Lynda La Plante - The Red Dahlia

'I would really have liked more time to digest the case history to date, so I will very likely need to get back to you with further details on how I think you should progress.'

She turned to indicate the photographs of Louise Pennel. 'The killer obviously had a lengthy period of time to commit this crime. She was missing for three days. It is quite possible she took that length of time to die. Your killer has to have a place where the dismembering and blood draining could be done. I do think the perpetrator is someone with medical training and I do think you are looking for a male. He will live somewhere in this area, quite possibly close to the murder site itself. This kill is premeditated. Your killer will have taken many months choosing his victim and planning the torture as part of his modus operandi; he must therefore have known the victim very well. He would have known that she would not be missed for some considerable time. I am aware that you are hoping to trace a suspect. This description of a tall, well-dressed, perhaps middle-aged man would fit the profile I have begun on your killer. This man, I doubt I have to tell you, is extremely dangerous. I do not think that Louise was his first victim; I also do not think she will be his last. Perhaps it would be advisable to go back into any unsolved cases and look for murders with an exceptional sadistic sexual motive.'

Professor Marshe paused and looked at her notes; she then tapped the page. 'It's quite possible that this killer will have been married; he may even still be married and with a family; grown-up children, I think. He has a hatred of women. So look for someone whose previous marriages have failed, someone who has been humiliated and someone with an immense ego; it is his ego we need to concentrate on, because that's what will lead you to him.'

Anna stifled a yawn. The truth was Professor Marshe had not really told them anything they had not already discussed. Langton, on the other hand, appeared so enamoured with what the Professor was saying that Anna wanted to slap him. She watched, irritated, as Professor Marshe held up the book on the Black Dahlia that she herself had brought to Langton's attention.

'The last book written on the Black Dahlia constantly refers to how clever the killer of Elizabeth Short was: clever enough that, after numerous contacts by him to the police, they were still unable to catch him. It is quite likely that he went on to kill two more women, as if to prove himself above suspicion. Even after these murders he remained undetected. Your killer will have enjoyed reading as much information about Elizabeth Short as possible, because he identifies himself with her killer. If you read the description of Elizabeth Short, she is very similar to Louise Pennel: Elizabeth was twenty-two years old, five feet six inches. She had black hair whereas Louise Pennel was dark blonde, dyed red. Both women's fingernails were bitten down to the quick. I am certain your killer chose Louise Pennel very carefully and I am certain he will have the same overblown ego as Elizabeth Short's killer. His psychological sickness will mean he wants as much attention given to the Louise Pennel case as to the Black Dahlia. For starters, he has alerted the press to the Elizabeth Short case and encouraged them to give your victim the nickname of the Red Dahlia. I am certain that the two letters received by the journalists were sent by him. Now he will become desperate to hear about the enquiry: he will want to read about his exploits; to hear that you have no leads will fuel his ego and provoke him to make further contact. To date, you have not released the full extent of Louise's horrific injuries. I suggest you maintain a very low profile to draw him out. The more he is drawn out to make contact, the more likely he is to make a mistake.'

Anna watched as Professor Marshe closed her file, indicating that the meeting was over. The team began to talk amongst themselves. Langton and Professor Marshe spent some time looking over the board then went into Langton's office. Barolli wandered over to Anna's desk.

'What do you think?' he asked.

'She's not exactly said anything we haven't discussed. I mean, we are all certain he's a freak, and quite possibly the tall dark stranger that Louise was dating, but the reality is we are no closer to discovering who he is. To be honest, I am not sure if we have the time to play his games.'

'What do you mean?'

'Trying to draw him out and putting a press embargo on exactly what we release might just be a big time-waster. Someone out there knows who he is; someone saw him with Louise, and without a big press push, we might not get anything until he kills again. Which I agree with her, he is going to do.'

'So you didn't rate her?'

'I didn't say that.'

Barolli smiled. 'The bit about the suspect being married with grown-up kids will give us more to work on.'

Anna shrugged. 'I don't see how; we've not even got a possible suspect yet.'

'But she said that Louise had to have been with this guy. You said it yourself: somebody has to bloody know him.'

'Not if he made sure he was never seen with Louise; from what I gathered from Sharon, he never even went into the flat. He waited outside in the car.'

'Yeah, the shiny black one!' Barolli sighed, exasperated, and wandered off.

Anna crossed her legs beneath the desk and swore as she felt her tights snag. She bent down and hitched up her skirt; the ladder was spreading upwards from a large hole on her knee.

'You want to see if this woman in Bognor Regis can give us anything?'

Anna looked up; Langton was leaning on her desk.

'Sure.'

He leaned closer, looking down. 'What are you doing?'

'Oh, nothing; just snagged my tights.'

'Off you go then.'

'Now?'

'Yes, Travis, now; unless you have something else pressing? No need to take anyone with you.' He paused for a moment. 'What did you think of her?'

She knew who he was referring to, of course, but acted as if she didn't. 'Think of who?'

'Professor Marshe?'

'Interesting; not as informative as Michael Parks.'

'Well, he didn't give us much to start off with, if you remember; in fact, I didn't rate him at all when he first talked to the team, but he came up with the goods on how to handle Alan Daniels. Aisling seems to think we are hunting down another sociopath.'

Anna busied herself packing her briefcase. 'Bit obvious; I mean what sane person would commit such a horrific murder? Every time I think about it I feel sick.'

'Let's hope your outing to Bognor Regis proves to be worthwhile.'

'Will it be okay if I go straight home after, as I'm off at four?'

'Why not?' he said, walking away; he then turned back, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

'Eager to get off home? That's not like you; unless you've got a date?'

'No,' she lied, then added that she had been up late working on the report.

'Ah yes; well, enjoy your trip.'

'Thank you.' Anna snapped her briefcase closed. She didn't know how he managed to get under her skin so easily. 'I'll call in if I do get anything,' she said, but he was already moving across the room to speak to Lewis and Barolli.

Mrs Pennel's was a large Victorian double-fronted house with big bay windows, set well back from the road leading down to the beach. All the other properties had gardens that were well kept, if slightly strewn with sand, but this one was very overgrown. Anna rang the intercom at the gate and waited, the wind whipping her coat. At last, a disembodied voice asked who she was, and then buzzed it open. The path and front steps were gritty with sand and the doormat was threadbare; it looked as if it hadn't been swept or moved in years.

Anna rang the bell and stepped back. The front door had stained-glass panels, two with tape over the cracks. It was a few minutes before the door clicked open and a reincarnation of Mrs Danvers peered out. She was dressed in a black crepe skirt and woollen sweater, with a housekeeper's faded floral smock over it, dark stockings and lace-up shoes. It was her iron-grey hair that made Anna think instantly of Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca, as it was worn in an old-fashioned forties style with a roll either side of her head. She had thin, drawn lips and small, button-cold eyes.