Jane wasn’t happy about being used as a personal waitress, but she’d already been warned by Kath that when a senior officer told you to do something you did as asked or your cards were marked. First she went to the control room and sent out the telex and radio message regarding Eddie Phillips. Next Jane got the bacon sandwiches and coffees, then with a forced smile took them into Bradfield’s office. Gibbs was also hungover and stank of stale booze. For once his manic energy had been stifled – he wasn’t even tapping on the table, playing drums as he usually liked to do. Once back in the incident room Jane continued with the indexing. The eight detectives on the squad gradually came in to book on before wandering off for some breakfast. Most of them were polite, asked who she was and introduced themselves, but there were two or three who seemed to turn their noses up at her and didn’t have the courtesy to even say good morning. One of them even had the cheek to ask her to get him a cup of tea, but she fibbed and told him DCI Bradfield had said that she wasn’t to be the tea lady for junior officers. It had the desired result as the detective grunted and walked off without a word. She was learning fast.
Two detectives were in the office when Kath came in with a face like thunder.
‘Which one of you lot thought it would be amusing to draw on my notice?’ she bellowed and waved the sign from the ladies’ locker room above her head.
Jane could see a drawing of testicles and a large penis, the head of which had a smiley face on it.
‘If it happens again then I will be taking fucking finger-prints. Yours are all on file and I’ll easily find the culprit, so leave my notices alone.’
The two detectives laughed and said it was nothing to do with them.
‘Just like cling film on the toilet bowl, I suppose? Use your own bloody loo, or next time I’ll have your tackle hanging from the door.’
‘Ouch,’ they both said as they left for the canteen.
Although Jane agreed with Kath, and thought it was a very childish prank, she had to force herself not to giggle. She suspected the drawing was DS Gibbs’s work, having heard him chatting to Bradfield outside the locker room the previous evening, but she kept quiet.
‘Good for you, Kath.’
‘Bloody detectives are supposed to be experienced and mature, but they behave more like a bunch of kids. They even come on duty and go straight off to the canteen for breakfast.’
‘I know – in uniform we don’t even get a cuppa after parade because we have to go straight out on patrol.’
Kath shook her head and having calmed herself down said she’d help Jane with the indexing before the meeting.
The team gathered in the small office, some sitting on chairs whilst others perched on the edge of desks. When DCI Bradfield entered with DS Gibbs everyone stood up and the DCI motioned with his hands for them to sit down. He pointed in the direction of Kath and Jane.
‘I’m sure most of you already know WPC Morgan. She’ll be working with us for a few days and-’
A detective interjected. ‘If you can’t see Kath, you’ll always be able to hear her coming, guv.’ He then made the sound of a foghorn which caused ripples of laughter round the room. Kath refrained from responding and simply smiled.
Bradfield continued, ‘And this is WPC Tennison, who’s filling in for Sally for a bit whilst she’s on maternity leave.’
‘How’s the father feel about that?’ a detective asked.
‘How should I know? I’ve never met Sally’s husband,’ Bradfield remarked irritably.
‘I didn’t mean Sally’s old man, guv… I meant DC Ashby.’
There was more laughter round the room and Jane wasn’t sure if Ashby’s face was red with anger or embarrassment at the remark. DS Gibbs told them all to shut up and behave. Kath leant over to Jane and whispered that everyone thought DC Ashby was having an affair with Sally as they had once been caught coming out of the ladies’ locker room together on a night shift.
Bradfield proceeded by asking what the hell had gone wrong with the re-arrest of Eddie Phillips. Jane now realized why he had been so mad when he came in that morning. DC Ashby explained that Eddie wasn’t at the squat or his grandmother, Nancy Phillips’ flat when night-shift officers turned up there at midnight. Nor was he there at 6 a.m. when Ashby and a colleague visited the flat. She was a tough lady with iron-grey hair who told them to fuck off and stop harassing her and her grandson. Then, whilst searching the place, they had taken further abuse about causing her angina to flare up.
Bradfield took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. ‘Bloody marvellous, so it looks like the lying little shit has done a runner.’
The office door opened and DS Paul Lawrence walked in. He apologized for being late and explained that he’d been busy discussing some forensic results with the scientist and they had both worked in the lab until after midnight on the case. He handed Bradfield an envelope and said it contained photographs of the scene and postmortem.
