Read Ebook {PDF EPUB} Good Friday by Lynda La Plante Good Friday. During 1974 and 1975 the IRA subjected London to a terrifying bombing campaign. In one day alone, they planted seven bombs at locations across central London. Some were defused - some were not. Jane Tennison is now a fully-fledged detective. On the way to court one morning, Jane passes through Covent Garden Underground station and is caught up in a bomb blast that leaves several people dead, and many horribly injured. Jane is a key witness, but is adamant that she can't identify the bomber. When a photograph appears in the newspapers, showing Jane assisting the injured at the scene, it puts her and her family at risk from IRA retaliation. 'Good Friday' is the eagerly awaited date of the annual formal CID dinner, due to take place at St Ermin's Hotel. Hundreds of detectives and their wives will be there. It's the perfect target. As Jane arrives for the evening, she realises that she recognises the parking attendant as the bomber from Covent Garden. Can she convince her senior officers in time, or will another bomb destroy London's entire detective force? 'La Plante excels in her ability to pick out the surprising but plausible details that give her portrayal of everyday life in a police station a rare ring of authenticity' Sunday Telegraph Genre: Mystery. Chapter Five. Jane took the tube to New Scotland Yard. The underground was busy, everyone refusing to let yesterday’s explosion change their way of life. She was impressed by London’s resilience to the IRA attack. Only a day after the horrific explosion everything was up and running, and throngs of people were still using public transport to get to work. As requested by DCI Crowley, when Jane arrived at New Scotland Yard she showed her warrant card and was told that the Bomb Squad offices were on the 7 th floor. She took the lift and walked along the corridor until she came to DCI Crowley’s office. Jane knocked on the door and it opened sharply. Crowley gestured her in. “This is WDC Jane Tennison,” he announced, and waved an arm at the other man in the room. “Commander Gregson.” Gregson rose from his seat and shook Jane’s hand. There were numerous files neatly laid out alongside a telephone and notebook, with a large leather-edged blotting pad and a row of pens. The commander was austere and slim and wore an immaculate suit, unlike Crowley, whose clothes were crumpled. He looked as if he had been up all night. “Take a seat, Tennison,” said Crowley, as he sat down himself. “How are you feeling after the bombing incident?” “I’m fine thank you, sir. I’m here to give a statement about it.” “You read the papers this morning, WDC Tennison?” Gregson looked at Crowley and drew a file toward him. “There was a photojournalist who was exiting the station at the time of the explosion. He took a fair few photographs of you tending to the injured, and of you getting into the ambulance. You accompanied an elderly woman to St. Thomas’?” “Yes, I did, sir.” Jane looked from one man to the other. “Is there a problem with me going to the hospital, sir?” “No, but what is a major problem is this.” Gregson passed over a copy of a tabloid article. The heading read: IRA BLAMES WOMAN POLICE OFFICER FOR COVENT GARDEN EXPLOSION. Shocked, Jane couldn’t speak. There was a large photograph of her getting into the ambulance at Covent Garden station. Gregson lit a cigarette. “I’ll give you the gist of the article: the newspaper received a phone call from a man with an Irish accent using a code name known only to the newspapers and the Bomb Squad. As you probably know, we usually get a call, with a coded warning before an IRA bomb goes off, thus giving us time to try and evacuate civilians and reduce any possible casualties.” “I don’t understand . .” Jane said, feeling her stomach churning. Crowley pulled at his tie. “The caller told the paper that the plan was to make the coded call after the bomb was left at Covent Garden. But he says that an off-duty policewoman tried to apprehend their Active Service Unit member, and when she grabbed his arm she triggered the detonator he was holding in his pocket.” “That’s not true! Yes, I followed him as he left the station, but I barely touched his sleeve before he swiped my hand away—the bomb went off at least a minute later. By then I’d already moved back into the ticket area of the station.” Crowley got up and put his hands on her shoulders. Crowley looked at Gregson, who stubbed out his cigarette. “They needed a scapegoat, so they’re using you.” “But if I hadn’t warned people, there would have been more fatalities.” “It’s possible the suspect set the bomb off early in a panic. Whatever happened, it was a blatant act of terrorism, an attempt to bring mass fear to the streets of London.” “The press has been on to us,” Crowley interjected, glancing at Gregson. “They’re trying to find out if the IRA’s allegation bears any truth. They’ve been asking us to name the police officer concerned. We’ve said that the matter is under investigation and the primary fact is that the IRA detonated the bomb and murdered innocent civilians.” “But where does that leave me, sir? I don’t know what I would do if the public thought that I was to blame in any way.” Gregson moved to sit on the edge of the desk and face Jane. “Our concern is that someone might identify you from the photographs in the newspaper and reveal your identity to the press. I have every intention of countering the allegation and want the public to be aware of what scum the IRA are. I want this to cause unrest amongst their supporters. To that end . .” He paused to light another cigarette and inhaled deeply before he continued. “I want you to appear in a police press conference here at the Yard, stating what happened and the carnage you found yourself surrounded by. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, and we’re not going to allow the IRA to blame the Met for this.” Crowley could see she was worried. “We want the public to recognize the brave side of policing and see what underhanded lies the IRA will spread to further their cause. I want you to describe in detail the event, and I will make an appeal for assistance from the public. Your actions may make someone step forward with vital information to help identify the suspect.” Jane didn’t have the chance to reply, as there was a knock on the door and DCI Church walked in, apologizing for his late arrival. “It took longer than I anticipated to brief all my officers on their new surveillance duties in the aftermath of the explosion.” Gregson shook Church’s hand, and Crowley acknowledged him with a nod. Church, seeing that Jane was shaken, rested his hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right, Tennison?” She nodded. Gregson turned to sit down behind the desk. “DCI Church is aware of the newspaper headline,” Gregson told Jane, and then added for Church’s benefit, “I have just explained that we are organizing a press conference this afternoon, using WDC Tennison as the front person, and—” “Hang on a minute,” Church interrupted angrily. “Have you also explained the risk Tennison is taking if she does this?” “We were just about to do that when you came in, Jimmy. The press conference will no doubt piss the IRA off. There is, of course, a danger of a reprisal from them, against Tennison . .” Church leaned forward “Does Tennison also have the right to refuse to participate in the press conference?” Jane looked from one man to the other; Gregson stared at her. “I believe you are agreeable to taking part?” Jane didn’t have time to reply as Crowley gestured with his hand. “So, what does that make civilians?” Church asked, facetiously. The three men talked across Jane as if she wasn’t in the room, becoming more argumentative as they spoke. “Listen, the reason the terrorists give coded warnings is to minimize civilian targets. They give a warning very close to when they intend the bomb to be set off to delay any bomb disposal teams discovering the device. They consider themselves to be an army, not terrorists, and they want to instill fear in the public.” “Jesus Christ, you sound like you’re on their side!” Church snapped. “I fuckin’ resent that!” Crowley shouted back. Gregson rose to his feet. “Come on, now, let’s desist with this petty bickering. It is WDC Tennison’s decision and hers alone. So maybe we should all just let her have some time to think about it.” “I want to do it,” Jane said firmly. “On the condition and with your assurance that my family will be protected.” Gregson eagerly shook her hand. He was keen to get everything organized. “Thank you, WDC Tennison. I’ll green light the press conference for this afternoon at the Yard. In the meantime, DCI Crowley will brief you on what you should say. He will also take a detailed statement from you about yesterday’s events, and your brave part in trying to apprehend the suspect.” As Gregson left, the room fell silent for a moment.