Langton’s jaw was working overtime. ‘He never saw his face.’
‘OK, get the gravel-voiced tart in. She said he was blond. She saw part of him.’
‘She said she only saw him from the side and he was wearing shades.’ Lewis sat down, sighing.
Langton looked around the room, his eyes shifting from one to the other. ‘You all have the same feelings?’
Everyone looked uncomfortable under his individual scrutiny, until he got to Anna. He raised his eyebrows. She hesitated; Langton was just about to pass over her, when Anna raised her hand. ‘I think we should stay on trying to discover if the women all knew each other.’
‘Thank you,’ Langton said and shoved his hands into his pockets. ‘I don’t know if Daniels is our man either, but I do not believe we are looking for a random client of these girls as Mike suggested, or one of their pimps. These murders do have a link: the girls knew each other. That should lead us to anyone they had in common.’
He paused. ‘If that person was Alan Daniels, that makes him a suspect. If the same man killed Melissa Stephens, it could mean that the killing cycle that had him murdering prostitutes may be complete, but he can’t stop. What may have started out as a series of revenge killings could have gone into override. He could be enjoying the act of murder too much to stop. In which case, I do not think he will stop.’
Everyone in the room was hanging on his words. You could have heard a pin drop.
‘Whilst you have been schlepping around the country, I have been working on the dates.’
Langton gestured for Jean to draw up the big diagram board. ‘These are the time gaps that have been blocked out.’
Jean turned over the first sheet of thick white paper.
‘I have not included the murder of Lilian Duffy, only the other women, because of their time frame. There are big gaps between the murders, as Mike was saying. Nearly three years in the longest case.’
Marked up were the names of the victims and beside them the dates. Langton then took the marker from Jean. Beside the time gaps, he wrote in big letters: USA; USA; USA. ‘These dates are when Alan Daniels was filming in the United States.’
He turned to the room. ‘I don’t know in which US cities, or locations, his filming took place and at this stage I don’t want to go back to Daniels, or his shark of a brief. We’ll go to his theatrical agent. But once I know the cities he was filming in, I will be enquiring Stateside to find out if they had any victims found with our MO.’
Anna sat back in her chair. Langton never ceased to amaze her. She had watched him quietly wipe the floor with all of them and by the end, there wasn’t a man or woman in the room who didn’t feel the same awed respect that she did.
‘Travis!’ Langton gestured towards his office. When Anna grabbed her notebook, she suddenly noticed the doodles covering one page. Before closing the book, she quickly ripped out the page with the rows of hearts. She was irritated to find herself acting like a schoolgirl with a crush on her teacher.
She closed the office door. He had his back to her. ‘What do you think, Travis?’
‘You may be right.’
‘I could also be wrong.’
‘Yes, of course.’
He turned, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk.
‘Thank you for backing me up in there.’
‘I think everyone has come round,’ she said.
‘I appreciate it.’ He looked at his watch: ‘I’m seeing the agent at half past eight. He said by then he will have the information I asked for. I’ll pick you up at your place.’
‘Fine,’ she said, surprised.
‘Good work in Leicester and?’ He cocked his head to one side, studying her. ‘What’s going on?’
She lowered her eyes, selfconsciously.
‘Is there something odd about the right shoulder of your jacket?’ She made a swiping movement with her hand. ‘It looks like a stain, or something.’
‘Oh, it’s just, erm, it was in the sun in the shop window. Oh, God, is it that noticeable?’
‘Only from a certain angle,’ he smiled. ‘Where you were sitting, you had the light from the window behind you. With your red hair, you looked like a friendly little beacon.’
She was silent, nonplussed.
‘OK, that’s it for now. I’ll pick you up at eight.’
‘See you in the morning, sir.’
‘No, Travis.’ He gave an impatient sigh. ‘Tonight!’
After Anna had left his office, she paused in the corridor outside. Well, she decided, better to be noticed as a friendly little beacon than not be noticed at all.
Chapter Nine
Being a neat and methodical person, Anna took the rubbish out every Monday, did her laundry every Tuesday and until now had required no cleaner for the rest, as the flat was so compact. Nevertheless, times had changed. At ten to eight when her doorbell rang, she was eating an impromptu dinner of cornflakes, having arrived home from the station half an hour before, with just enough time to change her shirt and freshen her make-up.
As she hurried to open the door, she spilled the last dregs of milk and cornflakes down her skirt. She swore and with a tea towel wiped herself furiously. There was another sharp ring of the bell. Noticing the small fluffy bits left behind on her skirt, she chucked the tea towel aside, grabbed her bag and opened the door.
‘I’m sorry to keep you waiting,’ she said breathlessly.
She followed the uniformed driver towards the patrol car. Langton sat in the front seat, reading the Evening Standard. He addressed her without looking up.
‘We’re going to see a Mr Duncan Warner. He couldn’t give us an earlier appointment. He’s been making calls to the States to double check a few things, so with the time difference …’
‘Oh, right,’ she said, surreptitiously picking off bits of fluff from her skirt. She noticed he had shaved and changed his shirt and wondered if he kept a wardrobe in the office.
‘Did you get home?’ she asked. She had no idea where he actually lived.
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘Is it too far away?’
He looked up from his newspaper and faced the road ahead.
‘As a matter of fact, it’s not far from you. Kilburn.’
‘Oh.’ She smiled; bit by bit she was discovering more about his private life. She wanted to ask exactly where, but restrained herself.
They drove into the West End and entered Wardour Street. They parked outside a four-storey office building, with AI Management printed in tasteful lettering on the glass door.
Down the staircase inside came a tall, slim girl with a short, tight black skirt and white silk blouse. She looked exactly the way Anna would like to look if she was five inches taller.
‘Do you want to come this way?’ she said, smiling as she let them in. ‘It’s only two floors up.’
Anna couldn’t help noticing her incredibly white teeth. Her blonde hair was cut with a low fringe and the rest of it was caught in a slide at the back. That was how Anna would have liked her hair to look if it wasn’t short and curly and red.
‘I’m Mr Warner’s secretary.’ She shook Langton’s hand. ‘Jessica.’
‘This is Detective Sergeant Travis,’ he gestured towards Anna.
‘Can I offer you a drink?’ Jessica asked once they were in the AI office.
‘No, we’re fine, thank you,’ Langton said reassuringly.
There was an undercurrent of something in the atmosphere. Anna just wasn’t sure what it was.
‘I’ll tell Mr Warner you are here.’
Langton surveyed the reception area, its walls lined with film posters and client photographs. He seemed
