‘Morning, Tennison.’ DCI Church was standing on the pavement. She looked at him with trepidation, certain he was there because of the fiasco the previous night.
‘I wasn’t expecting you, sir.’
‘So it would seem. And you didn’t check who it was before you opened the door. Now Daphne’s passed away you need to be more aware of—’
‘I saw you approaching out the window and was on my way out anyway,’ Jane lied to appease him. She’d had enough of being lectured to about her safety.
‘Right, well it’s always best to double-check. I’m here to take you over to Scotland Yard to meet Crowley. I would have called but, as it’s still early, I thought I might catch you before you left.’
‘Why does Crowley want to see me?’ Jane asked.
‘He wants you to look at some more mugshots, surveillance photographs and artist’s impressions of suspected IRA members. He’s hoping you might recognise the man you saw at Covent Garden.’
As they walked to his car she could feel the blood rushing to her head, certain she was in trouble. He opened the passenger door and Jane climbed in. The door was still sticking and he had to slam it hard before he walked around to the driving side.
‘You all right?’ he asked, starting up the engine.
‘Yes, I’m fine. My flatmate is just winding me up and I’m rather sad about Daphne. I was at the hospital last night. Is that why you’re here?’
‘In a way. How was your evening?’
‘Not that great, I was having dinner with that charge nurse I mentioned, Michael Mitchell, when he got a call about Daphne. I was a bit worried that he had given my number out, but he said he was on call if there was an emergency, so he had to give his contact details.’
‘It’s good to be wary and careful. He should have checked if it was OK with you.’
Church drove in silence for a while, then gave Jane a sidelong glance.
‘So, it’s not working out all that well with the flatmate?’
Jane sighed, staring out of the window. ‘Not really. She did at least help me with the washing-up this morning, but then I found out she’d been in my bedroom again. I specifically asked her not to go in there, but I knew she’d been looking through my wardrobe. She’s very nosey and is always asking questions.’
‘What sort of questions?’
‘Just being generally nosey about everything. I’m going to get a lock put on my bedroom door.’
‘She was vetted, wasn’t she?’
Jane turned to him in surprise. ‘Yes. She works at Madame Tussauds.’
‘Do you know what a “sleeper” is?’
Jane straightened her back. ‘Yes, I do. It was explained to me. Pearl doesn’t concern me in that way… I mean, she isn’t doing anything suspicious.’
She’d started to hope Stanley hadn’t told Church about her mistake with Regina the previous night.
‘But you just said she asks a lot of questions, and that she goes in and out of your bedroom. You need to start thinking whether she might have an ulterior motive. I’m sure she doesn’t, but just be vigilant. You didn’t tell anyone about the raid, did you?’
‘No, I didn’t know anything about the target address until the briefing at the station. Why are you asking?
‘Crowley thinks the ASU may have been tipped off just before we got there.’
Jane was distraught. ‘What! Are you suggesting it was me?’
‘No, not at all, Crowley thinks the Intelligence Services have a leak. Look all I’m saying is you need to be careful… we all do.’
Jane chewed at her lip and stared out of the window again. She began to wonder if she had inadvertently mentioned anything to Pearl after Crowley’s call. Could Pearl’s interest in her work, and what was in her bedroom wardrobe, add up to more than just nosiness? Pearl had asked Michael if he was a detective, and she’d asked about the hospital. Why had Pearl come back early when she knew Jane was cooking dinner? Had she innocently given more details to Pearl than she’d realised?
‘Here we are,’ Church said, showing his warrant card to the PC guarding the entrance to the underground car park at Scotland Yard.
Church had not given any indication that the reason he had shown up to collect Jane was that Crowley was concerned about her vulnerability. He was aware that the news about Daphne Millbank’s death, and role as a vital witness, might be leaked to the press and yet again reflect badly on the investigation. To minimise the risk of this an announcement had been organised and a statement would be made that a further victim of the Covent Garden explosion had died from their injuries.
The day after the raid Crowley had been to Brixton prison where he interviewed the four Balcombe Street IRA men, who, as Category A prisoners, were segregated whilst awaiting trial. Crowley hoped they would give him names of the men connected to the recent IRA activity in London. Three of the men all insisted that the bomb squad had fabricated confessions and convicted the wrong men for the Guildford and Woolwich pub bombings. One prisoner had given Crowley names for two men who were part of the ASU in London, but it turned out they were already in a Northern Irish prison and could not have taken part in either the Guildford or Covent Garden bombings. It infuriated Crowley that the Balcombe Street men were playing games with him and wasting time.
Jane accompanied DCI Church to Crowley’s office. He was as abrupt as usual and gestured for her to take one of the two chairs in front of his desk.
Jane sat with her hands folded in her lap, watching as Crowley laid out a series of photographs face down in front of her.
‘I know you’re adamant that the artist’s impression released to the press was not your recollection of the suspect. Nor did it match the deceased Daphne Millbank’s description.’ Crowley leant back in his large desk chair. ‘I want you to look closely at the photographs in front of you. Some are surveillance photos, others are of men who have been arrested on suspicion of being sympathisers with, or members of, the IRA — not convicted or currently in prison. Take your time, and try as best as you can to recall the moment you tried to stop the suspect at Covent Garden.’
Jane leant forward to the edge of the desk, turning over one black-and-white photograph after another. She took her time, studying each one in turn.
‘No, I’m sorry. None of these men look familiar.’ She tapped the surveillance photograph of the man Crowley suspected with her index finger. ‘I’m sure this wasn’t the man I tried to stop at Covent Garden.’
‘I don’t want to undermine your confidence, Jane, but I believe this man was involved in the bombing at Covent Garden, maybe even as an accomplice. The landlord of the Kentish Town flat stated it was this man he saw when he visited the premises two weeks ago.’
Jane glanced at DCI Church in the hope of getting some response, but he was studying the row of mugshots and surveillance pictures.
‘Would you be prepared to attend an identity parade?’
‘Yes, of course I would. But even if the man I saw was on it I can’t be sure I’d pick him out.’
‘We can get the men on a parade to turn sideways,’ Church added.
Crowley leaned across his desk, gathered up the photographs and stacked them like a pack of cards.
‘I’m not sure you’re aware how much we’re depending on you, Tennison. We have very little evidence to assist us in tracing the woman seen in the phone box. We’ve issued a press release asking for anyone with information to come forward, but we still only have one witness claiming to have seen her, so it seems unlikely we’ll be able to trace her.’
There was a knock on the door and a uniformed officer asked if DCI Church could take an important call from a member of his Dip Squad.