Lynda La Plante - Backlash

‘The hair band?’

‘Correct. See if Mike can tease out what Oates can remember – you know, make sure that he was being honest when he said the reason he remembered Rebekka was because of the television reconstruction.’

‘Okay, I’ll make a note of it to tell Mike.’

‘If Oates describes the pink hair band, you know he came into contact with her the day she disappeared.’

‘But he could have seen her wearing it any time before she went missing?’

‘No he couldn’t. Emily Jordan had only bought it the previous day and Rebekka had never had, or worn, a pink Alice band before.’

‘Sorry but I wasn’t aware of that.’

‘Well it’s in the case file.’

‘Right. Anything else?’

‘If you’re not going to finish your bagel I’ll have it.’

Anna passed him her plate and took the tray back to the kitchen. She wanted to leave, so didn’t bother washing up, just hovered in the doorway of his bedroom.

‘I’m off now as I really want to get on with checking out those two boxers, all right? You’ve fresh coffee in the percolator and…’

She hesitated. He lay back and closed his eyes.

‘Do you mind if I take that doll’s house into the station?’

He opened his eyes. ‘Why?’

‘It gives a clear indication of how the house and garden looked before the extension.’

He sighed and said she could take it and not to bother bringing it back. Kitty didn’t want it and he hated looking at it.

‘Well you know where I am,’ she said as she walked out.

‘You know where I am!’ he yelled back.

She went into the kitchen and dug in a cupboard for a large carrier bag. There were so many plastic bags tossed inside, the cupboard door wouldn’t close. She returned to his bedroom.

‘This cleaner… when she gets here tell her to clear out the kitchen cupboards. I’m taking a big John Lewis carrier bag, okay?’

He held out his hand and grinned. ‘Come here, you.’

She moved closer and he leaned forwards to catch her hand.

‘Thank you. And will you call me if you get anything from these two boxers?’

‘Of course.’

‘Leave your mobile on?’

‘Yes I will.’

‘Okay. You go off then and see you later maybe.’

She hesitated, turning back to look at him. She wanted to say to him that she wouldn’t be seeing him later, that she wasn’t prepared to be at his beck and call to pick up groceries, cook for him and feed him, but he looked so vulnerable, so untidy and in need of a shave and a bath that she thought better of it.

‘Hope you feel better soon. Bye.’

The doll’s house wouldn’t quite go in the bag, but in the end she managed to cover the roof and first floor. She had to rest it on the bonnet of her Mini as she unlocked it, as it was very heavy, and she couldn’t get it into the passenger or back seats as it was too wide. In the end she folded the rear seats flat to make the boot bigger and managed to fit it in the car. She slotted the little bags of tiny furniture and figures in beside it.

Joan and Barbara had to hold open the incident room double doors for Anna to carry in the doll’s house. She placed it on an empty desk and both of the older women stood around to admire it. Joan was especially taken with it.

‘I used to have one, though not as well built as this. It’s lovely and with a spot of paint it’ll look even better. Is it home-made?’

‘Yes.’ Anna removed her coat and then had to go back to her car for her briefcase as she’d been unable to carry it before. When she returned the two women were still opening and closing the doors of the house, and Joan was inspecting the little bags of furniture.

‘If it’s not a rude question, why is it here?’ Barbara asked, heading back to her desk.

‘Could be used as evidence, but I’m not sure about it. Maybe get it down to the property lockup later.’

‘Do you know something?’ Joan began. ‘I was telling Barbara the other day about some episodes of CSI , that TV series from America. They had this killer and he sent in small doll’s-house-size rooms showing how he killed his victims.’

‘Really?’ Anna sat at her desk.

‘My mother never misses it. They showed teeny little knives in one doll, one was shot and another poisoned, all hand-made by the murderer.’

Barbara rolled her eyes as Joan was still bent over the doll’s house.

‘You know the windows open and shut.’

‘It’s actually about the garden. Rebekka Jordan’s parents had a big extension built, but as you can see there isn’t one here.’

‘It’s been damaged.’ Joan was now checking out the back garden area and squatting down on her heels.

‘It must have taken someone hours and hours to make this.’

‘Was it Rebekka’s?’ Barbara asked.

‘Yes.’ Anna said, eager to get on with her work. She didn’t mention that she had brought it in from Langton’s. Now she turned to the big bag of posters and programmes from York Hall. The musty smell made her sneeze as she spread them over her desk. None of the posters featured Henry Oates’s name, so she put them aside and began to sift through the programmes. She found one with the name of Timmy Bradford from about fifteen years ago, but still had no joy with Henry Oates. There were numerous programmes mentioning Ira Zacks, both as a semi-pro fighter and an amateur. He appeared to go from middle- to heavyweight. The last programme she checked out had Henry Oates down as a light middleweight amateur boxer and his opponent was Timmy Bradford, also an amateur.

Anna added the information to the incident room board. She put in a call to Timmy Bradford but there was no answer, so she next rang Ira Zacks and hung on waiting for an answer for almost four minutes. Eventually a deep guttural voice growled, ‘Yes?’

Anna explained who she was and that if it was convenient she would like to speak to him regarding his friendship with Henry Oates.

‘Who?’

He sounded half asleep and she constantly had to repeat herself before he finally admitted that he used to know Oates, but hadn’t seen him for years. She asked if he knew Timmy Bradford and he said that he did, but again had not been in contact with him for years.

It took a while before Ira agreed to see Anna. He said he’d had some business at a nightclub and hadn’t got home until the early hours, so it would be best if she came that afternoon. He gave her an address in Hammersmith. She asked if Timmy Bradford still lived at the address in Bromley she had and he said he couldn’t tell her. All he did remember about him was that he worked for a security firm.

Anna tried the phone number for Timmy Bradford again and this time it was answered by a woman who said she’d never heard of him and she’d lived at the flat for the last four years.

Joan was given the job of calling York Hall to see if they had a date of birth for Timmy Bradford so she could try and locate him through the benefits office at the Department for Work and Pensions or other agencies.

‘You know we got a bit of a break with Fidelis Flynn?’ Barbara said to Anna. ‘Barolli and Joan spent hours going through adverts for flat shares from the Evening Standard and Time Out , around the time Fidelis disappeared. They checked through hundreds.’

‘And?’

‘Came in late last night. Barolli got a hit. It was a bedsit in a converted Victorian house in Shepherd’s Bush.’

‘What? You are kidding me?’

Joan looked across at them. ‘Girl fitting Fidelis’s description went to see the flat, said she would think about it and call that evening. Never rang back.’

Joan got up to point out the exact location on the blown-up map now on the incident board.