Lynda Plante: Tennison

She winced as she scraped the side of her father’s car along one of the metal pole dividers for the motorbike parking area. She didn’t even bother to look at the damage as she ran towards the entrance.

Inside the station it was mayhem. Every phone was ringing and a large number of officers, who had clearly been drafted in from other stations to assist, were wandering the corridor asking where the parade room was.

Jane saw an agitated Sergeant Harris appear waving his hands and shouting for people to get out of the front desk area and keep the corridors clear. He raised his voice even higher.

‘The parade room is on the left of the rear yard as you exit the building. DCS Metcalf will be addressing you all there in ten minutes’ time and will give further instructions.’

Jane tugged his shirtsleeve. ‘Sarge, what’s happened?’

‘Not now, Tennison. If you wanna help then assist the officer on the front desk while I get this lot to the parade room. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.’

Jane pushed and shoved her way through the throng towards the front desk, but there were still a lot of uniform officers milling around, and the front doors to the station were closed. At the top of her voice she yelled out the directions to the parade room and gradually the front desk area cleared. She could hear the frustrated reporters and news teams outside shouting out questions and saw a PC she knew on the duty-desk phone. When he’d finished she asked what was going on, but he said he didn’t really know as he’d come on for late shift and had been told by Harris to man the front desk.

Jane decided to go to the incident room hoping she might get some proper answers. As she ran up the stairs she saw Sally, the pregnant civilian indexer she had replaced on the Julie Ann Collins case. Sally was leaning against the wall in floods of tears and Jane knew that worry for the safety of her friends and colleagues must have brought her to the station.

‘Can you tell me what’s happened, Sally?’

‘It’s Kath, no one’s seen Kath... Oh my God...’

‘Is Kath hurt?’ Jane asked anxiously.

‘Dead... some of them are dead,’ Sally wailed.

‘What? Who exactly is dead?’

‘I don’t know, no one will say and some are in hospital.’

Sally looked faint as she slid down the wall and sat on the floor. Confused, Jane tried to help up the inconsolable woman, but she just wanted to stay where she was and be left alone. Jane still had no idea of exactly what had happened. She knew that if anyone had died in the explosion they would have been taken to Hackney Mortuary. Asking a passing PC to look after Sally, she ran as fast as she could out through the back of the station and across the churchyard towards the mortuary.

Pushing open the door to the reception area Jane saw some of the surveillance officers and detectives from Operation Hawk standing looking at each other, lost for words. She knew that something terrible had happened, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask exactly what. She dreaded having her own worst fears confirmed.

A mortuary assistant in his green gown and white wellington boots opened the door from the corridor to say that the undertaker’s van was on its way from the scene of the explosion. They would be bringing in body bags via the back entrance and he needed some assistance. Jane felt helpless as she and the others followed the head mortician down the corridor to the van bay, where he pulled open the double-door metal shutters to let the first black van reverse in.

Jane was surprised, yet in some ways relieved, to see Sarah Redhead get out of the passenger side of the van as the mortician opened the rear to remove the body bags onto a trolley.

‘Thank God, Sarah. Can you tell me if a WPC Kathleen Morgan is here or at the hospital as...? ’

Sarah, normally so loud-spoken, took Jane by her arm and whispered, ‘I haven’t a clue who’s in the bags. We got called to go to the bank to control the cordons and keep the press and public out. When they got the bodies out we were told to accompany them here and then go off duty. I’ve been on for sixteen hours now.’

‘Has nobody said anything about who has died?’

‘I’m a uniform WPC like you, Jane. I don’t ask, I just do. Unless you’re on duty you really shouldn’t be in here. All I can tell you is the scene at the bank was horrendous. Glass, metal and bricks were all over the streets.’

They had to stand back as another undertaker’s van reversed in. At the same time the head mortician told a couple of officers to take the first body through to the fridge area for storage.

The undertaker driving the latest arrival got out and spoke with the mortician.

‘Bit of a jigsaw in this bag — it’s full of bits and pieces the forensic guys found in the vault. God only knows which bits are the police and which bits the bad guys.’

Jane felt as if she had been punched in her heart by what she’d just heard.

‘Body parts?’ she repeated breathlessly.

The head mortician looked at Jane. ‘You’re that probationer who was in here the other week to watch the post-mortem on the murdered girl. What’s this case got to do with you?’

‘It’s OK, she’s working on it as well,’ a voice said.

Jane looked and saw a dazed DS Spencer Gibbs getting out of the passenger seat of the undertaker’s van. He looked terrible. He had a dressing over the left side of his face and both his hands were bandaged. His jacket was blackened and singed and he was obviously in considerable pain.

‘My God, what happened to you?’

‘I was in the bank and got hurt during the explosion.’

Jane was still in shock. He glanced at her.

‘Have you been sick over yourself?’

‘No, it’s custard. Was Kath with you?’

Gibbs took a deep trembling breath and nodded.

‘Bradfield as well.’ His voice quivered and he started to walk off.

‘What happened, Spence?’

‘I need to get back to the station as I’ve got things to do.’

Jane felt more optimistic. Although Gibbs was injured he had survived. She followed him out of the mortuary and could see he was wincing and gritting his teeth as he walked. She stepped closer.

‘I’m confused, Spence, and really need to know what’s happened.’

He stopped and looked at her. His voice was sad.

‘Kath and Len didn’t make it—’

A shocked Jane shook her head as she interrupted him. ‘But you were with them, how did you...?’

‘I was behind the thick vault door with the bank manager when the explosion occurred so our bodies were protected from the fireball and flying debris. Our injuries are just heat-blast burns.’

Jane felt her legs begin to shake as she feared the worst.

‘They were standing by the entrance to the vault and took the full blast. They didn’t stand a chance, Jane,’ he said, welling up.

‘They’re dead?’ she asked disbelievingly.

‘Yes. I’m really sorry as I know how close you were to Kath.’

Jane felt as if her legs were going to buckle under her. Gibbs took hold of her arm to support her as they walked slowly back to the station.

‘For what it’s worth some of the suspects died. We don’t know exactly who yet due to the injuries, but from what’s left I think it could be John Bentley and the Greek. It seems Danny Mitcham escaped over the roofs and I’m going out to look for Clifford Bentley later.’

As they walked across the station yard Sergeant Harris approached them and told Gibbs that DCS Metcalf had been asking the surveillance officers and other team detectives awkward questions, wanting to know the ins and outs of Operation Hawk and why, once the suspects were in the vault, it was so long before they went in to make arrests.