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’ Court before I got there.’
Jane was confused. ‘How do you know he confessed?’ Marie was in floods of tears. ‘That detective inspector who came to the house, he saw me just now in the station. He say Peter been charged with the rape and indecent assaults and he be remanded in custody at the court to stand trial.’
Jane was now even more shocked. ‘He confessed to DI Moran?’
‘Yes, in an interview last night. I not believe it at first, but Moran show me Peter’s signed confession and I see his signature.’
Jane didn’t know what to say to Marie. She had genuinely believed that Peter Allard was innocent of the rape, but to hear that he had made a signed confession made her feel naïve and foolish for what she had said to DC Edwards about Moran planting the knife.
Jane told Marie that she had to go to work, and hurried into the station. She went straight to the CID office to speak with DI Moran. There were a few detectives at their own desks, but Moran’s office was empty. Jane went over to Edwards’s desk and spoke to him in a low voice.
‘Where’s Moran?’
‘He’s gone to the Magistrates’ Court with Allard, to object to bail.’
Flustered, Jane took a deep breath.
‘Is it true that Allard signed a confession?’
Edwards nodded. He had a raging headache as he’d drunk too much at the birthday bash the previous evening.
‘I can’t believe Allard signed a confession . . . were you present?’
Edwards could see some of the other detectives looking at them both.
‘Not here, Jane,’ he whispered. ‘I’ll meet you downstairs in five minutes.’
Jane
