Lynda La Plante - Above Suspicion

But Anna held her ground. ‘Did you ever find if there was a connection between the victims? I noticed they’re all from the north of England.’

‘You noticed that?’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘Well, continue to read the case reports; after that, read up on the enquiry details and the thousands of statements taken and you’ll find we didn’t come up with any connection. They didn’t know each other!’

Mike Lewis popped his head round the door. ‘Did you want Rawlins brought in? We’ve had another look and still think it might be him, edge of frame.’

‘Yeah, wheel him back in. Soon as you have something, call me.’

‘Right.’

Lewis shut the door behind him and there was a pause.

Langton’s eyes were closed; he was resting on his folded elbows. Anna was just wondering if she should leave when he spoke. ‘Something’s wrong. The way she’s running in the footage. Something isn’t right.’

‘Well, she’d had a fight with her boyfriend,’ Anna said tentatively.

‘It’s the way she’s running. Doesn’t look like a kid pissed off with her boyfriend. Looks more like she’s scared.’

Anna was trying to recall the order of the footage. ‘The two boys that approached her?’

‘Yeah — I think she might have been mugged and we’re missing that section. All we do know is we have a witness and a time coder that makes her still alive at half past eleven.’

He lifted his head and looked at her.

‘You worked with that profiler, Michael Parks, didn’t you?’

‘Erm, yes.’

‘I never give those profilers much kudos. It’s all about stating the obvious.’

‘I think he’s very good,’ she said, nervously.

‘Do you indeed? Well, if DS Travis rates him, I should do as the Gold Group request and get him in then, shouldn’t I?’

‘He did some very good work when we were on a kidnap situation.’

‘Really? Well, let’s hope he can do some good work for us.’

Anna waited to be dismissed. Langton picked up a file and started reading. Glancing up a moment later, he seemed surprised that she was still standing there and said she could leave.

Anna returned to her desk, irritated with him. At the far side of the room Moira was engaged in conversation with Mike Lewis.

‘If she got mugged and they took her handbag, makes more sense that she maybe could have accepted a ride.’

Eavesdropping on their conversation, Anna pretended to give all her attention to the file. Soon, however, she was absorbed in what was written. Langton did seem to cover everything in his own way. She knew that after reading the next victim’s report, she had better give herself enough time to check out the actual police enquiries. She didn’t want to give Langton any opportunity to get in another snide dig.

Jean appeared with a tray of coffee. ‘Not a doughnut left and the vultures have already started cleaning out the canteen. Press conference starts in the briefing room, fifteen minutes.’

As the coffee was passed round, Jean looked over to Anna. ‘Sorry. You weren’t here when I took the orders.’

‘That’s OK,’ Anna said, tired and still busy.

‘Who does he want to go in with him?’ Moira called out. ‘Barolli and Lewis?’

‘Yes, that’s right. Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee,’ Jean said. She turned to Anna. ‘He wants you too, Travis.’

In the briefing room, the press had arrived in force. Seated on the rows of chairs, they read the press release that had just been handed out. The office manager had consulted Langton about what else should be included in the press package: selected photographs and some details of the crimes. A long desk with a microphone had been placed in front of the chairs. Two video cameras were recording.

Anna waited outside the double doors. The noise from inside was a low buzz as the journalists talked quietly amongst themselves. She saw Langton coming towards her down the corridor, flanked by Lewis and Barolli. She noticed all three had shaved and put clean shirts on. Langton was wearing a grey suit and a navy blue tie. He seemed ill at ease as he turned to his sidekicks. ‘Right, let’s go. Travis, sit next to me.’

‘Yes, sir,’ she said, following them through the double doors.

The room fell silent as they took their seats at the long table. On the wall behind them there were large blown-up photographs of Melissa Stephens. Anna, next to Langton, was surprised at how nervous he was. He removed his notes from the file and placed them down in front of him. He coughed a couple of times, then tested that the microphone was on.

‘Firstly, thank you for coming,’ he began. ‘I am eager for your assistance. We have always maintained a good relationship with members of the press and with this specific case I must ask you, once more, to stick to the guidelines issued. You are all aware, I believe, that Melissa Stephens’s body has been recovered, after she was declared missing six weeks ago. What we did not know until today, erm … In examining the evidence, we have decided that Melissa’s murder is, we believe, connected to others already under investigation.’ Langton then opened the meeting to questions from the floor.

By the time the press briefing was concluded, it was after half past seven. Langton had given reporters enough, but not all, of the information his team possessed and sidestepped the more probing questions. He was patient and informative, but also guarded. Anna had been impressed by his handling of the situation. Langton disliked using the term ‘serial killer’ and mentioned it only once, but during the questioning the journalists were quick to bring up the Ripper murder case.

After the press had gone, Langton addressed the team, loosening his tie. ‘Right. Tomorrow will come the blast. We’re probably all going to have to work the phones. This will create a lot of extra work, separating the nutters from anyone that has legitimate information. It will take days, maybe weeks. So be prepared. I want everyone in the briefing room at two o’clock. We have a profiler, Professor Michael Parks, coming in. The Gold Group has briefed him and he has had access to all our files for three days now, so let’s hope he can give us something to go on. OK, that’s it for tonight. Get some sleep. It’ll be mayhem tomorrow.’

After packing her briefcase, Anna left the room with Jean. On the stairs, she asked the older woman about Langton’s private life.

‘What do you mean?’ scoffed Jean. ‘He doesn’t have one. He’s a workaholic. First in, last to leave. He hasn’t gone home tonight, you know. He’s gone over to the edit suite to look at the CCTV footage. Poor Mike is pissed off: it’s his wife’s birthday. She’s cooking up a storm and she’s pregnant. He won’t get home now until past eleven.’

‘Does Langton have a wife?’ Anna asked.

Jean stared at her. ‘Oh, that kind of private. Well, he’s had a couple of them; lived with a few women. But who or what he’s doing now, none of us know. That he does keep private.’

‘I see,’ Anna said. She stopped, before heading down the stairs to the back exit and car park.

‘Can I give you a lift, Jean?’

‘No, thanks. My old man is waiting for me.’

‘Goodnight, then.’

Anna couldn’t believe it. Her back bumper was dented. The mini now had a scratch down one side, sticky paper on the windscreen and a crumpled back bumper. Her shiny new car, her pride and joy, saved and scrimped for.

Early next morning, Anna pored over the details of victim six, aged thirty-four. A bleached blonde, with a sexy curvaceous figure and a known cocaine habit, Mary Murphy was a prostitute with no police record. Her body, discovered in July 2003, had made her the most recent victim until Melissa Stephens. Mary was found only three days after her murder on Hampstead Heath. She was originally from Preston in Lancashire. No handbag. Her corpse remained unidentified for two weeks.