Blind Fury (28 page)

“Yes. He has a hatred of prostitutes and always refers back to her as holding the clue. He says she must have known her killer.”

“So what do we do? Go back yet again over all the information we have on her?”

“Well, we’ve been pretty thorough, and we’ve not found any connection.”

Barbara joined them, asking if they should return the boxes of receipts and contracts to Swell Blinds. Her desk was stacked high with them, as was Joan’s.

“The only stuff we didn’t check out were the orders for vertical blinds, as John Smiley didn’t fit that sort, and the company’s no longer got the contracts. Ones like that, not the wooden slatted ones.” Barbara turned and gestured to the incident room’s windows. “According to all these hundreds of calls, and there have been God knows how many interviews, every one of these orders that had John Smiley down as delivering or measuring have been checked out. We were told not to focus on the factory orders for hotels and other businesses that use vertical blinds. That includes the contracts they had for housing associations, schools, gymnasiums—”

“Go through them, Barbara,” Anna said suddenly.

“All of them?”

“Yes. Sorry. If John Smiley fitted them . . .”

“But he was only on the wooden slatted ones, wasn’t he?”

“I don’t know, Barbara, but just cover yourselves to make sure we’ve not missed anything.”

Mike Lewis then called Anna into his office, eating a sandwich as he gestured for her to sit. “Langton’s gonna pull out half my team, leaving me with just a handful, as he can’t get the finances to continue. We’ve had twenty-eight officers doing a lot of the legwork, and he needs them for other cases. Clerical staff have already been pulled, and he was going nuts about how much that bloody Polish interpreter cost.”

Anna said nothing, as she had expected it would happen.

“Do you know how many blue blankets were issued over the past eight years?” Mike demanded.

“No, I don’t.”

“Five hundred and fifty thousand!”

“So where does that leave us?”

“With as much chance of tracking down where the blanket came from as winning the sodding lottery. They’re in prisons, hostels, charity shops . . . it’s fucking impossible, and for her, that’s all we’ve got.”

“Any chance of her relatives coming over?”

“No. Besides, she’s been cremated.”

“Wouldn’t they want to take her ashes back to Poland?”

“We’ve not traced any family members apart from her sister. Besides, we’d have to pay, and with the budget out of control, I don’t have the finances.”

“But we might get something about Dorota’s background if we keep trying. We know so little about the victims, apart from Margaret Potts.”

“You talk to Langton. He’s bitten my head off once too often. Have you any idea how much this case has cost to date?”

“If they weren’t Polish, would—”

“Don’t even go there,” he snapped.

Anna decided to go up to the canteen for a coffee and bacon roll. Facing her was a window with vertical blinds. She stared at them as she finished her late breakfast.

Barbara was removing her cardigan as Anna got back to her desk. “I’m going to need my eyes tested again.” The DC sighed. “If I’m not glued to the computer all day, it’s sifting through this lot.”

“Did Swell Blinds have any contracts for vertical blinds with police stations?”

“I’ve not come across one yet, but there’s got to be hundreds of firms that make them. They’re very popular because they’re cheap.”

Anna frowned. Something was niggling at the back of her brain; she just couldn’t bring it out. Opening her briefcase, she took out the three notebooks she’d filled during the investigation and began to skim through each one. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for but hoped that something would jog her memory.

“You look different,” Joan said.

“Pardon?”

“I just said you look different. Dunno what it is, but you look . . .”

“Different. Yes, so you said.”

“I’m going to the canteen—you want anything?”

“No, thank you, Joan.” When DC Falkland had gone, Anna opened her handbag to take out a mirror and looked at herself. Yes, she
was
different; she felt different because she was in love.

“Nothing better to do?” Barolli said as he passed her desk, also on his way to the canteen.

Anna put her mirror away, then hurried across to Barbara. “The contract for the Swell Blinds company . . .”

“Which one? Take your pick.”

“No, you said something about a housing association . . .”

“Yeah, they had a whopper of a contract but lost it, part of the reason Swell Blinds uprooted to Manchester.” The DC began to search through a stack covered in yellow stickers. “Arnold Rodgers said something about losing the contract because there were so many companies after it who had contacts within the housing association. In other words, it was possible that money changed hands.” Barbara continued sifting, asking, “You thinking of ordering some for your flat?”

Anna made no reply, waiting impatiently until Barbara handed over a thick set of documents stapled together. Anna took them back to her desk, her heart jumping as she thumbed through the orders. Next she flicked through her notebook to her first interview with Emerald Turk. To trace her, she had gone through Social Services, and they had put her in touch with the Strathmore Housing Association, which had rehoused Emerald in a newly refurbished apartment in a high-rise block. Anna picked up the phone, trying to keep herself calm, but felt certain she was on the right track. She recalled looking toward the window in Emerald’s kitchen and was positive that the woman had vertical blinds.

Anna tapped on Mike Lewis’s office door and went straight in before he could answer. “I think I’ve got something,” she said.

“Dear God, not another tattoo or blue blanket?” he joked tiredly.

“No, it’s a connection between Swell Blinds and the possibility that Margaret Potts might have met John Smiley.”

Mike leaned back in his chair, waiting.

“Emerald Turk was rehoused in Hackney by the Strath-more Housing Association. They had Swell Blinds under contract—this would have been shortly before they lost that contract and moved to Manchester. On their receipts, they don’t have John Smiley as the man fitting the blinds, but I want to go and talk to them anyway.”

Mike leaned forward, saying, “I don’t quite see the connection.”

“Margaret Potts stayed on occasion with Emerald Turk, even left her suitcase. She could have been in the flat when John Smiley fitted the blinds.”

“Christ, it’s a bloody long shot, Anna.”

“But it is one, and I would also like to get another search warrant for Emerald Turk’s flat.”

“Leave it with me, but please get some kind of verification first that it was Swell Blinds.”

Anna drove over to the Strathmore Housing Association in Hackney. As she was asking about a contract from at least five years ago, they were doubtful they would still have the information. Anna mentioned Emerald Turk’s name, and that got a reaction. Half an hour later, Anna had learned that when Emerald Turk was given the flat, the housing association was still using Swell Blinds. Anna could sense there was some kind of a problem because the woman being interviewed explained how they had, from what she recalled, some trouble with the blinds; in some cases, there were complaints about them falling apart almost immediately.

“So we used another company, and we have been very satisfied.”

“Did the housing association fit the vertical blinds in these properties, or did the company put them up?”

“Oh, we would have used their fitters. You have to understand that we are preparing properties for tenants all year round and can have anything up to a hundred or more that would require redecoration, furnishing, renewing the electrical appliances, replacing bathrooms. Some of our tenants are not only short of money but have lived in squalor or on the streets, and damage to our properties is not unknown.”

“Would you have the name of the person who fitted the vertical blinds in Emerald Turk’s flat?”

“No, we wouldn’t retain that, as it was totally up to the company doing the work. All the flats in Miss Turk’s building would have had the same refurbishing, same kitchen and bathroom fittings. We have major contracts out to tenure every year.”

“But you didn’t renew the Swell Blinds contract five years ago, is that correct?”

“I don’t have the exact details in front of me, but we have been satisfied with our present contractors. It’s always down to costs. We have to keep them at a bare minimum.”

“Would you have any kind of record if Miss Turk had had any problem with these vertical blinds?”

“I don’t understand.”

“If they were not satisfactory, who would handle the complaint?”

“If she did have any problems, we would, of course—but you are asking about a situation from five years ago, so I doubt we would retain any record of it.”

“Could you please check for me?”

It turned out that Emerald
had
made various complaints—about her hot-water system and central heating—but they had no note of any problem with the blinds. Anna then asked if the blinds would be in place and all refurbishments completed before the tenant took residence, and she was informed frostily that every attempt was made by the association to ensure that the tenants moved into a totally refurbished flat, but on occasion, due to the workload, there might be minor faults that required attention.

Anna could see the look of expectation on the team’s faces when she returned. She put her hands up.

“It’s possible. Right time frame. Swell Blinds
did
fit vertical blinds in Emerald Turk’s flat, so this means there is a possibility they were fitted by John Smiley. It is also a possibility that Margaret Potts was there, as she often stayed with Emerald.”

Barbara said that of all the vertical blinds they had been able to check that morning, none had been fitted by anyone employed by Swell Blinds. So far they had no record of John Smiley doing work at schools or factories or on large orders.

“But he might have been sent to measure?” Anna asked.

Barbara shook her head. “Not according to Arnold Rodgers. He used the two men we interviewed via Wendy Dunn. These blinds are apparently easy to erect, not like the wooden ones, so he didn’t use John Smiley because he’s too experienced.”

When Anna nodded, Barbara continued, “You see, with the wooden slatted blinds, you’ve got to also fit a top frame—you know, like a pelmet. You need to have precise measurements.”

“Thank you, Barbara.”

“I’m only just repeating what Mr. Rodgers said.”

Anna glanced at Barolli. “Search warrant set up, is it?” He nodded, and Anna checked the time; it was now after six. She said to Barolli, “We go first thing in the morning. She has to get her kids off to school, so we call at nine. Pick you up outside Tower Hill tube station at eight, all right?”

“Why not go there now?”

“She works nights, Paul. We go tomorrow morning.” And with that, Anna picked up her briefcase and walked out.

Barbara whispered to Joan, “I think she’s met someone. She’s Miss Confident all of a sudden. Anybody know who it is?”

Overhearing, Barolli laughed. “We know Cameron Welsh can’t get out of his cell, but she did go up to see him on her own after swearing that wild dogs wouldn’t get her to visit him again.”

“You are kidding me?” Barbara said, and Barolli rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Barbara, I’m joking.”

He turned to the incident board and moved closer to read the reports of the interviews with Cameron Welsh. “You know something? That bastard might have been right all along. He’s said from day one that Margaret Potts holds the key, and here we are, how many bloody weeks later, finding out that maybe she does.”

Chapter Twelve

A
s soon as Emerald opened her front door on Tuesday morning and saw Anna and Barolli, she shrieked, “I don’t fucking believe this! You have got to be joking.”

Anna showed the search warrant, but Emerald had already swung the door open wide.

“Bloody harassment, this is. Come in, make yourselves at home, why don’t you? Do what the hell you fucking like!”

“Can we go into the kitchen, please, and with you present.”

Emerald threw her arms up in exasperation, leading them into the kitchen.

Anna gestured at the vertical blinds. “I need to ask you a few questions about your blinds.”

Emerald’s jaw dropped. She looked at Anna and back at the blinds. “Eh? What you on about?”

“Can we sit down?”

“You can do tango dancin’ for all I care. What do you want to know about the blinds for? They don’t work. The kids pulled the cord and they’ve fallen down a few times, and the rod’s come away from the wall. Is this about damage or somethin?”

Anna perched on a stool while Barolli remained standing in the doorway. “I need to know exactly how long you have been living here.”

“Five-odd years.”

“When you moved in, were the blinds already in place?”

“They was, everythin’ was here, but the ones in the kitchen soon got broken, and then the ones in the box room fell down. I never even bloody touched them. I had a lot of aggravations with me central heatin’ and me gas cooker. I was gonna complain about the blinds as well, ’cause if they’d fallen on my kids, they could have cracked their heads open. Look, I’m not being made to pay nuffink, as it’s been bloody five years.”

“When you complained, did someone come round to fix them?”

Emerald shrugged, saying sullenly, “I never told them nuffink. It was me central heatin’ I was worried about, but I might have told the bloke they sent to look at the boiler . . . and he might have passed it on to the people at Strathmore. Yeah, they did send someone. Yeah, that’s right. I remember now.”

Anna stared at Emerald, willing her to help them. “It’s very important,” she said. “Can you recall who came to repair them?”

“Why?”

“It’s possible we are interested in talking to this person.”

“Well, I dunno, it’s a long time ago. He came twice or maybe three times, but you see, the kids were just small then.”

“Emerald, I’m not here for any other reason than wanting to know about the person who came to fix these blinds.”

The young woman took out a packet of Silk Cut and lit one, then she sat on one of the stools. “Jesus, let me think . . . I remember a bloke did come, but he said I’d need a new cord or something, or maybe the little chains had busted. They’re all linked with these chains, and he was here for ages.” She gestured at the kitchen window blinds.

“Can you describe him?”

She puffed out the cigarette smoke, thinking. “He wasn’t English, good-lookin’, I think . . . no, wait a minute. He took the ones from in ’ere away, and they was brought back by another geezer.”

“Did you talk to this second man?”

“Yeah. He done them up in here, and . . .” She frowned, inhaled, and blew out a cloud of smoke. “He also got us some new ones for the spare bedroom—not like these ones, different wooden ones. Said he had some the right size in the van.”

“Wooden slatted blinds?”

“Yeah, that’s right, but they fell down a couple of years ago, and I haven’t bothered to replace them. It’s just used as the box room now—the kids have it as a playroom.”

“Can you describe this man?”

“Not really. He was sort of tallish, dark-haired, and I had to go out, so I left him with . . .” She hesitated.

“Was someone else staying with you?”

“Oh, I’m with you,” Emerald sneered. “Those bloody Social Services—it was fucking years ago! They trying to prove I rent out a room, are they? Well, it’s not fucking true! I don’t, and I never have done.”

“Who was in the box room, Emerald?”

“Maggie, she was here—one of her drop-in and passing-out nights. She was here, so I left her to sort him out.”

“Margaret Potts was here in the flat when this man fixed the blinds?”

“I just said so, didn’t I? She was gone when I come home, and the blind was up. I paid him some cash before I left.”

Anna stood up and asked if she could see the box room. Emerald stubbed out her half-smoked cigarette and put the butt in the pocket of a bathrobe she was wearing. She hugged the gown closer, saying she was going to get dressed. “I took the kids to school and then come back for a shower, that’s why I’m in me dressing gown.”

“Just show us the box room, please.”

The room was packed mostly with what looked like broken toys. A small single bed had a box of LEGOs sitting on top of a stained child’s duvet. The only remaining part of the blind was a brown wooden pelmet; the rest lay in pieces on the floor.

“When did you see Margaret again?”

Emerald sighed and said she’d been over this time and time again, but she didn’t see her for ages after that. Folding her arms, she said that she had also told Margaret that she couldn’t stay. “I just didn’t like her turning up, usually stoned out of her head or drunk, and so I never saw her for ages. Next thing, she gets murdered. I told all this to you.”

“Do you remember the name of the company that fixed up your blinds?”

“No. Social Services and the housing association arranged it. They done the place up, all I did was pay this bloke a bit extra ’cause he said he could get a blind for this room on the cheap, and I didn’t want to involve the housing association again. I dunno who he worked for. I only met him the once, and that was for only a short while, ’cause I had to go out.”

“Did you see what vehicle he used to bring the blinds into the house?”

“No. I’m on the third floor.”

“Did Margaret ever mention talking to the man?”

“No. She’d gone when I got back—I just told you.”

Barolli asked if he could look around the rest of the flat, and Emerald told him he could do what he liked, then led the way back to the kitchen. Anna asked if Emerald would be prepared to come in to the station, where they would get a number of men on video. If she would agree, perhaps she could identify the man who was at her flat.

“Christ, this just goes on and on, doesn’t it? It was a long time ago, and like I said, I hardly spoke two words to him.”

“It’s possible that this man could have been involved in Margaret’s murder.”

Emerald relit the butt of her cigarette. “You know, I wouldn’t put it past Maggie to wake up and give the bloke a blow job if he paid her a few quid. She was like that.”

Anna next asked if Emerald could recall the exact date she last saw Margaret Potts—this would be after the time she had stayed in the box room—but Emerald was very vague. “Does it matter?” she asked.

“Yes, it does. Where did you see her?”

“Listen, I feel a bit bad about this, but I never actually saw her again. I remember she rang me up once, a long time after, and wanted to come over and collect her stuff, and I told her that I wouldn’t be in. I honestly didn’t like her coming here, and that was the last time I ever spoke to her. Poor cow was dead not long after that . . .”

“Did she say anything to you that concerned you, anything unusual?”

“I think she was drunk.”

“What time of day did she call you?”

Emerald wrinkled her nose and said that it would have been around nine in the evening.

“So was she calling you from the service station?”

“Might have been, I dunno. It was a pay phone—I remember that. This was all such a long time ago, it’s hard to remember. All I know is, I said she couldn’t come over.”

Anna nodded and made a few notes in her notebook. “I really need you to think about the date that Margaret stayed, when you left her here with this man fixing your blinds. It’s very, very important.”

Emerald leaned forward, tapping Anna’s knee. “I’ve remembered what she said when she got in touch. She said, ‘Have you got the
Evening Standard
?’ She sounded right pissed. Oh yeah, I remember now—that was the first call. It was earlier than what I said because I had to go out to work, but she did ring me again when I wasn’t at home. She left a message with the babysitter, saying again that she wanted to come over and pick up her suitcase. I never heard from her again.”

Anna made a note and underlined the word
suitcase
.

“I remembered that, but I’ll never work out what friggin’ date we had the blinds done.”

“Best to think back . . . how long had you been living here? Was it shortly after you moved in or a few months later?”

Emerald got up and opened a drawer in one of the kitchen cabinets. She rooted around in it, taking out a lot of leaflets from electrical appliances and insurance coverage of washing machines and TV sets. “Well, it wouldn’t be that long after I moved in, ’cause everythin’ was supposed to be finished, right?”

Barolli returned to hover in the kitchen doorway. Emerald sat down, placing all the leaflets on the table; many were still in their envelopes.

“I moved in here April 2005 . . . that’s right, isn’t it? Been here five years now and . . .”

Anna was growing impatient as Emerald sifted through the guarantee forms and then shoved them aside. She returned to another drawer and took out a TV license then sat down again.

“Right: we’d not got a TV in, so this was after. It’s got to be that winter, but dunno which day. All I remember is, I didn’t have a TV then.”

“So when you moved in, the blinds were working. Think about how much time it had been after you said they were faulty and then got them taken away and brought back.”

“Bloody hell, I’m trying. Lemme get another fag.”

Back at the station, the team was buzzing when Anna, using a thick red marker, wrote down the date that Emerald’s blinds were repaired, that Margaret Potts was staying in her flat at the time, close to Christmas 2005, and that after she had left and a good time later, the following summer, Maggie had called her again.

“The date is near enough, and it took a long time working it out, but first Emerald had the kitchen blinds removed in November 2005, and then a different man returned the repaired blinds in early December. She didn’t recall much about him but said he was tall and dark-haired. She was yet again unclear how long it was until some months later, she received a phone call from Maggie Potts in which she mentioned something about the
Evening Standard.
Dorota’s murder was discovered in June 2006, so maybe Maggie had read the story and wanted to talk to Emerald about it.”

Anna gestured at the dead girl’s photograph and then moved on to Maggie Potts’s photographs. “Margaret Potts’s body was discovered in March 2008. This leaves quite a time gap between the phone call and her body being discovered.”

Anna looked over at Barbara, as she’d asked her to check the
Evening Standard
news coverage around the same time. Next she underlined the month when Swell Blinds moved to Manchester.

She turned to the team while replacing the cap on the marker, saying, “We need to get a video ID set up and bring in Emerald and John Smiley, because he is now back in the frame.”

Barbara had brought up the
Evening Standard
newspaper coverage and was scrolling through the lead stories. They all turned their attention toward her as she read that on June 15, 2006, the paper had issued a request for information connected to the body of a young woman found wrapped in a blue blanket.

The buzz was on, and Anna had to settle everyone down as they discussed the latest development. Dorota Pelagia’s body had been discovered four years ago. When Margaret referred to the newspaper article in her call to Emerald, did it mean she knew something about the killer? Did she meet John Smiley at Emerald’s? Had she seen him again at the service station? Was she perhaps in contact with him?

Mike Lewis had sat listening, and he now took over from Anna. “We are presuming a hell of a lot. If this is going to pan out and we can prove that John Smiley did meet Margaret Potts, then why wait so long before she got herself murdered—or, more to the point, why did
he
wait?”

There was a murmur around the incident room, suggestions flying from one person to another. Joan suggested that it was perhaps due to the fact that he had moved from London to Manchester, but she was ignored. Anna eventually quieted everyone.

“If we can prove that John Smiley
did
meet Margaret Potts, it shows he was lying about never seeing her—and why would he do that? Let’s get him back in and see what he has to say.”

Anna was just stepping out of the shower when her phone rang. It was Langton, and he was calling to congratulate her. She thanked him and said that she felt sure Emerald was still lying about the last time she had actually seen Margaret. She thought the lie might be connected to the contents of Maggie’s suitcase, since she was certain there had been money hidden inside, as well as a few pieces of quite valuable jewelry.

“She lied to me when I first interviewed her, because I think Margaret was more of a regular visitor than she likes to admit, but at least we’ve got this new connection, and maybe to John Smiley. If she can identify him, he moves back into prime suspect position . . .”

“We’ve never really had anyone else,” Langton said, yawning.

“But not until now do we have a possible connection to a victim.”

“Right. And yet again Travis uncovers it.” He sounded as if he had been drinking.

“I hope if we do move forward, we’ll have the finances and can keep the full team,” Anna said.

“Don’t tell me how to run the inquiry,” he snapped.

“I’m not, but you know we have a terrific team, and they have been working full-time for weeks.”

“Thank you for that information. Apart from that, how are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

She just wanted to get off the phone, but he continued asking about the new possibilities that might be opening up the case. Finally, he went quiet. Anna was at a loss as to what he expected from her.