Chapter 28 Chapter Twenty Seven

A taxi came and stopped beside the van that had been parked on the side of the road.Jane Morley got out of the taxi and walked towards the door of the apartment building.Bill reached for the intercom and whispered, "Go!" He noted the time—03:17—and gently opened the Toyota door. Two plainclothes police officers came out of the shadows on the side of the building and met under the light from the energy-saving lamps in the building's foyer.They stood in front of Jen, prevented her from entering the building, and showed her credentials. "I have a rape alarm!" she warned.

"Met Police, Miss Morley," said one of the officers, "we are investigating an attack in Gainsborough Road last Friday and we believe you may be able to assist us in answering some questions. We are very pleased I would be happy to talk in your apartment, and if you like, you can also accompany us to the Southwark East Police Station." She stared at him with astonishing calm. "Do I look like I have a 'fool' sticker on my forehead," she whispered. "I can't even read what it says on your ID here." Obeying the instructions of their superiors not to force her, the two policemen stayed where they were. "If you have a mobile phone," the policeman said again, "I can give you a number, and you can call them to verify our identities."

"The only number I'm going to dial is 999," she said, pulling a slim phone from her pocket. "Are you sure you want me to?" "That's true, Miss Morley." Bill appeared two yards behind her. "Ask for Inspector Bill, and you'll find yourself talking to me." He held up his cell phone. "If you remember, we just spoke a few days ago." She turned suddenly, stepped back, and faced Bill. "You startled me by being so close," she snapped. "I want to go back to the apartment and call from there." She looked better than Bill had expected—makeup still on, hair neatly pulled back—and, he wondered, did her client think she was getting her money's worth?

"That's not a problem... as long as we go in with you." She narrowed her eyes. "Why would I bring three strange men into the flat? I've said you frightened me. Let me in alone, or I'll sue the Metropolitan Police for duress." Bill smiled kindly. "So you do know me?" She shrugged. "Anyway, surrounding a woman in the middle of the night just to ask her questions would be unreasonable in any court of law. I'll make an appointment with you guys tomorrow to talk." "I'm afraid I can't. The presence of a policewoman will reassure you?"

She made quick calculations in her head, weighing the trade-offs, "Not if it means I have to stand here and wait for her. I'm cold and tired, and I need to sit down." Bill held up the phone again. "If you call 999 now, I can resolve this very quickly, Miss Morley. I understand your concern, but we believe you have information that will help us solve the case." "I don't even know what you're solving." "In Bermondsey last Friday, an elderly gentleman was beaten on his doorstep." She showed an unbelievably surprised expression, staring at innocent big eyes like a little girl, "You mean the old man who was taken to the hospital? How could I know any information about this matter? When did it happen? "

Her surprise seemed genuine, Bill thought, "Noon." "I wasn't even in Bermondsey at the time. I left about 11.30pm and went to have lunch with a friend in central London." Bill smiled pleasantly. "There's no suggestion that you had anything to do with this attack, Miss Morley. There are several things in question that may be relevant to the investigation. We believe these things were in your possession." "what?" "I have pictures for you." He pointed to the door of the apartment. "Can we go in and talk?" She seemed to be constantly calculating different courses of action, and based on that, something was wrong in her apartment, Bill thought.She tried a weary smile, "Not tonight," she put her slender hands on her belly, "I've been suffering from very severe dysmenorrhea for more than two hours, and I'm sure my lawyer would say that in this case It's not fair to ask me questions." She looked at him innocently again, "I'd really like to go to the police station later."

"Is this a refusal to cooperate, Miss Morley?" "Just because your demands are unreasonable." "Then we have no choice but to invoke stop and search powers, Miss Morley. Detectives Wagstaff and Hicks of Southwark East Police—" Her attitude changed immediately, with a furious expression, "This is a despicable threat," she said angrily, "You have no reason to suspect that I am carrying drugs." "Miss Morley, as long as someone informs, we have the right to stop the suspect and require him to be searched. Before midnight, a man named Lema Wilson, also known as Duane Stewart, was detained. His words made We believe you are in possession of a Class A drug. Detective Wagstaff will explain your rights before the search begins."

"you are lying." "A woman bought 500 mg of cocaine from him at around 8:30 last night. He described the woman's appearance in great detail. In his place, your name is Cass." Bill smiled slightly, "Your appearance is very Different, Miss Morley, so different, I saw you myself after you bought the drugs. It was you who led us to Lema Wilson." There was something like fear in her eyes, but she managed to keep her composure, "I'll answer your questions at the police station. That's what you're here for, isn't it?" Bill ignored her question. "If Class A drugs are found on your person, you will be arrested, Miss Morley. Also, your residence will be searched under extended powers of arrest."

"I can refuse to be searched by men," she said through gritted teeth, "You should bring a policewoman here." "You don't know much about the law, Miss Morley. But," he said, raising his hand and beckoning into the car, "Policewoman Barnard will carry out this search, as long as you leave your bag and its contents Just put it on the ground and walk a few steps away." Seeing the female police officer approaching, Jane suddenly changed her attitude and smiled, "Hey," she said relaxed and friendly, "I'm sorry for that, I don't like being patted all over your body by your male colleagues."

The policewoman, carrying a small suitcase, stopped beside Bill.A strong-bodied woman of forty with fifteen years on the police force, she stared at Jen with interest. "Each has advantages and disadvantages," she said lightly, "If I were you, I would choose a man, and the same-sex search would be more thorough." Bill nodded to Inspector Wagstaff, and he began to read to Jane her rights, and when he had finished the Inspector said, "Please put everything on the ground, Miss Morley, including the things in your hands." Jane held out her palm. "It's just a rape alarm." She opened her leather shoulder bag, put the alarm in, took a tissue from her pocket, put it in, snapped the button, and put the bag on the sidewalk. "It's all here." She said and stepped back.

The policewoman gave her a hard look, knelt down, took out a square piece of plastic sheeting from the suitcase and spread it on the road, then put on gloves, picked up Jane's shoulder bag with a one-foot-long grapple, and put it on the ground. onto the plastic sheeting. "Most of these guns are still effective even if they're wrapped in heavy clothing," she told Bill, "so the leather won't protect against accidental discharge at all." Flipping it open, the contents were revealed. "It's definitely a stun gun," she confirmed. "This one is called Xiaoyuer, but the voltage is as high as 1 million volts. The red light means it is ready to fire." , ready to discharge." She leaned to one side, allowing Bill to look over her shoulder. "How do I turn it off?" "There's supposed to be a switch on the side - but I'd dump it on plastic sheeting to be safer. I don't want to put my hands in it and hope it ends well...or even be the butt of Miss Morley's jokes." She grabbed the edge of the plastic sheeting, gave it a slight shake, and the bag flipped over to Jane's side, the stun gun fell out, and a deafening, high-intensity electronic siren pierced the night sky sharply.Seeing Jane backing away again and again, the policewoman grinned, "Most reasonable men will run away when they hear the siren," she leaned forward and flicked the switch, "Those who don't run end up lying on the ground ten Can't get up for a minute." She grabbed the bottom of the bag with the grapple and shook the rest of the contents onto the plastic sheeting.From the odds and ends, she separated an empty ballpoint pen barrel and a gilt compact. "Not imagining," she said, popping off the compact to show Bill the white powder inside, "nine out of ten women use make-up to cover up their stashes." She stood up and motioned for Jen to come forward, "Please spread your legs apart and extend your arms out to your sides. After I check your clothes for anything else, you will be taken to the police station, where You may be required to undergo a more intimate and thorough search." For a moment Jane looked as if she was going to defer to the policewoman's vivacious, serious demeanor, then suddenly she raised her hand and waved at the policewoman.This time the policewoman's smile was dismissive, because she easily grabbed Jane's throwing hand and twisted it to Jane's back. "I told you you should have picked a man," she murmured, grabbing Jane's other hand and cuffing it tightly. "They'd probably be stupid enough to let you do that." When Jackson visited Akland for the second time, he had woken up and was sitting cross-legged on the corner of the bed, resting with his back against the wall.Seeing Jackson appear in the open cell door, he nodded. "I'm sorry," he said simply. "Sorry for what?" "Everything...damaged your car...that duffel bag...involved you again, it's not fair to you or your patient." Jackson leaned against the door frame, folded his arms in his arms, "Then why did you do that? I don't even have a car now. It was dragged to the laboratory for testing." "I'm sorry." He got up and tried to stand up, "Aren't you going to sit down?" "No, thank you...don't keep saying, sorry, that's the most infuriating word. It's just a cheap excuse to put responsibility Push aside and place the onus of tolerance on another innocent person." He knew her well enough now to know that she had a knife mouth and a bean curd heart. "I didn't mean to," he said, "I got wrapped up in that damn bag and I didn't know what to do." "Why didn't you turn it in to the nearest police station? A normal person would do that." "A normal person wouldn't even look for it in the first place." There was a self-deprecating gleam in his good eyes. "I wouldn't have looked for it if I knew what was in it." "What do you think it is?" He shrugged. "I probably thought it was Ben's property, and it pissed me off that he denied knowing about it." He leaned his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. "Jock hadn't had time to get rid of it quickly. It should be suspected." "Then it still falls into your hands," Jackson said, "and you have to because you're so curious." Akram nodded in acknowledgment, "But I won't pay for it." "How much?" "Fifty pounds." She laughed suddenly. "You shouldn't have been allowed to go out alone. Jock said you traded it for a bottle of cheap vodka. Why would those lesbians let you in again?" "I didn't ask to go back in. I just stood outside the row of houses and waited for Jock to come out. It didn't take long. He said he hadn't had a drink in 12 hours." "How do you know he's there?" "While we were there, I heard a man coughing in another room in the hallway, I didn't actually know it was Jock, but I figured it was worth a try." He met her eyes for a moment, " Thank you for telling the police he was there." "You could have done it yourself. You had great timing when the Sheriff spoke to you outside the Crown Bar." "I promised Jock not to tell the police." Jackson smiled mockingly. "It's the same contradiction as Pontius Pilate, Charles. How long are you going to sit on this bag before taking a stand?" "I'm not taking sides. I'm trying to figure it out," he paused, sighing, "Jock said the bag belonged to Ben. Did he tell the police that?" "So to speak. His opinion seems to be that Ben took the bag into the alley, so it must be his... the law also judges whoever is the bearer is most likely to be the true owner." She looked Seeing the suspicion on Aklan's face, "The police don't believe it." "I don't expect them to believe it." "Then I suggest you come up with some plausible answers as to how you came to know there was such a bag. I remember you telling the Sheriff that you just thought there was such a thing." Jane had an open living room with the kitchen at one end, and apart from a glass cocaine straw on the table, there seemed to be no reason for Jane not to let the police follow her.If she'd come in with a straw in her hand, Bill didn't think they'd even notice.The room was a bit messy, with all kinds of clothes thrown casually on the back of the sofa, and several pairs of shoes scattered on the floor. "It looks like she can't figure out what to wear," Wagstaff said. "If she has to take it to the living room to choose, I wonder what the bedroom will look like." "More importantly, what is it that makes her so shy here? If she is willing to come in with us, it is only this room that we have a reason to walk in." There was a computer on a desk against the wall, and Agent Hicks nodded at the screen. "Her computer is still on. I can hear the fan. She probably didn't turn it off before she left." He walked away. Past, touching the mouse with a gloved finger, "What the hell!" he said in a light-hearted tone. "If she had to look at pictures of herself like this, she'd be narcissistic to the extreme." Bill and Wagstaff approached, staring at the nude or semi-naked pictures on the screen.The pictures are all in standard soft-porn poses—either naked, on hands and knees, butt provocatively pouted, or topless sitting on a chair, wearing sexy high heels and bikinis. The text next to the photo reads: "Soft Italian accent?" Bill asked. "When Barnard handcuffed her, she sounded like Estuary English. Doesn't anyone care about this internet crap?" Hicks grinned. "Should I go back a page? Might take us to her agency homepage." Bill nodded. The detective grasps the mouse with his gloved thumb and forefinger, points the cursor at the "back" arrow, and presses the "click" button. He pulls out his notebook and jots down the name Perfect Party and its phone number.He nodded at the pictures of other girls scrolling across the page. "Looking at the names, I think most of them are Eastern European...unless they're using fake names." "Try minimizing," Bill told him. "Let's see if there are any open windows down there." Hicks moved the cursor to the other side of the screen and clicked on again. "Microsoft Outlook. There are three emails in my inbox. Do you want me to open them?" Bill stroked his new-growth stubble thoughtfully, wondering how much leeway they had in this search, "Not now. Click 'Contacts.' We're looking for Lema Wilson or Duane Stewart power." The three of them stared at the displayed page."Robert Allen" in the upper left corner, "Timothy Gaines" in the lower right corner, "Kevin Atkins" a third of the way down the second column, and an inch down the third column is "Martin Britton and John Prentice". Hicks pointed to an icon at the bottom of the screen. "She used a phone sync software to add information from her phone, which is why very few names had email addresses. All she wrote down were phone numbers." "Britten doesn't even have a phone number, just his address on Glenham Road." "Maybe that's all she knows." Hicks clicked on the letter "P." "No Harry Peel." "Try T for a taxi service number," Bill said, "and if God smiles on us, we'll find Walter Tardin's name."