The Dirty Dozen

by Lynda La Plante

  “Teflon and Cam are still out taking statements from the patrol car crew and some civilian witnesses. The Colonel and Bax called in. They spoke to the owner of the car used in the robbery and are checking out what he told them.”

  “Do they think he was involved?”

  “Not in the robbery itself, but they thought there was something about his car being stolen that didn’t add up.”

  “What was it?”

  “They didn’t tell me all the details. They were just calling in.”

  “Sounds like I’m the only one who forgot to do that.”

  “Yes, but like I said, Murphy and the others don’t know that. I told him you’d interviewed Emma Wilson and it turned out to be a waste of time.”

  “It was actually quite productive—”

  “I thought you said she didn’t hear anyone talking in the cafe?”

  “She didn’t—her deaf sister did.”

  Katie laughed. “A deaf person heard them talking? Are you pulling my leg, Jane?”

  “No, she can lip-read. On Monday she saw two men in a Tottenham cafe moving condiments and sugar lumps around the table. From what she told me I think there’s a strong possibility it might be connected to our investigation.”

  “I see what you mean now when you said it was a bit surreal. Sounds like you did a good job though.”

  Katie was trying to keep a straight face, knowing Murphy would be rolling on the floor with laughter when he heard about it.

  “It would have been a lot easier if the duty sergeant at Tottenham had done his job properly when he spoke to Emma Wilson. She went to the station on Tuesday evening and specifically told him it was her sister who was in the cafe and she was deaf, but he didn’t tell us until Thursday night and deliberately left out significant details. I reckon he knows he messed up and giving you the bare bones was an attempt to cover up his cock-up.”

  “I know Geoff Harris from when I was the CID clerk at Tottenham—he’s one of the older sergeants and is usually very competent. I should have asked for more details when he phoned over the information.”

  “It’s not your fault, Katie, you can only go by what he told you.”

  “Did you have a word with him about his attitude?”

  “I thought about it, but I was in a rush to get to Wood Green and back here, so I didn’t have the time. It’s probably best to just let it go now I’ve spoken to the Wilson sisters—two sergeants having a head to head won’t achieve anything.”

  “Well, if Harris phones again I’ll be giving him a piece of my mind.”

  “What’s happening about the weekend? Is everyone in, or half the team Saturday and half Sunday?” Jane asked, wanting to change the subject.

  “Murphy told me to tell you to take the weekend off.”

  “Just me, or everyone?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I was hoping to make some follow-up enquiries on what I was told today and some of the names I’ve uncovered. Do you think it would be worth phoning him at home later, or in the morning, to update him and ask if I could work a voluntary shift on Saturday and Sunday?”

  “I wouldn’t—he gets really annoyed if his weekends are disturbed over something trivial. Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply what you just said is trivial, but Murphy only likes to act on really solid information, so you might want to reassess what you’ve got before speaking to him.”

  “Fair enough. Guess I’ll just have to try and get as much done as possible tonight—after I’ve typed up my notes.”

  Jane picked up the typewriter from the Colonel’s desk with a sigh and moved it to her desk.

  “Is there anything I can do to help you?” Katie asked.

  “Are you authorized to use the office PNC?”

  “Yes. You want some checks done?”

  “Yes please.” Jane grabbed a pen and piece of paper and wrote the details down. “I just need a printout for Thomas Anthony Ripley, IC1, born 8/10/34, and a search on an Aidan O’Reilly, but I don’t have a date of birth or any other details for him, and he could be anywhere between thirty and fifty.”

  “You’ll probably get loads of hits for O’Reilly. It’s a pretty common Irish name.”

  She handed Katie the details. “I know, but the only way I’m going to narrow it down is by a process of elimination. Did you say Kingston was in his office?”

  Katie nodded. Jane grabbed her pocket notebook, and Rachel’s, from her shoulder bag and went to knock on Kingston’s door.

  “I think I should tell him about my enquiries today. At least I’ll get some genuine appreciation from him,” Jane said with a smile.

  Katie felt herself reddening.

  “You’d better bloody not, you bitch!” she muttered to herself.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jane sat opposite Kingston as he carefully read her notes of the conversation she’d had with Rachel Wilson.

  “These notes are very detailed and interesting, especially what was said by M1 on the Monday and today—you’ve done really well, Jane.” He smiled.

  “Thank you, sir. I also have the original notes Rachel made about what she lip-read on the Monday, and the descriptions of M1 and M2 that she wrote down for me today.” She handed them to Kingston.

  “I don’t mind you calling me Stewart when we’re talking one to one like this or off duty.” He read Rachel’s descriptions.

  “It was all from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.”

  “How reliable do you think her lip-reading is?”

  “Very reliable, she’s been doing it for years, though she did say that making out names can be difficult. But she was certain M2 was called Tommy and reasonably sure M1 said the names Webley and Judge.”

  Kingston looked at the notes. “The way I’m reading it, M1 would cover the back of the van with another person who’s probably the loose cannon, M2 would cover the front with Webley, and Judge was the getaway driver in the Cortina.”

  “Yes, that’s what I thought as well.”

  “Which adds up to five people being involved. But all our witnesses said there were only four, and one man covered the front—not two.”

  “It’s possible the other man never went on the robbery.”

  “Or M1 might not have been talking about the Leytonstone bank robbery. You need to be open-minded and consider alternative possibilities.”

  “I know, but this morning at the cafe, M1 said, ‘Yesterday was a total fuck-up’ and ‘Riley was a hothead.’ We know that an off-duty PC got shot and the man in the front passenger seat of the Cortina fired at the patrol car with a handgun—maybe that’s what M1 meant by a fuck-up.”

  “Again, it might not have been a robbery he was referring to, but there’s something else M1 said that could arguably link to our investigation. He said he’d have to get a loan for Tina’s wedding as a monkey wasn’t enough. Two grand was in the Securicor cash box they got away with—which, divided by four, is a ‘monkey’ each.”

  “Rachel thinks M2 might be connected to a snooker hall opposite the cafe. I’ve got some names from Companies House, which are all connected to the hall, and one of them has a criminal record.”

  Jane looked in her pocket notebook and told him about her enquiries at Tottenham Police Station and the conversations she had had with the collator there, and at Chingford Police Station, then finally her flying visit to Wood Green.

  “Bloody hell, you have been ferreting away today.”

  “Rachel may have been wrong about the name Riley. I think M1 might have said O’Reilly, and it’s reasonable to assume Tommy may be Thomas Ripley. Aidan O’Reilly lives at 94A Seven Sisters Road, which is where Ripley used to live. Ripley also has a conviction for GBH—admittedly it was just over twenty years ago, but it shows a propensity for violence. I’ve ordered his case file and it should be here by Monday.”

  “Any CRO records for O’Reilly or Maria Fernandez?”

  “There’s a load of possibles for O’Reilly and nothing on Fernandez, but she’
s shown as a secondary keyholder for the snooker club. Obviously, I’ll need to do more work on all the names I’ve got so far. Finding out who M1 is is key as it may reveal further connections to Ripley and O’Reilly. The collator at Tottenham knows the cafe owner and says he’s an honest man who’s given him information before.”

  “Is the collator still Kevin Bottomley?”

  Jane nodded. “Yes, and the cafe owner’s called Nick.”

  “Kevin was the collator when I was the DI at Tottenham—he’s reliable and trustworthy. It might be worth asking him to speak to the cafe owner, without giving too much away—or you could get Kevin to introduce you to him and do it together.”

  “He did offer to speak to Nick, but I said not at the moment. Bottomley is off over the weekend, but I’ll speak to him on Monday morning.”

  “Rachel mentioned M1 said something to Camel Hair Coat Man about having ‘a nice XJS on the front if he was interested’—sounds like the sort of thing a car dealer might say.”

  “Rachel knows nothing about the makes or models of cars, but she’s got an excellent memory, almost photographic I’d say. Her description of Camel Hair Coat Man’s car is good, so I was thinking of making up an album of lots of different sports type cars and see if she can pick.”

  Kingston opened his desk drawer and took out what Jane thought was a newspaper and handed it to her.

  “This is the latest issue of Exchange & Mart—it’s full of new and used motors of all makes and sizes.”

  Jane shook her head. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “Because you’re a woman, and you let your boyfriends, husbands or fathers buy cars for you,” he said with a smirk.

  She laughed. “I’ll have you know I bought my car all on my own, thank you.”

  “Which explains the color. Can I see your notes again, please?”

  She handed them to him.

  “What are your feelings about the man in the camel hair coat?” he asked.

  “On the face of it, the conversation M1 had with him didn’t suggest they were talking about a robbery. It could have been something to do with a business deal, and the envelope he gave to M1 could have contained a contract or something like that.”

  He looked at Jane’s notes. “Agreed, but M1 wouldn’t show M2 the contents of the envelope and said something to do with ‘champagne and caviar for life.’ If they were to commit a massive robbery it would set them up for life—and you have to wonder why M1 was so guarded about the envelope and wouldn’t open it in the cafe if it was just a business contract.”

  “Do you think it might have contained plans for a robbery?”

  “If the men in the cafe were involved in yesterday’s botched job, they could be planning another one to make up for it.”

  “Does that mean I can make further enquiries about them?” Jane asked.

  “Murphy will have to make that decision, but as far as I’m concerned the answer’s yes.”

  “I’m not exactly his flavor of the month.”

  “I can’t see how he can ignore your information—especially as it’s the only lead we’ve got that’s worth pursuing so far. You’ve got the weekend to do some more digging—”

  “Katie told me that Murphy said I was to take the weekend off.”

  “On the basis of what you’ve uncovered so far I’m authorizing you to work it.”

  “Can I have that in writing?”

  “I’m sticking my neck out for you as it is. You need to firm up what you’ve got so far and keep digging for more if you want to convince Murphy to put a surveillance team on Ripley and O’Reilly.”

  “I could go to the snooker hall and have a snoop around.”

  He laughed. “No offence, Jane, but you’d stand out like a sore thumb—snooker halls are men’s dens.”

  “What about using Dabs? He said he plays snooker for the Met team.”

  “That’s not a bad idea—he’s a short-arse and doesn’t look like Old Bill. For now, just keep what you’ve told me between the two of us. Get someone else on the team to help you with your enquiries.”

  “Teflon helped me this morning when I first went to Broadwater Farm. Can I use him and maybe Cam as well if I need him?”

  “I’m fine with Teflon, but Cam’s a driver, not a detective. You can use him to make phone enquiries if you want.”

  “Will you be telling Murphy they’re assisting me?”

  “Stop worrying about what Murphy thinks, just do your job and let’s see what else you might uncover before we talk to Murphy on Monday. The more ammo you’ve got to fire at him, the more difficult it’ll be for him to ignore you.”

  “I doubt he’ll agree with me on anything.”

  “I’ll back you up.”

  “Do you think he might authorize making some arrests and searching their homes—and the snooker hall?”

  “I doubt he’d go as far as arrests at the moment. Sadly Barclays informed us the cash that was stolen is untraceable and there’s no solid evidence that the men in the cafe were responsible for the Leytonstone job. If they’re planning another robbery, Murphy will want to nick them on the pavement with the goods in their grubby little hands.”

  “Is it worth me taking Rachel to the Criminal Records Office at the Yard to look through the mugshot albums?”

  “I’d hold off on that for now. Thomas Ripley’s mugshot is twenty years old and if she failed to pick him out it wouldn’t help the investigation. She’s seen M1 and M2 regularly in the cafe, so identifying them from surveillance photos won’t be a problem.”

  “The cafe owner had an advert in the window for a waitress. If he took me on, and Rachel’s in the cafe, she could give me the nod when the men we’re interested in come in. I could nip out the back, radio the surveillance unit, then we’d know exactly who to photograph and follow when they leave.”

  “You ever done any undercover work?”

  “I was a decoy for a serial rapist. He attacked me, but I still managed to arrest him. And I was a waitress in my school holidays, so I know how to act the part.”

  He rubbed his chin. “It’s risky, and I can’t make that decision, Jane. I’d need to run it by Murphy first.”

  “Thanks for your support, Stewart.”

  “Keep up the good work and Murphy will have to change his mind about you.” He looked at his watch. “You fancy discussing this further over a quick drink in the pub?”

  “I would, but I’ve still got to write up today’s report.”

  “Do it over the weekend, you’ve had a busy day and deserve a drink.”

  “All right, but just a quick one.”

  “We use the Prince of Wales—it’s just down the road by the river. I’ll drive if you want.”

  “I’ll take my car, then I can head off home from there as it’s en route. What about Katie?”

  “What’s she done now?” He sighed.

  “Nothing, I just wondered if she’d like to join us.”

  “Have you told her what you told me?”

  “Not everything. She only knows that Rachel Wilson is deaf and lip-read what was said—plus I gave her a couple of the names to do PNC checks on.”

  Kingston ran his finger around the collar of his shirt.

  “It’s not that I don’t trust Katie, but she can be a bit of a rumor-monger. I’m worried that if we discuss the case in front of her, she might say something to Murphy. It’s probably best to tell her that you’re going home . . . and I’ll do the same.”

  “I don’t like to be underhand. We could discuss it now and then ask Katie if she’d like to join us.”

  Kingston looked a little annoyed. “What else is there you need to tell me?”

  “Rachel said the man Tommy wore a pendant round his neck with gold boxing gloves on it. As you were a boxer, I wondered if that type of thing was an award of some sort?”

  “I doubt it. Usually you get a cup or a championship winner’s belt. I’ve seen boxing glove pendants, but it doesn’t actually mean he�
�s a boxer.”

  “I was just thinking, maybe if I speak to Nick over the weekend, and he’s agreeable to me working as a waitress, then I could start Monday morning—”

  “There’s no rush, Jane. If Murphy approves it on Monday, we could start the surveillance on Tuesday.”

  “Rachel said she’s only ever seen M1 and M2 in the cafe together on a Monday or Friday. Why waste three days on an observation when we could identify them in one? We could put a surveillance team on them, get some good photographs and maybe ID their associates.”

  He thought about it. “Speak to Nick when the place is closed. If you think he’s as trustworthy as Kevin Bottomley says, ask him if a couple of officers can use his upstairs flat as an observation point until we can find a single OP that overlooks both the cafe and the snooker hall.”

  “Is that a yes for me to start waitressing on Monday if Nick agrees?”

  He shook his head. “No, I’m on duty over the weekend and Murphy’s off. You can keep me updated and I’ll decide on the next course of action. Anything else you want to talk about?”

  “No, that’s all I can think of for now.”

  “Then let’s go and have that drink.”

  She picked up her pocket notebook and Rachel’s notes, then returned to the main office, where she saw the PNC printouts on her desk.

  “Thanks for these, Katie,” she said, picking them up.

  “My pleasure. How’d it go with Kingston? Was he pleased with your information?” Katie asked, avoiding eye contact.

  “Some of it, but he wants me to make further enquiries over the weekend—see if I can ‘firm up’ what I’ve got before approaching Murphy.”

  “That’s sound advice. What have you got so far?”

  She forced a smile as Jane unlocked the drawer in her desk and put in her pocket notebook with Rachel’s notes.

  “Not as much as I thought, but hopefully I’ll uncover more. Kingston said to ask if you wanted to join us for a drink at the Prince of Wales.”

  Jane locked the drawer and pocketed the key.

  “I’d love to but I’m out tonight and I’ve got a couple of things to finish off here before I head home.”

  “Maybe another time then—just the two of us.”