Authors: Lynda La Plante
‘Four – he said I should return to anyone close, particularly the ex-boyfriend. Next day I brought him in again and after two hours of interrogation he gave it up. He admitted to the murder. He said she had kicked him out. By this time he had grown to love her little girl and wanted to marry her, but she had rejected him.’
Langton drained his glass. He then stared hard at Anna, wiping his lips with his napkin and tossing it down.
‘You want to know why I am telling you all this?’
She nodded, pushing her food aside.
‘Anna, you are bringing in how many fucking links and suspects? You’ve got a board that looks like the train timetable at Euston station, with links and arrows and possible connections. You’ve got homosexual contacts from magazines; you’ve got a whole slew of suspects connected to drugs in Cornwall. You keep opening up avenues of probable suspicions when what you have is a bloodbath at that flat Alan Rawlins lived in. You’ve got no body, you’ve got evidence that another male slept in that same bed where you believe the murder took place, a victim you have yet to even bloody identify.’
‘I am aware of that,’ she said stiffly.
‘You can’t keep chasing all these probable connections. You have to get to grips with this Tina Brooks woman. She’s lived with him, but she only admitted he was missing after his father reported it. She could have disposed of the body with help maybe, so I’ll give you that, but the whole reason I am talking to you is because I think you have started to open up a can of worms that may wriggle and look suspicious, but you haven’t hit close to home. It doesn’t matter if Alan Rawlins led a double life, that he was homosexual with a nasty streak to him. The basic facts are that someone was brutally murdered in that flat. Tina has to be your prime suspect and all this surfing stuff, this drug dealer Sammy Marsh, is making the enquiry look like a trainwreck.’
‘I don’t know if it was Alan Rawlins who was murdered in that flat.’
‘But
she
must bloody know what went on – she lived there! I don’t want to make you lose confidence, but what I do want you to do is put the pressure on Tina Brooks. Going off to Cornwall is
not
going to bring in a result, Anna. So what if Alan surfed with a gay troupe of guys? So what if he led this other life? The basic facts are it is very probable he was murdered inside his own flat, his body dismembered and then dumped. The answer is close to home, Anna, believe me. I want you to think like your dad, think how he guided me, because right now I am sorry to say it, but you have let this case run right off the rails.’
She had to cough to clear her throat. It felt terribly constricted.
‘How long have I got?’
He sighed, rubbing his face tiredly.
‘Listen, I am not about to pull the enquiry. All I’m asking you to do is to focus on the basic facts. Remember, I am telling you this because I did the exact same thing and it was Jack, your father, who pointed me in the right direction.’
Anna sipped her wine. He went to top up her glass again, but she shook her head.
‘No, thank you.’ She chose her next words very carefully. ‘I would like to discuss this with you tomorrow.’
‘Why not now?’
‘Because I need to digest everything you’ve said to me, then I’d like to talk it over with you.’
She got up and he gestured to the ladies cloakroom, thinking she wished to use it, but she picked up her bag.
‘I’m leaving now. If it’s preferable I will come to your office, or shall we say nine o’clock here at the station?’
‘I’ll come to you.’
‘Thank you, and thank you for dinner.’
Langton watched her walking out, unsure if he should go after her or not. Her expression had been unreadable even for him. He didn’t think he had been too hard on her, on the contrary. He would, if it had been anyone else, have expressed his concerns over the way the case was being handled in front of the entire team. He would also have replaced her with another DCI. Maybe she should learn the hard way. Instead he had taken her out for dinner and tried to be as diplomatic as possible. He truthfully felt her murder enquiry was a mess of over-investigation, wasting valuable time.
He signalled for the waiter to remove their plates and then ordered a double brandy, deciding that in the morning he would call a briefing. Anna must by now be aware of his misgivings and realise that it could not continue.
‘Was there something wrong with the sea-food pasta, sir?’ the waiter asked.
Langton shook his head as his brandy was placed in front of him.
‘No. She just wasn’t hungry.’
Anna went straight back to her office and spent a long time on her computer looking over the file of the old case that Langton had referred to. Eventually she’d had enough and left for home. She had fought to keep control of her emotions, refusing to allow Langton to see how deeply his criticism had affected her. But by the time she’d returned to her flat and was getting into bed, the flood-gates opened; she couldn’t stop crying. She felt that by using her father as part of his review of her work, Langton had betrayed her.
Sleep didn’t come easily as she finally calmed down enough to digest everything Langton had spoken about. Intuitively she knew that the meeting with him in the morning would be make or break time, but somehow the old fighting instincts she used to have lay dormant. She had never felt so alone and so lacking in self-confidence.
A
nna was up and blowdrying her hair at six. She chose her wardrobe carefully, not that she ever had much choice as the row of similar black suits and white shirts were like her own uniform. But this morning she dressed in her most expensive ones and wore high heels. She even put more make-up on than usual, and whether or not it was for Langton’s appraisal, it made her feel better.
She left early for the station, wanting to have an overall grasp of the case, and once there, took all the files into her office and sat behind her desk, checking and cross-referencing all the data. Instead of her confidence being severely damaged, she now felt the reverse. She rang through to the incident room to say that she wanted to be informed as soon as Detective Chief Superintendent Langton made an appearance, and for coffee to be brought into her office.
Paul tapped on her door and she waited a moment before telling him he could come in.
‘Yes?’ she said briskly.
‘The report from the Tech Support team has arrived.’
‘Good or bad news?’ she asked.
‘I’ve not had time to read it. It’s quite dense and I’ve a copy here for you.’
She put out her hand. ‘Thank you.’
He hovered and then asked if everything was all right. She glanced up as she began to read the report.
‘Everything is fine, Paul. Why do you ask?’
‘Well, I’ve heard that Langton’s coming in. Brian Stanley seems to think something is up.’
‘It is. We are going over budget. Have we had any feedback from checking out the hotels and estate agents in Cornwall?’
‘Not as yet. We’re onto that this morning.’
‘Good. That’s it – you can go.’
Paul closed the door and returned to the incident room. Something was up and the entire team could feel it. Anna’s manner that morning had been brittle and they had all noticed how much of an effort she had made with her appearance. Not that she ever looked scruffy or even untidy, but of late she had worn her hair snatched back in a band and no make-up. Now she looked ‘glossy’ as Helen had described her – as if she was getting ready to do battle.
Brian did his irritating hand up in the air gesture, with his index finger pointing to the ceiling.
‘We got a hit. There’s a property owned by a Daniel Matthews in Newquay. He’s the woofter friend of Alan Rawlins – right?’
Paul and Helen went to his desk.
‘I was onto the estate agents. This property was on the books of Kimberley’s, May Whetter and Grose, and also with a company called Lillicrap Chilcott. They’re independent estate agents and they specialise in the sale of houses with a sea view. They’ve got agents in St Austell and Fowey, and it was a subsidiary agent who arranged the sale eight months ago – cash deal. It sold for four hundred and fifty grand. Place was unbelievably cheap for the location as it was a bit run down and needed a lot of work done on it. The buyer forked out an extra fifty-thousand cash for the agent to get the work done ASAP. With the renovation now complete it’s worth nearly seven hundred thousand.
Paul looked at Anna’s closed office blinds as he returned to his desk to place a call to Daniel Matthews, the graphic artist they had interviewed very early in the enquiry.
‘He must have bloody known about the place and been lying through his teeth,’ Paul muttered.
But Daniel Matthews denied any knowledge of a property in Cornwall and said that there had to be some mistake. He also denied ever being there or ever having any discussion with Alan Rawlins regarding ownership. Paul looked over to Brian.
‘You got a phone number for this place?’
‘Yep. You want me to ring? The agents said someone was living there.’
‘Maybe talk it over with the Gov – see what she thinks. Don’t want to tip him off.’
Anna was concentrating on the Tech Support report on the hard drive from Alan Rawlins’s computer. Paul tapped, but didn’t wait for her to answer. He barged in, saying, ‘We’ve traced a property sold for cash to someone calling himself Daniel Matthews – the friend of Alan Rawlins whom we interviewed.’
‘“Calling himself” – what do you mean?’
‘I’ve just talked to him and he denies any knowledge of owning it or ever even going to Cornwall. Brian’s checked and there is someone living there. Do we contact them or not?’
‘No. Make no contact. Not until I give the word. And Paul, could you not just barge into my office.’
‘I’m sorry, it’s just good news and I wanted to tell you.’
‘Enthusiasm is terrific, Paul, but in future wait. All right, how much was the property sold for?’
‘Four hundred and fifty grand cash, plus an extra fifty K for renovation work.’
‘Lot of money. Will you now concentrate on the Tech Support information? I want everyone up to speed on it for a briefing later this morning. Also, wait a minute.’
Anna reached for a file and thumbed through it.
‘It’s a report made by Helen. This was to do with me wanting to get the dates when Tina Brooks went on the hairdressing competition forays.’ Anna skimmed down the page and looked up. ‘Okay, this is it. She spoke to Donna because she said Tina had gone out to make a call. Did she mean out of the salon? We’ve so far not been able to make any connection between Tina and anyone else she could be involved with, which for me would be the neighbour Michael Phillips. Can you ask her to re-check with Donna exactly what she meant?’
‘Yep. Anything else?’
‘No, thank you.’
Paul immediately went to talk to Helen. She had not given it much thought and shrugged, saying that Donna probably meant that Tina had simply gone out of the salon, but she would double-check.
Helen then nodded over to Anna’s office. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Bloody hell!’ Brian Stanley blurted out. ‘Any of you up to speed on what the Tech Support got off Alan Rawlins’s hard drive? Fifty-eight homosexual contact websites, and I’m only on page three . . . The guy was into some sex toys, I can tell you. Have you read it yet, Paul?’
Paul glanced in Brian’s direction and returned to his desk.
‘Not as yet,’ he replied coolly, ‘and the Gov says no contact is to be made with the property in Cornwall. She wants to keep the element of surprise, so maybe you should get back onto the estate agents to ask them not to make any approach to whoever is living there.’
‘Does she think it could be Alan Rawlins?’
‘I dunno. But I think we are up for a trip to Cornwall.’
Unseen by any one of them, Langton was standing in the entrance to the incident room listening to their conversation. As he approached the team, Helen quickly put in a call to Anna and then asked if Langton wanted a coffee as DCI Travis was expecting him.
‘Yes, and a bacon toasted sandwich, no tomatoes.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Helen hurried out as Langton made his way to Anna’s office. She was ready and waiting standing beside her desk. He didn’t knock, but walked straight in.
‘Good morning,’ she said brightly.
‘Morning. Your team reckon it’s seaside-time. I overheard that you still want to go to Cornwall.’
‘I think it might be necessary.’ Anna went and sat behind her desk.
‘So you’ve not discussed with them what we talked about last night?’
‘Not yet, no. I wanted to talk to you first.’
He sat down in front of her desk and gave an open-handed gesture. ‘I’m ready when you are.’
‘Let’s just wait for coffee to be brought in so we won’t get disturbed. It’s been quite a busy morning already as we received the tech report from the hard drive off Alan Rawlins’s computer. Makes very interesting reading.’
‘Don’t tell me it throws up yet more suspects to be interviewed?’
‘I think his father attempted to delete a lot of the files, but they were able to retrieve them.’
Helen tapped and carried in a tray of coffee and the toasted sandwich, which she placed on the table between Langton and Anna.
‘Did you call the hair salon?’ Anna asked.
‘I did, but Donna isn’t in until eleven.’
Helen left as Anna passed over his toasted sandwich.
‘Not had breakfast?’ she asked.
‘Nope. What about you?’ He took a bite and cocked his head to one side. ‘You look very pretty. You’ve done something to your hair.’
‘Washed it.’ She picked up her coffee and sipped.
Langton said nothing as he finished his sandwich, eating at his usual rate of knots.
‘About last night,’ Anna said tentatively.
‘Yes?’
‘I do not agree with you regarding the way I have been handling this investigation. For one, you brought up the case my father advised you on because you had tunnel vision and followed the wrong line of enquiry. He told you to focus the investigation and interview all known previous contacts of your victim; the culprit, in his estimation, was close to home and probably her ex-boyfriend. Which proved to be correct.’