nutters from anyone that has legitimate information. It will take days, maybe weeks. So be prepared. I want everyone in the briefing room at two o’clock. We have a profiler, Professor Michael Parks, coming in. The Gold Group has briefed him and he has had access to all our files for three days now, so let’s hope he can give us something to go on. OK, that’s it for tonight. Get some sleep. It’ll be mayhem tomorrow.’
After packing her briefcase, Anna left the room with Jean. On the stairs, she asked the older woman about Langton’s private life.
‘What do you mean?’ scoffed Jean. ‘He doesn’t have one. He’s a workaholic. First in, last to leave. He hasn’t gone home tonight, you know. He’s gone over to the edit suite to look at the CCTV footage. Poor Mike is pissed off: it’s his wife’s birthday. She’s cooking up a storm and she’s pregnant. He won’t get home now until past eleven.’
‘Does Langton have a wife?’ Anna asked.
Jean stared at her. ‘Oh, that kind of private. Well, he’s had a couple of them; lived with a few women. But who or what he’s doing now, none of us know. That he does keep private.’
‘I see,’ Anna said. She stopped, before heading down the stairs to the back exit and car park.
‘Can I give you a lift, Jean?’
‘No, thanks. My old man is waiting for me.’
‘Goodnight, then.’
Anna couldn’t believe it. Her back bumper was dented. The mini now had a scratch down one side, sticky paper on the windscreen and a crumpled back bumper. Her shiny new car, her pride and joy, saved and scrimped for.
Early next morning, Anna pored over the details of victim six, aged thirty-four. A bleached blonde, with a sexy curvaceous figure and a known cocaine habit, Mary Murphy was a prostitute with no police record. Her body, discovered in July 2003, had made her the most recent victim until Melissa Stephens. Mary was found only three days after her murder on Hampstead Heath. She was originally from Preston in Lancashire. No handbag. Her corpse remained unidentified for two weeks.
Mary Murphy was the first case that Langton had headed up. She had a profile different from the others, being middle-class and well-educated. After her divorce five years before, Mary’s twin daughters had gone to live with their father.
Mary probably started to sell herself when her cocaine habit took hold. She worked for an escort agency, though her last known client had been questioned and was no longer a suspect. She had left his suite at the Dorchester Hotel at one o’clock in the morning and had died between one and three hours later. The last sighting of Mary was by the doorman at the Dorchester, who recognized her as she was leaving the hotel. It was presumed Mary went looking for another client. After that last sighting, she had been picked up by the killer.
The file contained the same wretched photographs. The shirt was drawn up to the victim’s neck, her tights wrapped around in the same way. Her hands were tied behind her back with her red lace bra. Though she had been raped and buggered, no DNA was found; as with the other victims, the killer had used protection.
After she had finished reading the file, Anna opened her front door to pick up her newspaper. The case had made the front page: ‘Suspected Serial Killer on the Loose’.
Though DCI Langton had not wanted mass panic, that’s what he’d got. The case was headlined in every newspaper. There were constant references to both Jack the Ripper and ‘his Yorkshire namesake’. One tabloid had two-inch letters screaming ‘Jack is Back’.
On arrival, Anna made her way down the station corridor towards the incident room. As she approached, all she could hear was the non-stop ringing of telephones and the babble of voices growing louder and louder. The incident room now had an extra four phones installed in one long section. The phones on all the desks were ringing and every detective was hard at it. All calls were logged: names, addresses and relevant details were then transferred from the officer to the office manager. When Anna reached her desk, the phone was already ringing. Jean gave her a rueful look.
‘Welcome to Bell City. It’s a quarter to nine and we’ve had a hundred and fifty calls in. So get started.’
Anna took out her notebook and reached for the phone. ‘Queen’s Park incident room. This is DS Travis speaking.’
It was a long and ear-splitting day. Amidst it all, staring at the mayhem with their dark helpless eyes, were the seven victims: Teresa Booth, Sandra Donaldson, Kathleen Keegan, Barbara Whittle, Beryl Villiers, Mary Murphy, and now, Melissa Stephens.
Chapter Four
Thousands of phone calls had poured in, yet little information had resulted. However, forensics had come up with what could prove to be a significant piece of evidence. The tests performed on the DNA swabs, while yielding neither blood nor semen, had identified the type of condom worn by the killer as ‘Lux-Oriente’ which was made in America and easy to pinpoint because of the unique lubricant used by that company. While the indication that their killer had made his purchase in the United States was heartening, the discovery that Lux-Oriente sold millions of condoms every year made the purchaser virtually impossible to trace.
Another breakthrough occurred in the investigation when Rawlins, the murdered girl’s boyfriend, broke down and confessed that their final argument had turned physical. He had followed Melissa and continued to row with her as they walked away from The Bistro. Rawlins remembered that Melissa had carried a small envelope bag, which he had thrown at her. While he couldn’t recall the colour, he remembered it was made of soft dark leather. Between the empty stalls of Covent Garden Market, there was a scuffle which ended when he punched her.
While the imprint on Melissa’s belly could no longer be considered evidence which might lead them to the murderer, some compensation was forthcoming. Rawlins had recalled that Melissa was carrying a black woollen cardigan on the last night he saw her alive. He remembered that they had tugged it between them during the argument, which had occurred when he caught up with her near Floral Street.
After the punch Melissa had angrily declared that she never wanted to see Rawlins again and, furious, he had walked away. When he changed his mind and tried to catch up with her, she had disappeared ? for ever.
Rawlins had become deeply distressed at this point in the interview. He blamed himself for her death. If he had only apologized for his action and taken her home, Melissa would be alive today. Shame had made him keep the quarrel a secret. That was the reason he had not told the full story to the television reconstruction team.
Langton ordered that Rawlins be released. Not only had they lost valuable time, but also the chance that someone might find and recognize either the black cardigan or the bag. However he saw no reason to charge the boy with perverting the course of justice; Mark Rawlins had received his sentence. He would have to live for ever with the knowledge of his culpability in Melissa’s death.
A press release was issued, calling for anyone with information about the girl’s missing purse to come forward. Though discretion had been assured, along with the reassurance that the police were only interested in the location where the purse was found, or snatched, not one caller could help them. The police had to presume that somewhere on Melissa’s journey her bag had been stolen, since on the CCTV footage she carried neither cardigan nor bag.
There was some cold comfort in the fact that Langton had been correct regarding Melissa’s scared run: that somewhere between leaving her boyfriend and her appearance on another security camera, something had happened to frighten her.
The Cuban was brought back three times, but he became more confused on every occasion. Even an interpreter was unable to extract any further information. The section of the car was determined to be a Mercedes, possibly circa 1970, though they were unable to ascertain if it was white or merely pale since the film was in black and white.
The mood of the murder team changed when the profiler arrived. Professor Michael Parks was in his mid- forties, balding and wore horn-rimmed glasses. He stood in front of the team over the course of two hours, displaying a calmness that seemed at variance with what he was saying to them. He advised them to look for a male, mid-thirties, affluent, possibly attractive. Despite these attributes he would be unmarried and in a profession
