Lynda La Plante - Prime Suspect

“Get away from the window, come on, move it!”

WPC Hull whipped round. “Sorry, ma’am, but it’s DCI Shefford…”

“Well, peering out of the window isn’t going to help him! Come on, move over, lemme have a squint!”

Tennison could see the ambulance with its doors open, the stretcher being loaded. She turned back to the room.

“OK, back to work. The copier’s been repaired, and we may not have a lot of work to do but we might as well clear the desk. You never know, I might be needed!”

She meant it as a joke, and it was taken as one, because they didn’t know then that Shefford would never regain consciousness. He was dead on arrival at hospital.

When the panic had died down, Tennison sat alone in her office and pondered… She was sorry Shefford was ill, of course she was, but someone had to take over the investigation. This time Kernan had to give her the job; everyone else on the rota was busy.

Deeply shocked, Otley shut himself in the gents’ toilets and wept. He couldn’t face anyone, and was unable to carry the news back to the men waiting in the Incident Room. He had lost the best friend he had ever had, his only real friend.

When he was able to face the men he found them sitting in stunned silence. He tried to tell them more, but all he could say was, “It’s Tom’s birthday today, it’s his son’s birthday… I bought him a magic set, and…” He wandered over to his desk. There at the side was the big package, the train set he had taken so long to choose. He stood staring down at it. The men, deeply shocked, didn’t know what to say.

Otley’s voice was barely audible. “We were going to set it up, surprise Tom. It’s from Hamley’s…”

DI Burkin, head and shoulders taller than his skipper, slipped an arm around him. The big officer’s tears were streaming down his face, but Otley had no more tears. He clenched his fists, shrugged Burkin away.

“Right, let’s nail this bastard Marlow! We do it for our guv’nor, we break the fucking record, agreed?”

It was down to Superintendent Kernan to visit Sheila Shefford. Otley had agreed to accompany him, but Kernan didn’t know if it was such a good idea, the man was so distressed. In the end he decided to take DI Burkin along. No matter which way you looked at it, it was tragic.

Anticipating a harrowing time with Sheila and her family, Kernan’s mood was not receptive. When Jane Tennison asked for a few minutes with him his first reaction was to refuse, but she had insisted it was important.

When he realized what she wanted he stared at her in disbelief. He was still in shock himself and he turned on her, ordering her out of his office. But she stood her ground, fists clenched.

“Look, please, I’m sorry if I appear heartless, but all I am doing is offering to finish the investigation. John was ready to charge the suspect and someone has to take over, he’s not going to be well enough. We can’t hold Marlow much longer, we’ll have to apply for a three-day lay-down, but either way someone has to take…”

Kernan gripped her tightly by the elbow. “The man’s not even cold! For God’s sake, I can’t make any decisions now. When I do, you will be the first to hear. Now get out of my office…”

“Cold?” She stared at him. “He’s dead ? But he can’t be…”

“I didn’t realize you hadn’t been told. John was dead when he reached the hospital. Now will you get out?”

Appalled, she shook her head as if to clear it, drew a deep breath, then plunged on, “But you will have to make a decision, sir, and I am offering to step in right now. I can familiarize myself with the case tonight, and if charges…”

“I said I would consider your offer, Jane.”

“No, sir, you said you couldn’t make any decisions right now. I think, however, a decision has to be made, and fast. You can’t back out of this one, you know I am here. I am available and I am qualified. Someone’s got to prove that bloody survey’s a load of bullshit. You pass me over on this one and I warn you…”

Kernan’s face twisted with barely controlled anger. “You don’t warn me, Chief Inspector, is that clear? Now you and your feminist jargon can get out of my bloody office before I physically throw you out. A friend, a close friend, and associate of mine died in this room this afternoon, and I am just on my way to tell his wife and children. Now is not the time…”

“When is the time, sir? Because we don’t have any to spare-if Marlow’s not charged very soon he will have to be released. I am deeply sorry for what happened to John, please don’t insult me by thinking otherwise, but at the same time someone has to-”

“Please leave now. Don’t tell me my job. I will not be forced into making a decision I will regret at a later date. Please leave my office.”

Maureen Havers hiccuped through her tears and Tennison put an arm around her shoulders.

“Do you want to go home, Maureen love? You can if you like, there’s not much to do.”

Havers wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but he was always so full of life, and only today I heard him laughing, you know that big laugh of his… He said… he said he’d beaten Paxman’s record!”

Leaving it that Havers could go home if she felt like it, Tennison left for court.

Superintendent Kernan called a two o’clock meeting with Commander Geoff Trayner to discuss the situation, particularly Tennison’s request to take over the Marlow case. Neither man liked the idea, even though the file on the desk proved she was fully qualified and her exboss in the Flying Squad had given her a glowing recommendation.

Tennison had been with the Flying Squad for five years, and had taken a lot of flak from the men. Unlike two of her female colleagues in a similar position she had stayed her course. Her report noted that she had been offered a position training female officers because of her previous experience working with rape victims and her instigation of many changes which had been adopted by rape centers all over the country. She had turned the offer down, not wishing to go back into uniform, and had subsequently been transferred to AMIT. She was, as they were well aware, the only female DCI attached to a murder squad; with someone of her record it would be very difficult to bring someone in from outside to take over.

Kernan drummed his fingers on the desk. “The men won’t like it, you know that, but as far as I can see we don’t really have a choice. There’s no one free on AMIT except her. I’ve checked locally, and of the usuals I know Finley’s in Huddersfield, Smith and Kelvin are still tied up on that shooting last week in Shepherd’s Bush… And she’s got a mouth on her, I don’t want her creating a stink. She as good as threatened to resign if she was overlooked again.”

“She’s one of these bloody feminists, I don’t want any flak from that angle. We’ll give her a trial run, see what happens, but if she puts a foot out of line we’ll have her transferred and get her out of our hair. Agreed?”

Kernan nodded and slapped Tennison’s file closed. “I’ll get her in to see you, and I’ll break it to the men.” He pressed a button on his intercom and requested Tennison’s immediate presence.

“DCI Tennison’s in court today, sir,” his secretary replied.

“Hell, I’d forgotten… Let everyone know I want her the moment she comes in.”

Jane Tennison was lucky for once. The jury was out by two-fifteen and she was away. Still upset by John Shefford’s death, she drove straight to the building site where Peter was working.

Peter was in his hut, talking to one of his workmen. Jane held herself rigid and waited until the man was gone, then rushed to Peter and sobbed her heart out.