‘Give him time, he’s just nervous.’
‘We haven’t got it, Spence. If he doesn’t get a result in the next few hours we’ll have to bring in someone else.’
‘Where you gonna get ’em from? This equipment is illegal. Pull your finger out,’ Gibbs said as he patted Frank’s shoulder.
Bradfield straightened his tie, and ran his fingers through his hair. Spencer, taking care of the guv, asked if he had his fags and matches, and he nodded as they left for the office meeting.
Bradfield, followed by Gibbs, walked into the room, where the haze of cigarette smoke now hung like a blue cloud. Those who were sitting stood up, and as one officer started to applaud everyone joined in.
Jane watched in awe as Bradfield laughed and said the applause was a bit premeditated and they would all get a lot more than a few hand-claps if they got the result they were after. He stood at the front of the room with Gibbs and placed a notebook and file down on the table in front of him then pointed to the mug shots of the Bentleys and Daniel Mitcham.
‘You’ll all be pleased to know that DCS Metcalf fully supports Operation Hawk and has given me the green light to proceed.’
There was a cheer and Jane could see the excitement on people’s faces, as well as feel the buzz of anticipation as Bradfield paused briefly before continuing.
‘Sadly there has been no movement today, to or from any of the suspects’ premises. However, that doesn’t mean they’re on to us. On the contrary, after DS Gibbs’s uniform stint last night, I’m certain that the TSB is the target bank to be robbed via a tunnel from Silas Manatos’ café.’
He asked Gibbs to give them a run-down on what he had uncovered when visiting the café under the guise of a decoy burglary at Mannie Charles’ tailor shop.
‘Are we still on for the cut-price suits?’ an officer asked jokingly, causing a ripple of laughter around the room.
Gibbs smiled. ‘I’ll pay for the lot if we get a result on this job.’
Bradfield held his hand up to indicate that he wanted to get back to the serious matters.
‘We know the suspects weren’t at the café last night, but there could be all kinds of reasons for that. It’s unlikely they’ll work during daylight hours, or try to break into the bank vault while it’s open, so fingers crossed there’ll be some action tonight. We now have two good observation points in Great Eastern Street which give us an excellent view of the café and the bank, and the cream of the crop from Scotland Yard’s surveillance unit.’ He nodded at the scruffily dressed officers in jeans and tatty coats leaning against the back wall. He continued, ‘They will be doing the tails and manning those points along with myself, DS Gibbs and a selected few of you. As soon as this meeting is over the new observation points will be manned.’
Jane listened, impressed by Bradfield’s calmness and clarity as he outlined exactly which teams were to be in place, and where.
‘Will we be taking them out tonight, guv?’ a detective asked.
‘Only if we can be sure the targets are actually inside the bank and that is a decision the DCS supports. I appreciate we won’t know for sure from the ops, but we can see the back yard of the café from the rear of the shoe shop, so once they start loading the van with bags or sacks of their spoils we take ’em out then if need be. Given the amount of safety-deposit boxes in the vault it will take more than one run to load the spoils into their van. When that goes down the arrest team need to be on their guard. Make no bones about it, John Bentley and Danny Mitcham are nasty pieces of work and would take great delight in giving a copper a good kicking. Clifford Bentley may be old but I can assure you he’ll still know how to take care of himself in a stand-up fight.’
‘Truncheons won’t be much use to us then, guv,’ an officer said.
Bradfield gave a cynical smile. ‘Off the record, should any of you come by a spare pickaxe handle that just happened to be lying nearby then defend yourself as you see fit.’
‘The handles are already sorted,’ Gibbs leant over and whispered to him.
Bradfield told them that the DI in charge of the Yard surveillance unit had already given him the teams his officers were to work in, and which observation point or vehicle they would be in.
‘We will work on the Yard’s team radio frequency and I don’t want to hear anyone else but them or me making communication. They’ll be using coded communication, so if our suspects are monitoring police radios they won’t have a clue what’s being spoken about.’
DC Hudson asked how he would know what was being said and Bradfield explained that his CID officers would be paired up to work with the surveillance officers who would explain things, and when it came to making arrests the surveillance officers would not be involved in order to protect their identities.
He told his Hackney, and other local CID officers, that after the meeting DS Gibbs would read out who was working with who and at which location.
‘Any questions so far?’ Bradfield asked.
They came thick and fast and he had to keep instructing them to ask their questions in an orderly fashion.
A surveillance officer raised his hand and Bradfield pointed to him.
‘Do we have any intel that suggests the suspects might be armed?’
There was a sudden hush and there were a few worried looks. It was something that no one had as yet considered, even Bradfield, but he wasn’t going to admit it.
‘Good question – there is no intel about that, but my gut feeling is that they won’t be armed. This appears to be a tunnelling job as opposed to a “by the front door” armed bank robbery, and real guns aren’t the Bentleys’ style. I know that may not reassure all of you so I will instruct Duty Sergeant Harris to issue firearms from the safe to those of you who are authorized to use them. Let me be straight that using firearms is a last resort and they are only to be used if any of the suspects pulls a gun. The last thing I want is a gun fight at the corral, bullets flying around and an own goal where one of us gets shot by a colleague.’
A scruffily dressed undercover officer, who had long greasy hair and facial stubble, stuck up his hand. He was wearing woollen gloves with the fingers cut off, the wool in places unravelling as he had been pulling off strands throughout the meeting.
‘How we going about monitoring the suspects’ walkie-talkie communications?’
‘We have an expert on board, provided by DS Gibbs, who has equipment to monitor other radios in the vicinity.’
‘How does it work, guv?’ he asked.
Bradfield turned to Gibbs with a cheeky grin. ‘I think you’re best placed to answer any questions.’
‘Uh, well, it’s to do with amps, frequencies, megahertz, etc. All a bit complicated really so I won’t bore you with the details,’ Gibbs said, and looked at Bradfield as if to say, ‘Don’t you dare ask me to elaborate further.’
Another officer put his hand up. ‘I assume the bank must have an alarm? Surely if they try to get into the vault it will go off?’
‘If they attempt to open the vault door from the outside out of banking hours all hell will break loose with more bells ringing than a monastery. However, my bet is they have a good bell man on their team. The TSB manager thinks the bank is impenetrable but the thing is, if the alarms are down, it’s not. For any of you not familiar with the term “bell man”, it’s a villain’s term for someone who’s an expert electrician, especially when it comes to alarm systems. They know how to cut, bypass and disarm them without triggering the system. That’s why I think the former Army engineer and electrician Danny Mitcham is on the Bentleys’ team. He also trained with a bomb-disposal unit for two years.’
Bradfield gestured towards the mug shot of Mitcham, adding that he had been discharged from the Army for stealing electrical equipment and seriously assaulting the military policeman who tried to arrest him. He did not add that as yet they had no clarification that he was actually connected and it was simply his gut feeling.
‘You think they’ll be usin
g explosives?’
‘I doubt it. It’s a very confined space and too dangerous. Explosives were used by the gang that did the bank robbery two years ago, and the dust nearly choked them all.’
There were murmurs and nods of agreement about Mitcham as the same undercover officer asked the next question.
‘Did the DCS give any indication of how long Operation Hawk’s to run?’
‘It’s going to be for as long as it takes.’
‘Shit, that could be weeks, months even? Me granny’s knitted gloves’ll be shredded.’
‘We stay on this, and we wait. But my bet is they’ll be in the vault any day now.’
Again murmurs erupted and Bradfield had to quieten them down. This time Kath put her hand up.
‘It might be nothing, but WPC Tennison’s report from yesterday afternoon says she heard Renee Bentley ask the postmaster when some old £5 notes would no longer be legal tender.’
Gibbs shrugged. ‘It’s September this year and it’s the ones issued between 1963 and 1971 – they were the first issue with Queen Elizabeth’s head on. What’s strange about that?’
‘I don’t see Renee as someone who’d have a lot of old fivers stashed away for a rainy day. But a bank would, and she might just be asking about the fivers on behalf of her old man and sons. I mean, you don’t want to turn a bank over and have a few grand of fivers that will soon be worthless.’
Bradfield hadn’t read Jane’s report and he knew Kath had raised a valid point. He gave a cold glance towards Jane wondering why she hadn’t told him. She blushed and looked away.
‘Thank you, Kath, good point. But it can only be resolved by interviewing Renee and I can’t very well do that before arresting the rest of her family, can I?’
‘She also wanted to know about travel brochures for the US – strange when you think she’s probably never been further than Southend.’
Yet again Bradfield was caught off guard.
‘Yes, Kath, as I said it will all be noted down for the interviews. Right, let’s move on. DS Gibbs will read out your teams and surveillance positions, as well as call signs and vehicle allocations. Take note of who’s with who and their call signs. Don’t try and be smart by putting it to memory because when the action starts you’ll forget. I want you out there on the plot by half four at the latest. Do your job well and don’t let me down.’
It was a further half-hour before the meeting finished. Everyone filed out to go up to the canteen for takeaway refreshments before Operation Hawk got into full stride. Jane was about to leave with Kath when Bradfield gestured towards her.
‘Tennison, see me in my office.’
She started to put her chair back against the wall.
‘Leave the fucking chair,’ he growled, and stormed off.
She followed him into his office wondering if he was worked up over her surveillance report. Entering the room she saw DS Gibbs’s brother-in-law Frank, wearing headphones and twiddling the CB radio knobs. Bradfield was blunt and told him to take himself and his equipment to the incident room to play with. As soon as Frank closed the door Bradfield turned to face Jane and stood right in front of her.
‘Why the fuck didn’t you tell me Bentley’s mother was asking about soon-to-be illegal fivers?’
‘I did a full report for you yesterday, before I went back to the section house.’
‘If they know there’s a load of worthless fivers in the bank then someone with inside knowledge must have tipped the Bentleys off. I doubt it’s the bank manager, but it could be an employee. So if Dunbar goes spouting off to the rest of the staff about my visit and the Bentleys get to hear about it, then Operation Hawk is fucked.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t think . . . ’
‘No, you didn’t. My career’s on the line here and you don’t seem to care.’
‘I’d left my report in the filing tray and you took them all this morning to read, so I—’
‘You think I had time to check everything before the DCS arrived? Anyone with an ounce of common sense would have told me personally. Why didn’t you tell me last night when we were together in my room?’
She was so shocked by what he had just said that she didn’t know what to say, other than mutter that she was sorry as she fought hard to hold back the tears.
‘You’re off surveillance so stay in the incident room, man the radio and make sure everything is indexed and filed correctly. Now, get out of my office,’ he snapped furiously. As she turned to open the door he reached out and caught her arm.
‘Sorry I sounded off at you. I sometimes forget you’re still a probationer with a lot to learn. Just forget about it this time, but don’t ever let it happen again.’
She walked out, closing the door quietly behind her and feeling devastated. Not so much about being grounded, but by the way in which he had spoken to her. It hurt, and she felt as if she had let him down.
Jane was physically shaking and felt faint as she went downstairs to the ladies’ locker room. It was hard to understand Bradfield’s outburst after what had happened between them in his room the previous night. She chastised herself for being so oversensitive and crying. She knew she had made a big mistake and one that she would never forget, but she had learned a lesson – albeit the hard way.
Leaning over the metal sink she turned on the tap and splashed cold water over her face. As she patted it dry with a paper towel Kath banged in and flung her arms around her.
‘Oh listen, I am so sorry if I landed you in it with Bradfield at the meeting. I didn’t mean to, and if he gave you a bollocking I’ll have a chat with him. Are you all right?’ she said, seeing the sad look on Jane’s face.
‘I’m fine . . . he was actually quite good about it.’
‘Oh Christ, that’s a relief, because he’s working under such pressure I thought he might have torn a strip off you about Renee Bentley.’
‘I’ll get over it, Kath, don’t worry about me.’
Kath smiled. ‘Good for you, girl, but you’re my friend so I do worry. If anything’s ever bothering or upsetting you then I’m here for you, OK?’
Jane smiled and nodded.
Kath looked in the mirror, fluffed up her hair and then turned to Jane.
‘I’ve not been attached to anything so big and it’s more exciting than a murder inquiry for me. How about all those undercover guys? I’ve got the hots for one of them. It’s a massive operation and the guv will get a big promotion if we pull it off. Mind you, if it all goes tits up, he could be back in uniform directing traffic.’ She gave Jane a hug and sashayed to the door with her hands on her hips.
‘I’m like a lonely little rose waiting in the shade, I need your sunny smile,’ Kath sang, and saw that Jane looked confused. ‘“Climb Up The Wall” – it’s a song by Yana. I have to say, that Hebe Ide was a piece of work. But I reckon she’ll give me a good discount on a lovely pair of sling-backs.’ She started singing again as she walked out of the locker room.
Jane was at a loss as to who Yana was, but Kath’s excitement and enthusiasm were contagious. She hesitated briefly before taking a deep breath and heading back up to the incident room. It was strangely quiet as by now everyone on the team had left the station to take up their observation positions. Frank was hunched over a desk at the far end of the room still wearing headphones and twiddling knobs, and it almost made her laugh. He suddenly sat bolt upright and asked her to get Gibbs and Bradfield. She didn’t want to go anywhere near the DCI at present, so said that they had probably left the station. He frantically began turning various knobs and dials and Jane asked if there was anything she could do to help. He took off his headphones and threw them down on the table.
‘Thought I had something there for a second, but it was just static, I think. God, I wish I knew more about how these things work. I really need to use the bathroom – would you mind just keeping a listening ear for a minute or two?’
‘Oh fine, I don’t mind at all,’ Jane replied, and he left the room.
>
She sat in his very warm seat and put the headphones on. All she could hear was static crackles. Curiously twisting one of the dials, she was stunned as Janis Joplin began to sing her favourite song.
Take another little piece of my heart now, baby . . .
Wanting to get rid of the music she turned the dial a bit more and heard the sound of a rasping cough and a male voice trying to say something in between coughs. But she couldn’t make out what he was saying. Jane looked at the tape-recording deck that was connected to the machine but didn’t know how to turn it on.
She listened as the man coughing cleared his throat of phlegm and spoke in a croaky voice.
You hold this (cough cough) button down to talk like this, then (cough cough) when you finished say ‘over’ and release it to listen to the reply.
The coughing became worse and then there was a click and nothing but radio static. She turned in a panic as Frank reappeared and lifted one side of the headphones from her ear.
‘I’ve just heard a man’s voice. Sounded like he had a bad cold, and it was hard to make out what he was saying but I think he was telling someone how to use a two-way radio.’
‘Did you record it?’ Frank asked.
‘I didn’t know how to work the thing,’ she replied in a worried voice and passed back the headphones.
Frank twisted the dials back and forth and one of the sound-indicator arrows began to swing from left to right.
‘Nope, I just got static. Maybe something or nothing, so best we keep it between us as I left my post and it wasn’t recorded.’
Uneasily Jane agreed.
To appease David, who was acting like a petulant child, John had told him to show their dad how to work the walkie-talkie, little realizing they’d been overheard. With a temperature of 102 and a fever so bad he couldn’t get out of bed there was no way David could be lookout that night. Clifford joined John in the kitchen and they sat down to enjoy a saveloy-and-chip tea.
‘You gonna be OK? Did he show you how to use it?’ John asked.
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