Beale smiled good-humouredly. ‘So you do recognize me?’
She shrugged. ‘Whatever. Any court will agree that it’s unreasonable to surround a woman in the middle of the night when all you want to do is ask her questions. I’ll make an appointment to talk to you tomorrow.’
‘Can’t do that, I’m afraid. Would the presence of a woman constable set your mind at rest?’
He watched her made a quick calculation in her head as she tested her options. ‘Not if it means I have to stand out here waiting for her. I’m cold and I’m tired and I need to sit down.’
Beale held up his mobile again. ‘We can sort this very quickly if you dial 999 now, Ms Morley. I understand your concerns, but we believe you have information that will assist our inquiry.’
‘I don’t even know what inquiry you’re talking about.’
‘An elderly gentleman was assaulted outside his home in Bermondsey last Friday.’
She looked at him in surprised disbelief, her huge eyes widening like a little girl’s. ‘You mean the old chap who was taken to hospital? How would I know anything about that? What time did it happen?’
Her surprise seemed genuine, thought Beale. ‘Midday.’
‘Then I wasn’t even in Bermondsey. I left here at about eleven-thirty to meet a friend for lunch in central London.’
Beale smiled pleasantly. ‘No one’s suggesting you were involved in the attack, Ms Morley. The questions relate to certain items that may be connected to the inquiry. We believe they were in your possession at one time.’
‘What items?’
‘I have photographs to show you.’ He gestured towards the front door of her block. ‘May we come inside?’
There was something very wrong inside her flat, he thought, judging by the way she kept computing different courses of action. She tried a tired smile. ‘I can’t do it tonight,’ she said, placing a slender hand against her belly. ‘I’ve been having really bad period pains for two hours. I’m sure my solicitor would say it’s unfair to question me under those circumstances.’ She offered him the wide, innocent gaze again. ‘I truly am perfectly willing to come to the police station later.’
‘Is that a refusal to cooperate, Ms Morley?’
‘Only on the grounds that what you’re asking is unreasonable.’
‘Then you leave me no choice but to invoke stop and search powers, Ms Morley. DCs Wagstaff and Hicks of Southwark East police station—’
The change in her demeanour was immediate. Her face blazed with sudden fury. ‘That’s a cheap threat,’ she broke in angrily. ‘I’ve given you no reason at all to suspect me of carrying illegal drugs.’
‘A suspect can be stopped and searched on the basis of a tip-off, Ms Morley. Shortly before midnight a man called Lemarr Wilson, also known as Duane Stewart, was taken into custody. He made a statement which leads us to believe you are in possession of a class-A drug. DC Wagstaff will explain your rights before the search commences.’
‘You’re lying.’
‘He gave a very good description of a woman who bought five hundred milligrams of cocaine off him at around eight-thirty last night. He knows you as Cass.’ Beale smiled slightly. ‘You’re very distinctive-looking, Ms Morley. Too distinctive. I saw you myself after you’d made the purchase. That’s what led us to Lemarr Wilson.’
Something like fear flickered in her eyes, but she made an effort to compose herself. ‘I’ll answer your questions at the station. That’s what you came for, isn’t it?’
Beale ignored her. ‘Should a class-A drug be found on your person, Ms Morley, you will be arrested. In addition, your premises will be searched under the extended powers that such an arrest allows.’
‘I can refuse to be searched by men,’ she hissed. ‘You should have brought a woman with you.’
‘You only half know your law, Ms Morley. Nevertheless –’ he raised his hand and beckoned to a passenger in his car – ‘WPC Barnard will conduct the inspection as soon as you’ve placed your bag and the contents of your pockets on the ground in front of you and stepped away from them.’
Jen watched the woman police officer approach and a smile suddenly transformed her face. ‘Hi,’ she said with easy friendliness. ‘I’m sorry about this. I didn’t much fancy being patted down by your male colleagues.’
The WPC, who was carrying a small holdall, came to a halt beside Beale. She was a sturdy forty-year-old with fifteen years’ service and she eyed Jen with amusement. ‘Each to his own,’ she said lightly. ‘In your shoes I’d have chosen the men. Same-sex searches are a lot more thorough.’
Beale nodded to DC Wagstaff to read Jen her rights. When the officer had finished, the DI said, ‘Everything on the ground, please, Ms Morley, including the object in your hand.’
Jen uncurled her palm to look at it. ‘It’s only a rape alarm.’ She opened her leather shoulder bag, put the device inside it, along with a tissue from a pocket, then pressed the flap closed and lowered the bag to the pavement. ‘That’s all there is,’ she said, stepping backwards.
The WPC eyed her for a moment, then knelt down and took a square of plastic sheeting from the holdall, which she unfolded on to the pavement. She snapped on some gloves and, using a foot-long grab-stick to hook the strap, she dragged the bag on to the sheeting.
‘Most of these guns are effective through heavy clothing,’ she told Beale, ‘so leather won’t prevent an accidental discharge.’ Avoiding the metal catch, she caught the edge of the flap between the grab-stick claws and flipped it open to expose the contents. ‘It’s definitely a stun gun,’ she confirmed. ‘This one’s called a Small Fry and packs a million volts. The red light means it’s primed and ready to go.’ She leaned away to allow Beale to look over her shoulder.
‘How do you turn it off?’
‘There should be a switch at the side – but it’ll be safer if I empty everything on to the sheeting. I don’t fancy sticking my hand in and hoping for the best . . . even to amuse Ms Morley.’
She grasped the edge of the sheeting and gave it a flick, tumbling the bag towards Jen. As the stun gun fell out, a deafening, high-pitched electrical siren screamed into the night air. The woman grinned as Jen jumped backwards. ‘Most guys with any sense do a runner the minute they hear the siren,’ she said, stretching forward to flick the switch. ‘The ones who don’t end up on the floor for ten minutes.’
Using her grab-stick, she caught the bottom of the leather bag and upended the rest of the contents over the sheeting. From among the detritus, she isolated an empty biro tube and a small gilt compact. ‘No imagination,’ she said, popping the catch and showing Beale the white powder inside. ‘Nine times out of ten, women disguise their stash as cosmetics.’
She stood up and beckoned Jen forwards. ‘Legs apart and arms out to the side, please. When I’m satisfied that you have nothing else in your clothing, you will be taken to a police station, where you may be asked to undergo a more intimate search.’
For a moment, Jen looked as if she was about to comply with the woman’s brisk, no-nonsense manner, then she abruptly raised an open hand to slap her. This time the WPC’s smile was dismissive as she easily caught the swinging hand and twisted it behind the girl’s back. ‘I told you you should have chosen one of the men,’ she murmured, grabbing Jen’s other hand and snapping on a pair of handcuffs. ‘They might just have been fool enough to take that.’
*
Acland was awake the second time Jackson went to check on him. He was sitting cross-legged in the corner of the bed, his back resting against the wall, and he nodded as she appeared in the open doorway of the cell. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said simply. ‘What for?’ ‘Everything . . . the damage to your car . . . the duffel bag . . . involving you again. It wasn’t fair on you or your patients.’ Jackson leaned her shoulder against the jamb and folded her arms. ‘Then why did you do it? I don’t even have a car at the moment. It’s been towed to a lab for forensic examination.’ ‘Sorry.’ He made a move to stand up. ‘Would you like to sit down?’ ‘No, thanks . . . and don’t keep saying sorry. It’s the most infuriating word in the English language. Just a cheap way to behave badly, then shelve responsibility by putting the onus on the other person to be forgiving.’ He knew her well enough by now to know that her bark was worse than her bite. ‘It wasn’t deliberate,’ he said. ‘I got stuck with the damn bag and I didn’t know what to do with it.’ ‘Why didn’t you hand it in to the nearest police station? That’s what a normal person would have done.’