Blood Line
Authors: Lynda La Plante
Also by Lynda La Plante
Blind Fury
Silent Scream
Deadly Intent
Clean Cut
The Red Dahlia
Above Suspicion
The Legacy
The Talisman
Bella Mafia
Entwined
Cold Shoulder
Cold Blood
Cold Heart
Sleeping Cruelty
Royal Flush
Prime Suspect
Seekers
She’s Out
The Governor
The Governor II
Trial and Retribution
Trial and Retribution II
Trial and Retribution III
Trial and Retribution IV
Trial and Retribution V
First published in Great Britain by Simon & Schuster UK Ltd, 2011
A CBS COMPANY
Copyright © Lynda La Plante, 2011
This book is copyright under the Berne Convention.
No reproduction without permission.
® and © 1997 Simon & Schuster Inc.
All rights reserved.
The right of Lynda La Plante to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
Simon & Schuster UK Ltd
1st Floor
222 Gray’s Inn Road
London WC1X 8HB
Simon & Schuster Australia
Sydney
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available
from the British Library
Hardback ISBN: 978-0-85720-180-5
Trade Paperback ISBN: 978-0-85720-181-2
eBook ISBN: 978-0-85720-182-9
This book is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Typeset in Bembo by M Rules
Printed in the UK by CPI Mackays, Chatham ME5 8TD
I would like to dedicate this book
to Cass and Anne Sutherland
Special thanks and gratitude go to my hard working team at La Plante Productions for their committed and valuable support while I worked on
Blood Line
: Liz Thorburn, Richard Dobbs-Grove, Noel Farragher, Sara Johnson and especially Cass Sutherland.
Many thanks also to Nicole Muldowney, Stephen Ross and Andrew Bennet-Smith, along with the ever-supportive Duncan Heath and Sue Rodgers.
I would also like to say how much I appreciate the wonderful stars of the Above Suspicion series: Cirián Hinds and Kelly Reilly.
Special thanks to my literary agent, Gill Coleridge, and all at Rogers, Coleridge & White for their constant encouragement.
The publication of this book would not have been possible without the hard work and support of Susan Opie and the team at Simon & Schuster: Ian Chapman, Suzanne Baboneau, Nigel Stoneman, Jessica Leeke and Rob Cox; I am very happy to be working with such a terrific and creative group of people.
T
he first blow to his head made his body lurch sideways, striking his face against the bedside cabinet. The pain was excruciating. As he tried to fend off his attacker, the punch to his ribs forced him back against the pillow. He couldn’t even cry out – the gag made sure of that. Over and over again the punches slammed into his body, but now it wasn’t a fist that hit him, it was a club hammer, and he could feel the bones in his face splinter. Blood seeped into his eyes and streamed from his nose as yet again the hammer struck, this time with such force that his head lolled over the side of the bed. Incapable of moving or seeing, he could feel the sheet being dragged over him and around his inert body, like a shroud. His attacker was using the blood-sodden sheet to slide him from the bed onto the floor. Moments later he realised he was being dragged out of the bedroom.
As he was dumped into the bath, the taps struck him and part of the sheet covering his face fell back, but still he was incapable of making a sound. Even when the water began to run over him he could do nothing to help himself. A terrible darkness swamped him as he sank into unconsciousness. Blood clotted his nostrils, and his mouth was swollen from the beating, which had broken his front teeth and forced them into his lip, and yet he was still alive as his body was rolled over and the sheet drawn away from him. The blood mixed with the running water, swirling down the plughole beneath his broken face.
Sometime later he felt something being poured over him, and hands patting and rubbing at his limbs. For a brief moment his mind woke as if there was a glimmer of a chance he would survive. This hope gave him the strength to try and move his limbs; he thrashed and kicked, but his attempts were thwarted as he felt hands squeezing at his throat. Then his head was wrapped so tightly that he could no longer breathe and there was no hope.
T
he small dapper man in the navy pin-striped suit had been waiting in the Hounslow police station reception for over an hour. He had not complained, but sat patiently reading his newspaper. When Anna Travis eventually walked into the room he folded the paper.
‘DCI Travis?’
‘Yes – and you are?’
‘Edward Rawlins.’
Anna sat opposite him and apologised for keeping him waiting. The truth was she’d been so busy wrapping up an investigation for a forthcoming trial that she’d quite forgotten he was there.
‘That’s perfectly all right, and understandable as I did not have an appointment. Thank you for agreeing to see me.’
There was a pause. In many ways she was unused to such cordiality, but at the same time impatient to know why he had specifically asked for her.
‘I work at the Old Bailey, I am an usher,’ Mr Rawlins said quietly.
‘Why do you want to see me?’
‘I have watched you in court many times and you have always impressed me.’
‘Well, thank you very much, Mr Rawlins, but could you tell me why you wanted to speak with me?’
‘Yes. I think my son has been murdered.’
Anna opened her briefcase and took out a notebook. She demonstrated little reaction to his statement.
‘Have you reported this elsewhere?’
‘No.’
‘Can you give me a few details? Firstly, what is your son’s name?’
‘Alan. He’s twenty-six years old and lives with his girlfriend in a flat not too far from here.’
‘The address?’
‘Newton Court in Hedges Street. He occupied a ground-floor flat, it’s number two.’
‘When you say “occupied”, do you mean he’s no longer living there?’
‘He’s supposed to be. I believe all his belongings are still there, but I haven’t been to the flat. I’ve just telephoned there many times.’
‘His girlfriend’s name?’
‘Tina Brooks.’
‘You said you believed your son has been murdered?’
‘Yes. We speak at least twice a week and I haven’t heard from him for nearly two weeks now.’
‘This is unusual?’
‘Very.’
‘You haven’t reported him missing?’
‘No.’
‘Well, Mr Rawlins, that is the first thing you should do. As he is over eighteen and until we have more details, specifically if you think a crime has been committed, then you should make a Missing Persons report.’
‘Whatever you think is necessary, but Alan is a very studious and caring young man. He has always kept in touch with me.’
‘Have you spoken to his girlfriend?’
‘Yes, numerous times. She in actual fact called
me
, asking if I had seen him as she was worried because he hadn’t come home.’
‘Did she give you any possible reason for Alan’s disappearance?’
‘No, just that it was unlike him.’
‘Do you know if he has withdrawn any money from his bank account recently?’
‘His bank said they’re not allowed to tell me. I asked Miss Brooks if his passport was at the flat and she said that it was. Then later she told the police it wasn’t there.’
‘The last time you saw him or spoke to him, did he seem concerned about anything?’
‘No. He said we should go and see a film one Sunday and that he’d check what was on and call the following week. He never did.’
‘What work does he do?’
‘He’s a mechanic. He works for an auto-repair shop. I rang them, and they were surprised that they had not seen him. They too had called his flat to find out where he was, so it’s been of some concern to them also.’
‘Why do you think that something as bad as murder has happened?’
‘Because this is totally out of character.’
Anna stood up. ‘I can get a local officer from the Missing Persons Unit to take a report and investigate the disappearance, but they would have to make the decision as to whether it was suspicious or not.’
‘But it’s been almost two weeks already!’
‘That may be so, but your son is over eighteen and in many cases we discover that nothing untoward has happened. He may have decided to just take off for personal reasons.’
‘It doesn’t make sense, it’s not like him to . . .’
‘It has happened before. Did he have a good relationship with Miss Brooks?’
‘Yes, they were going to be married. Well, that’s what he told me, but that was six or seven months ago. He hasn’t mentioned it to me or my wife since.’ Mr Rawlins hesitated. ‘That is the other reason I am deeply concerned. You see, my wife is suffering from Alzheimer’s and Alan always found the time to talk to her. She is at home with a carer and he would make conversation with her several times a month, even though she has reached a stage where she doesn’t really recall who he is or who I am, for that matter.’
Anna felt sorry for the dapper little man as he gave a sad small shrug of his shoulders.
‘I’ll push this through for you, Mr Rawlins, but as I said it will have to go through the correct channels as I am attached to the Murder Squad and not the Missing Persons Unit. It’s they who will need to have all these details.’
‘But I know something bad has happened. He wouldn’t behave this way – he’s a wonderful son.’
Smiling in reassurance, Anna extricated herself from the interview. She did as she promised, arranging for an officer from the local Missing Persons Unit to take a detailed report from Mr Rawlins, but then she became completely consumed by her preparation for the forthcoming trial. Mr Rawlins was not exactly forgotten, just filed away as he had no direct connection to her department.
Three weeks later, Anna saw Mr Rawlins again. It was at the Old Bailey, and he was ushering a prosecution witness into the court. She was about to skirt past him, not wishing to get into a conversation, when he hurried over to her.
‘Alan is still missing – my son. You recall me talking to you about my son? I reported him missing as you instructed.’
‘Yes, of course I remember, Mr Rawlins, but I have not been contacted by Mispers so I assume the case-file has not been raised to a high-risk category. I’m sorry, but unless I am officially tasked to investigate your son’s disappearance as suspicious, there is nothing more I can do.’
Anna then headed into the court and Mr Rawlins turned away. She saw him a number of times during the remainder of the trial, but tried to avoid him as much as possible. Although she felt compassion for the little man, the reality was that she would be allocated her next murder enquiry and couldn’t choose it herself.
As her trial veered towards a conclusion, Anna saw Detective Chief Superintendent James Langton coming up for a case in another court. He smiled warmly at her and she joined him.