'So?'

'So then the secret shopper asks what Bayswater's like, whether or not it's a bit ethnic because he doesn't want trouble with the neighbours.'

'You're not serious?'

'As a heart-attack,' said Fogg. 'The Met's been proactive on the racism front for a few years now. I guess you didn't have it with West Mercia, but it's a b.l.o.o.d.y nightmare here. Colgate was in a no-win situation. If he gives any indication that Bayswater's multicultural mix is anything but a positive thing, then he's screwed. If he suggests a white middle-cla.s.s area, he's screwed. If he doesn't report the caller for racism, he's also screwed. But if he does report it, he gets labelled as a stool-pigeon for ever more.'

'So either way, he's screwed.'

'Pretty much.' They reached the front of the queue. Fogg ordered fish, chips and baked beans. Shepherd said he would have the same. Behind him, Kelly ordered two steak and kidney pies and double chips.

'So what did he do?' Shepherd asked Fogg, as they walked together to a table.

'He said that the line was breaking up and put the phone down. Told everyone else not to answer the phones for the next hour. That pretty much sorted it.' Fogg laughed. 'Those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds in their ivory towers haven't a clue what real policing is about.'

Shepherd spent the afternoon in a mock-stadium in the training centre, running through all the various scenarios that had been outlined in the cla.s.sroom. It was tiring and he was exhausted by the time the session was over. They had to wear the full protective riot gear: the helmet, with visor, was stifling and the fireproof overalls kept in most of his body heat, which meant he was sweating constantly.

When the CO12 instructor announced that they were done for the day, a cheer went up from the entire team. Shepherd took off his helmet and grinned at Fogg. 'You think we'll be doing it for real in 2012, Sarge?'

'They wouldn't be making us do this if they didn't think it was odds-on,' said Fogg. 'That was my first thought when they announced that London was going to host the Olympics. I mean, didn't the powers-that-be realise we're setting the capital up as the ultimate target?'

'I guess they didn't think it through.'

'As usual,' said Fogg. 'They forget we're not China we can barely keep track of who comes in and out, never mind what they're doing while they're here. The Chinese threw all the dissidents in prison for the duration of the Olympics and didn't allow anyone in that they thought might be a threat. We can't do that.'

'So what do you think will happen, Sarge?'

'I think we'll have demonstrations, for sure, but I wouldn't be surprised if we get a spectacular. I'd bet you anything you want here and now that, as we speak, there's dozens of Muslim groups planning all sorts of mischief, from suicide bombers to anthrax attacks to dirty bombs. And it just needs one of them to be lucky. We can train all we want but our expertise is all after the event. We just have to hope that MI5 and Special Branch do their job properly, because if they don't it's going to end in tears.'

'You're a bit of a pessimist, then, Sarge,' said Shepherd.

'How can you do this job and not be?' said Fogg. 'It's not as if we see the best in people, is it?' Shepherd watched him walk away. He knew what the sergeant meant. It was difficult to work in any branch of law enforcement without becoming cynical.

Kelly and c.o.ker came up behind him, removing their helmets. 'Bet you haven't got anything like this in Wales,' said Kelly.

'Hereford isn't in Wales,' said Shepherd.

'It's not really England, though, is it?' said Kelly. He winked at c.o.ker. 'We could call him Taff. What do you think?'

'Yeah, or Taffy,' said c.o.ker.

'I give up,' said Shepherd. 'Call me what the h.e.l.l you want.'

Kelly grinned. 'He's getting upset, Lurpak.'

'I'm not getting upset,' said Shepherd.

'Do you want a quick tour, Taff?' asked c.o.ker.

Shepherd winced.

'He doesn't like being called Taff, does he?' said c.o.ker.

'It's the Welsh in him,' said Kelly. 'I still think we should go for Sheeps.h.a.gger.'

'I'll take the tour,' said Shepherd. 'Anything to shut you up.'

Kelly and c.o.ker took Shepherd down a road lined on one side with breezeblock house frontages. On the other there was a mock-up of a council multi-storey building with common walkways. 'This is where we practise public-order stuff,' said Kelly. He pointed at the multi-storey. 'The flats there are kitted out for real with furniture, TVs, the works. There's an angry-man suite, all lined with padding, so that we can practise dealing with nutters.'

'That'd be your role, yeah?' asked Shepherd.

'We take it in turns,' said Kelly. 'It's quite therapeutic you put the protective gear on and get stuck in.'

'We get to throw petrol bombs and wooden blocks at each other,' said c.o.ker. 'And we get paid for it.'

They took him down an alley that led to a mock-up of an Underground station, complete with two carriages. 'This is where we practise shooting innocent members of the public,' said c.o.ker.

'Subtle,' said Shepherd.

Kelly and c.o.ker walked him around the mock town, pointing out the various buildings and locations, then headed for the car park. As they walked together towards their van, Kelly spotted another grey Mercedes van parked near the gates. 'Here's something you won't have seen before, Terry,' said Kelly. 'Official b.l.o.o.d.y secret, this is.'

It was a regular grey Sprinter, the same as the ones that the TSG drove around in, but there were no POLICE markings on the outside. Kelly tried the side door and grinned when he realised it wasn't locked. 'Have a look see if you can guess what it is?' He opened the door.

Shepherd climbed in and looked around. There were fewer seats than there had been in the van he'd driven in to the centre, and a plastic curtain divided off the rear of the vehicle. He pulled it back. Instead of the racks where the TSG stored their gear, there was a metal gurney, a shower attachment and a large metal barrel with a hazardous-waste symbol on it.

Shepherd turned to see c.o.ker and Kelly at the door, grinning at him.

'Well?' said Kelly.

'Portable shower?'

'It's the Queen's decontamination bus,' Kelly said. 'Whenever she's out in public, this bus is within a hundred yards of her. On board are two firearms officers with MP5s, a paramedic and two of our CBRN guys. If anyone throws a liquid or powder anywhere near Her Majesty, our two guys go rushing over to her with a stretcher and bring her onto the bus. As the bus is driven to the nearest medical facility, our guys cut off her clothing and douse her with water while the paramedic does the triage.'

'No way,' said Shepherd.

'G.o.d's truth,' said Kelly. 'Her Majesty's been briefed on what'll happen and she's apparently okay with it. There's another bus designated for the prime minister.'

'That's amazing,' said Shepherd, climbing out.

'You know what's amazing?' said Kelly, slamming the door shut. 'That we live in a country where something like this is necessary. That's what's amazing.' He patted Shepherd on the back. 'Come on, let's. .h.i.t the road. We don't get overtime for training.'

Shepherd arrived home at just after eight o'clock in the evening. He parked his bike at the rear of the house and let himself in at the front. As he was making himself a cup of coffee, his mobile phone rang. It was b.u.t.ton. 'Not got me under observation, have you?' he asked. 'I've only just walked in.'

'I know,' she said. 'We've got cameras in all the light fittings.'

Shepherd looked up at the fluorescent light in the ceiling and heard her chuckle. 'I bet I made you look,' she said.

'You did,' he said.

'Just checking to see that all went well,' she said.

'No problems,' he said. 'It was a training day so it gave me the chance to settle in.'

'Okay. Well, keep your head down,' she said. 'Call me if anything happens but I guess it'll take a while.'

'How's Razor getting on?'

'Loving it, apparently,' she said. 'He's already Dawson's new best friend. You take care now.'

'I will,' said Shepherd, and ended the call. He took his coffee through to the sitting room and sat on the sofa. He switched on the television, then phoned Liam's mobile. His son sounded distracted when he answered. 'What are you doing?' asked Shepherd.

'Teaching Lady to roll over.'

'Why?'

'It's a trick.'

'How about teaching her to tidy your room?'

'Dad...'

'Or cut the gra.s.s?'

'You know that sarcasm is the lowest form of wit?' said Liam.

'I heard that,' said Shepherd. 'Have you done your homework?'

'Most of it.'

'Make sure it's all done. What did Katra cook for tea?'

'Cheesy scrambled eggs.'

'That's what you have for breakfast.'

'I just felt like it again.'

'Vegetables?'

'Do chips count?'

'Just about.'

'So, yeah, I had vegetables. Lady, stay!'

'She's not sleeping on your bed at night, is she?' asked Shepherd.

'No,' said Liam.

'I should tell you that I've got this phone hooked up to the latest police lie detector and a red light flashed when you said that.'

'I don't believe you.'

'Flashed again.'

'You're joking.'

'Another red light.'

'Dad, stop it... It's not funny.'

'Okay, but don't let her sleep in your room, it's not healthy,' said Shepherd. 'I'll be back in Hereford on Friday night. Tell Katra I called and that everything's okay.'

'I will,' said Liam.

'Good night,' said Shepherd. 'I love you.'

'I love you too, Dad.'

Shepherd ended the call. He plumped up a cushion and swung his legs up onto the sofa. They ached from all the running he'd done and his left arm was sore from carrying the full-length shield. He hadn't realised how tired he was until he'd taken the weight off his feet, and within seconds he was fast asleep.

Tuesday was Shepherd's first day on the job proper. He gave himself plenty of time to park the bike and walk to the police station, and he arrived half an hour before his shift was due to start. When he went into the team room, only Carolyn Castle was there. 'Do you sleep here?' asked Shepherd.

'I was lucky with the traffic,' she said, looking up from the magazine she was reading.

'Where do you park?'

She grinned. 'I don't have to,' she said. 'My boyfriend drives. Parking's his problem.'

'Is he in the job?'

'I'd never date a cop,' she said. 'He's a doctor at St Mary's. What about you?'

'Yeah, I'd never date a cop either. Though Colgate's quite the cutie.'

'Who's a cutie?' asked a voice at the door. It was Turnbull.

'You,' said Castle.

'I was joking,' said Shepherd.

'I'm flattered,' said Turnbull.

'I was definitely joking,' said Shepherd.

c.o.ker and Kelly appeared behind Turnbull. 'What's going on?'

'Terry fancies me,' said Turnbull.