never let her go and to die like that: unidentified, left to rot? She didn’t deserve that.’
‘No, she didn’t,’ Anna said.
‘You got a suspect?’ he asked hopefully.
‘Not yet.’
‘I always think if you’ve not got him in the first few weeks, you never will. When it’s white hot, you stand a chance. Body left to rot for weeks, hard to find witnesses, harder to get evidence.’
‘Yes, yes, it is.’
‘If I can be of any further help, you just have to call.’
Anna had turned to walk out, when he called after her.
‘You’ve forgotten your bags.’ He was holding up the three shopping bags from Mrs Kenworth’s boutique.
Embarrassed, Anna took them from him.
‘Got a bit of shopping in as well, did you?’ he teased her.
She had only just made it to the train station in time. When she got home, she hung her new suit and the two new blouses on hangers on the wardrobe door, then stepped back, her head to one side. The sun damage, which made the right shoulder a slightly lighter shade than the left, was hardly noticeable. She closed the wardrobe door, pleased with her purchases and was just getting ready for bed when her phone rang.
‘Hello. It’s Richard.’
‘Richard?’ It had been over six months since they had last been together and that was such a disappointment she had doubted she would bother seeing him again.
‘Richard, hello,’ she said cheerfully. ‘I was only thinking about you the other night. I haven’t heard from you for weeks! How are you?’
‘Terrific. You don’t fancy an early morning game of tennis, do you? Only Phil Butler’s partner’s got flu and I’ve booked the court: the Met’s Athletic Club.’
‘Oh, I don’t know, Richard. I’m on this really big case and you know me, I’m better at squash than tennis.’
‘Aren’t we all? Come on, sweep the cobwebs out. Half six? I can collect you.’
‘No, no. I’ll make my own way there.’
‘Terrific. Let’s meet up at quarter to seven, do a catch-up and then we can all have breakfast after the game.’
Anna replaced the phone. It would do her good to get some exercise. Unlike the bad-tempered Langton of late, who never took any and smoked like a chimney. The more she thought about it, the more she looked forward to it. She set her alarm for half past five.
Next morning, Anna got into her car wearing her tracksuit with her squash shorts and T-shirt on underneath; she put her new suit on the back seat. She would shower and change at the club after the game.
The garage was below the block of flats in which she lived in Maida Vale. It was a new building, quite small, with only six apartments. One of the attractions had been that it was very secure, with a locked garage for the residents’ cars and an access door to the ground floor.
There was a well-lit staircase and a small lift to the top floor, but as her flat was only three floors up Anna rarely used it.
Richard, who was always early for everything, greeted her warmly. He looked different.
‘Have you lost weight?’ she asked.
‘I certainly have. Down by ten pounds and I’ve got another five to go.’
He seemed more attractive than she remembered. Perhaps it was the different haircut. There wasn’t long to catch up before Phil Butler arrived. He was a bald, thin-faced DI attached to the Robbery Squad. He crushed Anna’s fingers as he shook her hand. ‘Glad you could make it. This is a double or quits match. Rich and I have been going at it hell for leather for months. It’s the final today. I need to win and my partner gets flu. I tried to cry off, but there’s a hundred quid on it and you know him.’
‘Yes.’ Anna smiled, thinking she didn’t really, but she wouldn’t mind seeing more of him again. Was it only the haircut? And she reminded herself, on the last night they had been together, he had been on duty after all for the last twenty-four hours.
Richard went off to find his partner, also a police officer. Her name was Pamela Anderson which was a bit unfortunate as she was not blonde, had no visible breasts and looked more like a rake than a babe.
But Ms Anderson was a whizz on the court. She served so hard that Anna took four games before she could make a return. Her partner kept on saying, ‘It’s OK,’ then whenever there was a ball close to the net, he would yell ‘MINE!’ which really irritated her.
They were pretty much evens: one set and four games each. Richard had, time and time again, lobbed some really great shots and Anna kept thinking perhaps she had underestimated him. He’d never played so well. It got to five?four, with Richard and Pamela leading, when Anna got into her stride. Her serve picked up and she started slamming back the spin serve from Ms Anderson. Suddenly it was six?five and time was running out on their court. She dodged Phil twice to make a slam from the nets. Then on a vital shot, the one they needed to win the next set, she had bellowed, ‘Mine, MINE!’ just before missing it.
It should have gone to a tie-break, but there were people waiting for their court. They shook hands. ‘Another time,’ Phil said. A towel around his neck, he opened his wallet and begrudgingly handed over a fifty-pound note to Richard. Though he did not say it, she knew Phil blamed her for the outcome. She was astonished when Richard laughed and refused to take the money. ‘We’ll play again when Tara’s fit.’
She noticed how fast the fifty-pound note went back into Phil’s pocket.
Ms Anderson was nowhere to be seen in the women’s changing room. Anna applied her make-up, wondering if another date with Richard might improve his performance. His tennis had certainly improved. She made her way to the canteen. It was almost eight o’clock, just time for a quick breakfast before she had to leave for work.
The boys had ordered bacon sandwiches and coffee for the table. Richard got up to draw Anna’s chair out for her and she sat down, impressed. He was improving every minute. She noticed he did the same for Pamela, who had now changed into her uniform.
Phil said between mouthfuls, ‘I hear you’re working with Langton.’
‘Yes, I’m with the murder team now.’
‘I worked alongside him once. That was enough.’ He pulled a rasher of bacon from his sandwich and took a bite. ‘Mind you, that was a good few years ago.’
‘Didn’t get along?’ Anna asked innocently, disliking Phil even more.
‘He could be a nasty sod at times. You ever played tennis with him?’
Anna gave him a surprised look. She could not have imagined Langton playing anything, except perhaps the odd hand of poker.
‘Got a sliced serve,’ Phil slurped his coffee, ‘that’s a bitch to get back.’
Then he stood up, announcing that breakfast was on him. He gave a brief smile to Anna and mentioned to Richard that he would book another court.
There was an uneasy silence after he’d left. Pamela nibbled at her sandwich, while Richard said confidentially to Anna, ‘So, how is it working out? Word is, not too good.’
‘We just got some big leads,’ Anna protested.
Pamela laughed. ‘I know your commander’s DCI. And she’s not a happy bunny.’
‘Oh, really? Well, perhaps she hasn’t had the update. When you’re dealing with seven murders, some as far back as?’
‘I know James Langton too.’ Pamela dabbed her lips.
‘He used to be part of the Met’s athletic team, bicycle racing. I often saw him at the athletic track in Maida Vale.’
‘Langton on a bicycle?’ Anna asked, surprised.
‘That was a while back, of course, when he was married to Debra Hayden. Did you know her?’
‘No.’
‘She was amazing. She used to race with him — “the Demon Duo”, they were called. It was all very sad.’
‘You mean the divorce?’ Anna was fascinated.
