‘Excuse me, I need to speak to Sister Mitchell.’
‘You’re talking to him… I’m the charge nurse. What can I do for you?’
‘I accompanied a lady called Daphne here this morning. Her leg was severely injured in this morning’s bombing. I’m trying to find out how she is.’
Mitchell glanced down a page on his clipboard and turned it over.
‘I’ve got an elderly woman called Daphne who sadly had to have her leg amputated. She’s currently in a drug-induced coma in the intensive care unit. We have no surname for her yet… Are you a relative?’
‘No, I’m a police officer, WDC Tennison.’ Jane showed him her warrant card. ‘I was with Daphne at the time of the explosion. Would it be possible for me to see her?’
Mitchell beckoned her to follow him to the ward of curtained cubicles. He eased back the curtain of one of the middle beds. Jane was shocked to see just how small and frail Daphne looked. She had breathing tubes in her mouth and nose, a drip attached to her left arm and a protective cage over her injured leg.
‘And you didn’t find any ID on her?’ Jane asked.
‘No, nothing… we know her only as Daphne. No one has made any enquiries about her… Only time will tell if she’ll survive.’ Mitchell waved his arm, taking in the ward. ‘We’ve got a lot more victims in a really bad condition.’
Jane could hear moans and sounds of weeping from the curtained cubicles. As they stood looking down at the old woman, who seemed so vulnerable and tiny, a voice made them turn.
‘Excuse me… I need to talk to the doctor in charge here.’ A tall man wearing slacks, an open-necked shirt and a tweed jacket, stood behind them. He was a big man, with a tough, square-jawed face and broad shoulders.
‘I think they’re all tied up just now… Are you a relative of one of the patients?’
‘No.’ The man peered past Jane. ‘Is that elderly woman one of the bomb victims?’
Jane moved from the bedside, astonished at the man’s rudeness.
‘Yes, she is, and she’s in a coma.’
‘Who are you?’ He glared at Jane.
Offended by his brusque manner Jane showed him her warrant card.
‘I’m WDC Jane Tennison. Can I ask who you are?’
He gave a cursory look at Jane’s warrant card before he took out his own.
‘I’m Detective Chief Inspector Crowley, Bomb Squad.’ He moved towards her. ‘What can you tell me about this woman?’
‘I only know her first name’s Daphne. I accompanied her from the underground station in the ambulance. I believe she may have seen the man who planted the bomb.’
‘Why wasn’t I told earlier about this witness?’ he bellowed.
‘Please keep your voice down,’ said Mitchell.
‘You a nurse, are you?’ Crowley asked abruptly.
‘Yes, I’m the charge nurse on this ward and patient care is my responsibility. So, please let me show you where you can continue your conversation.’
He ushered them into a small side room with a couple of easy chairs and a coffee table. Crowley stood with his back to the window, which had a green blind drawn over it, as Jane sat down in one of the comfortable chairs. Mitchell remained standing by the door, which he left slightly ajar. He spoke quietly as he gave the details of the old lady’s condition.
‘How long will it be before I can talk to Daphne?’ Crowley said brusquely.
‘I’m afraid I’m unable to say. You will need to speak to a doctor.’
‘I want her moved to a private room as soon as possible. Go and talk to whoever necessary to find out when I can speak to her.’
Mitchell nodded and walked out, shutting the door behind him. Crowley opened a notebook, flicking over pages.
‘So far, we’ve got a host of injured people unable to give detailed accounts, but one witness heard an old woman shouting about a rucksack being left unattended—’
‘That was Daphne, sir. I was standing almost beside her when she first called out about the rucksack. I believe she saw the suspect leaving it.’
Crowley sat down in the other chair. For a moment it appeared that he could hardly take on board what Jane had said. When he spoke, his voice was very quiet, clipped and unnerving.
‘You believe she saw the suspect leaving it?’
Frightened by his manner, Jane nodded.
‘Right… Start from the top, will you?’
‘Have the IRA claimed responsibility?’ Jane asked.
‘Not yet. There was no coded warning prior to the bomb exploding but it has all the hallmarks of an IRA attack. So, tell me exactly what you were doing at Covent Garden station.’
Crowley had exceedingly thick, bushy eyebrows and small, thick-lashed piercing blue eyes. He stared at Jane without blinking as she nervously began to explain exactly what had happened to her that morning.
Almost as soon as she’d started, Crowley held up a finger for her to stop speaking. ‘So, you were intending to have breakfast at Bow Street police station where you were previously stationed with a colleague? Your intention was to then continue to the Magistrates Court?’
‘Yes, sir, which is why I was at Covent Garden station.’
‘Right,’ he said curtly. ‘We now have you at 8.30 a.m. at Covent Garden underground station.’
‘Yes, sir, I was heading up the stairs—’
Again he held up his finger. ‘Why were you on the stairs?’
‘Because we were told on the platform that the lifts were out of order.’
‘So, you are moving up the stairs at Covent Garden underground station…’
Crowley’s unflinching eyes bored into her as he gestured for her to continue. Jane’s mouth was dry as she described helping the mother and baby up the staircase.
‘I was looking in my handbag to show my warrant card to the ticket collector when I heard a woman’s voice calling out to a man that he had left his rucksack. That was Daphne.’
Crowley pursed his lips, ‘So are you saying that Daphne had a good sighting of the suspect and may possibly be able to recognise him again?’
‘Yes, I believe so.’
Now Crowley really unnerved her as he clenched his fists. ‘Why the hell didn’t you inform the Bomb Squad earlier about such a vital witness?’
‘I wasn’t sure if she’d got much of a look at him. That’s why I came back to try to see her. She was unconscious in the ambulance, so I couldn’t question her then. I told a uniformed PC that I was accompanying her to the hospital and I assumed the information had been passed on. When I left earlier I had to go to Bow Street Magistrate’s Court regarding a two-hander, but when I got there it was closed. So, I made way to the Dip Squad office, and—’
Crowley interrupted her. ‘Yes, yes… no need to go into details about where you were, or what you did afterwards. What’s important is whether you saw the same suspect?’
‘Yes, but I only had a side view. I did go after the suspect to stop him. I caught his sleeve and said I was a police officer, but he pushed me away and ran on.’
‘Christ! Why the hell didn’t you report this before now? If we’d known at the outset then we might have had got some vital information, like the suspect’s bloody description…’
‘I’m sorry… I was still in shock. All I can remember is that he had dark stubble, and dark hair, and was wearing a thick, greyish raincoat. But it was just a flash really… I mean, I didn’t see his whole face—’
‘Yes, all right… but you should have contacted the Bomb Squad at the earliest opportunity. We’ll need a full statement from you about exactly what you saw, as well as the old lady’s possible closer look. It’d help if we knew exactly who she is.’
‘She told me at the scene her name was Daphne, but there was no ID on her when she was brought in. Her clothing must be here somewhere, so we can check that to see if the hospital missed anything. Maybe her handbag will be found in the debris…’