Nineteen Eighty by David Peace Read Free Book Online Page A

bloody library.’
‘Of course not. We’re going to need to log –’
‘Actually, no. Well, yes; you’re going to have to log it, that’s right. But you’re also going to have to request the files first.’
‘OK. We’d like to request access to copy all the case files pertaining to the Ripper Investigation.’
‘Look –’
‘Everything.’
‘Look –’
‘As soon as possible.’
‘Look, that’s not going to happen.’
‘What do you mean?’
Another silence, longer –
‘You better come over. I’ll call the Chief Constable.’
‘Fine.’
‘Ten o’clock?’
‘Ten it is.’
I hang up.
Murphy’s looking at the dirty snow, watching a train pull out of the station –
‘That’d be the Manchester train,’ he says. ‘Train home.’
Step inside –
Noble and I are sat in silence, waiting for Angus.
I’m facing the window and the snow, my back to the door, massaging my temple.
He’s just sat there, waiting, watching the door.
Angus is on his way from Wakefield and again I’m wondering why the Chief Constable’s office is over there and not here in Leeds, not here in his biggest city, not closer to his second largest, Bradford.
Then the door opens and here he is –
No knock –
Noble standing to change places, Angus sitting down in his seat, me in the same chair –
Angus: ‘Gentlemen?’
Noble’s gushing: ‘There’s a couple of things we need to get straight …’
Angus isn’t listening, just looking at me.
‘… an office next to the Murder Room,’ Noble’s saying.
Angus stands up: ‘Let’s have a look then.’
We follow him out of the door and up the corridor, up towards the Murder Room, the Ripper Room , the telephones ringing and the typewriters clattering, up to a small windowless room next door.
A couple of uniforms are carrying boxes and bin-bags out.
Those are for you to use,’ says Noble, pointing at two grey metal filing cabinets on the other side of a brown table.
‘Do you have the keys?’
Noble sighs: ‘I’ll be sure to get them for you.’
‘And for the office itself?’
He nods once.
‘So this is OK?’ asks Angus.
‘Phone lines?’
‘How many do you need?’
‘Two. Minimum.’
‘OK. Tomorrow.’
‘Thank you. Now what about the files themselves?’
‘What about them?’
‘The procedure? How do we get access to them?’
‘Just ask me,’ says the Chief Constable.
Noble’s closed the door, the three of us standing around the table, the bare bulb almost at eye-level.
‘OK,’ I say. ‘We’d like access to copy each of the files that pertain to the Ripper Inquiry.’
Angus smiles: ‘You know how much bloody stuff that is?’
‘No, but I imagine it’d be a lot.’
‘It is.’
‘But I still need access to it all.’
‘This is an ongoing active investigation. These files are constantly being updated and reviewed.’
‘I would hope so. But the fact remains that I need access to them.’
‘To a large extent, without a guide, they’ll be meaningless.’
‘Then if you can supply a guide that would be a great help. But obviously, without ready access to the files I can’t do the job I have been asked to do by Sir John and the Home Office.’
Angus’s face has changed, benign and kindly Uncle Ron gone: ‘Obviously. And I appreciate that but, Mr Hunter, for your part you must also appreciate that I can’t have these files just wandering off here and there.’
‘Obviously’
‘And the copying alone’ll be a huge undertaking.’
‘Then just grant us the access we need.’
Noble’s staring at Angus, Angus at me, me at him –
Eventually Angus says: ‘We’ll put you another desk in here, a couple more chairs. I’ll provide you with a guide , a liaison officer. Your people ask him to get them the files they need; he’ll provide, log and replace them as required.’
‘Thank you.’
He looks at his watch: ‘One o’clock?’
Noble and I nod.
‘One o’clock,’ repeats Angus and opens the door for me.
It’s eleven by the time I get back to the Griffin.
They’re sat there, waiting.
I lay it out.
They mutter, roll their eyes, and take an early lunch.
Upstairs, I dial Whitby:
Philip Evans is away for