‘I understand. I really just need to walk for a while.’
‘I’ll call you.’
Jane took off walking briskly across Westminster Bridge. By now, it was nearly eleven and cold, with a sharp wind from the river. She knew she should have phoned for police transport to take her home, but she wanted to be alone and she couldn’t believe she was in any real danger. Her mind was churning: she had now become the only witness. One moment she felt almost panic-stricken but then she quickened her pace again, feeling angry at the waste of lives the bomb had caused. She passed the Houses of Parliament, Big Ben’s clock face looming in the moonlight as she pulled her jacket tightly around her. As she headed towards Westminster tube station she could see the bars were across the entrance: it was closed. She had no option but to keep walking towards the bus stop and hoped the next night bus wouldn’t be too long
Fifteen minutes later she was thankful to see the brightly-lit red double-decker bus heading towards her stop. There were few passengers travelling so late. She took a lower-level window seat, opening her purse to show the bus conductor her warrant card.
The bus seemed to take forever heading across Trafalgar Square, round Nelson’s Column, and left into Charing Cross Road. Late as it was, the streets were thronging with people, mostly young. All the theatres along Charing Cross Road were closed, shows over. As they passed Oxford Street she glanced at her wristwatch. Midnight. It felt as if she was never going to get home.
The bus stopped next to Foyles on Charing Cross Road and Jane was surprised as to how many passengers were getting on. Two drunk young men began to argue with the bus conductor. That was when Jane saw Regina on the corner of Manette Street. The bus was just about to move off when Jane hurried down the aisle and jumped down from the platform. Jane was familiar with the area from a previous case involving a search for a prostitute, and knew she was heading into the red-light district. This is where she had checked out all the strip clubs and porn shops. She saw Regina turning right off the narrow dark road into Greek Street. Greek Street was packed with small lit-up cafés and restaurants and way up ahead of her she could see Regina pushing and shoving aside anyone in her way. She was wearing a cheap white PVC jacket, mini skirt and very high platform boots. Jane was shocked as she watched her approach a car and lean in, but she swiftly moved away. Five minutes later she approached another man and did the same thing. Jane had seen enough. She strode towards Regina, grabbed her by her arm and pushed her against the wall.
‘What do you think you are doing?’
The driver from the last car, in a red Cortina, swore at Jane and told her to mind her own fucking business. Still gripping Regina’s arm tightly, Jane turned to the driver. ‘I’m a detective with the Metropolitan Police. This girl is underage. Do you want to be arrested with her?’
He drove off fast. Jane now grabbed Regina’s other arm, pinning her up against the wall. She didn’t struggle and Jane only needed one look at her face to see she was out of her head.
‘Do you know who I am? Do you remember me?’
Regina nodded. ‘I know you.’
‘Where is your brother?’
‘He go home.’
‘We tried to help you. I want to help you now.’
‘You no help me, you give me right back to him.’
Jane was so intent on Regina she didn’t see the Cortina reversing and stopping directly behind her. The driver got out and was moving close to Jane. Regina punched her, causing her to stumble back into the man. To Jane’s stunned amazement DS Stanley appeared just as Regina vanished down an alley between the buildings.
‘Get in the car, Tennison,’ Stanley snapped, opening the passenger door.
She didn’t have much choice. He pushed her roughly from behind into the back seat of the car. He got in beside her, slamming the door. They drove off fast.
‘We just lost Regina Hernandez,’ Stanley said into the radio. ‘She’s in Greek Street. Could be heading towards you.’
The driver did a U-turn in Old Compton Street, speeding back to the north end of Greek Street in time for Jane to see other undercover Vice Squad officers herding girls out of a club. Jane recognised some of the girls from the passports they’d found in the Shepherd’s Bush raid.
Stanley gave her a dismissive look. ‘Stay in the car, Tennison. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do. Vice were just bringing the girl in and you screwed it up.’
‘Oh my God, Stanley… I am so sorry.’
‘What the hell are you doing out at this time of night in the red-light district?’
‘I was on a bus coming back from the hospital. Daphne Millbank died. And I saw Regina in the street.’
Stanley stared out of the window as the Vice Squad officers led two more girls were from the club. He knew the old lady’s death was going to cause bigger problems for Jane.
‘Listen, you take a taxi home. I’ll do what I can to iron this situation out. The plus side is that your information about Hernandez and the Playboy Club meant that Vice Squad were able to dig up his contacts. They busted two of his seedy businesses tonight, bringing in the Dip Squad to assist.’
‘Regina said that we didn’t protect her. We sent her back to her uncle.’
‘Yeah well, we weren’t to know, luv. Turns out he’s got contacts at the Colombian Embassy. We’ve got him now, thanks to Regina. Let’s hope we find her before one of Andres’ henchmen does.’
Chapter Fifteen
After a fitful night’s sleep, Jane got dressed for work. She was in a bad mood and very irritated when she saw Pearl had left dirty dishes in the sink.
‘You left all your carrot peelings by the sink,’ she snapped, ‘and your used plates.’
‘Well, how could I clear up when it was full of your bolognese mess?’ Pearl replied equally shortly. ‘But don’t get bad-tempered… if we do it together it’ll be done before I have to go to work.’
‘I have to go to work as well!’ Jane retorted.
Together they washed and dried the dishes, and Pearl wiped over the counters. She then threw the dishcloth towards the sink.
‘Right, all done and dusted. I’ve got to put some make-up on, then I’m off… if that’s all right with you?’
Jane rinsed out the dishcloth that Pearl had thrown over to the sink.
‘Thank you… I’m sorry I was so bad-tempered. I was late getting home last night, and I couldn’t sleep.’
‘How was the patient?’ Pearl asked, hovering in the kitchen doorway.
‘She died. It was very sad… she was a wonderful old lady.’
‘What did she die of?’
‘She was badly injured in the Covent Garden explosion.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry… Michael did tell me, now I think of it. I liked him. And he’s very attractive.’
Pearl went back into her bedroom, as Jane glanced over the now clean kitchen. She washed her hands in the bathroom and ran a comb through her hair before going into her bedroom to get dressed. She opened her wardrobe to take out a clean shirt, and then pursed her lips. She knew that last night she had carefully pushed back the hangers either side of the Chanel dress, as she wanted to let the creases drop from the frilly skirt. The dress was now squashed back alongside her other clothes.
Jane banged open her bedroom door catching Pearl just about to leave.
‘You were in my room again! You can’t deny it because you moved my clothes in the wardrobe.’
‘Oh yeah… I needed the hairdryer. I was just looking in the wardrobe for it, sorry. But that dress is just gorgeous. Bye for now…’
Pearl hurried out, leaving Jane to stew in her anger. She quickly got into her work clothes and was just about to leave when the doorbell rang. She didn’t press the entry buzzer as she thought it might be the postman, so she hurried down to the main front door.