taken with a poster of a haunted house; the windows had enlarged, frightened eyes peering from behind them. The title of the film, Come Home, Emma, was slashed across the poster. He moved closer to read the small print and then turned to Anna. ‘He’s in this. Looks like a load of old tosh.’
Anna walked over. During the day, she thought, this area would probably be a hive of activity, but at night there was something eerie about the quietness. The door to Warner’s office opened. Jessica, backing out, said: ‘I’ll see you in the morning. G’night.’ She turned, opening the door wider. ‘Would you like to go in?’
‘Thank you,’ Langton said. As they passed, Jessica flashed her teeth again, then she was gone.
The office was large, dominated by a massive desk. There were scripts crammed into bookcases and piled on the floor. Lining every available space on the walls were actors’ photographs, most with messages scrawled across: ‘To darling Duncan?; ‘To the best?’, ‘To my beloved Duncan?’
The ‘Duncan’ referred to was balding, fifty-ish and wore a pair of steel-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. His attire included a silk shirt, cord trousers and old, worn carpet slippers. A pair of his shoes was placed by the side of his desk.
‘Come in, sit down.’ He seemed very affable. ‘Now: tea, coffee or a glass of wine?’
‘Nothing, thanks.’ Langton sat down, but Anna responded, smiling: ‘I’d love a glass of water, please.’
‘Right, water it is.’ He crossed to a fridge and opened it. ‘I am obviously very concerned.’ He took out a bottle of water, unscrewed the cap and passed it to Anna. ‘And, to be honest, not quite sure what this all means.’
‘Thank you,’ she said. They sat down on a low, black leather sofa. She positioned herself as far from Langton as possible to give him space. Warner sat in a high-backed swivel chair. Behind the desk was a black pug dog on a cushion. Its huge, watery eyes had blinked at Anna when she entered the room, but otherwise it had been so still, it could have been a stuffed animal. When Warner returned to his chair, the dog, as if offering proof it was a living creature, half turned its head before flopping down on its cushion and going to sleep.
Feeling uncomfortable in such a low position, Langton tried leaning forward. ‘We want to protect your client as much as possible, which is why I asked to see you here. At the moment I can’t really give you details. I just wanted to let you know that in order to avoid publicity, we need to get certain information, information that will hopefully eliminate your client from our enquiries.’
‘Is it fraud?’
‘We would prefer not to disclose the reasons. As I said, we might be able to very quickly eliminate Mr Daniels from the enquiry.’
‘Does he know you have come to see me?’
‘Not unless you have told him.’
‘Me? Oh no, I haven’t said a word. It’s just ? well, you can understand why I am concerned. Alan has just finished filming. Next week there’s a number of things we’re negotiating. How serious is this?’
‘It is very serious. But as I have said, it could be a misunderstanding and rather than make this public, I felt this was the best route we could take.’
‘Yes, yes, I am sure it is. But you do understand why I am nervous about any police enquiry? I mean, is it a sexual thing?’
‘Partly. Yes, it is.’
‘Christ, it’s not little kids, is it?’
‘No.’
‘Good. If it was that, then, you know, I wouldn’t give a shit what happened to him. I can take just about anything, but not that.’ Warner started rubbing his head agitatedly. ‘If you knew what scrapes I’ve had to get some of the stupid buggers out of and it’s not just the men.’ He opened a cigar box, proffered it to Langton. ‘Unbelievable.’
‘No, thank you.’
‘So Alan doesn’t know?’
Langton balanced himself on the end of the sofa. ‘We have had one interview with him.’
‘He’s been in to see you?’
‘Yes, accompanied by his solicitor.’
‘So, this is serious. And you say it’s not fraud?’
‘No, it is not fraud.’
‘And it’s nothing to do with kids. Is it porno, that kind of thing?’
Anna could feel Langton’s impatience. It was obvious that Warner would continue his fishing trip, until he was satisfied.
‘It’s a murder enquiry. Now could we please get to why I am here?’
‘Murder?’
‘You said you would be able to supply me with a list of dates.’
Warner’s face had drained of colour. ‘Is he a witness? A suspect? Or what?’
‘At the moment he is just helping our enquiries. You can understand now why we have not made this public’
‘Oh yes; right.’
‘If it was out in the open, it could create very unpleasant publicity.’
‘I understand, I understand. Then there’s the whole immigration problem.’ Warner was sweating. ‘I’ve got one star they won’t let into the States, because when he was a student he was arrested for smoking a joint.’
Langton stood up. ‘Do you have the information for me?’
Warner nodded. ‘I was on to LA when you arrived. I was able to check the other dates from my own records. One film was shot in San Francisco and another in Chicago. These weren’t leading roles. Alan is yet to break it big over there — ‘ he was opening his desk drawer — ‘but it’s beginning to happen. I didn’t get this typed up, though I can if you want.’
Warner handed Langton a handwritten page of foolscap paper.
‘No, that’ll be fine. Thank you.’
When they returned to their car and driver, Anna looked up at the lit window on the second floor. She tapped Langton’s arm. ‘He’s on the phone. I bet any money he’s repeating it all to someone else.’
‘Probably his boyfriend,’ Langton said lightly, getting into the car. Langton gave the driver instructions to drop Anna home first. Then, as they drove off, he silently checked the dates against a list in his own notebook. After a while, he snapped the notebook closed triumphantly.
‘The gaps between the murders all coincide with periods of time Alan Daniels was filming in the States.’
‘How long was he there for, each time?’
‘It varies. Sometimes five weeks, other times just two and there was one long stretch of six months.’
Langton passed Anna his notebook and the sheet of paper from Warner. She started looking over them.
‘I’ll get on to the US tonight and start the ball rolling,’ he said, staring out the window. Then, almost as an afterthought, ‘Might have to take a trip myself
‘To the States?’
‘No, Travis, the moon!’
She handed him the notebook, which he replaced in his pocket. When his mobile phone rang, he checked the caller ID before he answered it. ‘Hi. Should be with you in about three-quarters of an hour.’ He listened, then said quietly, ‘That sounds good. Or we can go and get something to eat at the Italian.’
Anna had wondered if she should offer to cook him something. Now, she pressed back into her seat, looking out of the window, as he continued what was obviously an intimate conversation. He laughed softly before switching off the phone.
. ‘You want the newspaper?’ he asked without looking back at her.
‘Thank you.’
He extended the paper backwards over his shoulder.
They didn’t speak again for the rest of the journey. Langton went to sleep. When the car stopped to drop her off at her home, he briefly woke to grunt goodnight. It was almost a quarter to ten. She wondered who was waiting to have dinner with him. Whoever it was, she did a good job ironing his shirts.
Anna’s flat had only one bedroom with an en-suite bathroom, a large living room and a small kitchen. The
