‘Do you still have it?’
‘It was too nice to use. It’s still in the paper she wrapped it in.’
‘Can we check it?’
‘If you like.’
Isaac made a phone call. Grant Meston, Windsor’s deputy, came over.
‘Mrs Hawthorne has a vase in her house. The lady who used to check on Aberman’s house gave it to her. There may be fingerprints.’
‘I’ll check it out now. It shouldn’t take long.’
Isaac left Meston with the old lady and returned to the back of Aberman’s house. A grid pattern had been laid out in the garden, and the two machines were going up and down at a slow pace. ‘We can’t hurry this,’ Windsor said. ‘It’s been a few years, the ground’s bound to have compacted.’
‘Are you certain with the machines?’
‘If there’s a body, we’ll find it. Grant said you may have a lead next door.’
‘Fingerprints on a vase. If they’re Helen Langdon’s, then it’s a further tie-in to the Dixey Club and Barry Knox.’
‘Nasty piece of work, is he?’
‘He’s not someone you’d want to invite around your house. Denied everything, of course.’
‘Don’t they always.’
‘The man’s gone from pimping to running a strip club, so he’s suspect to start with, and his bodyguard, he’s the violent type. The sort of person who could kill Aberman.’
From the far end of the garden, one of the CSIs raised his hand. ‘Over here,’ he shouted.
‘A result?’ Isaac said.
‘Don’t get too excited. It could be a cat or a dog buried there. Whatever it is, it’ll take most of the day to confirm.’
Grant Meston reappeared. ‘Perfect prints,’ he said.
‘Whose?’
‘Helen Langdon.’
Isaac phoned Larry and Wendy. ‘It’s confirmed. Helen Langdon was the mysterious woman at Aberman’s house.’
‘What next?’ Wendy asked.
‘We’ll meet later tonight. The CSIs have found something in the garden.’
‘Aberman?’
‘Unknown. They’re erecting a crime scene tent. From here on in, it’s down to being on the ground and slowly sifting through the soil.’
A voice came from another part of the garden. ‘Over here.’
‘It’s going to be a busy day,’ Windsor said.
‘Okay, call me when you have something,’ Isaac said.
***
Isaac could see no advantage in staying around Aberman’s house, and with a disciplinary hearing pending, he had to prepare his defence. Helen Langdon seemed the reason for the double killing at the hotel in Bayswater, but the waters were becoming muddied. It was now known that she had been involved in a relationship with Ben Aberman, the previous owner of the Dixey Club.
Larry was checking on the Adamants, trying to understand why and how Helen had married the father, whether the man’s death had been as a result of his madness or whether he had been murdered.
Larry found the youngest child, Howard, at his place of work, the family home. ‘How much money can you make doing this?’ Larry asked, as Adamant sat in front of his monitor.
‘It depends. Some weeks, a few thousand, others as much as fifty or sixty.’
‘Serious money.’
‘Hard work, long hours.’
‘That’s what I’ve got,’ Larry said.
The man opposite continued working, although he was communicative. ‘I’ve got to finish this today,’ he said. ‘Have you found out who killed Helen?’
‘Not yet. She seems to have led a varied life.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Before she met your father, she was performing in a club.’
‘We know that. Dixey’s. It’s a dive.’
‘You’ve been there?’
‘Once or twice with some friends.’
‘When Helen was performing?’
‘Not then. They still had her picture outside, although I can understand why.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘You’ve been?’
‘Twice.’
‘They’re not much, the ones up on that stage. Helen, she must have been the star performer.’
‘She was.’
‘I can’t imagine her with the men, the same as the others.’
‘She wasn’t, although she played along.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Some of my friends, they’d seen her there, but I never did.’
‘You fancied her?’ Larry said.
‘Who wouldn’t? She was more my age than my father’s, but he had the money.’
‘Apparently, the money wasn’t that important to her.’
‘What do you reckon? You’re the policeman.’
‘Money’s always important, so’s love. Helen seemed to prefer older men, no doubt they treated her better.’
‘More likely to forgive and forget, and she flattered their egos. I would have taken her in an instant, but she’d seen through me.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I was in my early twenties. I was into anything in a skirt.’
‘It wouldn’t have been serious with you, just another woman.’
‘Maybe, maybe not, but I wasn’t into settling down. Helen, if she wanted security and a decent man, that wasn’t me, not back then.’
‘And now?’
‘I’ve grown up, money in the bank. Sometimes the stress of my work gets to me, and the idea of hitting the clubs, chatting up a woman doesn’t appeal anymore. It’s a shame about Helen. If she was in that room with James Holden, there was a reason; maybe it was love, but whatever it was, she’s blameless.’
‘Why so much devotion to the woman from everyone we’ve met? And we’ve been to Dixey’s, we’ve spoken to your family, to Holden’s family. What is it?’
‘I don’t know. Are you suspicious?’
‘Nobody’s that good. Everyone’s got something they’d rather hide, skeletons best left hidden.’
‘But you know her skeletons. She performed in that club, danced naked, took money from depraved onlookers.’
‘Depraved?’
‘You’ve been. What do you think?’
‘You’re right, I suppose.’
‘It’s the permissive society. If you want some titillation, to get laid, you just need to go out of a Saturday night, any pub, and there are plenty of females waiting for a man.’
‘Is that what you do?’
‘I’ve one or two women I can phone up. I’m doing alright for myself,’ Howard Adamant said.
Larry could only agree with the man as he left the house. Outside, a Porsche, and the
