‘So what happened?’
‘The confession evidence was ruled inadmissible by the judge. Luckily there was other evidence and the jury convicted.’
‘Well, take my advice, Jane: fixing or tampering with evidence or forensic results is never worth it. You could lose your job, pension, and even end up in prison. Gather the evidence and present your case with honesty and integrity, then let the jury make the final decision. Even then, you’ll lose some cases, but it’s all part of learning on the job. You move on to the next case.’
Jane liked working with Lawrence. When it came to honesty, he was above reproach, and as usual she was learning so much from him. Now Lawrence showed her two bits of different coloured wire under a double-microscope, which he told her was called a comparison microscope. He pointed out how the striation marks on each were identical, which meant the same cutters had been used on each wire.
Jane helped Lawrence for the rest of the day, dealing with the bits of wire and, piecing wires together. Apart from the time she’d watched Dexter disarm the fake bomb, it was the best experience she’d had at the lab so far.
Jane got home just after six, having stopped off to pick up a bottle of Saint-Nicolas-de-Bourgueil red wine on her way. She quickly changed into jeans and a T-shirt, then poured a cup of the wine over her pre-prepared sauce, ready to heat it up. She filled a pan with water to boil for the pasta. As she was laying out the cutlery and plates for dinner, Pearl appeared in the doorway to say that she was going to have a drink with her friend Eric, so Jane would have the flat to herself.
By seven fifteen, Jane felt confident that everything was ready. She applied some fresh makeup, combed her hair loose, and sprayed on her favourite perfume, Diorissimo by Dior. Just as she was coming out of the bathroom the doorbell rang. Jane pressed the intercom to open the main front door, and went out onto her landing to wait for Michael. Unlike most of her other visitors, he wasn’t gasping for breath and moved quickly up the stairs carrying a bottle of wine and a bunch of flowers.
‘Perfect timing!’ Jane said, as she ushered Michael into the flat.
‘These are for you,’ he said, handing her the flowers. He was wearing a tweed jacket with leather-patched elbows, over a polo neck sweater and jeans.
‘Thank you. I’m sorry, I don’t have a dining table so we’re eating in the kitchen. I’ve got a bottle open so come on through.’
Jane poured two glasses of wine and drew out the kitchen stools.
‘Cheers,’ Michael said, clinking his glass against hers. ‘I wasn’t sure what to wear, so I went for the casual look.’
Jane smiled, turning on the gas ring to heat up the sauce. ‘I should have got some salad… but I have some garlic bread which I’ll pop in the oven when everything is almost ready.’
‘Smells delicious.’
‘Do you cook?’ Jane asked.
‘Yes and no. To be honest I mostly eat in the canteen, and lately I’ve been on such long shifts that I’m completely exhausted by the time I get home.’
They chatted about how long she had been in the flat, as she busied herself at the cooker.
‘Do you live here on your own?’
‘No, I have a flatmate but she’s out for the evening. It’s obviously not really the sort of flat for entertaining, but it’s the first place I’ve owned.’
Jane made Michael laugh as she recounted her parents’ first visit when they were heaving for breath by the time they got to the top of the stairs, and then said they thought it was too small.
They drank more wine as the sauce began to simmer, but the water for the pasta was taking ages.
‘Maybe switch the pans over to different rings…’ Michael suggested, and got up to lift the water pan as she moved the sauce onto a lower small ring. She had turned on the oven ready to put in the garlic bread, and the heat in the kitchen was becoming uncomfortable.
‘I’ll open a window,’ he said. He squeezed past her to lean over the sink and opened the kitchen window a fraction. ‘There you go… that’s better.’
Jane was relieved when the water finally boiled and she gently lowered in the spaghetti, waiting for it to bend and soften in the pan. Michael perched on his stool as she peered into the pan. She was unsure exactly how long it was going to take to cook, and didn’t know when to put the bread in.
The front door banged open and Pearl walked in holding a carrier bag.
‘Sorry, Jane, Eric’s got a migraine. I won’t get in anybody’s way, but if I could just have a minute to peel some carrots for my tub of humus…’
Jane felt like throttling Pearl, but introduced her to Michael as she hung up her coat and squeezed past Jane to get to the sink with her bag of carrots.
‘I’m not cooking them… I just need to peel them so that I can dip them into my houmus.’
‘I think the pasta is ready,’ Jane said tersely.
‘You know the best way to tell? Take out a piece of it and throw it up onto the ceiling. If it sticks, it’s cooked!’ Pearl laughed, and began scraping her carrots.
Just as Jane was about to take the pan off the stove and drain the spaghetti, the phone rang. Michael volunteered to look after the pasta while Jane went into the hall to answer the phone.
‘Hello?’ she said angrily.
‘Jane dear, it’s Edith. I’ve not heard a peep out of you for so long, I was worried.’
‘I’m fine, thank you, Edith. In fact, I’m just about to serve dinner.’
‘Well, I won’t keep you. I just wanted to give you an update on my mother…’
Jane rolled her eyes up to the ceiling as Edith went into a lengthy description of her mother’s latest escape antics. In the kitchen Jane could hear Pearl laughing and Michael joining in. She was obviously throwing spaghetti up at the ceiling.
‘You see… perfectly cooked! Here, let me help you drain it. Pop a knob of butter in it, as it tastes much better. Why don’t you stir the sauce, as it’s bubbling? So, what do you do? Are you a detective like Jane?’
‘No, I’m a charge nurse at St Thomas’.’
‘Oh, a male nurse… that’s a new one on me. How do you know Jane?’
‘Through a patient we’re looking after. Do you remember the bomb at Covent Garden?’
‘Oh God, yes I do. I have to tell you that I was a bit worried when I first came here. You know Melcombe Street is very close to that awful siege in Balcombe Street? I work at Madame Tussauds, just around the corner from there. It was so dreadful because it went on for days… all the streets around here were cordoned off during the siege, but I never mentioned it to Jane. Have you put the garlic bread in yet? It needs to be wrapped in tin foil.’
Jane had heard enough and interrupted Edith mid-flow.
‘Edith, I really have to go. I’m sorry about your mother but I have to serve dinner, as I have a guest waiting.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, dear… I’ll call back another time.’
Just as Jane replaced the receiver the phone rang again. She was so frustrated she snatched it up. ‘Hello?’
‘It’s Daddy, darling… I’m just checking in as we haven’t heard from you for a while.’
‘I’m sorry, Daddy, could I call you back?’
‘I just wanted to see if you’re coming over for Saturday lunch? As you know we’ll be leaving for Harwich on Sunday for our cruise and your mother and I wanted to see you before we went.’
Jane heard Michael offering Pearl a glass of wine and quickly told her father that she would be there for lunch on Saturday, then hung up.
Pearl had a small plastic tray with a plate of peeled carrots, a pot of humus and a glass of wine.
‘I think we’ve sort of got it all ready for you,’ she said, smiling at Michael.