He frowned. ‘The senior SOCO who attended the bank scene did all that and nothing of interest was found. Next time speak to me first. Mrs. Simpson is our best chance of identifying the getaway driver — if we can identify him that might then lead us to the rest of the team. These men are dangerous and Mrs. Simpson’s safety is crucial to the investigation. I’ve told her to tell no one that she saw the driver. I don’t want her getting cold feet by putting her under any more police pressure right now, so I’ll deal with her statement.’
‘I understand, sir. Will you be getting a statement from the old lady as well?’ Jane asked.
Kingston looked puzzled. ‘Who are you talking about?’
‘Betty, the old lady with the hunched shoulders who witnessed the robbery. Fiona Simpson implied you’d spoken to her.’
‘Unfortunately, she’s a bit senile and not very reliable, so I decided it wasn’t worth getting a statement off her. Considering it’s your first day and you were shoved in at the deep end, you’ve done well,’ he said, changing the subject.
‘Thanks, but I don’t think DCI Murphy and the rest of the team share your viewpoint.’
‘My advice is to carry on as you’ve started and don’t let them get to you.’
Jane felt she could be open with him and part of her wanted to gauge his opinion further.
‘That’s not so easy when you’ve been told you’re nothing more than an experiment—’
‘Look, if you’re worried about the team finding out, don’t be. I for one won’t say anything and I can assure you neither will DCI Murphy, otherwise he’d have everyone on his back wanting to know what’s going on. The Flying Squad has always been a male bastion, but sooner or later that was going to change and some feathers were going to get ruffled. There are guys on the team who will test your mettle, the same as they would with a new male officer on the squad, and the banter can be pretty full on at times — but like I just said, don’t let them get to you and if you’re not sure about something, just ask.’
Jane knew that what he was saying made sense and it made her feel more relaxed about being the ‘treacle’ on the Flying Squad.
Kingston handed her the house-to-house folder.
‘I’ve got a shedload of paperwork and reports to do, so unless there’s something you want to ask about the investigation, I need to crack on.’
Returning to her desk, Jane noticed a typewriter on it along with some handwritten statements and officers’ reports. She picked up the reports, which were written by the Colonel, DS Stanley and DC Baxter. The office was empty apart from Katie, who was updating the incident board with the information gleaned from the earlier meeting. Jane put the reports back in each of the officers’ in trays on their desks and the statements on Katie’s.
Katie turned around. ‘What are you doing?’
Jane walked back to her desk. ‘DI Kingston told me that squad officers are expected to type up their own reports. Unfortunately I can’t help you with the statements as I’ve got to go out and make some important house-to-house enquiries.’
‘Well, you could do them when you get back.’
Jane jotted down the office phone number on the back of the house-to-house folder, then picked up her raincoat and small shoulder bag.
‘I won’t be coming back to the office tonight. I’ll be heading straight home when I’ve finished with the house-to-house.’
‘You have to come back here to book off duty.’
‘DI Kingston said it would be fine to ring in before I go home. Have a nice evening and I’ll see you in the morning.’
As Jane left the office, an irate Katie stormed into Kingston’s office.
‘Tennison has just dumped all the typing back on my desk and walked out the door — she had the cheek to say you said she didn’t have to do it!’
Kingston stood up and gently held her by both arms.
‘I did, but—’
‘Why are you being so nice and obliging to her?’
‘Just calm down and let me explain. I told her to continue the house-to-house this evening for a reason—’
‘Well, it’d better be a good one.’
‘Everyone’s out of the office on enquiries and Murphy will be leaving at six for a commendation ceremony at the Yard, which means we’ll be alone.’
He slid his hands onto her backside and pulled her tight against his body.
‘That is a good reason.’
She smiled, stretching up to kiss him.
Chapter Ten
Jane knocked on the door of flat 40 Edgar House and looked at her pocket notebook to check the name of the owner. The door was opened by a woman in her late sixties, wearing a floral kitchen apron over a white blouse and grey skirt with slippers on her feet.
‘Helen Clarke?’
‘Blimey, you’re quick off the mark — I only rang you a few hours ago,’ she said, looking pleased.
‘We haven’t spoken before, Mrs. Clarke,’ Jane said, confused.
‘Haven’t we? Who are you then?’
‘I’m Detective Sergeant Jane Tennison,’ she replied, holding up her warrant card.
Helen looked embarrassed. ‘Silly me, I thought you were from the insurance company about the fire in our garage.’
Jane smiled. ‘As it happens I would like to speak to you about the garage fire—’
‘An officer whose name I can’t remember already spoke to me earlier about it, dear.’
‘That was ADC Murray.’
Helen looked confused. ‘He told me he was a detective.’
‘He works with me — he’s a driver on the Flying Squad and helps us with our enquiries.’
‘What’s the Flying Squad?’
‘We investigate bank robberies. I’m here in connection with one that occurred at Barclays Bank in Leytonstone this morning.’
‘I don’t know anything about any bank robberies, dear,’ she said, looking worried.
‘Did ADC Murray not tell you why he was asking about your garage?’
‘He said the garages had been set alight and ours had been badly damaged and the police were investigating it as a possible arson. He wondered if our car was in the garage and I told him my daughter has it. When I left the flat to go and see my husband in hospital I saw the fire brigade and police next to a burnt-out car. I thought it might be some of them hooligan kids from the estate down the road who’d done it — they come up here breaking into the flats and stealing stuff from cars.’
Jane realized that Murray probably hadn’t wanted to stress Helen unduly, so he didn’t mention the possible connection to the armed robbery, but she decided it was time to be honest with her.
‘It wasn’t kids who did this, Mrs. Clarke. We have reason to believe a getaway car used in the bank robbery was dumped in your garage and set alight with petrol.’
‘I honestly don’t know anything about a bank robbery or the fire,’ Helen said, looking more distressed.
‘I don’t think for one minute that you do, Mrs. Clarke, but knowing a bit more about your garage, and anyone who used it, might help the investigation.’
Helen opened the door. ‘You’d better come in then. I just boiled the kettle — would you like some tea?’
Jane said she would and followed Helen into the kitchen, which was the first room to the left of the ground floor two-bedroom duplex. The small kitchen was spotless, and three silver containers marked coffee, tea and sugar were neatly laid out next to a round Swan electric kettle. Helen made a pot of tea and used a small strainer to catch the leaves as she poured the tea into two bone china cups. She let Jane pour her own milk while she got some custard cream and Bourbon biscuits out of a round floral decorated tin and placed them neatly on a side plate.