'Your flat?'
'Yes, we had coffee.'
He leaned back in his chair and gestured for her to continue.
Lewis received the forensic report at three o'clock. The bloodstains found beside Justine Wickenham's bathtub did not belong to either Sharon Bilkin or Louise Pennel. He went to give Langton the information. Langton gave a curt 'come in', listened, and then nodded for him to leave. When Lewis hesitated, he snapped. 'Get out!'
Lewis backed out fast and shut the door. There was a long pause.
'So you did the right thing, you got a squad car. What happened to Justine?'
'I don't know. She was behind me; I think she turned off when she saw me being pulled over. She might be at the hospital, but I've been told Emily Wickenham has already been released.'
'Yes, they had to let her go, she's not eighteen so parental permission, etcetera etcetera.'
Anna had an overwhelming need to cry. Try as she might, she couldn't control it. She bit her lip as her chest heaved.
'I'm so sorry,' she said softly, but her eyes filled with tears. 'I'll go and make up a report.' She could hardly get the words out. She so didn't want to allow herself to cry in front of him and she half rose out of the chair, but sank back down.
Langton moved round his desk and gently took her in his arms, resting her head against his shoulder. He stroked her hair.
'Shush, shush, it's okay, just take it easy, take a few big breaths. You know, sometimes when you have to listen to raw pain, it buries little shards inside you: best to let them out.'
She nodded mutely. He released his hold. That really made her want to cry: it had been so comforting to have his arms around her.
He opened the drawer, took out his half bottle of brandy and passed it to her. 'Take a good slug. I'm sure you'll have your stock of peppermints handy.'
She took two big gulps, coughed and then passed it back. 'Thank you.'
He slipped the bottle back into his drawer. 'Maybe take the rest of the afternoon off to get back to speed.'
'No, I'd prefer to work.'
'Suit yourself, but today's a short day anyway, as we go into Wickenham's tomorrow morning. Operation Red Dahlia kicks off at dawn and it will be a long day.'
She gave a glum smile. 'I don't care, however long it takes.'
'Feeling is mutual, even more so now after what you've told me. I just hope to Christ I haven't jumped the gun.'
'I'll type up my report.'
'Good girl,' he said softly.
She walked out of his office, wanting him more than ever to wrap his arms around her again.
Lewis looked over to Anna. 'Is he in a good mood?'
'Yes, I think so,' she said.
'They've just confirmed that the blood splattering on the bathtub wall in Justine Wickenham's flat belongs to Emily, not one of the victims.'
Anna thought it was probably one of Emily's attempts to kill or mutilate herself. She looked over to the Incident Room board. Louise Pennel and Sharon Bilkin seemed to be staring directly at her. She ran over in her mind exactly how Justine Wickenham had reacted to the fact that her father might be their killer. Her own pain was too heavy; her sister's heartbreaking torture by their sadistic father was much too consuming for either of them to be able to care about anyone else's.
Anna looked from one victim to the other. She cared, and she knew every single member of the investigation team was energised by the possibility of at long last making an arrest. The killer of the Black Dahlia had escaped arrest: no one was ever charged with her murder. She again thought back to what Justine Wickenham had said: even if her father was guilty, they would never catch him — he could get away with murder.
Anna returned to her desk. She spent a long time writing up her report and then went through the case files, which were now so numerous that they overflowed in stacks beneath the table. She went back to her desk with the details of the attempted child abuse case against Charles Wickenham. She took down the name of every person who had been involved, including the doctors at the mental institution who had given statements about Emily's mental state. There was nothing connected to her physical condition. If Justine had been telling the truth, a hysterectomy at her young age must have been documented somewhere.
Anna knocked on Langton's office door. He looked up at her, frowning. She kept it to the point: she would like to interview everyone she had listed. He sighed.
'Drop it for now, Anna. We are heading up a murder enquiry: hand that over to the Child Protection Unit. After we're through with him, they might dig up more.'
'But there must have been someone who examined her.'
'He got away with it and, as sick and disgusting and tragic as it is, we have to leave it alone for now, unless we screw up and tomorrow is just a waste of money. Now why don't you go home, get some rest: it's a big day.'
She felt like a schoolgirl standing in front of him. She tried to make light of it. 'I could say the same to you.'
He gave a soft laugh. 'Not to the ringmaster, you can't. It all stands on my decisions and I sure as hell don't want to come back empty-handed. I want that bastard. Goodnight.'
Again, she had the impulse to reach over with both hands to hold his face close and kiss him. Instead she gave a small nod, and walked out.
'Goodnight, Gov'
Chapter Eighteen
The Richmond Hotel car park was crawling with police vans, fifteen in all: there were the forensic team, the SOCOs — scene-of-crime officers — the murder team, the Territorial Support Group, and another six officers drafted in to assist. They had two sets of tracker dogs and handlers; there was also a caterer's truck, all on standby. The hotel had been very accommodating but had asked that they keep as quiet as possible, so as not to disturb residents; opportunely, the hotel was having a lot of construction work done, so there were very few guests.
Everyone gathered in the hotel's ballroom, where rows of chairs had been set out. Lewis was pinning up detailed diagrams of the entire estate when Langton entered. It was two forty-five a.m. He looked tired and anxious and wore a dark grey suit and white shirt and a tie. He had divided the teams up: one group would focus on the cottage, another on the barn, and the largest group would concentrate on the main house. They knew from the surveillance team that Charles Wickenham was at home; Edward and his fianc?e were at their cottage.
Langton pointed to the aerial photographs.
'Going to give you all a quick history lesson. The main house was built around 1540 and was owned by a high-ranking Catholic family. The sixteenth century was the period of the persecution of Catholic priests. There was a piece of anti-priest legislation that created a massive number of English Catholic martyrs: in those days, harbouring any Catholic priest was seen as treason and was punishable by death. The reason I've brought this up is that it's quite possible, therefore, that the house contains a lot of hidden rooms and boltholes. There's a property of similar age in Kidderminster which has over ten hidden priest holes — beside chimneys, beneath stairs, under cellar floors — so we search very thoroughly.'
