‘Christ, that’s disgusting. I read about it in the papers today. I never brought it up with her, though. I know she was there when the bomb exploded, but do you really think she could be in danger?’
‘Who knows? We’ve had no further contact from the IRA, and I would say they’ve gone underground — which is not a pun about them bombing Covent Garden bloody underground station…’
‘Have you been over there?’
‘Course I have… got to go back later. Just came over to see how the lab’s doing at piecing together the bomb fragments. Be handy to know its construction in case we need to diffuse any others this bomber plants.’
Lawrence acknowledged Dexter’s comment with a nod. Dexter ate his steak & kidney pie quickly and moved on to a bowl of sticky syrup pudding swimming in custard. Lawrence sipped his coffee, feeling ill just watching the speed at which Dexter was eating.
‘Why do you eat so quickly?’
‘I’m hungry… I was up at the crack of dawn. So, are you trying to pull Tennison?’
‘No, I am not!’
‘Jimmy Church was looking after her last night.’
‘My God! Don’t tell me he’s after her?’
‘I meant he arranged her protection… he got Stanley to house-sit in her flat.’
Despite his concern for Jane, Lawrence couldn’t help laughing. The infamous scruffy Stanley had never been one of his favourite undercover officers. Before he could question Dexter further, Jane returned.
‘I don’t think your food is going to be very appetising now. Let me get you something else,’ Dexter offered.
‘No, thank you… I’m fine. I’m not that hungry, and I suppose I should really be getting back to the lab.’
‘What time are you leaving?’ Dexter asked, and Lawrence raised his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Just wondered if you wanted to have some better food this evening?’ Dexter scraped the last of the custard from his bowl.
‘Oh, I would have liked to but I’ve got someone coming to see me about renting a room in my flat.’
‘OK, well… maybe another time. Are you here tomorrow?’
‘Yes, for the next few weeks, I think. I’ll just have to wait to be told.’
Dexter pushed back his chair as he wiped his mouth with a paper napkin.
‘OK, I’m off… Good to see you, Paul, and maybe I’ll see you tomorrow, Jane.’
She smiled as he walked off and Lawrence shook his head.
‘Bit of advice, Jane: I’d steer well clear of him. He may be good at defusing bombs, but he’s got a bad reputation when it comes to women. Thinks he’s God’s gift to the opposite sex. If you like, I can run you home tonight… I’ve got my car.’
Jane hesitated and then leaned forwards. ‘So have I… it’s the yellow VW and it was my car that Crowley was moaning about being parked in the wrong bay. I just went out to move it.’
Lawrence laughed. ‘Good for you! Where are you living? You said you had a new flat?’
‘I’m actually not that far from you… in Melcombe Street, near the Baker Street entrance to Regent’s Park. Are you still living in the mews there?’
‘Yes…’ He paused. ‘Well, another time. I can pick you up and we can come into the lab together.’
‘Let me give you my phone number.’
Jane jotted it down in her notebook, tore out the page and handed it to Lawrence. As they left the canteen together she felt rather flattered. First she’d had attention from the ‘ladies’ man, Dexter, and now Lawrence.
Later that day, as she was signing out, she saw DCI Crowley waiting for her. At first Jane thought he was going to reprimand her for parking her car in a reserved space, but he didn’t mention it. Instead he asked her how she had found her first day, and hoped it would prove to be a good experience for her. He didn’t wait for her to reply.
‘As far as your safety’s concerned we haven’t received any threats or warnings.’
‘Well, sir, I doubt that the IRA would give a warning if they were going to murder someone!’
‘This is no joking matter, Tennison… far from it. You need to be watchful and take precautions, and ensure that we are always aware of your movements.’
‘Yes, sir. Am I to come back here in the morning?’
‘No, not immediately… That’s also why I wanted to have a word with you. The old woman you tended to after the explosion has been identified. Her full name is Daphne Millbank and she has come out of her coma. As you have a connection with her I want you to visit her at the hospital tomorrow morning and talk over what she may be able to add to your statement. I have people there, and DS Dexter will also be with you. Afterwards he’ll take you over to Covent Garden underground station and walk you through exactly what happened and then I’ll see you back here.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Right, off you go… and remember to take precautions. Just be wary of anyone you don’t know contacting you, and keep a low profile until we can ascertain our position.’
As Crowley watched Jane walking away, he hitched up his trousers. There had been no communication from the terrorists since they had claimed responsibility; the press release had not flushed them out. Everything suggested they had gone to ground, but after years of experience on the bomb squad, he knew not to trust the quiet after the explosion. Jane was still in danger.
Chapter Eight
Jane had been caught up in heavy traffic and didn’t arrive home until after seven. She parked her car in a space a short walk from her flat and as soon as she got inside she called Pearl Radcliff to say that she was at home if she wanted to come over to view the room. She had a quick bath and put on some casual clothes before checking the spare room to make sure that it was immaculate after Stanley’s stay. As she was making herself a cup of tea the doorbell rang. Jane went to the intercom.
‘Who is it? she asked.
‘It’s Pearl Radcliff.’
Remembering the advice about being cautious, Jane asked her to wait for a moment. She went into her bedroom and looked out of the window onto the street below. She could see a woman standing on her own by the front door and went back to the intercom.
‘Come up to the top floor,’ Jane said, pressing the door entry button and replacing the receiver.
She opened the front door to her flat and waited as Pearl came slowly up the stairs. As she appeared on the small landing, Jane greeted her.
‘Hello, I’m Jane Tennison. Could I ask to see some identification?’
Pearl was a slim young woman, with short bobbed hair in a Mary Quant style. She was wearing a green beret and a dark green overcoat, and was slightly out of breath. She smiled at Jane.
‘Quite a way up, isn’t it? Will my driving licence be enough? I’ve got my passport as well, but I’ve never been asked to show it before… hold on a moment.’
Pearl rooted around in her large leather shoulder bag and then produced her driving license and passport for Jane to look at.
‘Sorry if this sounds a bit officious, but it’s just for security purposes.’ Jane glanced at the licence in Pearl’s wallet, then handed it back.
‘Please come in.’
Pearl followed Jane into the flat as she shut the door behind them.
‘I’ll just show you around first,’ Jane said, ‘and if it’s to your liking we can talk over a cup of tea. It’s obviously not a large flat… The bathroom’s here, and then this is my bedroom. The room for rent is this one.’
Pearl said nothing as she followed Jane. She peered into Jane’s bedroom, then went into the small bedroom and walked around, looking inside the fitted wardrobe and the small chest of drawers, which had a mirror and glass tray on the top.
‘Well, that’s it,’ Jane said. ‘Apart from the kitchen.’ As Pearl had not said a word she couldn’t tell whether she liked the room or not. She walked into the kitchen. ‘Fridge, washing machine and cooker are all new.’