Jane went through the bedroom and into the drawing room, where Dexter was sorting through his copious notes whilst eating a sandwich.
‘There’s a glass of iced tonic water on the table… always good to have after you’ve thrown up.’
‘I’m so sorry. It was the whisky, on top of the wine I had at lunch.’
‘No need to apologise. You’ve had a lot to deal with.’
Jane sipped the iced tonic water, and then remembered that her soiled shirt was still in the washbasin and, feeling very embarrassed, asked Dexter if she could have some washing powder so that she could rinse it out.
‘Forget it. Sit down. I’ll sort it for you.’
‘No, really, I insist. I can hang it up to dry, or just take it home in a plastic bag.’
‘Do you know what time it is?’
She had no idea. She had left her watch in the bathroom.
‘Tennison, it’s after midnight. I’m going to get a blanket and kip down here on the sofa… You can have my bed. You’re in no fit state to drive.’
‘No, I’ll go home. I’ve got my car outside.’
‘Just do as you’re told… come on.’ Dexter took her hand and drew her into the bedroom. He threw back the duvet and gestured for her to get into the big double bed.
‘My hair’s still wet.’
He shook his head and went over to the bedside table. He took out a hairdryer from the drawer and plugged it into the socket next to the bed.
‘OK, dry your hair while I clean up in the bathroom.’
Jane stood in front of the bedroom mirror and, not having a brush, she ran her hands through her hair as she dried it. Dexter spent quite a while in the bathroom and she heard the toilet flushing a couple of times before he came out carrying her soiled skirt and her wet shirt.
‘I’m going to put this on the boiler so it’ll be dry by the morning.’
He came back into the bedroom just as she was about to climb into his bed.
‘I don’t know what to say…’ she said softly.
‘I think you’ve said more than enough for one night. You should really try to get some sleep. Tomorrow will be quite a day.’
‘Do you think this is going to put my career in jeopardy? You know… if I’ve been disclosing information that I shouldn’t have?’
He sat down beside her. ‘At the moment it’s just a lot of conjecture and suspicion. But you’ve been upfront about it all with me. Obviously, it will all have to be checked out; you might be wrong. On the other hand, if you are right and Natalie Wilde is a sleeper, then this is a big lead. Let’s face it, right now, with no Daphne Millbank, we are nowhere near identifying the Covent Garden bomber.’
‘Will Crowley investigate?’
‘I would think so. You’re going to have to be prepared for a lot of questions, and it’s a slow process. His team won’t want her tipped off that she’s being investigated and she’ll more than likely be under immediate surveillance. They’ll have to be careful because her contacts could be close.’
He reached out and traced her face with his hand. Whether he instigated the kiss or Jane did, when his lips touched hers she didn’t hold back and the next moment he moved onto the bed to lie beside her. She didn’t want to let him go, even when he leaned up on his elbow and looked uncertainly into her face.
‘You sure about this?’
‘Yes, don’t go… please.’
He cradled her in his arm and she buried her face in his neck, kissing him until he slowly drew up the James Dean T-shirt to kiss her breasts. He made love to her gently at first but then they became more passionate together and Dexter’s obvious sexual experience resulted in explosive orgasms that made her feel as if she was flying. Eventually they lay still together. Dexter drew Jane close to him and she rested her head again in the crook of his shoulder.
‘Well, that was unexpected… but very nice,’ he said, softly kissing the top of her head.
‘Tell me about you,’ she said.
‘I already have… There’s not much more than you already know.’
‘What does it feel like when you have to defuse a bomb?’
‘Well, that part you get used to… it’s what you’ve been trained to do. The worst is always what we call the “long walk”… when you have to slowly approach the bomb… that’s when your heart beats faster. You don’t know if it’s been booby-trapped or whether it’s going to explode in your face before you get to it… that’s always the worst part. I suppose it must be a bit like the bridegroom waiting at the altar, unsure if the bride’s going to turn up!’
‘It’s the bride who has to do the long walk, not the groom,’ Jane replied, but Dexter was silent.
She put her hand on his chest and felt the steady rhythm of his breathing, knowing that he was asleep. She didn’t want to move and all the tension and paranoia she had felt that afternoon and evening evaporated. She was safe, cushioned by Dexter’s warmth, and she quickly fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Dexter had already showered and dressed by the time she woke up. He sat next to her on the edge of the bed, waking her with a start. She smiled and closed her eyes again.
‘There’s coffee brewing… Your shirt’s dry, but your skirt stinks. If I were you I’d make a quick detour to your flat to get some clean clothes, then drive to Scotland Yard. You did say you had your car here?’
‘Yes…’ She opened her eyes again. ‘Are you leaving?’
‘Yeah. I want to get to Crowley and set up the meeting, then go over everything before you get there.’
Jane sat up, still feeling rather disorientated. ‘What time is it?’
‘Six thirty. Just shut the front door after you when you leave. I’ll see you at Crowley’s office about nine.’
Dexter was gone before Jane had time to say anything. She was disappointed at his hasty exit, but forced herself to do exactly what he had asked of her. She dressed in her less-than-fragrant clothes, and then drank half a cup of coffee before leaving his flat. Jane took Dexter’s James Dean T-shirt with her so that she could wash and return it, but she also liked having something of his. As the T-shirt lay on the passenger seat beside her it was a reminder, not only of their lengthy discussion about Natalie Wilde, but also about their passionate lovemaking. All Jane could think about being safely wrapped in his arms again, but as she got closer to home she began to feel very nervous. She knew that the meeting with Crowley was going to be one of the most difficult experiences she had faced.
Jane dressed in clean clothes and was ready to leave when the phone rang. She hoped it might be Dexter, but it was DCI Church.
‘Jane, it’s Church. I know you tried to reach me through the station last night, but when I called you back there was no reply.’
‘I’m sorry. I just needed to talk something through with you…’
‘I know, Dexter’s already told me. I’ll collect you in about fifteen minutes and drive you to HQ. We’re setting up a big meeting in Crowley’s office and I just thought you might need some support. It’s important that you handle yourself well. We’ll all be looking out for you, Jane, so just stay calm… and check that it’s me before you come down to your front door, all right?’
‘Yes, thank you… I’ll be ready and waiting, sir.’
Jane replaced the receiver, and looked at her watch. It was still only eight thirty and DCI Church’s call, instead of reassuring her, had made her stomach churn. She had only had a few gulps of coffee at Dexter’s flat earlier, and after being sick the night before she was worried that she might not be able to focus on an empty stomach. She quickly made herself two slices of plain toast and swallowed down a couple of aspirins with a glass of milk. She went into the bathroom and cleaned her teeth, checking her clean, pressed, white shirt and black slimline pencil skirt to make sure they were in order. By the time she had put on her jacket and picked up her handbag and briefcase, the doorbell rang.