‘Thanks. Crowley didn’t tell them much of the detail of my private conversation with him.’
‘That’s because he’s worried about how he’ll come out of it all. When a junior officer screws up it often reflects on their superior, so he wouldn’t want to have said too much. After all, he was the one who decided you should work under his supervision.’
‘They checked out that she worked at the NatWest, and she does… so maybe I’m wrong about her.’
‘Yeah, but that’s part of a “sleeper’s” agenda, to look totally legitimate and blend in with society, so as not to raise any flags. If you’re right about Natalie, and the evidence is there, then we’ll all come up smelling of roses… it’s just the way it works round here, so don’t beat yourself up about it.’
‘Crowley really put me through it… I must say, you were pretty fast off the mark telling him everything I told you.’
‘What did you expect?’
‘Maybe to give me some space when I got here? But it felt like an interrogation. He made me repeat everything again and again. He said that “under the circumstances” I might not have told you everything… What did he mean by that?’
‘I dunno. I didn’t tell him you spent the night in my bed, if that’s what you’re implying.’ Dexter sounded evasive.
That whole day, she realised, he hadn’t shown the slightest sign of affection towards her — not even when he’d woken her up. She wasn’t convinced and couldn’t look at him. It felt as if their night together had never occurred.
‘I have to go,’ she said. ‘DCI Church is taking me home.’
‘OK… you’ll obviously be kept informed about any developments, if not from me then I’m sure Jimmy will take care of you.’
Jane stood up and picked up her handbag from beside her chair.
‘Are you all right about last night?’ he asked, quietly.
‘Yes… I’ll get your T-shirt washed and back to you.’
‘Keep it. Jane, are you—’
‘I’d better go down to reception,’ she interrupted, unable to look at him. ‘I suppose I’ll see you when I see you.’
‘You know where I am if you need me.’
‘Yes, I do… bye for now.’
Jane walked away feeling deeply depressed and humiliated. It was obvious she was nothing more to Dexter than a one-night stand.
Dexter finished his coffee and lit a cigar. He knew he should have been more caring towards her but he didn’t want to encourage something between them. Although he had to admit the sex had been good.
Mrs Eileen Douglas lived in a pleasant second-floor flat in Aldwych, furnished with good antiques and some ornate oil paintings. A widow in her late fifties, articulate and with an aristocratic accent, she had obviously, at one time, been more affluent, judging by the contents of the flat.
She had begun to get used to the sight of police officers in her home since the bombing at Covent Garden. Even though she’d given a full statement about what she had seen, they always seemed to be back with more questions. Still, she was always very accommodating when the officers arrived at her flat, explaining again that she didn’t have her own telephone, and that she’d wanted to use the phone box to ask a friend to meet her in Covent Garden.
This time one of the policemen handed her a Hermès catalogue and asked her to find the scarf she’d seen. She sat in a large wing-backed chair, turning over one glossy page after another. She peered at the officers over her half-moon glasses.
‘Well, now I do feel really rather stupid. I was so certain the scarf had a pattern with red setters because I knew someone who had a pair of them. Such a lovely red-brown colour… but I see that I was wrong. I do apologise, but this is the scarf here. You see the similarity of the colours? But they’re horses, not dogs. I distinctly recall that golden colour around which I thought was some kind of ribbon, but of course they’re horseshoes. Oh — and I remembered another thing about the leather gloves the woman in the phone box wore… I think they may have been Burberry as I recall they were turned slightly over at the wrist revealing the Burberry check… but I’m not certain.’
Eileen had picked out the same scarf as Jane. By the time the information reached Crowley, Jane had already left the Yard.
On the journey back to her flat Jane had been quiet, and Church hadn’t attempted to make conversation. It was not until they were parked that he stopped her from getting out of the car.
‘You are to remain at home until we contact you. But I don’t want you thinking that this whole situation is going to be detrimental to your career. So, don’t think—’
‘Don’t think what?’ Jane snapped, interrupting him.
Church was taken aback by her tone. She was about to get out of the car when she turned angrily to him.
‘I suppose it will be common knowledge by now that DS Dexter shagged me, and it will be round the whole Yard. I don’t believe “nothing detrimental” will happen… I know my career is screwed, in the literal sense. “Stay at home, you’ve done enough damage, Tennison”.’
‘You’re wrong.’
‘You think I’m stupid? Well, obviously I am with regard to bloody Natalie Wilde, never mind the Regina Hernandez situation. How do you think I’m feeling about it, DCI Church? Or have you brought me back home for a one-night stand as well?’ Jane was becoming hysterical. Church grabbed her shoulder hard and shook her.
‘Shut it! I mean it, Jane. You need to be careful about making any judgements. We’re all protecting you. If we do get a result and can prove that Natalie Wilde is the connection it will be because of you and your suspicions. You recognised the scarf and were wise enough not to confront her. No one, and I mean not one officer, is not looking out for you… that includes me. Any sexual encounter you had with DS Dexter is not public knowledge, and I can guarantee it will remain private.’
Jane bowed her head.
‘I’m sorry I shook you… You heard Crowley at the meeting, he’s gathering a big team of officers and using some of the Dip Squad to assist. All this is entirely down to your information. We did have a static observation on your flat, but from now on it will be round-the-clock protection. You are of vital importance, Jane. You need to stay in your flat and wait for us to contact you.’
Church patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. She apologised, and then got out of the car. Church waited until she was inside the main front door and gave a quick wave of acknowledgement to the two SPG men on duty outside her building before driving off. Given her present state, he made no mention that they had already been inside and double-checked that her flat was safe.
Chapter Nineteen
By mid-morning Stanley had arranged a suitable observation point in a second-floor flat opposite Natalie Wilde’s home. The owner, a professional photographer, had agreed to allow his flat to be used as he was travelling to the Bahamas to shoot a commercial. He was inquisitive about why the police wanted to use his flat, and Stanley told him there had been a spate of daylight robberies in the street and he would be compensated for the use of his flat and calls made on his telephone. The owner told Stanley he would be back in a week and left.
An observation point, also manned by Dip Squad officers, had been set up opposite the NatWest branch where Natalie worked. Stanley used the landline to call the team and give them the address and phone number of his observation point. He asked one of them to make enquiries with the letting agent about when Natalie Wilde moved in and how long the lease was for. He had not made enquiries with any of the neighbours living either side of Natalie’s rented flat, or in the flats above the basement, in case this alerted Natalie to their surveillance. It was also possible that Natalie’s contacts could be living close by.