‘You got a fuckin’ nerve coming here and spyin’ on us. My grandson’s dead cos you bastards give him a beating.’
The room was silent and people looked at each other wondering what was going on.
‘SHE’S A BLOODY COPPER!’ Nancy hollered as loud as she could.
Jane could see everyone was looking at her and, terrified, she tried to push her way through the men behind her and out of the snug, but they didn’t move. Ma Phillips made another lunge, grabbed Jane’s shoulder, spun her round and spat in her face. Everyone began crowing and screaming and even though the pianist started playing and singing another verse they all began herding around Jane. It was Renee who grabbed Nancy and pulled her away from Jane.
‘That’s enough, the lot o’ ya! Leave ’er alone, Nancy. She’s uniform, not CID filth, and nuffin’ to do with Eddie’s death.’
Unsteady as she was on her feet Renee stepped forward and positioned herself between Nancy and Jane.
‘I know this girl and she’s all right. Leave it to me and I’ll see her out. Go on, get back to yer singing.’
Nancy glared at Jane.
Renee raised her arm to hold Nancy back and spoke calmly. ‘We’re here to show respect to your grandson Eddie. He’d be turning in his grave if you got nicked for belting a copper at his wake.’
Renee waved her hands for everyone to back off, hooked her arm through Jane’s and moved towards the exit to the back yard of the pub. Jane helped her keep her balance.
Once in the rear yard Jane helped Renee sit down by a bench table covered in dirty glasses. She took a tissue out from her bag and wiped Nancy’s spit off her face.
Renee looked at her and shrugged. ‘It was my fault Nancy kicked off. I recognized you first and said you were a copper. I didn’t get a chance to finish telling her you’d helped me out before she erupted. But to be honest, luv, you shouldn’t have come here.’
‘I’m sorry, but my bus broke down and—’
‘Whatever the reason I don’t wanna hear it. You did me a good turn and I figured I owed you one.’
‘I really appreciate what you did in there.’
Renee started to stand up but stumbled back onto the seat.
Jane hesitated but couldn’t stop herself. ‘So how’s your family? I heard your husband was released recently.’
Renee looked up with a squinting half-smile on her face.
‘If John and Clifford could see me now they’d not be best pleased, but family is family, no matter what I got notions about, but...’ She tried to straighten her hat. ‘My David’s the only decent one. I take care of him cos the other two are no-good bastards.’
Holding on to the table she pulled herself to her feet and started to return to the snug, but stopped and glared at a woman at an adjacent table. She had long dyed blonde hair and was wearing a silver lamé dress.
‘You slag!’ Renee shouted.
Jane couldn’t believe it: one minute Renee was fine and the next she was screeching in a rage. Unbeknownst to Jane this was the woman Clifford had been having an affair with for years. Renee lurched across the table, picked up a half-finished pint and threw it over the woman, who jumped up and started screaming whilst clutching her soaking-wet hair. Jane watched aghast as Renee threw a punch that missed before toppling forward knocking the woman to the ground. Shouts and cat-calls erupted as the pair of them struggled and punched at each other, and people came out from the snug wondering what on earth the ruckus was about.
Jane was trembling; she had never seen two women fight in her entire life. She took the opportunity to get out fast and headed across the road to the bus stop. She took deep breaths to calm herself, and looking back across the road saw two men pulling Renee and ‘the slag’ apart.
The conductor was sitting on the platform smoking as another 253 bus pulled up behind the broken-down one.
‘Right now, everyone all aboard! If you’ve kept your tickets you can still use ’em,’ he said as he tossed his cigarette butt into the gutter.
Jane didn’t bother to go upstairs this time as it was only a few more stops before Bethnal Green Tube station. She was still shaken and only then realized she’d left her denim jacket in the pub, but there was no way she was going to go back to look for it.
When the conductor approached she showed her warrant card again and he looked at her.
‘Sorry about the delay, officer. I’m surprised you went in the Star and Garter — it’s a real notorious hang-out for East End villains. Lucky you weren’t in uniform or they’d have tossed you out head first.’
He wasn’t to know what had happened, but what he said made Jane feel even more upset. She wanted to be at home with her mum and dad more than she could ever remember.
Bradfield and Kath went to the bank manager’s house in Islington to tell him about what was happening and to ask him to accompany them to the observation point in the old lady’s house. En route Kath had tried to broach the subject of Jane and how distressed she was after her meeting with him. Bradfield had frowned disapprovingly and made it quite clear there was nothing going on and she should keep her nose out of his business. As far as he was concerned the matter was over and done with. Tennison was on a few days’ leave and would return to normal uniform duties on her return.
‘Fine, whatever you say.’
‘Didn’t mean to sound off at you, Kath, but I got a lot on my plate. She’s a sweetheart and I maybe need to make it clear I’m no good for her.’
As hard as it was to bite her tongue and say nothing, Kath valued being present at the arrests in the bank vault too much to say anything further on the matter.
Adrian Dunbar was perplexed and anxious as Bradfield told him that he was to accompany him to an observation address where a team of officers were monitoring an ongoing break-in at the bank.
He paced up and down his living room, shaking his head and refused to accept what he was being told. Bradfield gave him a quick rundown on the events of the last couple of nights.
Dunbar shook his head. ‘It is simply not possible to gain access to the vault like that. The security system is of the highest calibre and if they have got as far as you say the alarm would have gone off by now. I think you are mistaken and overreacting, Chief Inspector.’
‘I’m not prepared to go into all the details here and now, but we believe the suspects have what is known as a “bell man” who is an expert in bypassing even the most sophisticated alarm systems,’ Bradfield said, trying to keep his temper in check.
‘Not the ones in my bank. Since the Baker Street robbery it was designed to be impenetrable, thick metal bars, concrete, steel mesh—’
Bradfield was really impatient. ‘It’s not YOUR bank and neither is what is stored in there. If you want the suspects to get away with it then fine, stay here and don’t help us. But you might find yourself looking for a new job.’
Dunbar walked over to his phone and picked it up, but a suspicious Bradfield put his finger on the button to cut off the dial tone.
‘I need to contact my head of security,’ Dunbar said aggressively.
‘No, Mr Dunbar, there may be someone in your bank who has given inside information to the suspects, so at present only you can know what we are doing.’
He watched Dunbar’s reaction closely. He did look nervous but it was impossible to tell if he was involved or worried about his career. However, there was no way Bradfield was leaving the house without him, or letting him out of his sight, and within the next hour they were at the op with a very subdued Dunbar listening in disbelief to the suspects’ walkie-talkie conversation on Frank’s CB radio.