‘More than I care to think about,’ he replied, returning to sit beside her. He gave her a side on look. ‘You were stationed at Hackney when that explosion happened, weren’t you? That’s one I’ll never forget… that terrible scene around the bank vault. What made it a lot harder was the fact that two fellow officers were killed. It was impossible to tell who was who from their charred remains. Once it became clear it wasn’t an IRA job, we withdrew and let the locals deal with the aftermath.’
Although it had been three years ago, Jane had never known what state the bodies had been in inside the bank. She still felt emotional whenever she remembered Kath Morgan and Len Bradfield, but it didn’t hurt as much as it had just after the explosion. It was as if the bomb at Coven Garden had helped exorcise some of those demons. More than anything she now realised that death could result from simply ‘being in the wrong place at the wrong time’.
The door banged open as Crowley returned. He handed Jane a signed authorisation to work at the Forensics Explosives Laboratory.
‘I’ve spoken with the senior scientist at Woolwich Arsenal and they are expecting you at nine tomorrow morning. Now, you’d better wait in the canteen. I’ll send someone to collect you when the press conference begins.’
Dexter stood up, waiting for her to stand. ‘It won’t be long, I’ll see you up there in a minute.’
Jane felt as if both Crowley and Dexter were impatient for her to leave. She didn’t know exactly where the lab in Woolwich was, but decided it was best to ask for the details later.
As soon as the door closed behind her, Crowley sat at his desk and nodded to Dexter.
‘So, what do you think?’ Crowley asked.
‘Well, I laid it on thick about the IRA cell and trusting her with sensitive information, et cetera, so she must be aware of what scum the IRA are and how important an ID will be.’
‘Yeah, well I hope to Christ she doesn’t back down… especially after that situation with the Balcombe Street ASU. Their defence barristers are throwing a lot of shit at us and saying that we beat a confession out the wrong guys for the Guildford and Woolwich pub bombs.’
‘Shit, give me a break! The politicians and top brass wanted a quick result, and we got it for them. They confessed, so the end justified the means.’
‘I know that. If the old girl in hospital croaks, Tennison is all we’ve got to ID the suspect… She’ll be our only useful witness.’
‘We both know the man in the surveillance photograph is part of the ASU, but we need to keep our fingers crossed that the old lady survives. She’ll be a lot easier to persuade into making a positive ID of our man than Tennison.’
Crowley opened a drawer and took out a file.
‘This is WDC Tennison’s police file. She’s a blue-eyed girl, trustworthy. She’s has never been in any trouble… plus she has a Commissioner’s Commendation. In my opinion, if we can influence her to make a positive ID on the man in the photo, the case is cut and dried… it won’t even matter if he denies it in interview.’
Dexter read through the report as Crowley rocked back in the chair.
‘Did she sign her statement?’
‘Yep, it’s in front of you.’
‘She wasn’t aware of the addition?’
‘No, but I doubt she’ll remember if she did or didn’t say it. I deliberately kept it long-winded. I even allowed her to check it over, but she just skimmed through it.’
Crowley picked up the pages and flicked through them, reading. After a while he looked up and smiled, quoting, ‘ “I think I might recognise him if I saw him again…” Good, that’s good. I hope to Christ she doesn’t challenge it in court. I want you to keep up the Mr Nice Guy act. Get closer to her, take her out and get her on our side.’
‘OK if I shag her?’
‘If your girlfriend doesn’t mind.’
‘She’s long gone. How about hypnosis?’
‘I’m sure you can get her into bed without resorting to that.’
‘Ha ha, very funny. I meant we could use hypnosis to try to trigger a better recollection of the event from her. If it works, we don’t need to manipulate her into saying what we want.’
‘Let’s see how we go with the artist’s impression.’
Crowley looked at his watch, and then back to Dexter. He waved his hand in front of his face.
‘Jesus, those filthy cigars stink! I’m going to get a call any minute about the press conference. Give the hospital a ring and see how the old girl is.’
Dexter shrugged and handed back Jane’s police file. Crowley flicked through it while Dexter put in a call to the hospital to enquire about Daphne. He was relieved to be told that she was still alive, although she hadn’t woken from the coma. The hospital had now identified her from a handbag found in the debris at Covent Garden station. It contained her pension book with a library identification card and some photographs. Her name was Daphne Millbank, a widow aged seventy-five, but they hadn’t yet been able to contact any living relatives.
Dexter informed Crowley, who then picked up the phone, patted it with the flat of his hand, dialled an internal number and waited before it was connected.
‘Is the artist’s sketch of the suspect bomber ready? I need it before the press conference…’ He put the phone down.
‘They’re bringing a copy up now,’ he told Dexter. ‘Go buy Tennison a coffee in the canteen… sweet-talk her out of any nerves. I’ll come up to get you both when it’s time for the press conference.’
There was a knock on the door. A uniformed officer entered and handed Crowley a large manila envelope. As the officer left, Crowley looked at Dexter and tapped the envelope in his hand.
‘This will lead us to the man we want. We get him and we’ll get the whole ASU.’
Dexter didn’t look so confident. ‘Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?’
‘Like you said, Dexter… the end will justify the means.’
Chapter Seven
Dexter joined Jane in the canteen. He tried to reassure her but she was apprehensive, constantly looking towards the double doors, waiting for Crowley to call her to the press conference.
‘You’ve got the press statement, the one Crowley made out for you?’ he asked, trying to cheer her up. ‘Maybe just skim over it, so that you feel confident. And put some more sugar in your coffee. It’ll give you an energy boost.’
Jane added two heaped spoons of sugar to the milky coffee and stirred it.
‘There’ll be a lot of press and cameras in there, but don’t be nervous. You want to make the public understand the carnage at the scene, just like you did when I took down your full statement, all right?’
He gently patted her shoulder, taking a sneaky look towards the canteen entrance.
‘OK, he’s here…’
Crowley gestured for them to follow him, disappearing back out of the doors as Dexter and Jane both got up from the table.
‘I need the loo…’ Jane said.
‘There’s a gents off the canteen corridor… I’ll stand guard outside for you.’ Dexter drew her chair back as she picked up her bag and the statement.
Halfway down the corridor they stopped for her to pop into the gents. She went into one of the cubicles alongside the urinals and locked the door behind her. She felt as if she was going to be sick, and had to take deep breaths.
Crowley went to the conference room. While Dexter waited outside the toilet for Jane he was approached by DCI Church.
‘Where is she?’ Church asked.
‘Taking a leak.’
‘For a moment there I thought she might have got cold feet and left.’
‘No, she’s up for it and remarkably calm under the circumstances.’