snapped. ‘I want to go into my flat and make the call from there.’
She looked in better shape than Beale had been expecting – make-up still in place and hair rolled neatly in the pleat behind her head – and he wondered if her client had had his money’s worth. ‘That’s not a problem . . . as long we accompany you.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Why would I take three strange men into my flat when I’ve already said I’m afraid of you? Either I go in alone or I’ll sue the Metropolitan Police for intimidation.’
Beale smiled good-humouredly. ‘So you do recognize me?’
She shrugged. ‘Whatever. Any court will agree that it’s unreasonable to surround a woman in the middle of the night when all you want to do is ask her questions. I’ll make an appointment to talk to you tomorrow.’
‘Can’t do that, I’m afraid. Would the presence of a woman constable set your mind at rest?’
He watched her made a quick calculation in her head as she tested her options. ‘Not if it means I have to stand out here waiting for her. I’m cold and I’m tired and I need to sit down.’
Beale held up his mobile again. ‘We can sort this very quickly if you dial 999 now, Ms Morley. I understand your concerns, but we believe you have information that will assist our inquiry.’
‘I don’t even know what inquiry you’re talking about.’
‘An elderly gentleman was assaulted outside his home in Bermondsey last Friday.’
She looked at him in surprised disbelief, her huge eyes widening like a little girl’s. ‘You mean the old chap who was taken to hospital? How would I know anything about that? What time did it happen?’
Her surprise seemed genuine, thought Beale. ‘Midday.’
‘Then I wasn’t even in Bermondsey. I left here at about eleven-thirty to meet a friend for lunch in central London.’
Beale smiled pleasantly. ‘No one’s suggesting you were involved in the attack, Ms Morley. The questions relate to certain items that may be connected to the inquiry. We believe they were in your possession at one time.’
‘What items?’
‘I have photographs to show you.’ He gestured towards the front door of her block. ‘May we come inside?’
There was something very wrong inside her flat, he thought, judging by the way she kept computing different courses of action. She tried a tired smile. ‘I can’t do it tonight,’ she said, placing a slender hand against her belly. ‘I’ve been having really bad period pains for two hours. I’m sure my solicitor would say it’s unfair to question me under those circumstances.’ She offered him the wide, innocent gaze again. ‘I truly am perfectly willing to come to the police station later.’
‘Is that a refusal to cooperate, Ms Morley?’
‘Only on the grounds that what you’re asking is unreasonable.’
‘Then you leave me no choice but to invoke stop and search powers, Ms Morley. DCs Wagstaff and Hicks of Southwark East police station—’
The change in her demeanour was immediate. Her face blazed with sudden fury. ‘That’s a cheap threat,’ she broke in angrily. ‘I’ve given you no reason at all to suspect me of carrying illegal drugs.’
‘A suspect can be stopped and searched on the basis of a tip-off, Ms Morley. Shortly before midnight a man called Lemarr Wilson, also known as Duane Stewart, was taken into custody. He made a statement which leads us to believe you are in possession of a class-A drug. DC Wagstaff will explain your rights before the search commences.’
‘You’re lying.’
‘He gave a very good description of a woman who bought five hundred milligrams of cocaine off him at around eight-thirty last night. He knows you as Cass.’ Beale smiled slightly. ‘You’re very distinctive-looking, Ms Morley. Too distinctive. I saw you myself after you’d made the purchase. That’s what led us to Lemarr Wilson.’
Something like fear flickered in her eyes, but she made an effort to compose herself. ‘I’ll answer your questions at the station. That’s what you came for, isn’t it?’
Beale ignored her. ‘Should a class-A drug be found on your person, Ms Morley, you will be arrested. In addition, your premises will be searched under the extended powers that such an arrest allows.’
‘I can refuse to be searched by men,’ she hissed. ‘You should have brought a woman with you.’
‘You only half know your law, Ms Morley. Nevertheless –’ he raised his hand and beckoned to a passenger in his car – ‘WPC Barnard will conduct the inspection as soon as you’ve placed your bag and the contents of your pockets on the ground in front of you and stepped away from them.’
Jen watched the woman police officer approach and a smile suddenly transformed her face. ‘Hi,’ she said with easy friendliness. ‘I’m sorry about this. I didn’t much fancy being patted down by your male colleagues.’
The WPC, who was carrying a small holdall, came to a halt beside Beale. She was a sturdy forty-year-old with fifteen years’ service and she eyed Jen with amusement. ‘Each to his own,’ she said lightly. ‘In your shoes I’d have chosen the men. Same-sex searches are a lot more thorough.’
Beale nodded to DC Wagstaff to read Jen her rights. When the officer had finished, the DI said, ‘Everything on the ground, please, Ms Morley, including the object in your hand.’
Jen uncurled her palm to look at it. ‘It’s only a rape alarm.’ She opened her leather shoulder bag, put the device inside it, along with a tissue from a pocket, then pressed the flap closed and lowered the bag to the pavement. ‘That’s all there is,’ she said, stepping backwards.
The WPC eyed her for a moment, then knelt down and took a square of plastic sheeting from the holdall, which she unfolded on to the pavement. She snapped on some gloves and, using a foot-long grab-stick to hook the strap, she dragged the bag on to the sheeting.
‘Most of these guns are effective through heavy clothing,’ she told Beale, ‘so leather won’t prevent an
