Refreshed and eager to get back to work, Jane arrived at the station at 8 a.m. She was unsure whether DCI Bradfield would still want, or need her, to continue with the indexing of statements and information on the Collins investigation. She was about to knock on his door when Kath saw her in the corridor and scooted out from the incident room.
‘Shush, Jane, don’t wake him up. He’s having a kip in his armchair.’
They both went into the incident room and Kath continued to update Jane about Bradfield.
‘He didn’t finish in the mortuary until 2 a.m., and then he had to write up his report cos the DCS is on his back. He’s been here all night and God knows what time he eventually got to sleep. I’ve had a pretty rough night of it – Spencer Gibbs had me looking after Mrs Phillips after she threw a wobbly, but mind you I don’t blame her under the circumstances.’
Jane had a puzzled look on her face. ‘Kath, can you please slow down and start at the beginning as I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about regarding Mrs Phillips.’
‘Sorry, I totally forgot you were at Harker’s lecture yesterday. Bloody brilliant, isn’t he? Did you spot the crucial clue with the suspect’s trainers?’
‘Yes to the talk and no to the trainers. Tell me more about what’s been happening here.’
‘Well, it wasn’t exactly here, over at Regent’s Canal to be exact. Anyway get a couple of coffees and a bacon roll for us both, an egg in mine as well, and then I’ll give you the whole story,’ Kath said, handing Jane some money.
She returned from the canteen fifteen minutes later and listened intently as Kath told her everything that had occurred the previous evening concerning Eddie Phillips and his grandmother.
‘She was in tears but calm at first, well, more in a sort of catatonic shock, I’d say. Then when she ID-ed Eddie’s body at the mortuary she really went off on one, screamed her head off and went for poor old Spencer. Her personality change was unbelievable.’
‘Did she hit DS Gibbs?’ Jane asked with surprise.
‘Tried to slap him and then kicked him in the shins. It was quite funny as he was hopping about on one leg because it hurt so much!’
‘Why did she react like that?’
‘Do me a favour, Eddie’s face was bloated and discoloured from being in the water. Anyway she was convinced Bradfield and Gibbs had beaten him to death then dumped his body in the Regent’s Canal.’ Kath went on to explain how she’d had to restrain Nancy and get the police surgeon out to sedate her.
‘I felt so sorry for her I took her home and stayed the night with her. The drugs calmed her down, but she still had tears spilling down her cheeks and kept saying, ‘My poor little fella, what a waste.’ Eddie was all she had and even though he was a druggie she obviously loved him. She even told me that looking after him was what kept her going. Eventually she fell asleep, but when she woke up at the crack of dawn the drugs had worn off. She saw me as the enemy cos I was connected to Bradfield and Gibbs. She screamed that she’d tell the papers and get a petition up from everyone on the estate about how the police had murdered her grandson.’
‘What happened then?’ Jane asked.
‘She told me to eff off out of her flat, so I did before she went for me as well.’
‘Regent’s Park is a bit off Eddie’s usual patch for shooting up, isn’t it? From what I read he normally used the squat on the Pembridge,’ Jane remarked.
Kath cocked her head to one side, noting Jane’s use of ‘shooting up’, proving that she had picked up the drug lingo Kath had explained to her.
‘A dog walker found him face down between two barges, more towards Camden than by the Zoo side. Who knows what he was doing over that way. In fact Mrs Phillips came to the station yesterday morning as she thought he was still in custody, but he’d been released the day before.’
‘I think it’s really strange. I mean do they reckon he died where they found him, or elsewhere and was dumped?’ Jane asked.
Kath shrugged. ‘Gibbs told me they don’t know for sure, but they think that whatever happened to him occurred on the canal path. So far there are no witnesses. All he had on him was a few coins and a bus ticket from Hackney, bought shortly after he was released from here.’
‘How long had he been in the water?’
‘No idea as I didn’t get to stay for the post-mortem. But you know they got those two big markets in Camden and they’re both fairly new, very trendy and the sort of place drug dealers might hang out.’
Jane remembered something. ‘Didn’t Eddie Phillips give DCI Bradfield the names of some dealers?’
‘Yeah, and the drug squad came in and were with him for a couple of hours. They were going to do some digging and speak to informants and see what they could find out, but I don’t think he’s heard back from them.’
Jane sifted through the indexing carousel and finding the card she was looking for showed it to Kath.
‘Eddie said two men, one nicknamed Big Daddy and someone called Dwayne.’
Kath nodded, ‘Yeah, that’s right.’
‘Do you think Eddie got scared and went to see this Big Daddy?’
Kath had a drip of egg yolk on her chin and she wiped it off with her paper napkin before answering.
‘Why would Eddie go see someone he’s scared of?’
Jane shrugged. ‘He might tell him about being arrested as a murder suspect, or that the police were asking questions about Julie Ann’s dealer. He could say he kept quiet and didn’t tell the police anything so—’
‘He wouldn’t look like a grass? I dunno, Jane, it’s possible, but what I do know is the poor little bastard ended up dead.’
‘We should have had him followed after he left here.’
‘Yeah maybe, but I wouldn’t go saying that to Bradfield. He was really pissed off last night because he still thinks Eddie was withholding information.’
‘And I’ll be more pissed off if you two don’t get on with some work!’ Bradfield said.
Kath and Jane were so engrossed in their conversation that neither of them had seen him standing in the doorway. He was rubbing his hair dry with a towel and had obviously just had a shower in the men’s locker room. He threw his Eddie Phillips death-scene and post-mortem reports down on the desk and told Jane to get them typed up and indexed. He then turned to Kath and asked her to call the drug squad and tell them to pull their fingers out, as it was now possible that this Big Daddy character, or his sidekick Dwayne, had murdered Eddie Phillips.
Jane got out some blank index cards, placed two sheets of plain paper and carbon in the typewriter and began typing. Kath was straight on the phone to the drug squad whilst Bradfield asked Jane if Kath had updated her on the death of Eddie Phillips.
‘Yes, sir,’ she replied nervously, wondering how much he’d heard of her conversation with Kath.
‘This case is going from bad to worse. Tell the team as they come in that I want an office meeting at 10 a.m. I’m going to the canteen for some breakfast,’ he said gruffly.
Kath put the phone down. ‘Two drug squad officers are already on their way from the Yard to see you, guv.’
He said nothing, simply raising his hand in acknowledgement as he left the room.
‘Do you think he’d been standing there for long?’ Jane asked.
‘Na, otherwise he’d have had you over the coals for the remark about tailing Eddie. So tell me, how did it go with Dr Harker?’
‘It was really interesting and informative when he discussed fibres being left behind and picked up at a scene by suspects. Especially as there were red carpet fibres on Julie Ann’s socks. Dr Harker was very nice and I liked him . . . he even asked if I would like to go for a drink.’
‘Wow! Teacher’s pet! So where did you go?’
‘I didn’t – I had a rehearsal for my sister’s wedding.’
‘So you turned him down? Couldn’t the rehearsal have waited?’
‘No way – you have no idea how obsessed my family have been with it
all – the church arrangements, the reception venue, the invitations . . . My sister is behaving like a prima donna and I can’t think of anything worse than being a bridesmaid.’
‘Ah well, she’s your sister and it’ll be her big day.’
‘The only hope I have is of some major incident happening so that my leave gets cancelled and I have to come to work.’
‘Don’t be so cruel! You never know, you might get a leg-over with the best man.’
‘For goodness’ sake, Kath, if he’s anything like the guy she’s getting married to that is definitely not going to be on the agenda.’
‘Well, maybe you’ll get another date with Harker – mind you, rumour has it he’s married with kids.’
‘What?’
‘It’s only what I heard. You gotta watch these forensic scientists – they’re all smooth talk and touchy-feely. I think he’s attractive in a sort of public-school way. Why not put yourself down for another one of his lectures?’
‘I wouldn’t mind another lecture but there’s no date if he’s married.’
Kath pursed her lips, smiling.
‘Well, you’re quite a prude, aren’t you, Jane Tennison?’
‘I don’t think not dating a married man, children or not, has anything to do with being a prude. Why get into something that isn’t going to do anything but cause hurt and emotional stress?’
‘You’re not gay, are you?’
‘No I am not! Honestly, Kath, you’re really embarrassing me.’
‘Well, I don’t know, you could be, as I’ve never seen you out with any of the guys from this station. Mind you, I can’t say I blame you as most of them are only interested in havin’ a quick shag. Are you dating a fella or shacked up with anyone?’
‘You know that I live at home with my parents.’
‘Oh Christ yes, I forgot. Did you fill in that request form for a section-house room?’
‘Yes, but I haven’t heard back yet.’
‘I know there’s a space coming up, and you’ll have your pick of three floors of guys. Lotta drinking and sex goes on, but there’s a uniform sergeant in charge who’s like Godzilla. Heaven forbid if he catches you going in or coming out of one of the men’s rooms, and vice versa for the blokes. Mind you I suppose living at home is not conducive to having a hot fling.’
‘Kath, for heaven’s sake!’
‘My God, don’t tell me you’re a virgin?’
Jane had her back to the door. She was about to reply when she realized there were two men listening in behind her. They were both dressed scruffily in jeans and T-shirts and one had long, manky-looking hair and a droopy moustache. Kath burst into giggles, as Jane flushed bright red having been caught out twice in the space of minutes. The younger of the two detectives winked at Jane and said he lived in room 12 at the section house on the first floor. His mate commented that unfortunately he was married and lived at home, but having heard what Kath had just said he was now thinking of moving to the section house. They both laughed loudly and asked where DCI Bradfield was. Kath, still laughing, said he was in the canteen and they left the room.
‘I’m sorry, Jane, but you should have seen them with their jaws wide open.’
‘Who were they?’ Jane asked.
‘Drug squad guys by the looks of it.’
‘Does the one with the scruffy hair really live in the section house?’
‘No, but I wish he did,’ Kath replied with a leering smile.
Jane was unsure how to rebuff the giggling Kath as she didn’t like the way she had drawn her into discussing her private life. As always she could never remain uptight with Kath, who now hooked her arm around Jane’s shoulder.
‘Don’t pay any attention to me, darlin’. With those big tits you got I’m sure you had a lot of guys panting after you at Hendon Police College. I know I did – lost my virginity to the PTI sergeant. The positions he could get into were unbelievable – he had a body like Burt Reynolds in Deliverance, and like the film he took me on a trip into unknown and dangerous territory,’ she said with a cheeky grin and another giggle.
Jane didn’t feel like laughing. In fact she felt rather disappointed in Kath, but she nevertheless laughed, acting as if it was all a joke.
Jane continued typing Bradfield’s report. She couldn’t stop thinking about the elderly Nancy Phillips’ reaction when she’d seen her grandson’s body. Although Jane felt sorry for her something niggled in her mind. Once she’d finished the typing she opened her handbag and got out the small notebook she had used during the lecture. She flicked through it until she came to the bullet points she’d made after her last conversation with Harker. She’d written and underlined ‘Grief causes emotion = stress & anger = real or fake guilt?’
Jane hurriedly picked up a pen from the desk and wrote ‘Julie Ann’ next to her last entry and then put a circle round her name.
Pentonville Prison’s visiting times were always crowded and noisy occasions. Families with children were usually kept over to one side, and the inmates were brought in by officers in groups of four to five. John and David sat at a table looking around the room to see if there was anyone they recognized as they waited for their father to be brought in.
‘Here he is,’ John said as he nudged David.
As their father strutted towards them he nodded to the officer sitting in a high chair overlooking the room. Clifford Bentley had thick grey hair and his son John resembled him. Although John was slightly shorter they both had the same square jaw and dark hooded eyes.
Clifford sat facing his sons. He nodded hello to both of them before drawing a plastic pouch filled with tobacco and some Rizla papers from his trouser pocket. Opening the pouch he removed some tobacco and dropped it onto a paper and nonchalantly made a roll-up with one hand.
John reached into his pocket, slowly pulling out a box of matches. He held them up so the watching officer could see what he was doing, struck one and his dad leant forward with the roll-up in his mouth.
‘Got everything for the new kitchen organized, have you?’ Clifford said through the side of his mouth and took a deep drag before blowing the smoke in the air.
‘Yeah, just a few more items needed but they’re expensive. I’ve rented a garage, cash payment under a false name, and we’re storing stuff there until we’re ready to begin,’ John said softly as he glanced round the room.
‘Is it secure?’ Clifford asked, and John nodded as he continued, ‘Good, yer don’t want anything nicked before you’re ready to go.’ His voice was gravelly from years of smoking and he had to cough frequently to clear his airways of phlegm. He handed John the roll-up and started to make another for himself.
‘You’ll have to work flat out when you start.’
‘Yes, Dad,’ the two sons said in unison.
‘Good, but make sure you always do it in the right hours. Don’t want locals complaining about the noise and calling the filth, do we,’ he said, referring to the police, and the boys shook their heads.
‘As soon as I’m released on parole I’ll help if you need me, but me joints ain’t what they used to be,’ Clifford said, putting the new roll-up in his mouth.
As he patted his pocket for a box of matches two young kids started fighting and screaming at each other. Clifford looked at the officer in the high chair and caught his eye.
‘Letting kids in this effing place does me eardrums in, officer, it shouldn’t be allowed . . . Can’t you sort ’em?’
The officer in the high chair nodded to his colleague on the floor to deal with the kids. Clifford used the opportunity to remove the palmed matches from his pocket and secretly place them on his lap under the table. John caught his father’s eye and nodding picked up the box of matches he had used to light their cigarettes. He held up his hand and rattled the box again towards the floor officer for permission to hand them to his father. The officer nodded and went over to speak to the mother of the screaming kids. Clifford took the matches from John, lit his roll-up and then switche
d them for the box on his lap.
‘So, who’ve you got to help decorate?’ Clifford asked and made a show of tapping the box on the table whilst puffing at the thin cigarette he had rolled so expertly.
‘Danny, the ex-Army bloke. He’s good with electrics and well up for it.’
Clifford realized Danny would be the ‘bell man’. He inhaled, slowly letting the smoke drift from his nose. ‘Boxer, weren’t he?’
John nodded. ‘Yeah, he fought middleweight in the Army. Tough son of a bitch.’
‘Well, if he’s up for it then you got to make sure he knows exactly what the job entails, but more important what I expect from him.’
‘He knows, Dad, he knows,’ John replied.
Clifford flicked the ash into a tin ashtray on the table, palmed John’s box of matches, and picking up his tobacco pouch folded it over, tucking the matches inside before putting it in his pocket. He looked at David.
‘You’ve not said a thing yet, son. You OK?’
‘I’m fine, Dad.’
‘Is he, John?’
‘For Chrissake, Dad, I can answer for meself!’
‘I’m sure you can, son, but your eyes look squiffy. You ain’t getting addicted to the painkillers, are yer, cos I warned you about them.’
‘No, Dad, I only take what I need.’
Clifford wagged his finger at David. ‘Are you on that wacky-backy shit? Loads of ’em use it in here and you can tell cos of their squiffy eyes.’
‘No, I was out with Ma in the rain the other night and got a bit of arthritis in me leg. It’s been real sore and keeping me awake so I’m just knackered, that’s all.’
‘How is she?’
John leaned forward. ‘She’s forgettin’ stuff all the time. If she gets any worse she’ll need to go in a nursing home. She’s not cleanin’ offices no more and I don’t like her goin’ out on her own.’
David glared at his brother. ‘She’s all right, I look out for her.’
Tennison Page 16