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Authors: Lynda La Plante

BOOK: Tennison
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‘We weren’t, sir. I asked her to throw me a clip to hold these statement pages together,’ Kath replied sheepishly.

‘Has Spencer Gibbs called in from Coventry?’

‘Yes, sir, about three hours ago. They arrested Dwayne Clark at an address this morning,’ Kath said and handed him notes she’d made of an earlier phone conversation with DS Gibbs.

‘That’s brilliant. What about the bloke known as Big Daddy, or Josh?’

‘Neither of them was there.’

‘Bollocks, so we’re still no further forward. What else did Gibbs say?’

‘He’s bringing Clark straight here. He should be back soon.’

‘Well, let’s hope he persuades Dwayne to see the light before they get onto the North Circular.’ He was about to leave when he turned to Jane.

‘All those bits of paper in Julie Ann’s patchwork bag – you get anything from them?’

Jane held up some sheets of paper from the desk next to her.

‘I’ve copied everything down, sir. I am still working on them, but nothing of interest so far. I’ve made a note that Anjali O’Duncie was wrong about overhearing the name “Paddy”, and Julie Ann actually made the call to her father so it was “Daddy” and not connected to Big Daddy the drug dealer.’

Bradfield grabbed Jane’s notes from her hand and had a quick glance-over before dropping them down on her desk. ‘Well, pull your finger out, Tennison. I’ve got the DCS on my back and he wants results. If DS Gibbs returns in the next hour tell him I’ll be in the canteen.’

Jane waited until he left the room and looked at Kath who was checking her watch. ‘Kath, can you help me with this? There’s initials, odd names and phone numbers . . . but I just haven’t—’

‘No can do, Jane. I’ve got to go over to Old Street Court. That burglar I nicked screwing the old people’s flats is appearing. I shouldn’t be too long as he’s pleading guilty and asking for a number of other burglary offences to be taken into consideration.’

‘That’s a great result, Kath, and good for your career.’

‘Kind of odd because he’s a nasty little sod and then there was all that cash we found hidden under his bed. He must have done way more jobs than he’s admitting to. Then again maybe he’s being a bit savvy as he was caught bang to rights. If he was found guilty by a jury at a trial he’d get an even heavier prison sentence. Still, either way at least he’ll be behind bars where he belongs, and the old ’uns will feel a bit safer.’

Jane had just started to go through the names and numbers from Julie Ann’s bag when a sharply dressed DS Gibbs walked in singing ‘Nights In White Satin’. He asked where Bradfield was and she informed him the DCI was in the canteen before asking if Dwayne Clark had said anything on the journey back. Gibbs told her briefly that he had denied knowing Julie Ann and Eddie Phillips and didn’t know any Big Daddy or where Josh lived, but thanks to a Coventry drug squad informant they now had various possible names for him.

‘Josh Richards, Jenkins, Rankin – all bullshit, no doubt, so Christ knows what his real name actually is. Do me a favour while I speak with the boss – can you go through all the index cards, statements, information, in fact everything we have and check if the name “Tod” appears anywhere?’

‘Well, he asked me to check off Julie Ann’s stuff asap,’ Jane said.

‘Make my request the priority, and don’t look so worried, he’ll agree with me.’ Gibbs did a quick drum beat on the desk then resumed his singing as he left the room.

Bradfield was just finishing his bread-and-butter pudding with custard when Gibbs put his coffee and sandwich down on the table and sat opposite him.

‘We got Dwayne.’

‘I heard, but not Big Daddy, which is what I would have preferred.’

‘I know, but I’m pretty certain that Josh is the first name of Big Daddy. There are different surnames he uses, but I need to do a bit of digging on them.’

‘Did Dwayne say anything in the car?’

Gibbs finished a mouthful of his sandwich. ‘Nope, just repeated word for word what his girlfriend told us about expanding the window-cleaning business and being out of London for over a week at the material times. The bloke at the place he was staying alibied him – not even a used spliff in the place. Dwayne admitted working in the window-cleaning business with a Josh, but conveniently doesn’t know where he lives as he recently moved. He also denied either of them were dealers.’

‘You’re losing your touch, Spence.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Over two hours in a car with a suspect and you couldn’t break him to get a full name and address.’

‘I tell you he’s a tough one, and I got the impression he’s frightened of Big Daddy like Eddie Phillips was. I gave him a slap and even locked him in the boot of the car for nearly an hour. He was sweating like a pig but he still didn’t crack.’

‘Get him out of the cell and bring him up to my office so I can interview him,’ Bradfield said, pushing his dessert bowl to one side and standing up.

‘He’s not in the cell. I released him on the North Circular.’

‘You effing did that without even consulting me!’

‘I tried to get hold of you but you weren’t available. Come on, it isn’t as bad as it sounds. I’d already stopped and called the central surveillance unit at the Yard while he was in the boot. They were ready and waiting to tail Dwayne when I kicked him out the car, so no doubt he should lead us to Big Daddy.’

‘They’d better bloody well not lose him.’

‘Even if they do we still know where he lives with his girlfriend, and he’s unlikely to do a runner,’ Gibbs said, getting out his notebook and flicking it open to the last page. ‘I searched through Dwayne’s gear and there was a bit of notepaper with “TOD” in capital letters and a Primrose Hill dialling code on it, and sort of dots and ticks beside it. Might be a good lead so I didn’t take the actual note as I didn’t want to give away I’d seen it. But you know dealers do use their own forms of made-up code.’

‘Primrose Hill,’ Bradfield said thoughtfully, then clicked his fingers and gestured to Gibbs to follow him.

As they entered the incident room Bradfield pointed his finger at Jane.

‘Tennison, that list you were working on – let me see it.’

Jane handed it over and nervously asked if there was something she’d missed.

‘Did you write down everything exactly as it was on the notes in Julie Ann’s bag?’

‘Yes, I’m pretty sure I did.’

He looked through the list closely and then stabbed his finger at it. ‘There it is, that’s the bloody link.’

Jane and Gibbs looked at each other wondering exactly what he was referring to.

‘I knew there was something she was hiding.’ He looked at Gibbs. ‘Spence, get round to the hospital and drag that fat woman in here now.’

‘Who are you talking about?’ Gibbs asked.

‘The big black woman that works at the drug unit – the appendix-obsessed one who never stopped talkin’.’

Jane pulled an index card from the carousel. ‘Do you mean Anjali O’Duncie, sir?’

‘Yeah, that’s her – did she ever mention any relatives to you, Tennison?’

‘Not as I recall.’

‘Where does she live?’

‘Gave an address in Stoke Newington; it’s on her index card,’ Jane said.

Gibbs looked somewhat baffled. ‘Is there something I’m missing here?’

Bradfield held up Jane’s notes. ‘Are you positive you’ve recorded correctly what was on the pieces of paper in Julie Ann’s bag?’

‘Yes, sir.’

Bradfield pointed to an entry and showed it to Gibbs whose eyes lit up when he saw ‘TO’D’.

‘That’s the same three capital letters Dwayne had on a bit of paper, but without the apostrophe after the “O”.’

‘I’m sure there was a slight gap between the “T” and the “OD” on Julie Ann’s bit of paper,’ Jane added.

Bradfield held his hand up for them to be quiet as he paused briefly to think before continuing.

‘OK, this might be a long shot or a blinder, but I’ll bet my wages the “T” is an initial for a Christian name, “O” apostrophe “D” is a surname and our Anjali woman may be related.’ He picked up the phone, rang the comms room and asked for a name check to be run on criminal records against black males with the surname O’Duncie aged between twenty-five and forty. He also said he was specifically interested in O’Duncies with Christian names that started with a ‘T’ and he wanted any results printed off and brought up to him immediately. He then told Jane to get on to the council offices that covered Primrose Hill to see if they had any tenants or residents under the name O’Duncie.

He put the phone down. ‘If Josh is a false name for Big Daddy used by Dwayne, then this “TOD” might be who we should actually be looking for, or at least connected to the drugs or murders in some way. Is there a home phone number on Anjali’s card, Tennison?’

‘No, she said she didn’t have one.’

Gibbs chipped in, ‘If she thought Julie Ann was speaking to Big Daddy on the hospital phone then she may have deliberately misled us by saying it was someone called Paddy.’

Bradfield nodded. ‘Exactly. We now know Julie Ann called her father but this O’Duncie woman’s in a perfect position to refer the drug addicts who attend the Homerton unit to a dealer so they can buy more drugs.’

Bradfield was feeling certain that at last they might have a positive breakthrough. Even more so when an hour later they had information that a Terrence O’Duncie, aged thirty-two, had previous convictions for drugs offences dating back five years. His criminal record showed he was black, over six foot tall and had an address in Stoke Newington, the same address Anjali O’Duncie had given, and it was suspected he was her younger brother.

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?’

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