Bradfield lit a cigarette. ‘From now on the surveillance on John and Clifford Bentley will be round the clock, with three to four per vehicle and static points so you can take turns catching some kip during the night.’
He also informed them a team was already out watching the Bentley flat and another out at Allard Street where Daniel Mitcham lived with his wife and two kids in a terraced council house. Even though they had as yet no sighting of Mitcham, he had a close relationship with Bentley so Bradfield was covering all possibilities.
An officer asked if it was known where John Bentley’s van was now and Bradfield told him it was not in the vicinity of the Kingsmead or Pembridge and could be in a rented garage or lock-up somewhere, but it was hoped surveillance would resolve the problem.
‘There is another man we believe to be involved, a Greek immigrant called Silas Manatos. Unfortunately he has no criminal record so we don’t as yet have a picture of him, but we hope a surveillance team will soon.’
He walked over to the street drawing taped to the wall and indicated each building as he continued. ‘Manatos runs this café in Great Eastern Street, which is right next door to the Trustee Savings Bank and may be the possible target for a break-in via the basement of the café and into the bank vault. Right now we have no firm evidence, witnesses or informants who have seen or heard anything suspicious. Reality is, ladies and gents, I’m acting on a gut feeling due to circumstantial evidence over Silas’s lease of the café. He’s having refurbishment work done, but the premises are due to be knocked down soon. I strongly believe that the target is the TSB; however, it could be any bank, or even a jeweller’s, anywhere in London.’
Everybody looked at each other, surprised how vast an area they could be looking at, but Bradfield reassured them that if he was right about John Bentley then the surveillance teams should not only help to identify the other members of the gang, but lead them to the premises to be robbed.
DS Gibbs, sitting near to Bradfield, was uneasy. ‘We’re going on a lot of “assumption”. We could have the wrong location,’ he said.
‘Yeah, I know I have to consider that, but these guys are obviously up to something and we just have to step up the surveillance. I am going to talk to the manager of our suspected target today. Morgan, you can come with me, but I don’t want anything that gives away that we are on to them as it will make them back off and then we’ll have nothing.’
He then asked Jane to get back to Ashley Brennan and ask if he had picked up any further conversations overnight. She said she would call him straight after the meeting.
Kath saw a mug shot of David Bentley in amongst the papers Bradfield had placed on the desk and picked it up. He looked very young and from the arrest date on the photo she could see it was taken many years ago, but it was interesting that he had fair hair.
‘Excuse me, sir, but the bloke in the van with John Bentley, could it have been his younger brother David?’ she suggested, handing him the picture.
‘I thought about that, Kath, in fact I nicked him years ago and this photo of him was taken in a hospital. He fell off a roof nicking lead and the doctors said he’d be a cripple for life and only be able to get around in a wheelchair so I doubt he’d be able to serve any useful role in a bank job.’
Jane raised her hand and Bradfield asked what she wanted.
‘I’m pretty sure I saw David a week or so ago. He was walking behind the wheelchair, sort of using it as a support. Some young lad upset him and he reacted pretty quickly.’
‘Is there anyone in that family you don’t know, Tennison?’ DS Gibbs remarked.
Bradfield frowned at him and then looked at Jane. ‘Come on, pretty sure or sure?’
‘Well, he was with a woman who I know to be Renee Bentley and he looks like an older version of his mug shot, his hair is much longer.’
Bradfield asked the surveillance officers if he looked similar to the man who was with John Bentley in the van and they both said he did.
‘So if he can stand up he could act as a lookout,’ Bradfield said and paused to think for a second before looking at the surveillance officers. ‘I don’t think Bentley sussed you tailing him. Where exactly was the car park he drove into?’
‘The multistorey one in Great Eastern Street,’ the officer replied.
‘The one opposite the café and bank?’ Bradfield asked.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘You’d get a 360 view from the very top so I’d say it’s the perfect spot for a lookout to see what’s coming from every direction. John Bentley could have dropped his brother off on the top floor. You most likely couldn’t find his van because it would only take him thirty seconds or so to park up in the yard behind the café and close the gates.’
There was a buzz in the room as everyone realized Bradfield could be right. Kath mentioned that from the tape it sounded like a patrolling uniform officer had been spotted by the lookout when arresting a drunk.
‘Maybe it’s worth trying to find out who it was, guv.’
‘Good thinking, Kath. Spence, check with uniform downstairs and with City of London Police as their patch borders the area. If the officer’s actions fit with the information “Eagle” relayed over the walkie-talkie then there’s even stronger evidence it’s the right location.’
‘We hope. There are other banks in that area with cafés nearby or next to them,’ Gibbs remarked.
Bradfield gave him a disapproving look and one of the detectives suggested a night-time raid on the café to catch them in the act.
Bradfield shook his head. ‘No, not at the moment. I want to keep up the surveillance and identify John Bentley’s team. We don’t know if they only go into the café on certain nights, so we need to sit, wait and watch first. By rushing it we risk blowing the whole operation and the Bentleys walking away scot-free.’
Gibbs sighed. ‘But if Bentley sussed the surveillance team then they’re already on to us, so a hit now might result in finding digging equipment, maps, the walkie-talkies or other incriminating evidence before they get a chance to dispose of it.’
Bradfield ignored him and took out some papers from his file and pinned them to the cork board.
‘This is a list of the teams I want you to work in and it also details the street position each obo van and vehicle should take up. Obviously I need to find surveillance premises in Great Eastern Street, but that’s not going to be easy if the car park is Bentley’s lookout point. Now let’s get out there, gather the evidence and build a watertight case to get these bastards put away for a long time. Are there any questions?’
The officers in the room looked at each other. He knew that there would be some that disagreed with his decisions and others who agreed with DS Gibbs, but as he expected no one argued with him. Everyone gathered round the list to see who they were working with. Bradfield leant over to Gibbs.
‘I’d like a word with you in my office.’
‘I’ll just contact City of London Police first and—’
‘Now, Spence,’ Bradfield said firmly and picked up his folder.
Gibbs followed Bradfield into his office where he slammed the file down on the desk and turned sharply.
‘Why are you being so negative and challenging my authority, Spence?’
‘I’m not...’