Tennison. Lynda La plante

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Tennison - Lynda La plante

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you wouldn’t. But just stay focused, do what you can, and if there’s a problem you have to learn how to handle it. What you mustn’t do is get tearful and act all stressed out. Don’t give ’em any ammunition. If you feel like havin’ a bit of a meltdown do it out of sight in the ladies’ locker room. You’ll see a few dents on the front of the roller towel – that’s where I’ve punched the hell out of it when I’ve been really pissed off. Now, you go and wash your face and then get ready to interview this woman – and take it from me, you’re doing just great.’

      ‘Thanks, Kath,’ Jane said and left the room.

      In the locker room she washed her hands and splashed cold water over her face. She crossed to the roller towel and dragged it down to pat herself dry. She couldn’t help but smile as she saw the dents, and then after a moment stepped back and threw a punch. It hurt like hell and she sucked her knuckles but she felt a great deal better.

      An overweight woman in her late thirties was waiting at the front counter. She wore a flowing multicoloured hippie dress, bangles on each wrist and big gold looped earrings. Her dark hair was braided into long dreadlocks and a headband encircled her forehead.

      ‘Anjali O’Duncie?’ Jane asked and the woman, who appeared anxious and nervous, nodded. Jane introduced herself and took Anjali into the small public interview room and fetched her a glass of water.

      Jane thought it best not to speak about Julie Ann without Bradfield being present, and in an effort to make pleasant conversation asked Anjali how she was.

      She shook her head and let out a big sigh. ‘Not been great recently, officer. I ended up having an operation in the very hospital I work in.’

      ‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.’

      ‘I was in terrible discomfort before they discovered it was my appendix, and they only just caught it in time. It were about to burst and could have killed me. The pain was shocking! I was in terrible agony, worse than childbirth.’

      ‘Well, I’m glad to see you’re better now,’ Jane said.

      ‘That’s not the half of it . . . I was recovering fine until the scar became infected and I was given these antibiotics which I then had an allergic reaction to. I came out in the worst rash you’ve ever seen – looked like a Dalmatian but with red spots and dark skin.’

      ‘I’ll go and see where DCI Bradfield is,’ Jane said and stood up.

      Anjali put her hand on Jane’s arm so she sat back down.

      ‘They were penicillin, you see, awful . . . I was in a terrible state, kept me in for another two weeks, agony, it was, all that time in hospital.’

      Jane wished she’d never started the conversation as Anjali couldn’t stop talking, going into great detail about her bad reaction, and repeating herself. Jane felt forced to listen without interruption simply because she couldn’t get a word in edgeways. Something struck Jane as rather strange – if O’Duncie was in hospital with appendicitis she’d have been on a different ward and not in the Drug Dependency Unit with Julie Ann.

      ‘Were you on the same ward as Julie Ann?’ Jane asked curiously.

      Anjali looked at Jane as if she was stupid. ‘You must be jokin’, of course I wasn’t. I didn’t have a drug problem. I’m no junkie, it was me damn appendix. I just told you, I had it taken out last year, and I’ve been back at work nearly three months now.’

      ‘Right, I see, sorry, I misunderstood you.’

      ‘Obviously I knew her, otherwise I wouldn’t be here, would I? Poor thing had been in and out of our clinic for weeks and I spent quite a bit of time counselling her.’

      ‘That must be hard work with drug addicts.’

      ‘I’m not a doctor or anything medically trained – I work for the clinic on a sort of social level. I mean we obviously have professionals dealing with medication as I’m not trained to do that either, but we have an area where they can have a cup of tea and biscuits.’

      Jane could sense something wasn’t quite right. ‘What does your job entail exactly?’

      ‘I look after the area, keep it tidy, counsel the addicts with a nice chat, a hot drink and biscuits.’

      Gradually Jane deduced that Anjali O’Duncie was basically a cleaner cum tea lady who had no training whatsoever in addict rehabilitation or counselling. It transpired she was paid a small hourly wage and would be there on a daily basis, but liked to sit and talk to some of the kids as it made her feel she was doing some good.

      ‘So how well did you know Julie Ann?’

      ‘I suppose I knew her quite well. I recognized her from the picture the detective had when he come to the hospital the second time and that’s why I said I’d come in here.

      ‘Terrible thing to have happened to her, but drug addicts do live dangerous lives.’

      ‘Was Julie Ann on methadone?’

      ‘Yes, but I don’t handle any drugs meself. It’s all monitored and prescribed by the doctors. Some of the addicts are very strung-out when they come in and need the methadone as a substitute for heroin to calm down.’

      ‘Can I get you another glass of water, cup of tea?’ Jane asked.

      ‘A tea would be nice, two sugars, but I have an allergy to cow’s milk, brings me out—’

      ‘In a red rash.’ Jane smiled.

      ‘That’s right – do you get it as well?’ Jane shook her head.

      She was making her way upstairs to the canteen when she came across Bradfield on the stairs. He stopped and ran his hand through his curly red hair making it stand up on end as he asked if O’Duncie had turned up.

      ‘You might find her a bit trying.’

      He frowned. ‘Why, have you been questioning her?’

      ‘I haven’t, sir, but she doesn’t stop talking, although I did try to stop her. I had her own personal medical history before she moved on to Julie Ann.’ Jane told him everything O’Duncie had said so far.

      ‘Well, looks like I won’t be long with her.’

      ‘I don’t think she works in any actual medical or counselling capacity at the hospital. I’d say she was just a cleaner or a tea lady.’

      ‘So it looks like she’s trying to big herself up and waste our time.’

      ‘Yes, could be. Would you like a coffee?’

      ‘Nope, I’ll go and talk to her.’

      Jane returned to the interview room with a cup of sugared black tea. O’Duncie was leaning on the table and repeating her appendix experience to Bradfield who was sitting opposite. He had a look of impatience on his face and gestured for Jane to sit down.

      She passed the tea to O’Duncie who peered

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