‘It’s only what I heard. You gotta watch these forensic scientists – they’re all smooth talk and touchy-feely. I think he’s attractive in a sort of public-school way. Why not put yourself down for another one of his lectures?’
‘I wouldn’t mind another lecture but there’s no date if he’s married.’
Kath pursed her lips, smiling.
‘Well, you’re quite a prude, aren’t you, Jane Tennison?’
‘I don’t think not dating a married man, children or not, has anything to do with being a prude. Why get into something that isn’t going to do anything but cause hurt and emotional stress?’
‘You’re not gay, are you?’
‘No I am not! Honestly, Kath, you’re really embarrassing me.’
‘Well, I don’t know, you could be, as I’ve never seen you out with any of the guys from this station. Mind you, I can’t say I blame you as most of them are only interested in havin’ a quick shag. Are you dating a fella or shacked up with anyone?’
‘You know that I live at home with my parents.’
‘Oh Christ yes, I forgot. Did you fill in that request form for a section-house room?’
‘Yes, but I haven’t heard back yet.’
‘I know there’s a space coming up, and you’ll have your pick of three floors of guys. Lotta drinking and sex goes on, but there’s a uniform sergeant in charge who’s like Godzilla. Heaven forbid if he catches you going in or coming out of one of the men’s rooms, and vice versa for the blokes. Mind you I suppose living at home is not conducive to having a hot fling.’
‘Kath, for heaven’s sake!’
‘My God, don’t tell me you’re a virgin?’
Jane had her back to the door. She was about to reply when she realized there were two men listening in behind her. They were both dressed scruffily in jeans and T-shirts and one had long, manky-looking hair and a droopy moustache. Kath burst into giggles, as Jane flushed bright red having been caught out twice in the space of minutes. The younger of the two detectives winked at Jane and said he lived in room 12 at the section house on the first floor. His mate commented that unfortunately he was married and lived at home, but having heard what Kath had just said he was now thinking of moving to the section house. They both laughed loudly and asked where DCI Bradfield was. Kath, still laughing, said he was in the canteen and they left the room.
‘I’m sorry, Jane, but you should have seen them with their jaws wide open.’
‘Who were they?’ Jane asked.
‘Drug squad guys by the looks of it.’
‘Does the one with the scruffy hair really live in the section house?’
‘No, but I wish he did,’ Kath replied with a leering smile.
Jane was unsure how to rebuff the giggling Kath as she didn’t like the way she had drawn her into discussing her private life. As always she could never remain uptight with Kath, who now hooked her arm around Jane’s shoulder.
‘Don’t pay any attention to me, darlin’. With those big tits you got I’m sure you had a lot of guys panting after you at Hendon Police College. I know I did – lost my virginity to the PTI sergeant. The positions he could get into were unbelievable – he had a body like Burt Reynolds in
Jane didn’t feel like laughing. In fact she felt rather disappointed in Kath, but she nevertheless laughed, acting as if it was all a joke.
Jane continued typing Bradfield’s report. She couldn’t stop thinking about the elderly Nancy Phillips’ reaction when she’d seen her grandson’s body. Although Jane felt sorry for her something niggled in her mind. Once she’d finished the typing she opened her handbag and got out the small notebook she had used during the lecture. She flicked through it until she came to the bullet points she’d made after her last conversation with Harker. She’d written and underlined ‘Grief causes emotion = stress & anger = real or fake guilt?’
Jane hurriedly picked up a pen from the desk and wrote ‘Julie Ann’ next to her last entry and then put a circle round her name.
Pentonville Prison’s visiting times were always crowded and noisy occasions. Families with children were usually kept over to one side, and the inmates were brought in by officers in groups of four to five. John and David sat at a table looking around the room to see if there was anyone they recognized as they waited for their father to be brought in.
‘Here he is,’ John said as he nudged David.
As their father strutted towards them he nodded to the officer sitting in a high chair overlooking the room. Clifford Bentley had thick grey hair and his son John resembled him. Although John was slightly shorter they both had the same square jaw and dark hooded eyes.
Clifford sat facing his sons. He nodded hello to both of them before drawing a plastic pouch filled with tobacco and some Rizla papers from his trouser pocket. Opening the pouch he removed some tobacco and dropped it onto a paper and nonchalantly made a roll-up with one hand.
