‘Well, there’s nothing going on at any of the surveillance points. Chief Super’s just been in and according to Gibbs he gave Bradfield a real pastin’ about the cost of the operation. Between you and me, cos I saw the TSB vault, there is a big possibility we’ve been focusing on the wrong effing bank.’
‘But it doesn’t make sense. It is right next to a café’ — she gestured to the pinned-up mug shots — ‘and the Bentleys are obviously up to something.’
‘Bradfield’s got a couple of guys checking out other banks and jewellers’ in close proximity to cafés, but it might not even be connected to the Bentleys. The taped calls could be coming from God knows who or where.’
Jane sighed. ‘I’m sure it was John Bentley’s voice.’ But in reality she was now beginning to doubt herself.
‘Well, I believe you, but don’t get your knickers in a twist about it. As it is we can nick him for ringing a van with false plates, no insurance and probably a forged tax disc.’
‘But we don’t even know where he keeps the van yet, and they’re just minor offences really.’
‘All part of the game, Jane — you win some, you lose some.’
Jane sighed and went back to typing her report as Kath leaned over her shoulder to read it.
‘That’s interesting — Ma Bentley enquiring about illegal fivers and travel to the States. I wouldn’t mind getting some sun in Florida, but chance’d be a fine thing.’
Jane was about to add that travel to the US was expensive and not something she thought any of the Bentleys could afford, when suddenly Kath burst out laughing.
DS Gibbs was there in full uniform, his police helmet under his arm.
‘Evenin’ all,’ Kath said, squatting down then standing up with her hands behind her back. Jane wondered if he had been sent back to uniform due to the O’Duncie assault incident.
Gibbs shook his finger. ‘Haw haw, very funny, Morgan. Bradfield wants me to visit Silas’s café dressed like a plod on the pretext that Mannie Charles’ shop got broken into and I’m makin’ local enquiries. This bloody helmet’s too small,’ he said, and put it on.
Kath laughed again. ‘You might get a free moussaka and sticky cake, Spence. Do you want someone to go with you? Cos my uniform’s downstairs.’
‘Bradfield’s already lined up Sergeant “Happy” Harris to go with me. You two completed your reports yet?’ he asked, and they both said yes.
He told them to book off duty and turned to leave the room causing the helmet to fall from his head. ‘Bloody thing.’ As he bent down to pick it up Kath goosed him and he shot up.
‘Very funny, Morgan, keep yer hands to yourself.’
‘You should tell some of the blokes at the station to do the same. I’ve been touched up more times than you’ve had hot dinners.’
Returning to the section house Jane was eager to have a bath after being hunched up for hours in the stinking surveillance van. She hadn’t seen Bradfield at the station and was concerned about his dressing down by the Chief. She also wondered how she was going to react when she saw him after what had occurred between them. Just thinking about it made her smile.
As she passed the sergeant’s office she noticed the door was open. He got up and approached her with a stern look on his face. She was beginning to wonder if he and Sergeant Harris came from the same mould.
‘Your mother has rung three times this afternoon. She’s upset you haven’t made contact to let her know how you’ve settled in. I was in two minds whether to tell her about your indiscretion on the men’s floor—’
‘You didn’t, did you?’ Jane asked.
‘No, she sounded worried enough as it was. Neither I nor the wardens are an answer service. We only take urgent family calls to residents, so kindly inform your mother of the rules,’ he said, returning to his office and closing the door.
Deciding she’d better call home straightaway, Jane went to the payphone at the end of the corridor opposite the lifts. She dialled her parents’ number and hearing the answer beeps pushed in a few 2p coins.
‘About time, Jane — Daddy and I have been worried sick. We appreciate you must be busy but you promised to call and you haven’t, so we’ve been really anxious.’
‘How did you get this number?’
‘I called the station and they put me through to the incident room. That lovely Mr Bradfield answered the phone and said you’d been in an oboe van all day and had gone off duty. What were you doing in a van?’
Jane felt embarrassed wondering what Bradfield must have made of the call. ‘It’s an obo van, Mum, short for “observation”. And they don’t appreciate personal calls to the station or here.’
‘Are you coming home for Sunday lunch?’
‘I’m not sure if I’m clear this weekend as I’m still on attachment to the CID.’
‘Well, surely you’re allowed a weekend off? Pam will be here — they had a terrible time in the Lake District. It poured with rain and that MGB broke down so they had to hire another car.’
‘Oh I’m sorry. Uncle Brian should cover their costs.’
‘Well, they weren’t paying for the car — turns out it was his wedding present to them. But he had to get a truck to go and pick it up — the rear suspension thingy went.’
‘Mum, I’m going to have to go as I’ve got a lot of studying to do for CTC.’
‘Will you try and come for lunch on Sunday? We miss you.’
‘I miss you too, and I’ll let you know. Is Dad OK?’
‘Oh he’s fine. He worries about you, and we haven’t seen you for so long.’
‘It’s only been a few days, Mum, and I’ve been really busy.’
‘What have you been doing?’
Jane sighed. There was no way she could go into any kind of description of what she’d been involved in, and was thankful when the ‘pip, pip, pip’ started.
‘Got to go now — I’ll call about lunch.’
‘Bye bye, and make sure you do or I’ll have to phone you again.’
The call was cut off and as Jane replaced the receiver she felt a tap on her shoulder.
‘Hi! It’s me, Sarah Redhead. Can I borrow some 10ps from you? I’m totally out of change and have to call my brother urgently.’
Jane gave her five 10ps and eight 2ps from her purse.
‘Thanks, June, probably won’t need all this and I’ll pay you back as soon as. Maybe have a drink in the pub later?’
‘Yes, maybe,’ Jane replied, but had no intention of going.
She looked at her watch: it was 8 p.m., and last orders in the canteen were at half past seven. She was so tired she couldn’t even be bothered to pop out to get a takeaway and replacing her purse in her bag saw the bar of chocolate she’d purchased when following Renee Bentley. Opening it she broke off a large chunk and began to eat it as she got the lift to the women’s floor. What had started out as a positive day had now become a worrying one. She knew that if she was wrong about John Bentley there could be repercussions for Bradfield. It mattered to Jane that she was right. Not just for her sake but Bradfield’s as well as she realized how much she cared for him.
Gibbs got into ‘plod’ mode; he was almost in step as he walked side by side with the much taller and wider Harris. They were heading along Great Eastern Street just before 8 p.m. and the area was quiet with few pedestrians or vehicles.
‘Can’t wait to hear what Silas has to say for himself,’ Gibbs said.
‘Do you know what he looks like as there may be a few bubbles in there,’ Harris asked as they reached the café. Spencer smiled, knowing ‘bubble and squeak’ was Cockney rhyming slang for ‘Greek’. He said he had a full description of Silas from Mannie Charles and shaded his eyes to peer into the darkened café between the posters.