‘He’s probably got a hooky accountant and doesn’t run every sale through the books. I’m just going to see how the wiretaps are going.’
He went into Kingston’s office. Two officers from CO11 intelligence unit had five reel-to-reel recorders set up to tape any conversations on the Ripleys’ work and home phones.
‘Anything interesting so far?’
‘No. A few calls to GR Motors about MOTs, servicing, et cetera, and O’Reilly ordering booze and crisps for the snooker club. Ripley’s wife, Maureen, has been on and off the phone all morning to caterers and friends about the wedding. You’ll like this — she’s talking to a friend of hers about the flowers.’
The officer rewound the tape and turned it on. She spoke in a screechy cockney accent.
‘The flowers are costin’ a bloody fortune. I could ’ave a dirty weekend in Southend for the price of the bridal bouquet... I mean, it’s a total load of bollocks, all this flingin’ it over your shoulder to the single gals,’ Maureen said.
‘Oh, don’t be mean, whoever catches it will have a future filled with love and happiness,’ her friend replied.
‘Well, I caught me sister’s and she ended up shaggin’ me first ’usband. All it did was fill me with a desire to cut ’is knackers off with a pair of scissors!’
Murphy laughed. ‘Ouch, I wouldn’t like to upset her. Let us know if you hear anything of interest.’
It was just after 3 p.m. The cafe was empty, and Nick put the closed sign on the door. Jane popped upstairs with the coffee cups and put them in a plastic bag in her shoulder bag. She then radioed in that the cafe was closing. Cam said Murphy wanted her to return to the station.
‘You done good work today, Jane,’ Nick said as she put her coat on.
She felt exhausted. ‘It’s been a long time since I was on my feet for so long. I wish I’d worn my trainers instead of my thin flat soles.’
‘You gonna come in tomorrow?’ he asked, opening the door.
‘I expect so, but it’s up to my boss. Arrivederci, Nick.’
Walking to her car, Jane thought about Kingston and wondered if he was corrupt and involved with the Ripley brothers. If he had lied, then Betty could be in danger. She knew if she told Murphy, or anyone on the team, she risked being ostracized for daring to question an experienced and respected officer’s integrity. She took a deep breath and blew it out in an effort to unclutter her mind. Seeing a public phone box, she dialed the lab and asked to speak to Paul Lawrence.
‘The Chubb key is still in the superglue chamber, but it looks like a finger mark is starting to develop.’
‘What size was the footprint on the toilet seat?’
He looked in his notes. ‘It’s a nine to ten Nike training shoe. Why?’
‘I thought one of our suspects called Aidan O’Reilly might have gone to the Crown last night to kill Fiona Simpson. He’s six foot four, so that shoe size seems unlikely for a man that tall.’
‘Height isn’t an exact predictor for shoe size. We’re all different — some tall people have tiny feet, some short people have huge feet. From my experience, a man that tall could wear a shoe size anywhere between a nine and a fourteen. Dabs told me about O’Reilly, so as soon as I get the fingerprint developed I’ll check it against O’Reilly first and let you know the result.’
‘Thanks. Catch you later.’
‘Come on, spit it out, what’s bothering you?’
‘Nothing. I’ve literally been on my feet and hardly slept in the last two days, so I’m really tired and irritable.’
She desperately wanted to tell Paul her suspicions about Kingston, but knew he would say not to jump to conclusions and wait for the fingerprint result on the Chubb key.
‘Then go home and get some rest.’
She gave a mirthless laugh. ‘I wish life was that simple.’
She put the phone down.
As she walked towards her car, Jane saw two men sitting in a vehicle parked behind hers. The passenger was leaning to one side and looking at Jane’s reflection in the wing mirror. She felt a sense of unease as the passenger opened his door and began to get out of the car. Her anxiety increased when he looked at her; she wondered if her cover had been blown and the Ripleys had sent someone to get her. The man was dressed smartly in a suit and tie but he had a menacing look about him. He started walking towards her and she knew she only had two choices — to run or to stand her ground. Her head was spinning, and she wondered if her physical and mental exhaustion was making her imagine things. The man put his hand inside his jacket and for a moment Jane was paralyzed with fear. She closed her eyes, thinking this was the end.
‘WDS Tennison? I’m Detective Chief Superintendent Leonard Bartlett.’ He spoke in a West Country accent.
She opened her eyes to see he was holding up a warrant card, but she didn’t recognize the police crest badge.
‘That’s not a Met warrant card,’ she said nervously.
‘I know, I’m from Dorset Police — same as DI Wickens, who’s me driver.’ He nodded towards the car. ‘I appreciate you’re very busy, but we’d just like to have a quick word with you.’
‘What about?’
‘I’d rather we spoke in the car.’
She remembered Dabs referring to Dorset Police as the ‘Sweedy’ when they first met.
‘Are you from Operation Countryman?’
‘Yes. I’m in charge of it, as it happens.’
‘Why do you want to speak to me? I haven’t done anything wrong.’
‘I know that, Jane. You’ve sailed a little close to the wind at times, but from what I’ve heard you’re as honest as the day is long — and the first women ever to be on the illustrious Flying Squad.’
She didn’t like his patronizing manner.
‘Have you been following me?’
‘Only today — and not me personally.’
She realized he must have put a surveillance team on her.
‘You could have blown my cover and put me in danger.’
‘We’re not that reckless. It’s some of your colleagues you should be more worried about.’
‘Like who?’ she asked, immediately thinking of Kingston.
He opened the rear nearside door and Jane got in. Bartlett turned his body to face her.
‘An underworld supergrass has claimed that members of the Flying Squad are receiving large sums of money for warning criminals of imminent arrests and police raids, and for dropping robbery charges. We also know that evidence is being fabricated by participating informants and their controlling officers so the reward money can be shared.’
Jane suddenly found herself thinking of the Colonel and the meeting with Gentleman Jim. She also knew that he and Kingston were close.
‘I still don’t see what this has got to do with me.’
‘Do you suspect anyone on your team of corruption?’ the DI asked.
Although Jane had her suspicions about Kingston and the Colonel, she wasn’t about to risk her career by making unsubstantiated allegations without knowing who Bartlett suspected.
‘I’ve only been on the squad since last Thursday, and to be honest, as a woman I haven’t been made very welcome. The rest of the team aren’t very open with me. It would help if you could give me some names.’
‘Our source said he’d heard it was one or two members of your team but wasn’t able to give us any names, but we’re confident he will,’ Bartlett said.
Jane wondered if they thought she was naive, and were just fishing for any sort of information that they could use to their advantage.
‘If I had evidence that an officer on the squad was corrupt, I can assure you I’d do something about it.’