Above Suspicion (43 page)

She was glad there was no embarrassment between them; to the contrary, he was totally relaxed and made her feel at ease. He was also as good as his word, apart from the smell of burning toast: he had found the cutlery, set the small bar area she used to have her meals, and was pouring coffee when she walked in.

‘That toaster is cra2y. I’m going to buy you a new one.’

‘It’s OK, just idiosyncratic: when you put it on five, it means three, but two means five.’

Anna fetched the plates, keeping herself busy as he watched over the bacon in the frying pan.

‘How do you like your eggs?’

‘Runny.’

‘Me too.’

They sat side by side on the bar stools, and he ate like a starving man, dipping his toast into his eggs.

‘You eat too fast,’ she said.

‘I know; it’s because I’m always hungry.’

He pushed his plate aside and then cocked his head to watch her. After a moment he leaned over and kissed her neck. ‘You OK with what happened last night?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good.’

He got up, carrying his dirty plates. He almost put them in her washing machine before he located the dishwasher. Then he checked his watch.

‘I’m just going to make some calls, and get them to check this diamante stone, then we should leave.’

‘OK, I’m ready,’ she said, looking at her plate. She’d hardly touched her eggs and bacon.

Langton went into the lounge and started making his calls. She ate a couple of mouthfuls, then put the rest in the bin. She put her plate into the dishwasher and went to clean her teeth.

Her bathroom was a sea of wet towels, toothpaste left uncapped; the razor he’d used was left on the side of the sink. She looked at herself, and then bowed her head. She was hardly able to believe what had happened last night.

‘Travis, let’s go!’ he bellowed.

She looked at her reflection a moment, ran a comb through her still-wet hair, and put on some lipstick.

‘Travis!’ came another bellow.

‘I heard you!’ she shouted back.

As Langton slammed her front door closed behind him, she winced.

She drove the Mini to his house and double-parked outside. He hurried out in a suit and clean shirt. He was still knotting his tie as he got in beside her.

‘Right, let’s go. Good news is, we’ve still got the bastard on tape. After you put the phone down.’

She gave him a sidelong glance. ‘Your ex-wife do the laundry for you?’

He laughed and shook his head. ‘Nope. I have a good cleaning lady. She’s a dab hand with the spray starch.’

He then made one call after another until they arrived at the station. It seemed to be business as usual as he strode ahead of her into the station; she was clipped by a set of swing doors when she wasn’t close enough on his heels.

‘Watch it, I’m behind you,’ she said, but he didn’t seem to hear. He headed straight for his office and slammed the door behind him. It was as if the night before had never happened.

At a quarter past nine, Michael Parks arrived. He sat with the team to listen to the taped call between Daniels and Anna. She was flushed with embarrassment at having to listen to herself. However, no one even alluded to the fact that there seemed to be a sexual interaction. Parks replayed the tape a couple of times, making copious notes, then gave them his take on what they’d heard.

‘One: he trips up not once, but twice. He refers to your suspect McDowell as a drunk, which implies that he has seen him recently. It was twenty years ago that he saw him in the alley with his mother.’

Langton glanced at his watch.

‘Two: there’s another leak, when he says handbag in the plural, even though DS Travis made a point of saying there was only one handbag discovered at McDowell’s.’

This had also been noted by Langton, who was becoming impatient.

‘Three: we can almost feel his anger and frustration as DS Travis constantly focuses on how intelligent and clever McDowell is. If he did, indeed, plant the incriminating evidence, imagine his confusion. Again, he repeats that McDowell is virtually a Waste of space.’

Parks flipped through his notes, chewing at the end of his pencil. ‘What does show very clearly in how he tries to manipulate DS Travis is the pattern of the classic sociopath. For instance, he is only making these calls “to help” her, see him planting the idea that she should be grateful to him, as it could mean promotion. Note again, he cannot refer to his mother by name, or cannot say the word “mother”. It is always “she”, despite the fact he uses his mother as an emotional reason for his curiosity about the progress of the enquiry.’

He tapped his notebook and then chuckled. ‘The sequence when referring to DS Travis’s clothes and saying that she didn’t look attractive is classic manipulation. He’s tempting her: trip to Paris, buying expensive clothes in Bond Street; he can make her attractive. He is, in other words, undermining her confidence and placing himself in a controlling role.’

He turned to Travis to tell her how well she had teased out the information; he was certain Daniels felt she was trustworthy. If he had found out they were still being taped, it could have been the exact opposite. Anna had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She raised her hand slightly.

‘Do you think that my life was in danger last night? He was very close and towards the end, he was drawing me into his arms as if he wanted to embrace me. In fact, if DI Langton hadn’t been in the flat, what do you think he would’ve done?’

‘His audacity in turning up at the flat yet again shows us the cracks. He is getting very desperate. But I don’t think he is earmarking you as a victim: not yet. Right now, he is really covering his tracks. But I think he is unnerved, especially by the fact McDowell is not the patsy he thought he would be. So this visit could have pushed him into making a really big mistake. It could also fuel his need to prove how brilliant he is, and that would mean another victim.’

He took a deep breath. ‘So, in answer to your question, I don’t think he intended any harm to come to you last night - you are, at present, too useful - but I believe he will. Your trust value went down a notch when DI Langton appeared. I hope I’ve impressed on you how dangerous this man is. He isn’t thinking like a hunted man. He thinks like a hunter. Right now you should be regarding him as a walking time bomb.’

At no time had Langton glanced towards Anna, though he remained attentive. Everyone in the room could feel his impatience whenever Parks covered territory that he already knew.

They were, however, still dependent on the results from the forensic laboratory to come in. Without them, they still only had circumstantial evidence and not enough to either charge Daniels or keep him in custody. He had not broken into Anna’s flat, but ‘paid a late-night visit’.

Parks concluded ‘I would say he is aware that he is under constant surveillance, which means he’s already taking risks while, at the same time, proving how clever he is by outwitting the surveillance team.’

After Parks had left, Langton gave a briefing to the team. It was imperative they retain the surveillance on Daniels. Glancing at Lewis, he said that both sides of the Queen’s Gate residence must be watched as from now. McDowell would be called in for further questioning and it was crucial they get from him any possible connection to Daniels. If Daniels had planted the handbags, then he must have known where McDowell lived.

Lewis lifted his hand. ‘Unless McDowell really did kill three of the victims. It is still a possibility.’

Langton nodded, though he seemed doubtful. However, he explained, they would be stepping up McDowell’s interrogation and pushing for a result. With no word yet from forensic, he instructed Anna and Barolli to go over there and breathe down their necks. He discussed the possibility of the pink shard of glass coming from Melissa’s T-shirt.

‘We’re clutching at straws at the moment but one of them could be enough to pick him up. So get cracking and let’s get a result today and get this animal off the street.’

In the car park, Anna and Barolli passed McDowell, handcuffed to an officer, being led away from the prison security van. He looked less fit than the day before and seemed disorientated, his feet shuffling beside the officer. His withdrawal symptoms had really kicked in and he was visibly shaking, his hair lank from sweat.

‘I wouldn’t like to interview him. Going to be like pulling teeth,’ Barolli said, watching McDowell being led into the station. They got into the patrol car. ‘Apparently, he got roughed up in the nick.’

‘Can I ask you something?’ she said quietly.

‘Of course.’

‘I’ve read the surveillance reports. Even though there wasn’t a rear exit from Daniels’s apartment, there was someone on surveillance there in case he did a roof job.’

‘Yeah, that’s right.’

‘So they must have known when he’d skipped out?’

‘Yes — well, the gov knew.’

‘Was I set up?’

Barolli knew he was in trouble. After a moment’s hesitation, he shrugged. ‘This is off the record, OK? The gov asked Lewis to do extra time. He was the one on the rear of the Queen’s Gate flat.’

‘I knew it. Langton set it up, didn’t he?’

‘Look, Anna — even I wasn’t in the loop, all right?’ Barolli flushed. The truth was, he did not approve of the risk Langton had taken.

‘Did he pull the surveillance from the mews behind Daniels’s place?’

‘Listen, it’s hard to keep up with him,’ Barolli sighed. ‘I don’t want to say anything that would put me in the shit, all right?’

She gave him a penetrating look. ‘He did though, didn’t he?’

‘I can’t say.’

From the rear of the patrol car, Anna looked out of the window, amazed at her own stupidity. Every time she felt she could trust Langton, he slapped her down.

‘I met his ex-wife, Nina,’ she said carefully, watching for a reaction.

‘Great looker, so I’ve heard.’

‘Did you know she’s the commander’s DI?’

Barolli laughed.

‘No!’ He shook his head, amused. ‘Now I know how he knows what the commander is having for lunch! He plays women like they were violins.’

Anna pursed her lips. Plays women like violins, does he? She decided to change the subject.

‘Do we know when Melissa’s body will be released for burial?’

‘Not yet. They already had samples, so they didn’t need her hair for a match. I suppose they might have already let her family take her home. Though I doubt it, really. The gov would want us to go to the funeral, out of respect. Guess she’s still at the mortuary.’

‘Home,’ Anna murmured, struck by the fact that Melissa Stephens was never ever going home. Whatever she herself had been put through lately by Langton meant nothing in comparison.

Langton placed a full packet of cigarettes in front of the huge man and watched him shake as he lit one. His solicitor, Francis Bellows, warned them that his client was not in good shape as his rights were read to him again.

After a quick glance at Lewis, Langton flipped open his file. ‘Right, let’s get started. Did anyone approach you during the past few weeks, say? Asking questions about you, where you lived? Anything that you can think of that was unusual?’

McDowell leaned back in his chair, his eyes closed. ‘Yeah, the fucker from the traffic cops towed away me car. Said it wasn’t taxed or insured; outstanding parking fines, an’ I missed a court appearance or something, I don’t know.’

‘This was recently?’

‘I can’t remember.’

Langton slapped the table with the flat of his, hand. ‘You are up for three counts of murder. If you had a hard time in prison last night, think about twenty years of it, maybe more. You’d better start thinking.’

‘Thinking about what?’ He blinked, unnerved.

‘If anyone approached you, or someone you know, asking questions about you.’

McDowell frowned. There was a long pause. He bent his head. He was ‘thinking’.

Using tweezers, the forensic scientist worked intently on Melissa’s T-shirt. First he matched the colour of the diamantes, then he prised the jeweller’s claws open with his tweezers, unclipped a stone and laid it under the microscope.

‘Colour matches,’ he said softly. He signalled for Anna to come closer. As she examined it through the microscope, he continued: ‘It’s such a small fragment: they’re probably sold in their millions. Trouble is, it’ll take time to build up the surrounds.’

Anna surrendered the microscope to Barolli, saying she would see if the T-shirt manufacturers could be of any help.

Anna went into the anteroom to use her mobile. It was disheartening to hear that it was a very big company and that millions of T-shirts with diamante designs had been manufactured. She described the specific design. She waited on hold for five minutes before a new voice came on to the phone. This woman said that this particular T-shirt was not a bulk order, but one specially commissioned by a jeweller as a deluxe promotional item. He had ordered two dozen as gifts for special occasions, to be presented to clients in a tote bag.

‘Did you supply the diamante stones?’ Anna asked.

‘Yes. The colour the client wanted was very vibrant, consequently more expensive than usual and therefore more costly to make up. But the jeweller was Theo Fennel, a top of the range designer, with a shop on the Fulham Road.’

Anna listened, trying to be patient. ‘Yes, I recognized the logo. So you’re saying the stones were not mass-produced?’

‘No. In fact, the ones you are talking about were the last of a batch. They went out of business soon after so we couldn’t order any more.’

Anna closed her eyes. ‘Thank you.’

When Anna returned to sit with Barolli, she relayed the information. The scientist appeared and gestured for them to join him. Two massive blow-up pictures were in the light box. One contained a single stone removed from the T-shirt; the other had the shard of pink glass.

‘You can see from picture one that on the entire stone there are small grooves, resulting from the claws that held the stone in place. On the second picture, we have a section of that stone. In the right-hand corner there is a very tiny indentation and at first we didn’t even see it. Then it was magnified to this size.’