The Red Dahlia (29 page)

Langton nodded and then changed the subject, asking if her passport was up to date. She said it was.

‘Good: we go to Milan tomorrow.’

Anna grinned; she had not thought she would stand a chance of being selected.

‘I want a woman with me when I interview the ex-wife; sometimes old Lewis is like a block of wood.’

She smiled and said Barolli was a bit on the wooden side as well. Langton laughed. She had not heard him laugh for a long time. His lovely warm chuckle altered his whole being, making him boyish.

‘We’ll just stay overnight, back next afternoon, so get off and arrange it,’ he said.

‘Will do.’ She was about to open the door to leave when Langton took a call and he signalled for her to wait.

‘Listen, Mike, I don’t give a fuck, I want his phone tapped. What? Put her through then! Yes! Christ.’

Anna waited as he listened and then spoke quietly into the phone. ‘Commander, thank you for getting back so promptly. I cannot express too strongly how much we really need this man monitored. As you know, Professor Marshe…’ He winked at Anna. ‘Yes, yes she did, and it really is more or less on her advice.’

He grinned at Anna as he smoothtalked the Commander, his eyes raised to heaven. ‘Thank you, and again I appreciate you getting back to me, thank you.’

He hung up and shook his head. ‘Wanker. Anyway, we’ve got the go-ahead for the phone tap. They all pussyfoot around but she’s a decent girl, just has to go by the rule book. She’s also given us some extra officers to back us up.’

Dominique Wickenham had agreed to meet with them on the Saturday, the morning after their flight. On Langton’s instructions, they had booked into the Hyatt Hilton hotel. There were a few raised eyebrows, as it was a very luxurious and expensive hotel. The fact that he was travelling with Anna had also created quite an undercurrent. Barolli and Lewis had both expected to be with Langton. Together they had a quiet moan, though neither spoke up or queried it in front of the team, as Langton wanted them at base to monitor the phone taps and report to him if anything came in.

DAY TWENTY-FIVE

Langton was wearing a suit and freshly ironed shirt. They had both been driven from the station to the airport. Langton had only a small folding carrier and his briefcase. He had glanced at Anna’s pull-along suitcase with some amusement.

‘It’s almost empty,’ she said.

‘You won’t have much time to shop if that is your intention, Travis. We meet the ex-wife at ten tomorrow morning and get the next flight back to London in the afternoon.’

Anna made no reply; she had hoped for a half-hour blitz on the shops. She hoped that she could at least have a quick whiz round the duty-free.

They had cut the time short, so no sooner had they checked in and gone through security and passport control, than Langton insisted they go straight to their gate to wait for boarding. They were sitting together, his head buried in the early edition of the Evening Standard, when she saw Professor Marshe heading towards them. Anna was astonished. She had not really allowed herself to think that the time alone with Langton meant so much. It did, and she suddenly felt foolish; he must have arranged for the Professor to join them.

‘James!’ The Professor was wearing another of her chic little suits and high-heeled shoes, her hair once more in a chignon.

Langton looked up and folded his paper. ‘Good God, what are you doing here?’

Anna pursed her lips, irritated; the act was all rather unnecessary.

Professor Marshe sat next to Langton. ‘Are you going to Milan?’

‘Yes, we are, are you?’

‘Yes, I’ve got a lecture and talks with a publisher there to bring out my latest book in Italian.’ She gave a cool nod to Anna.

‘Well, what a coincidence,’ Langton said.

Anna clenched her hands. He was a dreadful actor. She felt like the proverbial spare part as he made conversation about her book. Professor Marshe asked what seat numbers they were in; he looked at Anna to check their tickets.

‘Maybe we can switch so I can sit next to you?’

‘Fine, yes; we’re going to meet up with Wickenham’s ex-wife.’

‘Where are you staying?’

‘The Hyatt Hilton.’

She laughed, showing her even white teeth.

‘As if she didn’t know,’ Anna thought. No wonder Langton hadn’t wanted Lewis or Barolli with him; she felt like the perfect stooge.

They boarded the plane. Langton was all over Professor Marshe, lifting her bag into the locker, checking her safety belt, even folding her spiffy little jacket so as not to crease it. Anna sat almost at the very back of the plane, next to a very large, sweating man whose many magazines and newspapers spilled out onto the floor. Langton and Professor Marshe were in the second row, just behind the curtain separating the economy and business class seats.

Arriving at Milan airport, Anna passed through customs way behind Langton and Professor Marshe. They seemed to be in deep conversation; he was constantly bending down to listen to her, guiding her with one hand at the small of her back. There was a familiarity about them that Anna found upsetting, though she had no right to feel that way. It seemed that the Professor was a regular visitor to Milan, and in the taxi they discussed which restaurant they should dine at that evening. She was staying at the Four Seasons hotel, so they dropped her off before they went on to the Hyatt. Langton waved goodbye as the valet took her bag and waited for her to go into the hotel.

As they drove away, Langton gave a sidelong glance to Anna. ‘I don’t want this spread around the Incident Room, Travis.’

‘What exactly?’

‘That she’s here; they won’t believe it’s coincidental and they’ll put two and two together and come up with Christ knows what, so let’s just keep this between ourselves, okay?’

‘Whatever,’ she said, petulantly.

‘I wouldn’t be surprised if the Commander tipped her off, you know, that we were coming here. She even wants to talk to the ex-wife.’

‘Will you allow her to do that?’

‘I dunno, maybe. I was quite impressed with her yesterday.’

Before they could continue, Langton’s mobile rang and he spent the rest of the journey to the hotel listening as Lewis reported the phone tap results. He hardly said a word until he cut off the call.

‘Well, our suspect isn’t making any calls, but his daughters have phoned each other and talked about their interviews. It seems the skinny one…’

‘Emily,’ Anna interjected.

‘Yeah, she’s in therapy.’

‘I’m not surprised, she was very nervous, but she’s also very bright.’

‘She kept on asking Justine if she knew what we knew, and if so, who had told us; what do you make of that?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe their mother will enlighten us; didn’t you say Justine was staying with her when we found Louise Pennel’s body?’

‘Yeah.’ Langton looked out of the car as they arrived at the hotel. ‘Do you want to have dinner this evening?’ he asked, as the porter opened their car door.

‘No thanks; best get an early night.’

Anna waited for her case to be removed from the boot before she followed Langton inside. He was standing at the reception desk, checking them both in; it gave Anna a moment to take in the vast foyer of the luxurious hotel. She had never stayed in one as elegant or as costly, and she was impressed at the way Langton appeared to be very much at ease. He dangled her key and told her that she was on the seventh floor. There was a sauna, health spa and swimming pool, if she felt like some exercise.

‘I didn’t bring my costume.’

‘There’s a boutique in that corner: you can buy yourself one.’

‘I am not really in the swimming mood.’

‘So you don’t want to eat?’

‘No, I’ll get some room service sent up.’

‘Fine, well, I’m in room 307; if you need me, just call down. Let’s have breakfast in the morning.’

They stood side by side as the elevator glided up to the third floor. As the doors opened, Langton was checking his text messages.

‘Goodnight, Travis.’

‘Goodnight.’ The doors closed and she continued up to the seventh floor. The porter was waiting at the door of her room, and gestured for her to go in ahead of him. It was large and very spacious with a double bed and a small balcony. She gave him a tip; as soon as the door closed behind him, she flopped onto the bed. Somewhere in her mind she had been scripting a scenario of her and Langton together, trying to work out how she would react to him making a pass at her. Now she realised he had not the slightest intention of doing so; she felt foolish and angry with herself that she could have so misjudged him.

Langton left the hotel and walked to the Four Seasons where Professor Marshe waited in a pale blue chiffon cocktail dress, carrying a small silver handbag that matched her sandals, looking cool and sophisticated. ‘Not brought little Travis with you?’

‘No, she’s getting an early night.’

‘Do we eat here or would you like to go somewhere else?’

They took a taxi to Bebel’s on the Via San Marco.

Remote in hand, Anna switched the TV from channel to channel. She decided she’d watch Titanic as she hadn’t seen it the first time round. She had eaten her dinner and drunk half a bottle of wine from the mini bar; wrapped in her towelling robe, she propped up the pillows and settled back on her bed. After only fifteen minutes, she fell asleep. She woke with a start, just as the Titanic was sinking; the room phone was ringing and so was her mobile.

Anna scrambled off the bed, delved in her bag for her mobile and at the same time tried to reach for the phone on the bedside table. She did a perfect pratfall as her mobile cut out and the room phone fell silent. She swore, picking herself up, and checked caller ID on her mobile. She tried to call back, but it would not connect. She was about to call down to the front desk when the phone rang again.

‘Travis?’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s Mike Lewis. I’ve been trying to contact the Gov, his mobile must be turned off and he’s not in his room.’

‘He may have gone out.’

‘Well that’s bloody obvious! Can you contact him?’

‘I don’t know where he’s gone; is it important?’

‘It might be. I know you are meeting up with Wickenham’s ex-wife in the morning, so I wanted to run this by him.’

‘You want to run whatever it is by me and I’ll pass it on?’

‘It was a call from Justine Wickenham to her sister.’

‘Let me get my notebook.’ She put the receiver on the bedside table and went to her briefcase.

‘Ready when you are,’ she said, pencil poised.

Lewis coughed and asked if he should play the call or just give her the nitty-gritty.

‘Mike, just tell me what you’ve got.’

‘Okay. They first talked about whether or not they had contacted their mother to tell her they had been interviewed; neither had. Justine kept on asking if Emily was okay, and then asked if she had told them anything; by them, I reckon she means us. Then Justine asked if they knew about what had happened. Emily said she didn’t say anything and got quite upset and Justine tried to calm her down; she said, and I quote, no charges ever happened, so they wouldn’t be likely to know, but if they were to ask her anything about it she should refuse to tell them because it would all blow up again!

Anna jotted down the conversation in shorthand in her notebook.

‘You still listening?’

‘Yes yes, go on.’

‘So this is what made me want to tell the Gov: Emily became very distressed and Justine kept on trying to calm her down, but she got really uptight. She said that she wished she had gone through with it and made him pay for what he had done to her, but it was family pressure that had persuaded her.’

‘Just slow down a second. Okay, then what?’

‘The next part was inaudible as she was crying: she said that it was all right for Justine, because it hadn’t happened to her. Justine then said that she had tried to protect her because it had: he had constantly tried to do it to her.’

‘Do it?’ Anna asked.

‘Yes, that’s what she said. Emily, in a real state, then said that even if he had done it with you, it was her that had to have the abortion, not Justine; she then went on to say how much she hated him!

‘Him meant who?’ Anna injected.

‘Well, we take it to be her father that molested her, or performed an abortion on his own daughter. It could have been her brother that had sex with her, but as the father is a surgeon, I’d say he would have done the abortion.’

Anna wrote it all down; Lewis said they had cut the call short as Justine said someone had arrived at her flat.

‘Okay I’ll relay this to the Gov; thanks for calling.’

Anna put the phone down and studied her notes, then put in a call to Langton’s room but was rerouted to the hotel’s answer service. She tried his mobile, but it was dead. She then called Professor Marshe at the Four Seasons and left a message for Langton to call her urgently. It was by now eleven-thirty; she presumed, correctly, that he was still at dinner.

Anna pottered around her suite for another three-quarters of an hour and then went to bed. She almost hurtled off the bed in shock when her door was rapped. She hurried to open it.

‘What’s so urgent?’ he asked, leaning against the door frame. She could tell by looking at him he had had quite a bit to drink.

‘Lewis was trying to contact you, but your mobile was turned off.’

Langton swore and fished in his pocket, muttering that he’d turned it off when he went to dinner. He sat on her bed as he checked his text messages, frowning.

‘What did he want?’

‘They recorded a phone call between Justine and Emily Wickenham that they thought you should know about before we interview his ex-wife.’

‘What’s so important?’

Langton flopped back on her bed as Anna repeated what Lewis had told her. ‘The girls might have put two and two together and come up with a lot more. I mean, they did not at any time mention that it was her father or who had done the abortion.’

Langton yawned, staring at the ceiling, then leaned up on one elbow. ‘Tomorrow, before we leave, get back to them; if charges were started, even if they were withdrawn, someone somewhere has to have a record of them.’