case, but we have the clothing from Donny Petrozzo on the benches. Downstairs, they're stripping down the Mitsubishi.''You get something from the blood on the bullet from the murder site?''Yes. I was just about to contact DI Travis.''Well, I'm here, so what have you got?' Cunningham demanded.Jenkins picked up his report. 'The blood is not a match for the victim. We have run it through the database but we have come up empty-handed; in other words, there is no match on file.''So what is your take on it?'Jenkins shrugged. 'Pretty much the same as DI Travis: your gunman fired six shots, five into your victim. One shot clipped the man we believe was standing behind him. We've made a few more tests on the angle of the bullets and the spattering.''No, no! Let me look over Petrozzo's clothes. Found any bloodstains on them?''Not as yet, I believe, but we're still checking them over. His pockets were empty. We had no papers or identifying documents, but we got his ID from his prints.''Yes, I know. What about the bin liners and the tape?'Jenkins led them over to a tresde table. 'We have four bin bags. Pathology department sliced through them as neatly as possible to help, but the bags and the tape are a common variety and hard to trace. Also, I would say whoever wrapped him up—and, by the by, did it very well, the body was quite well preserved—I think must have worn gloves, as we have as yet no fingerprints. Often we get a good result from duct tape but, in this case, nothing.'Cunningham sighed and looked to Markham. 'You want to ask something?'Markham nodded and pointed to the shoes. 'Any bloodstains on these?''Nope. We have mud particles, but no blood.''So he wasn't at the murder site?''The footprints we have from there are not his size. He is, or was, size-nine shoe and, I think I was told, around five feet nine, so he wasn't the man standing behind your victim Frank Brandon. Travis and I have ascertained he had to be over six feet two or three—''Really? DI Travis seems to have spent a lot of time here,' Cunningham said sarcastically. She gestured to Markham that it was time to leave, and walked off without so much as a thank-you to Jenkins.Their next stop was Vernon Lee, the ballistics expert. Lee had little to add, apart from the fact that the bullet was from the same Glock pistol and, as with the other bullets, they did not have the casing. Frustrated, Cunningham and Markham returned to their car.As they left the car park, Cunningham switched on her BlackBerry and began checking her messages. Then she looked at Markham. 'You ever worked with Chief Superintendent James Langton?''No, ma'am.''Travis worked three cases with him. He rated her, but said she was a bit of a solo artist; got into some trouble with a journalist on one case. I need you to watch over her. I don't want her creating any more problems for me than I've already got.''Yes, ma'am.''And we do have problems, Phil, big ones. We're now four days into the investigation with fuck all, and Frank Brandon being an ex-cop is starting to create pressure from the chief. We need to get some kind of a result, and fast, so all weekend leave will be canceled.''Yes, ma'am.''You see Travis acting like she's running this investigation, you report straight back to me—understood?''Yes, ma'am.' Markham didn't like this at all, and decided he would have a quiet word with Anna when he returned to the station. Anna and Cordon went back to question Paul Wrexler and Mark Taylor, who had both scored drugs from Donny Petrozzo. Again, they were spun virtually the same story. Donny always insisted that he was not a dealer; he could just get a few grams for when they needed it. Both the companies they worked for had used Donny's firm of chauffeurs when they required clients to be collected from the airport, or for special functions. Donny was not on a permanent payroll, but worked freelance; due to his good record, they had used him for over eight years. He owned a Mercedes-Benz and a Ford Escort, which he and his wife used for personal driving. Donny's Mercedes had not been recovered.When Anna and Gordon called in to the station. Cunningham had still not returned. Anna made sure that the duty manager reported to Cunningham, when she did get back, that she and Gordon were going to see Mrs. Petrozzo.Donny Petrozzo's address was in Fulham. As they were arriving, Gordon got a call from the station. When they saw Mrs. Petrozzo, they should tell her that a car had been arranged to take her to the mortuary. She was required to identify her husband.Anna was stunned that no one had yet been to see Mrs. Petrozzo to give her the news. 'You know, DCI Cunningham should have sorted this out.''Well, I suppose as we only found him yesterday ...' Gordon said uneasily.'We had him identified fast enough by his prints. His wife should have been told straightaway. It's really disgusting.''I suppose so.' Gordon checked his l-Z. 'Next right. The flat faces the Palmers Green Park. Nice area.'span> They drove over to the bays at the rear of the block. Parked underneath a cloth cover was Donny Petrozzo's Mercedes and, next to it, his Ford Escort. Anna had lifted the cover to check the number plate and then, being on best behavior, called in to the station to suggest they remove the Mercedes to be checked over by forensics.Mrs. Petrozzo lived on the top floor. The stain and corridors were well kept, with buckets of flowers on each landing. Flat 10 had a freshly painted front door, with a polished brass letterbox.'You ever done one of these before?' Anna asked Gordon.'One of what?''Telling someone that their loved one's dead, then trying to get information out of them?''No.''Okay. This is the way I am going to work it: we keep the death until last—'we are not sure,' et cetera—I need some answers first.''Right,' Gordon said as Anna rang the doorbell.Mrs. Petrozzo was a pale, nervous woman with straight, unflattering hair pinned to one side with a clip. She was quite well dressed, if rather drab, and she had an Irish accent.'Mrs. Petrozzo?' Anna said pleasantly, at the same time showing her identification. 'This is Detective Gordon Loach, and I am Detective Inspector Anna Travis. I wonder if it is convenient for me to ask you some questions?''What is it about? Only I was just going out.''It is important. Could we please come in and talk to you?''Is it about Donny?''Yes.''I've been waiting for him to call me,' she said, gesturing for them to go down the immaculate little hallway, to a large sitting room overlooking the park.'Oh, this is a lovely room,' Anna said.'Yes. I've lived here nearly all my life. My parents had the flat, then when they died, me and Donny moved in.''You own it?''Yes, my father did, so we took over the mortgage. Can I get you tea or coffee?''No, thank you. Mrs. Petrozzo, this is a very serious matter we are here to discuss. When did you last see your husband?''About four days ago. He was working. He often goes away—well, not often, but he sort of said this was a possibility. He usually calls me, but I've not heard from him and I'm worried.''Do you know who he was working for?''No.''Did he mention any names at all?''No, he keeps his business very private. I knew some of it, but he never really bothers to talk to me too much. He's often out early and back very late. I know he was collecting someone from Heathrow.' 'But you don't know who?''No.''Does Mr. Petrozzo have an office?''He has a phone and a desk next door.''Mrs. Petrozzo, 1 really need to see your husband's office.''I'm afraid I can't let you; he will go mad. I hardly ever go in there accept to hoover and dust. It's his business, you see.'Anna braced herself, and then leaned forward. 'Mrs. Petrozzo, your husband might have met with a fatal accident. We are here to ask you to accompany a police officer —''Accident?''Yes. We have someone at the mortuary—''I don't understand.''It's possible your husband is dead. I am so sorry.'Anna was not prepared for the reaction, because there was hardly one at all. The woman just sat there, with her hands in her lap.'I really do need to see your husband's workroom,' Anna repeated gently. 'Would that be possible?'The lack of response was unnerving. Still Mrs. Petrozzo sat, with her rather big rawboned hands folded in her lap. She then made a soft coughing sound, as if clearing her throat. 'I am afraid that is not possible. If you insist, then you will have to get a search warrant. I would like you to leave, please.''I'm sorry, Mrs. Petrozzo —'Anna was interrupted as the reticent woman suddenly stood up, her face now twisted with rage. 'I allowed you to come in here, because I thought you were coming to talk about that bloody CCTV camera right outside our block of flats. It swivels and looks straight into the flats—it's outrageous they can just set one of those intrusive things up without ever getting permission from a single tenant, and I know they are looking into the bedrooms. I know that for certain, because we have two young girls in the flat next to us and they are complaining about it.''If you would like me to make you a cup of tea ...'Mrs. Petrozzo turned on Anna, her big hands clenched into fists at her side. 'You will not set foot in my kitchen! I want you to get out.My husband is going to make you pay for this. I don't believe you are from the police. I think you've come here to steal from me. that's what this is all about. I know about you people, I know ...' She was like the mouse that roared. She began thrashing at her sides with her fists, and spittle formed in the corners of her mouth as she hurled abuse at them.It took an hour. They had to call a doctor. Gordon found the address in a book by the telephone. Anna rang into the station to request a search warrant be issued. All the time, Mrs. Petrozzo shouted and argued with them, and screeched and threw cushions. Even with Gordon trying to calm her, she was unstoppable. By the time the doctor arrived, she had quietened down but was still unstable.The poor woman had a history of mental illness and had been sectioned numerous times. She was sedated and taken to her bedroom. The doctor knew of a niece who had often stayed to care for her; he was dismissive of Donny, saying that he kept his distance from his wife at all times. By the time they had arranged for the niece, Ella Douglas, to leave her work and come to the flat, another hour passed. When Anna told Ella the reason for their visit, her response was equally shocking. She just said that she hoped Donny was dead, the way he had treated his poor wife.Anna glanced at Gordon, who was even redder in the face than usual. 'Look. Gordon, this entire scene is not the usual,' she told him. 'I've never had a reaction like it, but we just have to sit it out.'Ella tended to Mrs. Petrozzo and handed Anna a set of keys to the office. 'These are what you want. I will go and identify Donny. She can't be put through that.'The small room was neat and orderly, with a desktop computer and a filing cabinet. Donny was meticulous: a large desk diary listed his clients and his commitments. He wrote in
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