.’

‘Yeah, well, I’ve met my fair share of those,’ agreed Shepherd.

‘Well, the Iron Law states that in every case the second group will gain control of the organisation and will set down the rules that govern the way the organisation acts, and decide who gets promoted within it.’

‘That was SOCA in a nutshell,’ said Shepherd. ‘It was full of middle managers and all they seemed to do was to generate paperwork and hold meetings.’

‘Do you think it applies equally to MI5?’ asked Stockmann.

Shepherd chuckled. ‘Do you expect me to badmouth my employer?’

‘I’m interested in what motivates you,’ said Stockmann. ‘As I said, I think you want to achieve the objectives of the organisation and are less concerned about the organisation itself.’

‘I don’t plan to climb the slippery pole, that’s true,’ said Shepherd. ‘I prefer to stay at the sharp end.’

‘So you’d turn down a promotion if it was offered?’

‘It would depend on the job. I don’t want to be behind a desk. And I’m not sure how good I would be at motivating or managing people.’

‘You were never an officer, in the army?’

‘Never wanted to be,’ said Shepherd. ‘Not that it was ever offered.’

‘But in the SAS, being an officer generally means being away from the sharp end, doesn’t it?’

‘It does in most jobs,’ said Shepherd. ‘Let me ask you something. Am I being sounded out for a promotion here?’

Stockmann laughed. ‘No, I have no ulterior motive here other than finding out what makes you tick. Are you happy with the way that Five functions?’

‘I’ve had no problems with it,’ said Shepherd. ‘There are fewer restrictions than there were with the police, and with SOCA. Generally the people working at Five are there because they believe in what they’re doing.’

The psychologist nodded. ‘I suppose that is the main difference between law enforcement agencies and bureaucratic organisations in general – it’s clear where the moral – and legal – high ground lies. Generally you know who is wearing the white hat and who’s wearing black so there is always a sense that you are doing the right thing.’ She sipped her coffee and smacked her lips appreciatively, then smiled at him as she put her mug down. ‘How’s your boy? Liam?’

‘He’s a teenager,’ said Shepherd. ‘Going through what all teenagers go through.’

‘Those were the days,’ said Stockmann. ‘The spots, the anxieties, the mood swings. He’s at boarding school, still?’

Shepherd nodded. ‘It’s working out well. Lots of sport, he gets on well with his classmates. Best thing for him, especially with me being away so often.’

‘It’s been ten years since his mother died, hasn’t it?’

Shepherd nodded but didn’t say anything. He never felt comfortable talking about Sue.

‘We haven’t really discussed it, have we?’

‘It’s not an issue. For Liam, or for me.’

‘It can cause a lot of problems, a child losing a mother at a young age.’

‘Sue’s parents were very good. And we’ve had Katra for many years. She’s sort of become a mother figure for Liam.’

‘The au pair?’

‘She was hired as an au pair but she’s one of the family now.’ The kitchen door opened. Shepherd grinned. ‘Speak of the devil.’

They heard the sound of laden carrier bags being dumped on the kitchen table and then footsteps in the hallway. She appeared at the door, wearing a long leather jacket over tight blue jeans and purple Ugg boots. She had tied her dark brown hair back into a ponytail.

‘Sorry, I didn’t know you were expecting a guest,’ she said. ‘Do you want something to eat? Sandwiches? Coffee?’ There was the faintest of Slovenian accents but she sounded more Australian than East European after years of watching Australian soap operas.

‘We’re fine, thanks,’ said Shepherd.

‘I got lamb chops for tonight.’

‘Excellent.’ He gestured at Stockmann. ‘This is a friend from work, Caroline.’

Katra flashed her a smile. ‘Pleased to meet you.’

‘And you,’ said Stockmann. ‘Dan tells me what a great help you are.’

Katra’s smile widened, then she gave Shepherd a small wave and went back to the kitchen. Shepherd turned to see Stockmann was smiling at him. ‘What?’ he said.

‘She’s very pretty.’

Shepherd pulled a face. ‘I hadn’t noticed.’

Stockmann raised an eyebrow.

‘Seriously, she’s like a member of the family.’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t know what you want me to say.’

Stockmann chuckled softly. ‘Dan, I was simply pointing out how pretty she is.’

‘You think I’m being defensive?’

‘Now don’t you go putting words into my mouth,’ she said. ‘But I wouldn’t mind exploring the fact that you never remarried.’

‘I haven’t met the right person yet.’

‘So you are looking?’

‘Not actively, no. I haven’t joined “find me a new wife
dot.com
” if that’s what you’re implying.’ He threw up his hands and immediately regretted it because he knew how good Stockmann was at reading body language. ‘I’m not sure how relevant my personal situation is.’

‘Generally I’m interested because the nature of undercover work is such that it can impinge on the family. As you’re no doubt aware, the job has a much higher divorce rate than average.’

‘So maybe it’s a plus that I don’t have a wife.’

‘That’s one way of looking at it,’ said the psychologist. ‘The other way is that a secure family life can be an asset. It can bring some stability to what is a very unsettling career.’

‘Most undercover agents I know are single or divorced,’ said Shepherd.

‘True,’ said Stockmann. ‘But not many work undercover for more than a decade.’

‘Caroline, what are you getting at?’

‘I’m not getting at anything. I’m just getting a feel for your situation. That’s what these biannuals are all about. Assessment.’ She sipped her coffee. ‘You don’t feel lonely?’

‘Lonely? Are you serious?’

‘You’re a single man in a line of business that doesn’t lend itself to forming stable relationships.’

‘I’ve got friends.’ Stockmann smiled but didn’t say anything. ‘You mean girlfriends?’ The psychologist continued to stay quiet, but her smile widened.

Shepherd shook his head. ‘Caroline, I’m not a monk. I do have my moments, it’s just that I don’t shout it from the rooftops.’

‘That’s good to know. Look, don’t read too much into what I’m asking. I just want to make sure that you’re socialising outside work, because when you’re working more often than not you’re not yourself. You need time to be Dan Shepherd among regular people.’

Shepherd pulled a pained face. ‘There’s a problem with that, of course. I work for MI5, and that fact can’t be public knowledge. So any relationship I have with anyone has to be based on a lie.’

‘True,’ said the psychologist.

‘That’s the problem, and always will be. No matter who I meet, one of the first things that comes out of my mouth is a lie, and there’s no taking that back.’

‘What do you tell people, civilians?’

‘That I work for the Home Office. Boring administrative stuff.’

‘And they buy that? With your physique?’

Shepherd laughed. ‘My physique?’

‘You don’t look like a man who spends his day driving a desk,’ said Stockmann. ‘That’s what I meant.’

‘I tell them I run, which is true.’

‘You still do that thing with the rucksack of telephone directories?’

‘Bricks,’ he said. ‘Wrapped in bubble wrap. Do they still make telephone directories?’

Stockmann laughed. ‘You’re right. It wouldn’t be the same with a couple of CDs, would it.’ She sighed. ‘I should exercise more,’ she said. ‘My blood pressure is creeping up. Ditto my blood sugar levels. But you’re disgustingly healthy, I gather.’

Shepherd smiled, noting that she had obviously seen his last medical.

‘So, I think I’ve pretty much run out of questions.’

‘And I’m good?’

‘I wish everyone I saw was as well balanced as you, Dan.’ She bent down, picked up her briefcase and put away her notepad. She looked at her watch. ‘Is there any way you could run me back to the station, there’s a train to London in half an hour.’