Lynda La Plante - The Red Dahlia

Langton swore, fed up with the constant references to a girl just because she had a flower in her hair, but Anna continued. 'Elizabeth Short was murdered in 1947 in the United States; her killer was never caught. This book is written by a former police officer who believes that his father was the man who killed her.'

Langton stopped doodling and stared at the cover of the book.

'If you flick through to the middle part, I've put a yellow sticker on the relevant pages. There are also mortuary photographs you should look at.'

He sniffed and began turning over the pages. 'What am I looking at?'

'The body: look how she was found.'

Langton frowned, turning the book this way and that to look at the black-and-white photographs. 'Jesus Christ.'

'There's a website.'

'What?'

'There's a website; it contains more detailed photographs of the way the victim was discovered.'

'Holy shit. I don't believe this.'

'I read it last night and I couldn't believe it either. If you look at the pages marked with blue stickers, they are also relevant, I think.'

Langton sat back and began reading. He read in silence for about ten minutes, then he slowly lowered the book.

'So what are you suggesting? That the same guy killed Louise? He'd have to be in his nineties, for God's sake!'

'No, no: the police officer's father has been dead more than five years. Another possible suspect died in a fire in the sixties. Look at the next set of stickers.'

'What colour?' He looked up and gave her that smile.

'Green. The man they hunted for Elizabeth's murder was never traced; he is described as a "tall dark stranger". There are also some sketches of him.'

'Fuck me!' Langton said, then snapped the book closed. 'So?'

'So, I think we might have a copycat killer. I called both the Mirror and the Sun and spoke to their crime reporters. The Sun described Louise as the Red Dahlia. We thought it was just due to the flowers in the two victims' hair. But they were both contacted.'

Langton leaned forwards. 'And?'

'In both cases they received an anonymous letter; neither thought anything of it, you know possible crank, murder aficionado…'

'Yeah yeah, and?'

'They destroyed them.'

'Fuck!'

'But look at the yellow stickers again. The LA killer sent many letters to the police and the newspapers, always gloating about how clever he was and that they'd never catch him…'

'I'm reading, I'm reading!' Langton snapped.

Anna waited until he had finished.

'The anonymous note to the journalist at the Mirror, as far as he could remember, said something about Louise's mouth being slit in two. The one sent to the other journalist, Richard Reynolds at the Sun, mentioned the Black Dahlia case and called Louise the Red Dahlia. Until then, Reynolds had never even heard of the murder of Elizabeth Short.'

Langton flicked back and forwards over the relevant photographs in the book.

Anna continued. 'The first note was sent to the Mirror journalist after his article had been published.'

Langton sprang to his feet and shoved his hands into his pockets. 'This is bloody good, Travis, bloody sick… but it's possible. Jesus Christ, can you leave this with me for a while and I'll chew it over? Don't mention it to anyone. Not yet.'

Anna nodded and walked out. Langton didn't come into the Incident Room until two hours later. He bent down to place the book on Anna's desk. He was so close she could smell his aftershave.

'Can you get the website up for me?'

'Sure.'

He stared at the grotesque images of the dismembered Elizabeth and then said, very quietly, 'Sick bastard, he even placed our body ten inches off the centre. It's bloody identical. My God, explain this one, huh?'

'Copycat,' Anna said, without emotion.

Langton ran his fingers through his hair so that it stood up on end. 'You think when this book was published it triggered…?' He used his hand to make a winding motion at the side of his head.

'Who knows? Something had to.'

Langton nodded, then patted her shoulder. 'Get over to the offices at the Mirror and the Sun, see what they tossed; meanwhile I'll bring this up with the team.'

'Okay,' she said, shutting down the computer, adding, 'It's a very popular website.'

'What does that say to you, Anna?'

She shrugged and again he leaned close to her.

'It says, Anna, that there's a lot of sick fuckers out there, that's what it says to me. Who the hell wants to see those mortuary photographs? It should be wiped off the web.'

'We have to find him,' she murmured.

'You think I don't know that!' he snapped.

'It's just that if he is a copycat murderer, there were two others: the police at the time reckoned they were done by the same killer. If he's copycatted Elizabeth Short, then what may happen is he'll go the whole nine yards and kill again.'

Langton stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets. 'I hope to Christ you're wrong.'

He moved off and she was left feeling slightly depressed, not because he hadn't at any point praised her good work; it was his closeness. She had wanted some personal response from him, but had received none. It was as if their relationship from the last case had never existed. She mentally shook herself and told herself to get it together; after all, it had been her that had not wanted to continue seeing him. The truth was, there had been no one she had even been remotely interested in since Langton, and she chided herself for letting her old emotions seep back to the surface.

Langton stood in front of the team, holding up the Black Dahlia book. Anna was well on her way to the Mirrors offices by the time he mentioned that DI Travis had brought it to his attention.

'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.'