When Jane left the office at 4 p.m., the result of Fiona Simpson’s post mortem hadn’t come in, but she knew the examination of the body could take two to three hours and she could ring Paul Lawrence later in the evening. She was still feeling on a high after the office meeting. The last few days had had their ups and downs, but everything was coming together, and although Murphy was giving her a hard time, the others seemed to have accepted her as part of the team. Thinking about the suspects being ambushed and arrested ‘on the pavement’ was exhilarating, and she hoped it would happen sooner rather than later. Not being authorized to carry a gun, Jane knew she wouldn’t be part of the arrest team, but she hoped at some point Murphy would let her go on a firearms course. She smiled to herself, thinking of her mother’s shock if she found out her daughter carried a gun and was involved in the arrest of armed men in the middle of a robbery. Thinking of her mother, she wondered if she ought to go and see her parents after the stressful situation with Tony and Pam. She decided against it, as she didn’t fancy repeating everything she’d told Pam and needed an early night.
When she got home Jane got a pair of jeans, a white T-shirt, and red turtleneck jumper out of her wardrobe to wear in the cafe. She then had a hot bath, put on some tracksuit bottoms and a T-shirt and poured herself a glass of wine. Feeling hungry, she cooked herself a large portion of spaghetti bolognese and some garlic bread, then turned on the TV. She flicked through the channels, but there was nothing on she wanted to watch, so she decided to read some more of Medea instead. The story about a woman’s revenge on her husband couldn’t help but make her think about the goings-on in the office. She hoped Kingston’s wife didn’t start poisoning people like Medea had.
The phone rang and she quickly answered it.
‘Hi, it’s Paul — we’ve just finished the PM.’
‘What was the result?’ she asked eagerly.
‘Inconclusive, I’m afraid. She died from an acute subdural hematoma.’
‘In layman’s terms, please.’
‘When her head hit the concrete, it cracked her skull open and probably knocked her out. But it also ruptured a vein, which then filled the brain with blood and ultimately led to her death. If she’d got immediate treatment, she might have survived.’
‘Was she pushed?’
‘There’s no bruising on her body to support that conclusion—’
‘But she could have been?’
‘Yes. I found some footprints in the men’s toilets—’
‘How on earth is that going to help? Dozens of people must have been in there.’
‘Christ, you can be impatient at times, Jane. The prints were on the cubicle toilet seat, which I don’t believe you need to stand on to have a crap.’
Jane could suddenly see it.
‘Oh my God, someone must have been hiding in there when she locked up.’
‘It’s possible. They look like trainer marks, but I can’t say when they got there, plus someone might have stood on the seat to fix the cistern. I’ve removed the seat and I’ll take it back to the lab for a closer examination.’
‘What about the Chubb key? Do you think you’ll get a print off it?’
‘I’m going to try a new technique using superglue.’
‘Superglue? How does that work?’
‘I’ll put the keys in a glass tank next to a tray with some superglue in it. Heating the glue makes it vaporize and releases fumes into the container. The vapors adhere to any fingerprints, making them visible, then I can enhance them by using dyes or powders. However, it’s a bit of a slow process and can take a day or two.’
‘Fingers crossed you get something, and it’s not Fiona Simpson’s print.’
Jane thanked Paul and ended the call. As she got ready for bed, the image of a man hiding in the toilets, calmly waiting until his victim was alone, wouldn’t leave her mind, and she wasn’t sure if she would sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
All the observation points were operational by 6 a.m.: OP1 was the newsagent’s in Bruce Grove, manned by Bax; OP2 was George Ripley’s house, the entrance to which was being watched by a CROPS officer from a hide in the field opposite; OP3 was Tommy Ripley’s flat, being watched by Stanley in an OBO van; OP4 was GR Motors, being manned by Teflon; and OP5 was Aidan O’Reilly’s flat, being manned by CO11. Each OP also had three CO11 surveillance officers ready to do foot follows, and two unmarked vehicles nearby with officers ready to tail the suspects’ cars. Motorcycle surveillance officers were also parked up near the Ripleys’ addresses.
Kingston and the Colonel were carrying revolvers and parked up at Tottenham Police Station, with firearms officers from D11 in two unmarked cars, ready to pounce on the suspects if they committed a robbery. Murphy was with Cam at Rigg Approach controlling the operation. Their call sign was ‘Gold.’ George Ripley was Target 1, Tommy Ripley Target 2, Aidan O’Reilly Target 3 and Graham Smith Target 4. If the suspect believed to be Carl was seen he would be Target 5, and the man in the camel hair coat Target 6.
Jane parked her car in a back street away from the cafe.
Nick opened the door when she arrived. ‘Buongiorno, officer Tennison.’
‘Buongiorno, Nick. I think it would be best if you called me Jane.’
‘OK, Jane. You wanna cappuccino?’
‘Yes please.’
‘Bene, you gonna make it on the machine, and I watch you.’
‘Straight in at the deep end, eh? I’ve never used an espresso machine, but I’ll give it a go.’
‘You better learn quick, cause we open in an hour.’ He handed her a short-waist black apron with pockets in it for a pen and order pad. ‘I tell you how to make the cappuccino.’
Under Nick’s guidance she poured some cold milk into a metal steaming pitcher, then held it under the tip of the steaming wand on the espresso machine and turned the dial, releasing the steam.
‘Not too much or you burn the milk.’
She turned the steamer off, and with a little help from Nick made a single shot of espresso, which she poured into a large cup. She picked up the steamed milk and went to pour it into the cup.
‘Aspettare, aspettare, you have to give it a tap first. You tap the bottom of the pitcher on the counter to bring the foam to the top.’
She finished making the cappuccino and Nick took a swallow.
‘Molto buona... Is good.’
‘Would you like me to do any cooking?’
‘No, il cucinare is my job — you just take and serve the orders.’
Nick spent the next half hour going over the menu, then showed Jane how the till worked and where everything was kept.
‘Any problem you just ask me, but from what I see so far you are very good.’
Everyone on the surveillance team was maintaining radio silence as they waited for the suspects to appear. It was 8:30 a.m. when the CROPS officer’s voice was heard over the radio.