The Red Dahlia

'We have a very sick development,' he said.

He showed the mortuary photographs of Elizabeth Short to the team.

'This victim was killed in Los Angeles nearly sixty years ago, but pass the book around and look at the way her body had been dismembered. Pay close attention to the mortuary photographs: you will see they are virtually identical to the way we found Louise Pennel. In fact, the entire scenario is crossing over. Their main suspect was described as a tall man, thirty-five to forty-five years old, well dressed and dark-haired. Their suspect was known to have been driving a very expensive automobile!'

Langton pointed to the Incident board: under WANTED FOR ELIMINATION was their prime suspect. He had been described by Sharon and the dental nurse as tall, dark-haired and wearing an expensive draped coat. Neither woman was able to give the exact make of the car but they described it as large and black, possibly a BMW or a Rover.

Langton looked into the dregs of his coffee, drained the cup and placed it down. He watched as the officers passed the book around, glancing at his watch. Intermittent gasps punctuated the silence in the room. One detective after another saw the horror they were now investigating mirrored in the black-and-white pictures of the murder that had occurred nearly sixty years ago.

Langton continued. 'There were two further murders; both were suspected to be by the same killer. If we are to consider, which I think we have to, that there is some sicko out there emulating this Black Dahlia killer, then it is also possible that he may have already targeted his second victim. Let's hope to Christ we catch this bastard before he gets the opportunity for his next kill.'

A murmur erupted from the stunned team as Langton walked over to the coffee machine for a fresh cup. He turned back to the room as Lewis pinned up the old black-and-white picture of Elizabeth Short on the Incident board.

'The press have already compared the two victims, more or less due to the fact Louise Pennel had a flower in her hair on the photograph they used; they have not, as yet, discovered that the brutality of these murders is almost identical. I am going to ask for a complete press embargo on any further comparisons between the two cases. I don't want what was done to Elizabeth Short sparking a media frenzy of headlines. By withholding some of the details about the atrocities Louise suffered, we will be able to distinguish between the crackpot calls and a real tip-off, and it's a tip-off I am desperate for.'

Langton's mobile rang and he headed into his office to take the call in private. It was Anna, who was sitting in the canteen at the Mirrors offices. She had taken a statement from the journalist who had published the first photograph of Louise.

'The journalist that received the typed note reckoned it was on schoolbook lined paper; the left-hand side was ripped.' She looked at her notebook and read the lines she had copied. 'Roses are red, violets are blue, who killed Louise and slit her mouth in two?'

'Shit!'

'It had to have come from the killer, because we hadn't given a full press release on the cuts to her mouth. I called Sharon and asked her if she had mentioned the wounds to the journalist and she said she hadn't: now for the twist, she also denies ever sending or being paid for the photograph.'

'Could she be lying?'

'I'm not sure; question is if she didn't get paid for the photograph, who did?'

'Where did it come from?'

'He said he paid a runner for it; you know, they have contacts who hang out, taking photographs at clubs. Sometimes they get lucky.'

'Did you get a name?'

'Yep, Kenneth Dunn; I'm tracking him down.'

'Good, okay; keep in touch.'

Anna had arranged to meet Kenneth Dunn at a Radio Shack where he worked part time. Dunn was very eager to speak to her, and broke off a conversation he was having as Anna showed him her ID. He led her through to the back of the shop into a small storage area. Anna showed him the newspaper.

'Did you sell this picture to the Mirror?'

'Yes, they've already paid me for it.'

'How did you come by this photograph?'

'I can't divulge my sources.'

'Why not?'

'Because I have to pay them, and we do a trade-off.'

'You didn't take this photograph, correct?'

'That's right.'

'So please tell me who gave it to you, or who you paid for it, or I will have you arrested for obstructing the police.'

'What?'

'It is imperative I know where this photograph came from and how it was passed to you, Mr Dunn. This girl was murdered and it could become a vital piece of evidence; so, where did you get this photograph from?'

He sighed. 'I was given it.'

'Who by?'

'Look, I don't want to get her into trouble; it wasn't her idea for me to sell it: it was mine. I make a few quid at weekends hanging out at clubs; you know, snapping the stars as they go in or out — especially out, they love shots of them boozed up and falling down — and their own photographers get bored hanging around. I mean, some nights, I've been there until four in the morning.'

'Who gave you this photograph, Mr Dunn?'

Again he hesitated, his greasy face shining; his dark hair was smothered in a glue-like gel which made it stick up in spikes.

'Was it Sharon Bilkin?'

Anna returned to her car and bleeped it open. She threw in her briefcase as she dialled Langton's mobile.

'She was lying: he got the picture from Sharon Bilkin on the promise he would try and get her some coverage, which he did, as she was featured in the same article. He didn't take the photograph and he also didn't know anything about the marks to our victim's mouth.'

Langton gave a long sigh, then there was silence.

'Are you still there?' Anna asked.

'Yeah, yeah, just trying to get the timeframe organised in my brain. The journalist is sent the photo, or it's passed to him by this Dunn character, who got it from Sharon, right?'

'Yes, that's what he said.'

'They buy it, release pictures; so when did this note roses are red, violets are blue shit come in?'

'Day the article appeared.'

'Go back to that silly little cow Sharon. She lied about this; see if she is lying about anything else.'

Anna was almost out of breath by the time she reached the top of the stairs. Either it really was a long way up or she was getting out of shape.

'It's open,' came Sharon's singsong voice.

Anna found Sharon in the kitchen, wearing yellow Marigolds.

'I couldn't face the dirty dishes any more, so I been doing the housework.'

Anna smiled; the kitchen did look a lot cleaner.

'We need to talk, Sharon.'

'Whatever. They come yesterday and took all her bedding and things from her wardrobe.'

Sharon pointed to the cards left on the table by the forensic team, pinned to a neatly written list of all the items removed. 'I said they could take whatever they wanted; I mean, I don't want her stuff and I don't really know