Broken Homes

down or not?’
    ‘I’ve given up trying to work out what the council’s doing at Skygarden,’ said Daverc. ‘I know they want to flatten it and turn it over to the developers in return for some new build – they had all the plans on show and we was even doing our preliminary impact studies and then it all seemed to fizzle out.’
    ‘Have you got any contacts in the tower?’ I asked.
    ‘I go up there regular,’ he said. ‘I have my community liaisons who bend my ear about kids nicking stuff and people weeing in the lifts.’ He paused and narrowed his eyes. ‘If you want to know what’s going on in the tower, guy like you, your best bet would be to move in yourself.’
    ‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I’ve heard flats aren’t that easy to get.’
    ‘I’ve got access to one,’ said Daverc. ‘I set it up for DAFT so they could get someone on the inside – they were going to share their intelligence with me – only Richard Dewsbury keels over and DAFT lost interest. Say the word and I can get you in there in less than twenty-four hours.’ He paused to give me another shrewd look.
    ‘If you’re interested.’
    There’s two approaches to dealing with large bureaucracies. Well, technically there’s three but the last one is only available to officers of ACPO rank and people who went to the right school. On the one hand you can phone ahead, explain that you’re the police, give a quick and largely inaccurate summary of your investigation and make an appointment to see the relevant supervisor stroke line manager. Or, if you’re in a hurry, you can flash your warrant card at the security guards, fast talk your way past the reception and see how far up the hierarchy some classic cockney bullshit will take you.
    In this case it took me through the fiercely rectangular and marble-lined atrium at Southwark Town Hall via Grace on the front desk – it turned out that, while we weren’t related to each other, we definitely had family in the same part of Freetown – into the lifts and before anyone could say ‘Hey you what are you doing here?’ into the work area of one Louise Talacre who was employed in the same office as the late Richard Lewis.
    She was a ridiculously cheerful young woman with Italian looks and a Midlands accent who was happy to help the police in any way she could – you’d be surprised how many people are.
    She was familiar with the Skygarden redevelopment and knew that Richard had been particularly involved in trying to get the estate unlisted.
    ‘He said it shouldn’t even have been listed in the first place,’ she said but someone – Louise always thought Richard might know who, although he never said – had swung a Grade II so that it wouldn’t be pulled down in the late 80s. The council had to spend millions on refurbishment and remedial repairs and resented every penny.
    ‘They put in a concierge system and everything,’ said Louise in a horrified tone. ‘But you still hear stories about what went on in that tower.’
    ‘Really?’ I asked.
    ‘I heard there was a bunch of New Age druids squatting in one of the blocks and worshipping the trees,’ she said.
    Druids, I thought. I asked for that one.
    ‘But he never got the tower unlisted, though?’
    ‘He wasn’t happy about that,’ she said. ‘But he didn’t seem happy about anything towards the end. I told your lot that the first time they came round.’ That would have been the BTP investigation. Jaget’s people. ‘Not that I thought he would . . . you know . . .’
    Now Lesley may contend that I am, occasionally, lacking in the police work department but even I can spot a lead when a witness waves it in front of my face.
    ‘Did he seem like he was under pressure?’ I asked.
    ‘Well, we’re all under pressure aren’t we,’ said Louise. ‘What with the cuts and everything.’
    I explained that I meant outside pressure – say from unscrupulous developers and the like.
    ‘Don’t be silly,’ she said. ‘They never bother with the likes of us. They always go for the CEOs or the councillors.’ She pulled a face. ‘We never get no baksheesh. Still, you know, now you mention it, there . . . no, that sounds stupid.’
    ‘What does?’
    ‘About a year ago when we thought the tower was going to be delisted or unlisted or whatever they call it,’ said Louise. ‘He came in all happy and smiling and of course I asked him what he was so happy about and he said that he was soon going out of this