Only The Good Die Young, Book 1

Chapter 2:

“Interview with Kathryn O’Sullivan, the time is 18:30, officers present, DS John Boulton.”

“DC Jim Carver”

“May I remind you Kathryn that you are under caution, anything you say will be used in evidence.”

Katy smiled a heartbreaking smile at John. Jim shifted in his seat and noticed that John was sweating. Jim gave Katy the once-over. She had shoulder length curly blonde hair, big green eyes and a killer smile. She was about 5 foot 6, and had nice tits, Jim thought. The way she was looking at John Boulton, it was no wonder he was sweating.

“Where were you at 5:45 this morning?” John asked.

“Um…” Katy paused… “I was at my mother’s house. Daft old bat misplaced her medicine.”

“Come on Kathryn, you can do better than that. You were arrested this morning at 5:45 AM, after attempting to rob the National Whitehall Bank on Canley High Street.”

“If you say so, John,” Katy winked at Jim and grinned at John.

John cleared his throat. Katy grinned again. Jim glanced from her to the Sarge and back again.

“Jim… why don’t you get our suspect here a coffee?” John said, through clenched teeth.

“But we just started…” Jim protested.

“Interview suspended, 18:35,” John spoke over Jim’s protests.

Jim shot up out of the chair and skulked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

“Right, Katy, what are you doing back here?” The light caught John’s eyes and they belied feeling beneath his angry tone of voice.

Katy smiled, “Well, I don’t know… maybe I missed you.”

“You know what could happen if anyone ever found out… that’s why I asked you to leave.”

“Oh yeah, a cop and a villain in love… it’s so unoriginal that they actually make TV programmes about it.” Katy twirled one of her blonde curls around her finger and met John’s piercing stare.

“I won’t put my career at risk for you. I’ve already told you this. I’ve got too much going on here. I’m going to make DI in a few years. I can’t have a romance with you now. I never could have one with you.”

John paused and drew a breath hoping to make the lie sound convincing, “I don’t want this.”

“You used to. When you were a green PC and I was your first collar… that you let off. You used to burn for me. And me, well I’ve always burned for you. We could have been good together. We were good together. In fact, it was with my help that you got enough informants to impress your way into CID. And then you became too good for me. All of a sudden you’re well hard and want nothing to do with your dodgy girlfriend without whom you’d still be a PC writing traffic tickets and harassing kerb crawlers.”

“Katy don’t. You didn’t come here to dredge up the past.” John was starting to get impatient. “What do you want? I’m not giving you money to go away. I can’t get you out of this mess either. And if you start talking to people about our history I will make sure that you get sent somewhere that nobody will listen.”

“Do you have a girlfriend, John?” Katy lit a cigarette.

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“Just answer me, do you have someone?”

“No. Not right now.” She looked in his eyes and then looked away, taking a deep breath.

“Have you had a girlfriend since we split?”

“No.” John admired her long tapered fingers, and her round mouth. She always looked so damn sexy no matter if she was smoking a cigarette or smashing windows open.

Katy smiled to herself, and continued, “I am back for a reason, John.”

“What is it?”

“A bit of very useful information has found it’s way to me about a certain ready supply of uncut heroin that is flooding Sun Hill right now. I was asked to come in on it, but as you know I don’t touch drugs. I know what this stuff does to kids.”

John started to feel the blood rising in his ears. This had the prospect of being an amazing arrest and a possible commendation for him. Plus, he thought, it could also get Katy out of this mess with the robbery. He glanced at her, and felt the longing that he had felt for her ever since he made her leave, increase exponentially. Deep inside himself he knew that they were meant for each other but he couldn’t admit it. He was cop, she was crook. Even if she did go straight, she had a sheet on her a mile long and having a known burglar, of everything from houses to museums, as a wife would basically ruin his career. And he had worked too long to give it all up for her.

‘After all,’ he lied to himself, ‘We’re too different, her and I, and it would never work.’

“My advice is, confess to this right now but come out with the info about the heroin and I will pull a few strings and get this dropped against you. Only you, not your friends. And then I want you to go and never see you again.”

“It won’t be that easy to get to the heroin, John. You need me. You always did and you still do.” Katy leaned into the table, peering into John’s eyes.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” John moved forward as well, their faces almost touching, their eyes locked on each other. The tension hung in the air between them and at any minute, one of them could do something they wouldn’t regret.

Just then, the door slammed open and Jim came back with a cold coffee for Katy. John jumped backwards, startled. Katy slowly relaxed backwards in her chair and shot Jim an innocent look. Jim glared at both of them and plonked the coffee down in front of her.

John reached over and switched on the tape. “Interview resumed with Kathryn O’Sullivan, time is 18:43, the same officers are present.”

Katy smiled at Jim and said, “I would like to volunteer some information that has been made known to me by Toby Price. Sun Hill is on the receiving end of large quantities of uncut heroin. I was asked to come in and help supply it but I refused. The drugs are being picked up on the cross-channel ferry routes between Portsmouth and Caen, Portsmouth and Cherbourg and Dover-Calais. The seller makes three returns a week, once on each of these routes. Dealers get on board, don’t get off of the boat, and buy the drugs out of the seller’s cabin, or in the case of Dover-Calais, right on deck. The seller is from the continent. Because the dealers don’t leave the ship, they don’t need to go through customs. It all seems perfectly simple.”

Jim looked at John, who was taking it all in, “There’s still the matter of this robbery, Kathryn.”

“I’m offering to help assist in the apprehension of the seller. I would be willing to go in and set up a meeting with the seller, and you could arrest him. But the condition of my help is that you will let my involvement in this burglary slide.”

Jim opened his mouth to refuse but John interrupted, “I can’t make you any promises, Kathryn but I’ll run it past my governor. We like to help those who have been very co-operative with us.”

“Alright. I trust you, Sergeant. Please, trust me.”

John and Katy both knew that would never happen but John smiled and nodded, “Just a few more questions, about your involvement in the burglary.”

“Alright.”

“Who organised the job?”

“Peter and Steve.”

“What was your role in it?”

“I was just a sentry. Watch out for danger and the like.”

“So you just had a minor role in the whole thing?”

“Yes. I was just along for the ride really.”

“Fair enough, interview terminated at 19:00.” John switched off the tape recorder.

Jim stood up, abruptly, and said, “Sarge, can I have a word?”

Jim held open the door and John walked out into the hallway.

“What is it Jim?” John asked, exasperated.

“Sarge, with all due respect, you can’t get her out of the charge of bank robbery just because she’s got information on a drugs supplier and is willing to go undercover!”

“Jim, she’s very valuable. She can help us with this. There’s been five deaths from that heroin in the past month and this is the first lead we’ve got on it. I’m not going to throw that away over a thwarted bank robbery.”

“Surely you don’t believe her cock and bull story about having nothing to do with it. And not to mention an assault.” Jim motioned to John’s cheek.

“It’s nothing. Besides, she’ll probably get a probationary sentence if she helps us and this turns out.”

“With her record? She’ll be lucky to not get 20 years. You should know her, you arrested her when you were down at West End Central, as a PC.”

“You checked her record?” John asked.

“Yes. She was quite a regular at Central. I’m amazed you don’t remember her.”

“It was a long time ago, and I don’t remember her,” John growled at Jim, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to see the DCI.”

John turned on his heel and walked down the corridor. Jim glared at the back of his head before turning back into the interview room to finish up the tapes and paperwork before taking Katy back down to the cells.

* * *

“Absolutely not. Out of the question. You must be having a laugh, John.”

Jack Meadows sat back in his chair and studied the thundercloud that was appearing over John’s head. John was so impetuous, so sure of himself, and when others refused to go along with him, it didn’t matter if it was a lowly PC or the Chief Superintendent, John would not go down without a fight. Jack had a feeling that John was ready to go down blazing over this one.

“Guv, this is the first solid lead we’ve had on this stuff. There’s been five deaths from it already. Six if you count the girl in hospital who’s probably going to die at any minute. We’d be fools if we didn’t act upon this right now. I know the source – she’s reliable. She knows what she’s talking about, and has been around long enough to be able to be of use to us in getting the stuff.” Jack noticed that John was clenching his fists.

“I don’t deny that John, but you expect me to ok you looking the other way about her involvement in an attempted bank robbery. This isn’t church, you know, we’re not in the business of forgiveness and atonement. You of all people should realise that.”

“I know Katy, sir, from way back. And I told her that if she co-operated, I could get her out of this mess.”

“Surely you weren’t daft enough to say that on tape,” Jack said, irritated.

“No. I didn’t.” John shot Jack a look at the mere mention that he should be so careless.

“The best you can do, if she comes through for us, is to have a word with her judge about how co-operative she’s been and how she helped us with the heroin. But that’s it.”

“So it’s ok to use her to get to the bottom of it?” John asked.

“Yes, but no deals to get her out of this, John. Do you understand?”

“Sir,” John mumbled, and turned to go.

Outside of the DCI’s office, Jim was waiting for John to finish, “So how did it


“Fine… fine.” John brushed past him on the way to the cells.
“What did the DCI say?”

“We can proceed on Katy’s information.”

“And what about her?” Jim struggled to keep up with John’s pace down the narrow Sun Hill corridors.

“Same deal everyone else gets,” John cut the corner very tightly, forcing Jim to walk behind him.

“Are you going to tell her that?”

“Not yet.”

John smiled at Bob Cryer as he entered the custody suite. “May I see Kathryn O’Sullivan for a few seconds, Bob?”

“Why should I let you do this John? You know it’s against the rules.” Bob leaned back and looked at John. He wasn’t well liked and for good reason, he expected everyone to bend and twist the rules when it suited him.b, bb, being from the old school, couldn’t understand what someone so careless was doing as a sergeant.

“Well, I’ve just come from a meeting with the DCI about some information she provided us with, and I wanted to tell her that we were going to take her up on the offer to assist us,” John said, mustering up patience with the older man from somewhere within his depths. John hated having to explain his actions to anyone, least of all “Uncle” Bob, and wished that he could just grab the keys and do it himself.

Bob thought for a few seconds and conceded, “Five minutes. And it’s going in the custody record.”

“Alright.”

Bob grabbed the large key ring and led John back to the female cells.

Unlocking the door, it swung open and John stepped inside. Katy was sitting on the floor in the lotus position, doing some yoga meditation. John cleared his throat and she slowly opened her eyes and looked up at him.

“A calm robber is a successful robber, Sergeant,” Katy said, a half grin playing at the corners of her mouth.

“And a happy cop is a cop that catches the robber,” John said, smirking at her.

Katy’s eyes focused on Bob Cryer who was standing in the doorway, observing them. John glanced over his shoulder and said, “I can handle this Bob.”

Bob shrugged and walked away. Under his breath he mumbled, “I sincerely doubt that.”

Katy stood up and walked over to John. She fingered the lapel of his jacket and looked shyly up into his eyes. “Do you have any news for me officer?”

John turned away from her, embarrassed, “I spoke to my DCI and he’s agreed to go ahead and use you and your information.”

Katy slid up behind him and started to rub his shoulders, “Show me some love, John. Can we overlook this little incident in exchange for my co-operation on certain vastly more important matters?”

John turned around to face her, bracing himself for the tirade of abuse that was sure to follow his response. Inadvertently, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in her eyes. He felt like she could see his soul in that instant and it caught him off guard, as did his answer.

“Yes.”

John could feel himself drawn to her, to her lips, which were so tempting, like forbidden fruit. He could see it in her eyes, how badly she wanted him, and underneath her act, he could feel how she had been longing for him ever since he made her go away, almost as much as he, himself, had been longing for her. He turned his head to the side and looked at the wall. John could feel his body reacting to hers, like it always had, her breath, hot and sweet against his cheek, her lips mere centimetres awa

John closed his eyes and suddenly, he was 23 again, a new PC, only on the job for five days. He was walking down an alleyway to the tube station on his way home one cold December night and he observed a figure, clad in black, coming out of a shop window. Anxious to make a name for himself, he yelled out, “Stop Police!” The figure ran for it and he gave pursuit. Always very quick, he was able to outmanoeuvre that shadow, and tackled it to the ground, landing on top and pinning their shoulders to the pavement. Pulling the mask off was the first time he had ever laid eyes on Katy.

“Hello, Constable. My, you’re new. They haven’t even let you try on the uniform yet. How old are you? About 18?” Katy grinned up at John and her smile almost took his breath away.

“I’m a detective constable, and I’m 23,” John said, testily. “I’m arresting you for burglary. You do not have to say…”

“You’re far from home! A Scouser! What are you doing so far from home?”

“I wanted to be where the action is. Now if you don’t mind I want to…”

“You’re not a detective constable at 23. I bet you’re still being puppywalked, am I right?” Katy continued to interrupt him.

“So what if I am?” John replied, angrily, looking down at her as he was still on top of her, pinning her to the pavement. “Now will you shut up so I can…”

“You want to be a detective constable, don’t you? I bet you want to get into CID as soon as you can.”

“Yeah I do.” John let up and sat backwards on his knees. Katy slowly slid upwards so she was sitting upright on the kerb, looking at him. He reminded her of a puppy, lost, far from home, and lonely.

“Tell you what, you’re cute and I like you. Let me help you.”

“What can you do for me?” John asked, eyes wide open.

“Give you information. Lots and lots of it. Who’s doing what, where, and when. Just think of me as your first snout. With my help, CID will be banging down your door in no time at all. And all you have to do is let me put this stuff back, and walk away.”

John thought for a minute, “This isn’t a wind-up, is it?”

Katy laughed, “You are green, aren’t you? No, this isn’t a wind up, I promise. And to prove it, you can watch me put this gear back and you can walk me home just so you know where to find me.” She smiled at him again and he felt his stomach doing flip-flops.

John had broken up with his girlfriend in Liverpool before moving down to Hendon for training. Since then, he had not met any girls that took his fancy. He had made a few friends during training but since going to WEC, it seemed like all anyone wanted him for was to be the butt of a barrage of endless ginger jokes. Getting a collar might help him win the respects of his colleagues, but having someone clued in giving him tip-offs would mean many collars to win the respects of his colleagues. And she was beautiful, and had said that she thought he was cute.

“Ok,” said John. “But don’t make me regret this, alright? And I am walking you home.”

“I’d be very disappointed if you didn’t, officer,” Katy grinned, “What’s your name?”

“PC Boulton…. John. What’s yours?”

“Kathryn Elizabeth O’Sullivan, but you can call me Katy.”

John stood up and held out his hand to her, helping her stand up, “Is that your real name?”

“Yes… why would I lie?”

John’s mind went blank for a second, “I… I guess you wouldn’t.”

Katy walked back to the store window. It was not broken open, so John inspected how she gained entry. She had used a suction cup and a pump to create a vacuum to pop the lock on it, and slid it open. She slid back inside, with her bag of loot, and proceeded ut but back the items that she had taken. By the look of how she had managed to gain access, John reckoned she was a professional.

In a few minutes she came back out the window and slid it shut. John looked at her bag suspiciously.

“May I?” he said, reaching for her bag.

Katy handed it over, “Nothing in there but my own stuff.”

“You know I can’t let you keep this.”

“Why not?”

“Because, even though I’m letting you off, I would be negligent if I let you keep your tools of the trade. If you’re gonna be helping me, I don’t want you getting nicked tomorrow night by one of my colleagues.”

“Fair enough.” Katy smiled at him.

They walked down towards the Thames. Katy lived in a flat in Canary Wharf, and they were headed to Embankment to catch a district line train to Tower Hill, and then change onto the DLR. As they walked along the river, John chucked the bag over the retaining wall and into the murky water of the Thames. The streetlights illuminated Katy’s hair and she took John by surprise when she linked her arm with his as they walked. John wasn’t sure what the regulations for fraternisation between police and criminals were, but he guessed that what he felt like doing when he looked at her was definitely against the rules, and even worse, she knew what he was feeling and wanted him to break them.

In the present day, almost as if she was reading his mind, Katy whispered, “When did that innocent, lonely young PC become such a hardened, career-driven lonely sergeant?” in his ear. John turned his head back towards her and bent down to kiss her, forgetting where he was, what he was doing, who he was.

Just as his lips came within a hair of hers, they were startled by Bob Cryer clearing his throat, as he was standing in the doorway. John almost jumped out of his skin and Katy took a few steps backwards.

“Conjugal visiting hours are over now, time to go John,” Bob said, almost enjoying catching John in such an awkward position.

John turned on his heel and walked out of the cell, brushing past Bob, his face as red as his hair. Katy looked at the space that seconds before he had occupied.

“Can I get you anng, ng, Kathryn?” Bob had been around long enough to know what it looked like when someone was in love with someone they couldn’t have. He felt sorry for the girl, though, because from the look of her record that Jim Carver had shown him, she probably fell in love with John way before he turned into a job-hardened bastard.

“Yeah, a new life, sergeant,” Katy said sadly.

“Cup of coffee, then, coming right up,” Bob said, warmly. He shut the door and opened the window, looking in at her for a few seconds. Katy couldn’t see him though, through her tears. Bob retrieved a box of tissues from the custody desk and pushed them through the slot. Katy heard it clatter to the floor.

“Thank you, Sergeant Cryer,” she said.

Bob smiled at her through the slot, “Don’t mention it. How do you take your coffee?”

“White please, no sugar.”

“You know, we don’t often get people like you in the cells. Why do you do it?”

“Well, it’s my vocation. Some people are born to be police officers, like you Sergeant. Me, I was born to burgle. It’s what I’m the very best at. It’s not the thieving that I enjoy, but lord knows that’s how I make money. It’s the challenge of getting into a place, outwitting security cameras and alarms, and making it out without getting caught, that I enjoy. Sometimes, I even pick a building, and just break in for the heck of it, without taking anything. It’s the challenge that I’m good at – where I work best.”

“You would have made a good police officer, Kathryn.”

“You’re right. I would have. I followed in my family’s footsteps though. Surely you have heard of my father, Bruce O’Sullivan?”

“Your father was the famous Bruce O’Sullivan? The great cat burglars?”

“Yeah. Did over the Krays and all. They had a contract on him for a while so he took us me to Spain and that’s where he taught me the craft.” Katy dabbed at her eyes and ran a hand through her thick curls. “He would be livid with me if he was still alive.”

“He never stopped, did he, even after he got sent down?” Bob said.

“No way. He lived it. Like me, the thrill of the job was much more important than the actual goods. He told me that when you get greedy is when you get caught and he was right. That bank job was just greed. I was brought in on it for my skill but I entrusted those two idiots, Peter and Steven, with everything else. They went shooting their mouths off on the estate for people to help out and wouldn’t you know one of John’s snouts got the tip and told him? I knew coming to Sun Hill was trouble.”

“How do you know John? You two seemed awful familiar,” Bob asked, casually.

“Old friends.” Katy stopped her friendly tone and looked away.

“You seem more than friends.”

“We’re old friends, Sergeant. Can I get that coffee now, please?” Katy said, shooting Bob a look.

“Of course.” Bob closed the flap and walked away. He lingered outside her cell for a few moments and heard her start to cry again.

On the way to the canteen, Bob ran into John Boulton coming out of the men’s toilet.

“Bob, can I have a word?” John asked, holding open the door.

“If this is about Kathryn O’Sullivan, John, you don’t need to,” Bob said, walking past him into the bathroom.

“Listen, Bob, it’s not what it seems.”

“I think you both have a history. I know you arrested her before, when you were a PC at West End Central. Jim ran her name for previous and a whole load came up, not to mention quite a few arrests with your name on them. Strangely enough, on your arrests, the charges were always dropped.”

“She was my snout. She gave me the tips and went along with the others, we arrest the whole lot and let her off because she was only there to keep her cover.”

“So do you always get so close to your snouts?”

John glared at Bob, “Katy was different. We have a past, but that’s what it is. Past.”

“At the rate you’re going John, you’re not going to have a future either if you keep it up with her.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” John said, colour rising in his cheeks.

“You’re still in love with her aren’t you?” Bob asked.

“That’s none of your business,” John snapped, glaring at Bob.

“I know she’s in love with you, and that’s why I’m not going to mention what I saw to anyone. But for God’s sake, John, if you are going to have any sort of relationship with her again, don’t do it in the cells. Try to be a little discreet, for the sake of your career.”

“Don’t worry, it won’t happen again.” John briskly walked out of the room.

Bob shook his head. He liked Kathryn. She was old-school, and a lady. It was a shame that she had ever got herself mixed up with someone like John Boulton. And also a shame that she had to follow in her father’s footsteps. Bob sighed, and went to get her coffee.