‘I wouldn’t worry — it would be a bit like looking for a needle in a haystack as it could have gone anywhere.’
As Juliet 1 was taken away on the low-loader, Cam pulled up and told them about the burnt-out Cortina and the house-to-house enquiries Kingston wanted done at Edgar House.
‘As a DS I’ve overseen house-to-house in murder investigations, so I’m happy to organize it.’
Cam smiled. ‘It’s OK, Kingston asked me to organize it while you and Dabs deal with the Cortina.’
Jane was disappointed. ‘Fine. If you need any advice or help, then please just ask.’
‘Thanks, but I know how to do house-to-house... Sarge,’ he replied.
Jane thought his attitude was rather surly considering she was just trying to be helpful. She also wondered from the way he addressed her if the Colonel had mentioned her objection to being called ‘Treacle’ instead of Sergeant. As she got in the car with Dabs, Cam turned on the siren and blue light before pulling out at speed. This time she was prepared for the sudden acceleration and braced herself with both hands firmly on the passenger side of the dashboard.
Traveling to the scene, they received a radio call that the garage the Cortina was found in was number 29, but they hadn’t yet located the owner. As the car turned into Blake Hall Road they could see a plume of grey smoke rising above the flats and a large London Fire Brigade engine blocking the entrance route to the garages, so Cam parked as near as he could. Edgar House consisted of 128 duplex flats in three two-storey blocks that were built, and joined together, in a Y shape. Jane initially thought Edgar House would be council flats, but on seeing the well-maintained communal gardens and how neat and tidy the estate was, she wondered if it was a private estate.
As Jane, Cam and Dabs got out of the squad car, a uniform van pulled up behind them and a sergeant and five PCs got out. The sergeant walked straight up to Cam.
‘Are you from the Flying Squad?’ he asked, and Cam nodded. ‘The duty inspector told us you needed some assistance with house-to-house enquiries regarding the armed robbery at Barclays. Will someone be briefing us on what needs to be done?’
‘Yes, I will. DI Kingston asked me to sort it out for him as he’s still at the bank.’
Jane was getting fed up with Cam’s attitude and thought he should have had the decency to introduce her and Dabs.
‘I’m WDS Tennison and this is Dave Morgan, our senior SOCO on the squad—’
Cam cut in, ‘They’ll be doing the forensic work on the burnt-out motor. DI Kingston wants enquiries made at all the flats to find out who owns the garage, and to see if any residents noticed any suspicious activity around the garage the car was found in during the last two weeks.’
‘No problem, I’ll let my team know.’ The sergeant started to walk off.
‘It might help to see how many garages there are first and if they have corresponding numbers to a flat,’ Jane remarked.
Cam looked flustered. ‘I was just going to do that’
Jane hadn’t finished. ‘Have you got any house-to-house forms for the sergeant and his officers to fill in?’
‘There should be some in a box in the boot of the car,’ Cam muttered.
He went to the boot, opened it and rummaged through the box, which contained plenty of statement forms but no house-to-house ones.
‘There don’t appear to be any left,’ he said, red-faced.
Jane moved over to Cam’s side and spoke quietly.
‘Have you led a house-to-house enquiry team before?’
‘I know what I’m doing — someone obviously forgot to restock the box with them,’ he whispered.
‘I take it that would normally be the driver of the car’s responsibility?’ she asked, but he didn’t reply. ‘I thought as much.’ She turned to the sergeant. ‘Would you mind contacting your station and asking if someone could kindly drop off some house-to-house forms, as we seem to have used them all in Woodville Road. Can you also ask for some copies of the Edgar House electoral register to be printed off for each officer, then they can check the residents’ names against the register.’
The sergeant contacted the station on the radio and the operator told him they’d get the forms and copies of the register sent down right away. When he finished Jane continued.
‘If any residents did see anyone acting suspiciously on the estate, or near the garages, today or recently, we will need a detailed description of what they saw and the person or persons they saw. Please notify me right away in case urgent follow-up action is needed — the same goes for the owner of the garage when you identify them. If there are any flats where you get no reply, then you still need to fill in a pro forma to that effect and leave a note asking them to contact us at the Flying Squad office — ADC Murray will give you the squad details. When you’ve finished, give him the completed forms and we’ll go through them later.’
The sergeant was confused. ‘I thought you were with forensics?’
‘No, I’m a WDS on the Flying Squad,’ she replied firmly.
‘Really?’
The sergeant looked surprised, as did his uniform colleagues next to him. Jane looked around, then leaned closer, as if wanting to speak to him in confidence. The sergeant leaned forward, but she spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear.
‘Keep it to yourself, but I’m actually making it up about being on the Flying Squad just to shock every male officer I come across — and so far, it’s working a treat.’
She turned sharply, stepped over the fire engine hosepipes, and strode off towards the garages, followed by Dabs.
‘Is she always so touchy?’ the sergeant asked Cam.
‘It’s her first day on the squad so she likes to think she’s “the big cheese”.’
‘She seems to know how house-to-house should be done,’ the sergeant remarked.
Cam shrugged. ‘There’s nothing difficult about house-to-house. Truth is she hasn’t a clue about how we work on the squad.’
‘You reckon she’ll last long?’
‘Doubt it. She’s already pissed off the Governor.’
At the far end of the flats there were thirty numbered brick-built and asbestos-roofed garages in two rows of fifteen facing each other. The burnt-out garage 29 was at the far end of the row, and five fire brigade officers were present. Two firemen were still hosing down the roof and the inside of the garage, while one was working on the Cortina, which had been winched out onto the concrete driveway by a red fire brigade Land Rover. A cloud of steam rose from the car as the cold water hit the hot metal, and the acrid smell of burnt rubber from the tires filled the air.
Jane approached a young uniform PC, who was encouraging some residents who had gathered to return to their flats as the smoke and burnt tire fumes were not good for their lungs. Jane introduced herself and he told her what had happened so far and gave her the details of the occupant who had made the original 999 call to the fire brigade.
‘He was going to go out in his car, which is parked in a garage at the opposite end, and said he saw smoke coming out of garage 29, so he ran back to his flat and dialed 999. I spoke to him and asked if he saw anyone in or around any of the garages before the fire, but he said he didn’t. A few residents were coming out to see what was going on and I asked them to return to their flats for their own safety. Also, knowing you’d probably want to do house-to-house, I thought it was best they were indoors.’
‘You’ve done a good job. Are the properties council-owned flats?’ she asked.
‘No, they belong to a housing association who rent them out to the tenants, most of whom are forty-plus. The flats and grounds are well maintained, and the majority of the residents are friendly and pro-police — you always get a cup of tea and a biscuit when you walk round the estate.’