sir,’ she said politely.
‘No, Tennison, it’s not a good morning,’ he replied gruffly.
His grey suit was badly creased, his Windsor-knot tie loose and top shirt button undone. He had a face like thunder, and it was obvious he was very hungover from the previous evening’s gambling and drinking session.
‘Can I help you with anything?’ Jane asked.
‘Not unless you can conjure up more staff or know where Eddie Phillips is!’ he snapped.
‘I could make some enquiries about Phillips with—’
Jane was about to say the collator but was cut off by Bradfield.
‘No, you can get a “Wanted” telex circulated Met-wide with his details and description. Also, put it out over the local radio to all the uniform patrol officers. There’s a bottle of Scotch up for whoever finds and nicks him first – two bottles if it’s before midday.’
Jane selected Eddie’s index card from the carousel and started to copy his details down onto a message pad when she was interrupted by Bradfield handing her a £1 note. He said he’d be in his office with DS Gibbs and they both wanted coffee and a bacon sandwich.
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
‘No, Tennison, it’s not a good morning,’ he replied gruffly.
His grey suit was badly creased, his Windsor-knot tie loose and top shirt button undone. He had a face like thunder, and it was obvious he was very hungover from the previous evening’s gambling and drinking session.
‘Can I help you with anything?’ Jane asked.
‘Not unless you can conjure up more staff or know where Eddie Phillips is!’ he snapped.
‘I could make some enquiries about Phillips with—’
Jane was about to say the collator but was cut off by Bradfield.
‘No, you can get a “Wanted” telex circulated Met-wide with his details and description. Also, put it out over the local radio to all the uniform patrol officers. There’s a bottle of Scotch up for whoever finds and nicks him first – two bottles if it’s before midday.’
Jane selected Eddie’s index card from the carousel and started to copy his details down onto a message pad when she was interrupted by Bradfield handing her a £1 note. He said he’d be in his office with DS Gibbs and they both wanted coffee and a bacon sandwich.
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
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