Bradfield was eager to interview Anjali, especially as he was now more confident that Terrence O’Duncie was a strong suspect for murder, and might even be ‘Big Daddy’ himself.
Anjali was brought into his office later that afternoon. She was belligerent and accused them of harassing her, and denied knowing anyone called Big Daddy or a Terrence who had the same surname as her. Bradfield and Gibbs could tell from the beads of sweat running down her forehead that she was nervous and obviously lying. Bradfield slowly put pressure on her and asked if she knew a Dwayne Clark, but yet again there was denial.
He snarled at her. ‘I’m not a bloody fool like you! Clark works with Terrence O’Duncie, who’s on our records for possession of drugs, possession with intent to supply and supplying, and he’s done time in Brixton Prison.’
Anjali still denied knowing either man, but Bradfield had got an officer to bike Terrence O’Duncie’s file over from Scotland Yard before the interview. The mug shot showed a good-looking, lighter-skinned man with short waxed hair. He was six foot two inches and had deep, penetrating dark eyes and high cheekbones. He slowly pushed the mug-shot photograph in front of Anjali. ‘Terrence O’Duncie – the home address on his arrest sheet five years ago is the same as yours. He’s your brother, isn’t he, so don’t you dare say again you don’t know him or I’ll have you charged and in court so fast-’
‘What for? I’ve not done nothing wrong,’ she said, wiping her forehead on her sleeve.
He banged his hand on the table. ‘Aiding and abetting drug supply, assisting a murder suspect, conspiracy to obstruct justice in a murder investigation, which carries a sentence of life imprisonment.’
She sat in silence, shaking and wringing her hands, beads of sweat now falling onto her dress.
Bradfield leaned closer. ‘God knows what the hospital will think of you when I tell them.’
Anjali froze, her eyes bulging open with fear. ‘Please don’t, I really like working there counselling and helping those poor kids get off drugs.’
‘Don’t lie – you’re nothing more than a tea skivvy who uses the job to direct the addicts to your brother who then supplies them and pays you for the introductions.’
She began to cry. ‘On my life I don’t, honest I don’t, I just wanted to help them. Yes, Terrence is my brother, but mostly everyone calls him Terry. I haven’t seen him for weeks and I’ve never met anyone called Dwayne or Big Daddy. I knew Terry had a drug problem but he told me he was off the stuff and was living with a crowd of ex-junkies who were all helping each other through cold turkey. He said that if I knew any kids who needed support and a place to stay then I should send them to him.’
‘Did you send Julie Ann to him?’
‘Yes, but I didn’t tell Eddie about Terry, though Julie Ann might have.’
‘OK, now tell me where this brother of yours lives, Anjali.’
‘I dunno the exact address, I never been there. All I know is it’s a big four-storey squat in Primrose Hill.’
Gibbs leaned over and slapped the table.
‘Oh right, so you just send your junkie kids over without a street or a house number, stop fuckin’ lying.’
Anjali chewed at her lips, then opened her large bag and after sifting around brought out a small address book.
‘This is the truth, I am tellin’ you the God’s truth because I dunno the address. I send them like my brother said to 24 Court Road in Chalk Farm so someone there can tell them where to go.’
Gibbs leaned across and spoke quietly to Bradfield. ‘That’s Dwayne Clark’s address. Maybe he’s a middle man and that’s the reason we didn’t find any gear stashed there.’
‘Bloody well organized, isn’t it?’ Bradfield turned back to Anjali as Gibbs rocked in his chair.
‘Why did you lie about who Julie Ann was talking to on the phone in the doctor’s office?’ Bradfield asked.
‘I swear before God that I heard her say “Paddy” or something like it. My brother is doing good by them kids, but if I’d told you about him you’re all a racist lot an’ would think he was involved cos he was black and fit him up him with her murder.’
‘I don’t need to fit him up, sweetheart, he’s in it up to his eyeballs. If what you say is true then your precious brother used you to entice young girls into his set-up. Then he plied them with drugs and passed them round like rag dolls to be raped and abused. Problem was he got Julie Ann pregnant and she probably threatened to expose him so he murdered her. Eddie Phillips was another weak link and he had to die as well, so tell me, how does it feel to be responsible for sending two youngsters to their deaths?’
Anjali O’Duncie was now a gibbering wreck, sobbing and wailing whilst continually claiming that all she was doing was trying to help down-and-out addicts by giving them somewhere safe to stay. She was adamant her brother was a good honest man since he was clean.
‘What will happen to me now?’
