Tennison

Chapter thirty-three

A team led by Metcalf had raided Clifford Bentley’s flat that afternoon. He was asleep in bed and the officers had to wake him. When asked where their son John was Renee said she hadn’t seen him since the previous afternoon when she had left to go to a funeral and Clifford said it was the same for him. He maintained that he paid his respects to the passing funeral procession, and then returned to the flat without John to spend the afternoon and night caring for his very sick son David. He didn’t know what time his wife got home from the funeral as he had already gone to bed and was in such a deep sleep he didn’t hear her come in.

Whilst Metcalf spoke with Clifford and Renee two officers searched David’s room only to discover he was not there and there were signs that he had taken clothes and a number of personal belongings with him. This was news to Clifford, who was now totally dependent on Renee to confirm his alibi and back him up. He then said John had taken David away for a few days as a surprise break to help him get better.

When Metcalf said that it was a trip that John would not be coming back from there was a look of horror in Clifford’s eyes and Renee demanded to know what he meant. She listened wide-eyed and motionless as Metcalf explained about the explosion, and the certainty that John had died in it whilst Clifford had done a runner.

The fact that John was dead, as a result of a plan probably hatched by Clifford, was too much for Renee to comprehend. She could not, as she had done so often in the past, protect her husband again. With her hands clenched in an attempt to control herself Renee told Metcalf that Clifford had not been at home on the Sunday afternoon or evening, and had definitely not been there when she got back from the wake sometime after midnight. She added that David was at home when she left for the funeral. When questioned about the whereabouts of her youngest son Renee claimed that she had no idea where he was, but he had left home on the afternoon of the funeral to get away from his brother and his father who had always manipulated, bullied and controlled him. She gave Metcalf details of a taxi firm David had used to book a taxi to take him to Heathrow Airport, but she was adamant that she had no idea where he was going from there as he hadn’t wanted her to be put in a position where Clifford or John could force it out of her.

Clifford was enraged when he was arrested, and demanded to know why Renee didn’t tell him about David. Renee had just smiled cynically, asking why he was suddenly worried about a son he’d never cared for or shown any real love to. She told him she hoped that David would at last find a decent and happy life.

It was early evening when a live press and TV news conference was held at Hackney Police Station in the main CID office. The packed room fell silent as DCS Metcalf entered and Sergeant Harris closed the doors behind him to stop anyone else entering the already crammed room.

Metcalf stood firm and upright next to a large projector screen. Harris turned on the projector and a picture of the Metropolitan Police Force Crest and the two fallen officers came up on the screen.

Metcalf cleared his throat. ‘It is with deep sadness that I have to inform you of the tragic loss of Detective Chief Inspector Leonard Bradfield and Detective Constable Kathleen Morgan during the explosion at the Trustee Savings Bank in Shoreditch. Our thoughts and sympathies are with their families at this time of loss. I have only the highest praise for DCI Bradfield: his professionalism and leadership were beyond reproach, as was the devotion to duty of all the officers who took part in Operation Hawk, some of whom were badly injured. They are all examples of police officers who, on a daily basis, display outstanding courage in the face of danger.’

The flash of cameras was relentless. As Metcalf paused to take a breath he was met with a flurry of questions from the journalists, who wanted to know more about the case and the suspects.

He held his hand up. ‘The incident is under investigation, so as I’m sure you all appreciate I am restricted in what I can say. However, I can tell you that two suspects were killed in the explosion, but their identities have yet to be confirmed.’

Yet again there were further interruptions from the journalists, who wanted to know if there were only two bank raiders, and if more why and how had they escaped.

Again Metcalf held his hand up. ‘We believe that at least two suspects escaped during the aftermath of the unexpected explosion. One man, who was a lookout, has since been arrested and is being interviewed as we speak.’

Metcalf nodded to Sergeant Harris who put up a slide of the last arrest photograph of Daniel Mitcham. Metcalf said that Mitcham was still at large, gave a full description and warned the public not to approach him if they saw him, but to dial 999 immediately. Lastly he told them that another suspect by the name of David Bentley was also on the run, and though not believed to have been present at the scene of the crime during the explosion he was wanted for conspiracy to commit robbery. He apologized that there was no current photograph of David Bentley, but gave a full description of him and emphasized that he was disabled, walked with a limp and used a walking stick or wheelchair.

Jane was working at the front desk during the press conference and knew it had finished when she saw Sergeant Harris escorting journalists and camera crews out of the station.

He joined her at the desk and said she could take a break.

‘I don’t mind staying on here, Sarge.’

‘No, love, you take your break. I’ll look after things here.’

She went to the canteen. Usually it would have been alive with chatter and officers clattering around with their trays. Tonight, though, there was an almost eerie silence, and when the officers did talk to each other it was in whispers.

Through the evening more details of what the teams had uncovered circulated round the station. Jane was told what was left of John Bentley’s burnt and dismembered body had been recovered from inside the vault and identified by matching the teeth of the deceased against dental records. Silas Manatos had to be dug out from the tunnel underneath the vault. Although intact his body was burnt beyond facial recognition by the fireball that engulfed the tunnel between the café and bank. No dental records could be traced locally for Silas, but his owl pendant had in effect welded to his body. His medical records showed that he had broken his right leg three years ago and the post-mortem examination found evidence of an old break and subsequent healing. Combined with the police evidence that Silas was part of the gang, and in the café at the time of the explosion, this was enough for the coroner to confirm and publicly release the identifications to the press.

With the assistance of Scotland Yard’s Special Branch it was quickly discovered that a David Bentley had flown on a Boeing 747 flight from Heathrow to Miami Airport on the Sunday evening. The British Overseas Airways Corporation ticket was one way and had cost him £150. The FBI were informed and said the chances of finding him now were slim as he had not stayed at the hotel he had shown on his landing card and could now be anywhere in Florida or the East Coast of America. DCS Metcalf considered sending a team to the States to look for him, but decided against it. He knew that where families like the Bentleys were concerned blood was thicker than water and David had spent many years being cared for by his mother Renee. One day he would return to Hackney, and when he did they’d arrest and charge him with conspiracy to rob the TSB.

In the days that followed, Jane felt Kath’s presence daily, often hearing her voice and laugh, and was grateful Kath had taught her how to handle discrimination and have the strength to stand up for herself. Jane had even put a couple of dents in the roller towel herself at times of frustration, but she had come to learn that the nature of a police officer’s work was often to remember but move on, so no one really talked much about Kath or Bradfield’s deaths, or how much they were missed. Any reference to Bradfield was quietly dealt with, but she knew she was not the only one to feel a dark sadness that he was gone and no longer storming out of his office, barking orders. A new DCI was sent to Hackney to take over the day-to-day running of the CID and Kath Morgan was replaced by another officer waiting to be made detective.

There was some light relief after all the tragedy. It was discovered that the officers who had already paid for and received their suits from Mannie Charles were all wearing hot property. They weren’t in fact ‘off the rail’, but classy suits that had been stolen from Aquascutum in Regent Street by the Horne Brothers warehouse manager and Mannie’s wife had removed the labels and substituted them with their own. DS Gibbs had been tipped off by a mate who worked in the CID office at West End Central and arrested the Horne manager and Mannie whilst investigating the break-in. It had everyone laughing and wondering if they should return the suits or keep quiet, until Gibbs brought in the suit ordered by Bradfield that was still hanging in his office in a plastic wrapper. As Bradfield had been six foot four there were few men it would fit, or who would want it. With gallows humour one detective lightened the gloom by suggesting he might like to be buried in it, but many couldn’t hide just how much Bradfield was missed.

Jane found that sinking herself into her daily work helped keep her emotions in check. It was only at night, in the privacy of her room at the section house, that she found the horror overwhelming. She would constantly remember Kath, and sometimes break down in tears. Other times she would fall into an exhausted sleep and wake with the nightmare of the explosion, and then it was Bradfield who dominated her every thought. Had he tried to protect Kath? She was certain that he would have, but then the thought of him left her bereft and unable even to cry.

Daniel Mitcham was finally arrested when he tried to use a false passport when boarding a P & O Ferry at Dover destined for Boulogne in France, from where he intended to make his way to Spain. Although he had changed his appearance by cutting his hair and wearing glasses and a cap, it was the burn to the nape of his neck that made one of the Customs officers suspicious. When the holdall he was carrying was searched it was found to contain a false bottom. Hidden inside was £10,000, mostly in soon to be unusable £5 notes, a quantity of valuable jewellery and a large stash of drugs.

The police had been intercepting and checking any mail to his home address. As a result they had discovered the cash and jewellery he had sent to his wife to enable her to join him in Spain when he found a place to live. The police had let the mail through and his wife hadn’t declared she’d received stolen goods so they had arrested her. Mitcham was promised that the charges against his wife would be dropped, his kids wouldn’t end up in care, and he would get a reduced sentence if he co-operated. It was an offer he was in no position to refuse.

Danny told them the full story, and also agreed to give Queen’s Evidence against Clifford Bentley, who had so far refused to say anything.

After the bodies and body parts had been removed from the bank, DS Lawrence and his forensic team had spent days at the location trying to ascertain exactly what had caused the explosion. They knew from the hole in the steel vault floor that the suspects must have been using an oxyacetylene torch, but as it was not in the café it was likely that it had been blown to pieces and become mixed up with all the other debris from the vault. Every piece of metal was eventually gathered up in dustbins and it was a painstaking task at the lab sifting through it all and putting the oxygen and acetylene tanks back together. The answer came after Paul Lawrence had meticulously rebuilt the remains of the acetylene tank pressure gauge and discovered the dial was stuck on 30psi. He knew that the gauge must have been on 30psi at the moment of explosion, and that acetylene, being an extremely unstable gas, was dangerously explosive at pressures above 15psi. Lawrence concluded that John Bentley naively thought that turning up the pressure would increase the heat intensity and speed up cutting the safe open. The explosion was inevitable and unavoidable, and tragically happened at exactly the wrong moment for the officers who, as a result, were killed or injured.

Due to the intense political and press interest concerning the deaths of two police officers, and the severe injuries to others including the bank manager, the rubber heelers from A10 were called in as a matter of course to carry out an internal investigation. They had been told to look at all the information DCI Bradfield had acted on, and decide whether it was reliable and correct. The big question was whether he could have reasonably foreseen that dangerous and volatile cutting equipment needed to be used to get into the vault, in which case the suspects should have been arrested as soon as they broke into the vault.

For once it was an investigation that the A10 officers did not relish and they deliberately cut corners, especially as there was not one officer on the team who did not stand by the decisions made by the deceased DCI Leonard Bradfield, whose actions had also been given the green light and were supported by DCS Metcalf. Everyone knew that it would be wrong to tarnish the good name of a highly respected and much admired man like Bradfield, who had acted in good faith and done what he believed to be right at the time. Even the Commissioner himself recognized this fact by later recommending both DCI Bradfield and WPC Morgan for a posthumously awarded Queen’s Police Medal for an ‘exhibition of conspicuous devotion to duty’.

Jane was working on the front desk when Harris came in and told her that Metcalf wanted to see her.

‘Why? What does he want?’ she asked, worried she was going to be reprimanded, or worse made a scapegoat.

‘Search me, but get a move on — he doesn’t like to be left waiting.’

The bank robbery investigation was being led by DCS Metcalf who had to compile an in-depth report detailing the full extent of the tragedy that surrounded Operation Hawk. Jane had escaped being questioned by A10, but an interview with Metcalf was worse. She headed to the office that Bradfield had previously occupied, refusing to remember the last time she’d seen him behind that very desk.

Metcalf was flicking through a thick file as she sat down opposite him, waiting nervously and wondering why he had called her in.

‘Now, I have it formally noted by the late DCI Bradfield that you recognized the deceased John Bentley’s voice from a recording made by a young boy called Ashley Brennan. Is that correct?’

‘Yes, sir, I went to Brennan’s home address and—’

‘I am aware of how you came to be in possession of the tape,’ he interrupted, and continued to read through the file.

‘Initially you had been helping Bentley’s mother after an asthma attack, correct?’

‘Yes, sir,’ Jane said, realizing it was best to keep her answers brief.

‘That was very commendable and thoughtful of you, and somewhat fortunate for DCI Bradfield and the commencement of Operation Hawk,’ he said, and smiled.

‘I hadn’t thought of it like that as I was just doing my job.’

‘Nevertheless you apparently stuck to your guns when it was suggested that you may have been mistaken about it being John Bentley’s voice.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Good. I like to see WPCs on probation proving to be confident, and being able to recall someone’s voice after only a few brief moments is quite exceptional.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ Jane said, feeling he was being overindulgent and wondering why.

He flicked to another page in the file and looked her in the eye before continuing.

‘DCI Bradfield quite rightly set up surveillance on the Bentley family and your observation about the voice on the tape proved to be correct. As the team indexer you were also responsible for typing up all the officers’ reports, including those made by DCI Bradfield and DS Gibbs?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘I was wondering, were you ever aware of, or privy to, a report that was allegedly made by DS Gibbs concerning dangerous-gas tanks used for cutting metal, which he saw in the basement of the café?’

Jane realized he was asking her a leading question and hoped she was about to give the answer he wanted to hear.

‘No, sir,’ she lied without a flinch or blink.

He gave her a satisfied smile. ‘Good, I was obviously misinformed. I’m not keen to take this matter further as I suspected it was a malicious rumour. Thankfully you have confirmed that for me, but please keep it between us.’

He glanced up and closed the file, then gave a short nod as he stood up to shake her hand.

‘I am confident that you have a good career ahead of you, WPC Tennison. I have taken note of your professionalism and will happily give you a personal recommendation should you wish to apply for CID at the end of your probation.’

As she left the room Jane now knew for certain that an internal cover-up had been going on. She did recall writing up a report regarding the concerns raised about the gas tanks by DS Gibbs, and knew that it would now have been removed from the case file and destroyed. Metcalf was obviously worried that Bradfield’s failure to contemplate the risks in Operation Hawk had resulted in the carnage and loss of life that followed the explosion, but that would have been an embarrassment for him and the police force as a whole.

Metcalf had obviously seen her as a weak link, but her meeting with him was yet another learning curve. Whether or not she approved didn’t matter, she was in no position to question the outcome Metcalf and the top brass desired, not if she valued her future career. She smiled to herself and thought Kath would also have kept silent.

It was somehow a relief that when she returned to the front desk, Sergeant Harris was his usual blunt self. Pointedly he looked at his wristwatch.

‘I’ll excuse you for not being back here on time, but then of course you were with the top brass. Everything go well with Metcalf?’

‘Yes, Sarge, he mentioned...’

He stood straight and wagged his finger.

‘Don’t want to know. Life goes on, Tennison, that’s all you’ve got to know.’

There seemed to be no way anyone would ever talk about what had happened on that terrible day. No one wanted to show their feelings. Jane found it impossible to share her deep pain, and that was the way it would remain.