‘That’s why we wanted to speak to you. Do you have any suspects in your current robbery investigation?’
‘You know I’m not obliged to tell you anything about our investigations.’
‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ the DI said with a wry smile.
Jane didn’t like his attitude.
‘You can take it however you like... sir. Unless there’s anything else you’d like to ask me, I’ve got work to do.’
Bartlett sighed. ‘We don’t like what we do, Jane, but it’s vital to stamp out corruption in the Met. Here’s my card. It would be to your advantage to contact me if you suspect anyone on your team of corruption.’
‘What do you mean, to my advantage?’
‘I’d hate to see an honest officer get dragged under by association with a dishonest one.’
She got out of the car and slammed the door.
‘Fucking arseholes,’ she said to herself.
She was disgusted with their veiled threats and underhand methods. Even if she did discover evidence to prove that Kingston, the Colonel or any member of the squad was corrupt, Bartlett and his cronies would be the last people she’d tell.
Chapter Thirty
Returning to Rigg Approach, Jane’s feet were so sore from waitressing that she trudged up the stairs using the safety pole to pull herself forward.
‘Christ, you look knackered,’ Cam said as soon as he saw her.
‘I’ll tell you what, it’s a lot easier pounding the beat than being a waitress.’
She took off her shoes, sat down and started to massage her feet.
‘How’d it go at the cafe?’
‘Not much to tell, really.’
‘I spoke to that PC at Wood Green this morning about Asil Osman. He made some enquiries and phoned back earlier. Asil wasn’t part of Osman’s gang, and helped the CID to locate his brother after he assaulted his wife. I won’t bore you with all the details, but the fruit export company he owns appears legit. Here’s the company name and address, and the PC’s details if you want to speak to him about it.’
He handed her a bit of paper with the details.
Jane was surprised.
‘So, his money isn’t hooky?’
‘He’s opened a distribution warehouse over here and from the enquiries I’ve made with Customs and Excise it doesn’t appear he’s importing drugs.’
‘Is Murphy in?’
Cam nodded, and she went straight to his office.
‘Lost your shoes?’ Murphy asked.
‘Do you mind if I sit down? My feet are killing me.’
‘Be my guest. What happened at the cafe?’
‘I didn’t hear what the Ripleys were talking about, though we did have some casual conversation while I was serving them. George is the more dominant, likes the sound of his own voice and thinks he’s funny. Truth is he’s an ignorant pig of a man with no manners, but Tommy seemed OK.’
‘When he’s not robbing banks with a sawn-off in his hand,’ Murphy reminded her.
‘Point taken.’
‘Did Rachel Wilson turn up?’
‘Yes.’ She handed him the note. ‘She slipped me this.’
He read it and handed it back.
‘Doesn’t tell us much... Banks are closed on a Saturday, so “sorting out the driver” probably refers to one of the bridal cars. The other bit about putting the frighteners on a woman is the sort of thing they do, but it could be anyone.’
She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.
‘You don’t think it’s Fiona Simpson?’
‘Jesus Christ, you’ve really got a bee in your bonnet about her—’
‘Lawrence found some shoe prints on the toilet seat, which suggests someone might have been hiding in the toilets waiting for her to close the pub. I’ve got a gut feeling that it might have been one of our suspects.’
‘I’ve spoken to Lawrence and I agree with you.’
‘You do?’ she asked, surprised.
‘I’ve informed the divisional DI who’s investigating her death that as soon as we’ve completed our operation, he is free to interview the Ripleys and the other suspects about Simpson’s death.’
‘Why can’t we, if we arrest them?’
‘Because we deal with robberies,’ he said firmly, indicating the matter was closed.
Cam knocked on the door and popped his head in.
‘The surveillance team are wondering if you want to put anyone on Graham Smith and Carl when they leave work.’
‘Tail them and find out where they live. If they can find an OP or use an OBO van on Smith then watch him until he beds down, but don’t worry about Carl. We haven’t got enough officers for a static observation on him.’
‘OK, Guv.’ Cam left.
‘Carl is George Ripley’s stepson and Tina is his daughter,’ Jane said. ‘He speaks to Carl like he’s a piece of dirt and treats him like an errand boy.’
‘Well, your errand boy went to a builder’s merchant’s earlier and bought some coveralls. You know, the kind of thing a robber likes to wear.’
‘I was serving them when George Ripley gave Carl some money and said to get some “stuff for Smudge”.’
‘Well, he obviously knew what he meant when George said “stuff”.’
‘I’m not so sure. George gave him a piece of paper with what to buy written on it.’
‘The fact is he bought four, and somehow I doubt they were all for Graham Smith. Anything else of value?’
‘The wedding reception is being held at Farthings in a marquee.’
He gave her a quizzical look. ‘How’d you find that out?’
‘Carl invited me to the wedding and—’
‘Jesus Christ, I hope you said no,’ he snapped.
‘I was caught in an awkward situation. George Ripley had been ribbing him about not having anyone to take to the wedding and Carl asked me out of the blue. It was a bit odd, but I saw it as an opportunity to gather more information about the Ripleys. There’s no OP at the church or overlooking the grounds of the house, so I thought I could blend in at the wedding and take photographs of the guests with a pocket camera.’
‘Well, you bloody well thought wrong. I’m not risking you giving the game away and screwing this operation up in a honey trap! The answer is no and that’s final.’
‘Do you still want me to work in the cafe?’
She already suspected what his answer would be.
‘No, I want you in the office where you can’t screw things up. Tell Cam you’re replacing him and he can drive Kingston and the Colonel, then book off duty and go home.’
‘I need to write up my report.’
‘Do it tomorrow. Now get out of my sight before I really lose my temper.’
Jane bit back an angry retort and walked out of Murphy’s office, silently fuming. She picked up her jacket and shoes, then slung her bag over her shoulder.
‘Murphy said you’re back driving the car and I’m in here, from tomorrow morning.’
‘Why, what did you do?’ Cam asked.
‘My fucking job!’
She stormed out of the office.
Jane’s anger hadn’t abated by the time she got home. In fact, if anything she was even more furious. She went straight to the fridge and poured herself a glass of wine. She took a large mouthful, then banged the glass down on the kitchen counter and went to her bedroom. She opened the wardrobe and looked through her dresses, then took one out and held it up against her body as she looked in the mirror.
‘Fine, I won’t go to the bloody wedding. But nobody said anything about going out for a drink, did they?’
She turned one way and then the other.
‘Nope, too dowdy.’ She threw the dress on the bed and grabbed another one. ‘Too short.’ She threw it on the bed, said, ‘Out of fashion’ with the next, until finally, after taking out six dresses, she decided on the one to wear.