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‘We’re transferring him to Birchin Way Custody Facility.’
‘Custody?’
‘Border Force want to interview him. After that we hand him over to social services.’
‘When?’
‘Tonight, if they can find him a place.’
‘I want to help.’
‘In what way?’
‘I can review the evidence and give you a different perspective . . . be a fresh set of eyes.’
These arguments seem to land awkwardly. I can picture Carlson asking himself if he wants an outsider involved. I’m a layman not a police officer – not part of the ‘tribe’ or the culture. This can have benefits but it can also be problematic because he has no control over me.
Carlson makes a decision. ‘I’m texting you an address. Meet me there at midday.’
Florence is at the kitchen bench. She bites off a corner of toast. ‘What was that about?’
‘I’m working on the case.’
‘That’s good, isn’t it?’
‘I hope so.’
I scroll through my contacts lists and find a number. Derek Posniak picks up immediately. He and I were at university together and once shared a girlfriend, although we didn’t know it at the time. Now he works for the National Crime Agency, but never talks about his job. I once joked he was a spy. Derek laughed, but there was nothing behind his eyes.
‘Padfoot,’ he says cheerfully. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’
He’s using an old nickname, given to me because Cyrus sounds like Sirius (as in Sirius Black), who was Harry Potter’s godfather and could transform into a big black dog called Padfoot.
‘I might have something for you,’ I say.
‘Really? Most people want something from me.’
He’s tapping on a keyboard as he speaks.
‘The small boat that capsized off Cleethorpes was deliberately rammed.’
‘On what evidence?’
‘The eyewitness testimony of the survivor.’
‘A fourteen-year-old.’
‘And text messages from someone else on board.’
Posniak pauses and I hear a pen tapping against his teeth. ‘Have you talked to the police?’
‘I’m working on the case.’
‘Why do you need me?’
‘Yesterday, I talked to an asylum seeker who left Calais on a different boat on the same night. It landed safely in Essex. He told me that the other boat didn’t have permission to travel.’
‘Permission from whom?’
