The Dirty Dozen

by Lynda La Plante

  Still smiling tightly, Katie said, “I’d like that. Be good to get to know each other a bit better.”

  Kingston walked out of his office and looked at Jane.

  “Ready to go?”

  She picked up her coat and bag. “Katie’s out tonight so she won’t be joining us.”

  “That’s a shame. See you Monday then.”

  He walked past Katie without looking at her.

  Once Jane and Kingston had gone, Katie went to the window and watched Jane get in her car and follow Kingston down the road. She waited a few minutes, then grabbed her handbag and coat and left the office.

  Kingston paid the barman for a pint of lager and a white wine, then took the drinks over to Jane, who was sitting at a small round table by the window.

  “You want something to eat?” he asked, before taking a sip of his drink.

  “Are you having anything?”

  “Their scampi and chips in a basket isn’t bad—we could share if you’re not that hungry.”

  “One between us would be great.” She reached into her bag. “I’ll pay for it.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  He put his hand on her shoulder before going back to the bar to order the food.

  Jane wondered why such a nice bloke had got himself involved with Katie. It struck her that maybe he wanted out, but was worried Katie would react by telling his wife.

  “I ordered some bread and butter to go with it,” he said as he sat down. “I forgot to ask you this earlier, but have you done background checks on the Wilson sisters?”

  Jane nodded. “No trace in the CRO, and the electoral register confirms them living at the Broadwater Farm.”

  “What else do you know about them?”

  “Not a lot, other than their parents were killed in a car crash, and they were badly injured—that’s how Rachel became deaf. Their uncle looked after them for a bit, but couldn’t cope, so he put them in a children’s home. Beyond that I didn’t go into any detail about their past.”

  “Well, you need to check them out a bit more—”

  “They seemed genuine enough to me; I’ve no reason to think they’ve lied.”

  Jane was slightly vexed by his implication that they might be dishonest.

  “I’m not saying they lied to you, but Murphy will want to know if they are credible witnesses—and the courts, if we get that far. It’s to your advantage if they’re whiter than white.”

  Jane nodded. “I understand, but I think they’re decent people, and I do feel for them. They’ve been suffering verbal and physical abuse from some of the younger residents on the estate and are trying to get rehoused. They’ve written numerous letters to the council but each one’s been rejected.”

  “I know how tough Broadwater Farm can be. I was the DI at Tottenham for two years, so I know loads of residents apply for a move. It could just be they are well down the list.”

  “I was wondering if you knew anyone on the council who has a sympathetic ear?”

  “Can’t say I do. Have they reported the incidents to the local plods?”

  “No, they’re worried if police start asking questions on the estate, they’ll be subjected to even more abuse and intimidation. Are there any detectives at Tottenham who might be able to help?”

  “There’s a couple I can think of, but it depends on how you want it dealt with.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, there’s the heavy-handed approach—i.e. scare the shit out of the little bastards so they don’t do it again—or the more subtle approach to the council, telling them that if they can’t get the sisters a move they may well go to the press about the council’s lack of care for the deaf community.”

  “What about getting them a move under the witness protection program?”

  “You don’t know for sure yet that what Rachel told you is reliable. If the men were arrested and/or charged as a result of her information, then that’s a different matter. My advice would be to hold off on helping them for the time being. Then, if your further investigation pans out, we can review the situation and maybe get the witness protection unit on board.”

  “Should I at least tell them to report the incidents to the local officers?”

  “That would be a good start. I’ll contact DS Rickman at Tottenham—he’s the best man there to deal with it. I understand your feelings about Rachel and Emma, but you mustn’t let it cloud your judgement.”

  “Thanks for the advice.”

  Jane took a sip of her drink. It was good to know there was someone in the office she could trust.

  Katie parked her car, then got out and put on her coat and headscarf, before taking a deep breath and walking down the road towards the Prince of Wales. From the other side of the street she looked through the large front window of the pub, where she spotted Jane and Kingston sitting close together, engrossed in conversation and appearing to enjoy each other’s company.

  The waitress came over with their food.

  “Who’s for the scampi and chips with bread and butter?”

  “We’re sharing, so just stick it in the middle please,” Kingston said. “Is salt and vinegar OK or do you want any sauce?”

  “This is fine.”

  Jane unwrapped her cutlery from the napkin and stuck her fork in a chip. He picked up a chip and popped it in his mouth, then had to spit it out onto his hand as it was so hot.

  Jane laughed. “Serves you right,” she said, handing him a fork.

  He pushed it into a piece of scampi and held it up.

  “What do you call a crayfish with a messy room?” he asked Jane.

  “I don’t know . . . What do you call a crayfish with a messy room?”

  “A slobster!” he replied, and she couldn’t help laughing.

  “That’s a stupid joke.”

  “Yeah, but it made you laugh.”

  Katie was rooted to the spot, transfixed by the sight of them laughing and joking together. Then suddenly she ran back to her car, slammed the door and started thumping the steering wheel with her fists.

  “You bastards!” she shouted, before breaking down in tears.

  “Thank you for the scampi and chips, they were delicious.”

  “My pleasure. Have you got a boyfriend?”

  “Gosh, that’s a very direct question,” she said, laughing.

  “Well?”

  “Not at present.”

  “You surprise me—it’s hard to imagine an attractive young woman like you not being in a relationship.”

  “I find they generally end badly—so I’m quite happy being single.”

  “I was thinking, maybe we could go out for a meal one evening?” he asked, leaning across the table.

  “By ‘we,’ do you mean just the two of us?” she asked guardedly.

  He put a hand on her arm. “Is that a yes?”

  “No, it is not!” she said firmly, shrugging his hand off.

  “I’m sorry, Jane, I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just that I thought there was a bit of chemistry between the two of us.”

  She leaned towards him so they wouldn’t be overheard.

  “I never mix business with pleasure—and I certainly don’t go out with married men,” she said with a tight smile, then picked up her coat and bag to leave.

  “What’s going on here then?”

  The Colonel’s unmistakable voice boomed across the room. Jane looked up to see the Colonel, Stanley, Cam, Bax and Teflon walking towards them.

  “What are you doing here?” Kingston scowled, realizing he should have gone to another pub with Jane.

  “We’ve had a hard day and thought we’d enjoy a cozy drink like you and Treacle here.” The Colonel smirked.

  “Actually, I was just leaving.”

  Jane pushed past him and walked out of the pub.

  “Who’s rattled her cage?” The Colonel laughed. “Looks like you won’t be pulling her drawers down any time soon. You might as well give me that twenty quid now.”<
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  “The bet’s off,” Kingston snapped.

  The Colonel snapped his fingers twice and held his hand out. Kingston took a twenty-pound note from his wallet with a scowl and handed it over.

  “I’ll have a pint of lager and whisky chaser.”

  He downed the rest of his pint in one.

  The office was empty when Katie returned from the pub. She threw her coat and handbag down on a desk, opened one of the steel cabinets by the wall and took out a large duffle bag. Inside was a range of equipment the team used to force entry into premises and to fit trackers and listening devices to cars and houses. She removed a twelve-inch crowbar, weighed it in her hand, then replaced it in the bag. She rummaged around until she found the assorted screwdriver case, then selected the two smallest ones. She crouched down by Jane’s desk so the side drawer lock was at eye level. She inserted one of the screwdrivers into the lock and jiggled it about a bit, then tried with the smaller one. After a few twists and turns the drawer popped open.

  “You can’t hide things from me, Little Miss Perfect,” she said, reaching in to remove Jane’s pocket notebook and Rachel’s notes.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jane got in her car and took a few deep breaths to calm herself down. She’d been enjoying Kingston’s company and thought there was a mutual respect between the two of them, but now it seemed it was all an act to get her into bed.

  How could I have been so stupid?

  It had probably been thoughtless to snub his advances so forcefully. Would he now back her up when they spoke to Murphy about the Wilson sisters and the possible surveillance operations? Did it mean, yet again, she’d have to fight her own corner?

  “Why does this shit always happen to me?” she muttered as she started the engine.

  She knew if she went straight home she was still so upset she wouldn’t be able to get to sleep for ages. She decided to go back to the office and get her pocket notebook and Rachel’s notes, so she could type up her report at home after a calming hot bath and a glass of wine.

  Katie was busy photocopying and didn’t hear Jane come in.

  “I thought you’d have gone home by now,” Jane said and Katie jumped.

  “You startled me. What are you doing back here?”

  “I’m just picking up my notes so I can type my report at home.”

  “Murphy doesn’t like people to take their work home. You know, in case they lose it and it gets into the wrong hands,” Katie said quickly.

  “It’s all right,” Jane explained. “The notes are in my pocket notebook, which like every police officer I carry with me on the streets when I’m out making enquiries and often take home.”

  She got her keys out of her coat pocket and opened her desk drawer.

  “What the fuck? Someone’s been in my desk and taken all my notes!”

  “You’re joking!” Katie said, putting her hand to her mouth in apparent surprise.

  “Has anyone been back to the office while I was out?”

  “Only Murphy. I nipped out to the loo while he was here—”

  “Well, he must have a skeleton key because I locked it,” she said, turning towards his office.

  “I think he has. Maybe he’s taken them with him to read.”

  “He’s got no bloody right to do that!” Jane snapped.

  She went into Murphy’s office and started to search his desk. Katie gathered up her photocopying, then put it in the bottom of her desk tray and started typing.

  “Were they in his office?” she asked as Jane reappeared.

  “No. As much of an arsehole as Murphy is, I can’t believe he would be so underhand. Did the Colonel come back here earlier?”

  “No, I’ve not seen or heard from him since this afternoon.”

  Jane checked the Colonel’s desk and trays. Then, as she scanned the room, she noticed two small screwdrivers on the table next to the photocopier. She looked at Katie, who was still typing with her head down. Jane thought it strange that she hadn’t lifted a finger to help her search for the notes. She checked the office duty sheet and saw that the Colonel had booked off about ten minutes before he came into the pub.

  “The Colonel must have been in as he’s booked off duty,” Jane said, looking at Katie.

  “Really? Well, he might have come in just after Murphy while I was on the loo, then left before I got back to my desk.”

  Jane checked the duty sheet again and saw that Stanley, Cam, Bax and Teflon had booked off at the same time as the Colonel, meaning he wouldn’t have been able to take her notes without the rest of them seeing. She also realized there was no way Katie couldn’t have seen or heard all four of them in the office, even if she was in the toilet, as it was just a few feet away in the corridor.

  “How did Murphy know my notes were in my top drawer?”

  “I don’t know—but it’s an obvious place to keep them,” Katie replied nervously.

  “You can tell me if you saw Murphy take them. I won’t rat on you.”

  Katie’s mouth had gone dry and she licked her lips.

  “Like I said before, I was on the loo, so he or the Colonel could have taken them.”

  Jane remembered seeing Katie by the photocopier and recalled something she herself had inadvertently done a few times when using it. She lifted the lid and her suspicions were confirmed.

  “You’re not half as clever as you think you are, Katie,” Jane said calmly. “You’re also a shit liar.”

  “What on earth are you talking about?” she asked, trying to look surprised.

  “Cut the act, Katie. You were the last person to use the photocopier—and look what you left behind.” Jane removed the piece of notepaper from the copier. “This is the description of the men in the cafe—in Rachel Wilson’s handwriting. How do you explain that?”

  “Murphy or the Colonel must have left it there,” she said straight-faced.

  Jane picked up the screwdrivers and banged them down on Katie’s desk.

  “You used these to unlock my drawer, didn’t you?”

  “I wasn’t using the copier, I was trying to fix the top—it had a loose screw and I left the screwdrivers on the table.”

  Jane snorted. “You’re the one with the loose screw. Now where are my notes?” she demanded.

  “I haven’t got your fucking notes!” Katie shouted, knocking her chair over as she stood up. “I’ve done nothing wrong and won’t be spoken to like this. I’m going home.”

  She picked up her handbag and Jane ripped it out of her hand.

  “You’re going nowhere,” she said, standing between Katie and the door.

  Kate was going red in the face. “You have no right to keep me here against my will!”

  Jane opened Katie’s handbag and tipped the contents on the floor, but neither her pocket notebook nor Rachel’s notes were there.

  “You see, I haven’t got them.”

  Jane noticed Katie make a quick glance towards her desk. She started rummaging through Katie’s filing trays and quickly found her pocket notebook and the rest of Rachel’s notes, along with photocopies of them. She held them up for Katie to see.

  Katie shrugged. “I’ll deny it and say you’re lying. Murphy will have you kicked off the squad before you know it.”

  Jane thought for a moment. “Did Murphy tell you to take the notes and copy them?”

  Katie said nothing, her eyes full of contempt. Jane decided to try and rattle her.

  “I’ll take your silence as a yes, but tell me: Who do you think Kingston will believe—me or you?”

  “He’ll believe me. He wants rid of you just as much as Murphy and everyone else does.”

  “That’s not the impression he gave me in the pub earlier; he was all over me. He definitely didn’t want you there to cramp his style.”

  Katie began to shake with anger.

  “You’re lying—it was you that was all over him and he rejected you.”

  Jane was taken aback. “Were you spying on us at the pub?”
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  “If you think you can take Stewart from me you’re wrong. He loves me.”

  Jane laughed. “If you think being fucked on a weightlifting bench is love you need your brains tested.”

  Her eyes opened wide. “You were watching us in the gym!”

  “And I can’t wait to tell the rest of the team—”

  Katie screamed, launching herself towards Jane with her fingers splayed like a cat’s claws.

  Jane took a step backwards.

  “You’re a fucking bitch, Tennison!” Katie shouted as she stepped forward.

  Acting instinctively, Jane blocked Katie’s right hand with her left and landed a straight right on Katie’s chin, knocking her off her feet and onto the floor. She lay there for a long moment, eyes wide open staring into space. Jane thought she’d knocked her out, but then she took a deep, rasping breath and started to cry. She put her fingers to her split lip and they came away bloody.

  “You cut me,” she sobbed.

  “You’ll live,” Jane said, grabbing a wad of tissues from the box on Katie’s desk. She helped her sit up and pressed the tissues against her lip. “No more games, Katie. I want to know what’s going on.”

  Katie took a couple of deep breaths. “All right. I was told to keep an eye on you and find out what you were doing in the hope you’d mess up.”

  “Who told you to spy on me?”

  “Murphy.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. Was Kingston involved?”

  “No, he didn’t want any part of it. He stuck up for you and I was jealous because I thought he fancied you, so I didn’t mind doing what Murphy wanted. Oh my God, my lip is split open!”

  Jane realized there was at least some truth in what Katie said about Kingston. He had given her valuable advice. She grabbed another wad of tissues and dabbed some more of the blood off Katie’s lip.

  “My advice would be to break it off with Kingston. I know from personal experience work relationships are doomed to fail, especially when a married man is involved.”

  Jane looked up to see Murphy framed in the doorway with a surprised look on his face.

  “What the fuck’s going on?” he exclaimed.

  Jane glared at him. “Why don’t you tell me?”