Hidden Killers. Lynda La plante
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Allard’s not so bad after all?’
Jane persisted. ‘I’m not saying that . . .’
‘Then what are you saying?’
Jane took a deep breath and sighed. ‘I think Moran planted a knife on Allard because he was already convinced the person committing the indecent assaults and the rape were one and the same . . . And I don’t know what to do about it.’
‘Now you really are losing it, Jane, accusing a DI of planting evidence.’
She looked at Edwards and could tell he had doubts.
‘So you’re saying that senior officers aren’t dishonest?’
‘Come on, Jane, what would the point be in the guvnor planting a knife? It doesn’t take the case much further as there’s no other evidence that Allard committed the rape. He isn’t even charging him with the rape, so where’s your fit-up theory then?’
Jane looked confused. ‘He isn’t?’
‘Well, he only said to prepare the charges for the indecent assaults and the one on you, didn’t he?’
‘Well, he might charge him later.’
‘Why? He knows that if he did the Solicitors’ Department will read through the statements and see the inconsistences between the indecent assaults and the rape.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Jane, there’s no way they would run a trial with no positive identification and only the knife as evidence. So take my advice and let it drop.’
‘But it’s not right . . .’
‘If you say anything to DI Moran, or anyone else for that matter, then you can forget ever making detective.’
‘Are you being serious?’
‘Yes, I am. You’ll become persona non grata . . . no one will ever trust you, or work with you. Look at the way we all had to cover for Bradfield’s screw-up – even you.’
‘My God, Brian! Bradfield died! What we’re discussing here is whether someone planted evidence, or not.’
‘Someone? Someone . . . ? Nick Moran can be an arsehole, but he’s got a number of Commissioners’ commendations and is well respected. Apart from anything else I’ll get dragged into something that might get blown out of all proportion. I’ve only been a DC for three years and I’m not prepared to screw up my career.’
‘I understand your predicament, and under the circumstances I’ll let it rest.’ She walked out, unable to discuss it further as Edwards obviously didn’t want to continue.
As Jane walked along the corridor towards the ladies’ locker room DCS Metcalf was heading towards her wearing a smart suit and tie. Jane saluted and said, ‘All correct, sir,’ which was the normal address to senior officers. Metcalf smiled and informed her that ‘All correct’ is fine to a detective and that the salute was for senior officers in uniform.
‘It’s just force of habit,’ Jane replied.
‘DI Moran has been updating me on your arrest of Allard and how well you coped under extreme pressure. I’m impressed, congratulations on an excellent job.’
‘Thank you,’ said Jane. ‘Could I possibly have a word about my future career and becoming a detective?’
Metcalf looked at his watch. ‘I saw the result of your final probationer’s exam – your marks were excellent and top of the class. As it happens, after speaking with DI Moran I was going to have a chat with you about your future, but I have an appointment to go to right now. What shift are you on tomorrow?’
‘I’m on my CID attachment and not sure whether I’ll be on a late or early shift.’
‘I see. I’m out all afternoon and won’t be coming back to the station.’
‘I could come in early? In my own time if necessary?’ Metcalf agreed. ‘See me in my office at ten a.m.’
Feeling exhilarated by his compliments, Jane went into the ladies’ and then returned to the CID office. DC Edwards was at his desk writing up the charges. He raised his finger and pointed to DI Moran’s office and mouthed, ‘He’s in there.’ She quickly grabbed a CRO 74 from the file cabinet and after putting some carbon paper between the sheets placed it in a typewriter. She opened her pocket book and started to fill out all of Allard’s details and circumstances of arrest to be placed on criminal records at Scotland Yard.
‘Has one of you two been going through my files? The statements are out of order.’
Jane looked up and saw a stern-faced Moran standing in his office doorway holding up the Indecent Assaults file. She looked at Edwards and knew that she had to tell him it was her, but she was so nervous she couldn’t instantly think of a valid reason. As she turned back to Moran, Edwards suddenly spoke up.
‘Sorry, sir, I was looking through the file and dropped it by mistake. I didn’t realize I’d put things back in the wrong order.’
‘What were you looking through them for?’
‘I couldn’t read one of the victims’ names on your list and I just wanted to double-check it against the statement for the charge sheet.’
‘Well, next time ask me . . . I don’t like people rummaging around on my desk.’
‘Sorry, sir, it won’t happen again,’ Edwards said.
Jane mouthed ‘Thank you’ to Edwards as Sergeant Harris walked in.
‘Allard’s wife has rung to ask if she can visit him,’ Harris announced.
Moran shrugged. ‘She can, but not until tomorrow morning as we have to formally charge, fingerprint and photograph him this evening.’
‘OK, I’ll ring her back and inform her.’
Having completed the criminal records form Jane was tired and decided to go back to the section house rather than go for a drink. It was only a ten-minute bus ride and she always stood on the footplate ready to hop off at her stop. As the bus travelled down the road she noticed a tall, statuesque girl pushing a pram with a toddler in it. The girl was dusky skinned, and had long dark hair that hid most of her face. What caught Jane’s interest was that she was wearing a pale blue rabbit fur coat, identical to the one she had worn as a decoy. She shuddered as she recalled what had happened to her at the hands of Peter Allard. It really sunk home that she could have been seriously assaulted, to the point of Grievous Bodily Harm, if it hadn’t been for Moran and Edwards.
Jane walked into Hackney Police Station at 9.30 a.m., just as Marie Allard was coming out from reception. Jane realized that she must have visited her husband. Marie looked awful, as if she was in a world of her own. Jane called out her name but Marie carried on walking until Jane caught up with her.
‘Marie, how are you doing?’
Marie suddenly broke down in tears. ‘I was prepared to stand by him for what he done, even though it was bad and wrong, but I could never forgive him for rape.’
‘I understand. But although your husband initially lied about the assaults, he has always denied the rape and he isn’t being charged with it.’
Marie stepped back angrily. ‘What you talking about . . . he admitting it.’
Jane was shocked, instantly feeling that she had been stupid to have believed Allard’s lies and doubt Moran’s integrity.
‘I’m so sorry . . . you must feel as if your world has been torn apart. Did he confess to you just now, during your visit?’
‘No, I not seen him. He was taken to the Magistrates’