Lynda La Plante: Deadly Intent

Anna again made the journey across London, this time in a patrol car, with sirens blasting. By the time they had been checked through the prison reception, and led along various corridors to wait in a small anteroom, it was after 10 P.M. Langton had a terse conversation with the prison governor, who, as Anna had said, did not approve of a visit at this time of night. They had to wait another fifteen minutes before Honour was brought in.She was wearing a prison-issue nightdress; for a dressing gown, she wore her coat. Her hair was in two braids, the gray parting even more prominent."Sit down, Honour," Langton instructed. "I'll get straight to the reason why we're here. You had a visitor this afternoon. Don't waste our time pretending it was your husband, because we know it wasn't. It was Alexander Fitzpatrick, wasn't it?""Yes," she said, hardly audible."Okay, Honour, it will really help your defense if you now tell us where he is.""I don't know.""You must have talked about where he was going?""No." She had tears in her eyes and chewed at her lips."So, tell me—what you did talk about?"Anna leaned forward and touched Honour's hand, going for a softer approach. "Your husband has been arrested again.""Oh God." She bowed her head."We know Fitzpatrick has Damien's passport, Honour. We also found a large sum of money hidden under the floorboards at the farmhouse."She shook her head, trying not to cry."Did Damien know about this money?""No, no, he didn't. It was for me, for my lawyers, and to help his mother. He said he'd used her savings—had them transferred—so he was concerned about who would look after her.""So Damien didn't know he'd hidden the money," Anna said again, and glanced at Langton."No. I knew he was using Damien's passport; he said he'd taken it out of a drawer in the kitchen. I'm not sure where the money came from.""So he told you all this, Honour, and yet didn't tell you where he was going?""No. I swear to you I have no idea. This is probably why he didn't tell me. I have never known where he was; it was always that way." She started to cry, and searched in her coat pocket for a tissue. "He said the money was not stolen, that it belonged to him, that Julia had given it to him. It's all been her fault.""She's dead, Honour, your sister was murdered. The brakes of her car slashed!""He had nothing to do with that. I know he would not have done that. You keep on making him out to be this monster but he isn't, I know he isn't; she made it impossible for him."Langton slapped the table with the flat of his hand, his patience running out. "You mean impossible to pay for shipping in a fucking cargo of lethal drugs? You need to get yourself straightened out, Mrs. Nolan. You are going to have a lot of time behind bars to come to terms with the fact that you were used.""I was not!" she said angrily."Alexander Fitzpatrick used everyone he came into contact with; either that, or he killed them. You have protected him and you seem prepared to let your husband take responsibility. He'll be charged—""No, please, he was never involved, I swear to you!""So, you care for him, do you?""Yes, of course I do.""But you are prepared to let him take the punishment? He's in the cells right now, Honour. If you say he's innocent, prove it— tell us where Fitzpatrick is." "I don't know, but I do know that Damien was not involved, you have to believe me.""Give me one good reason," Langton said, leaning forward.She cried and twisted the sodden tissue round and round. "You just have to believe me. Alex didn't even want to get me involved, but then that man Julia had got working for her got shot, and Alex was injured ..."Langton snapped bitterly, " 'That man' was an ex-police officer, Honour, a decent hardworking guy who was about to get married; but between you, and that sister of yours, he got drawn into your lover's dirty business.""I'm sorry about him, I am really, but after that happened, it just all spiraled out of control. I only agreed to hide the drugs because he had no one else he could trust.""So whose idea was it to move them to Mrs. Eatwell's?" Anna asked quietly, trying not to get Honour too upset—unlike Langton, whose patience was exhausted."Mine. She called to say the police had been round asking about him. All the time he was there at the cottage, he had told her they had to be moved quickly. He didn't believe that anyone would make the connection. So that's why I did it." She blew her nose and wiped her eyes, then looked up. "You have to understand something: I have loved Alex for many years. I still love him and, you may find it hard to believe, but he loves me."Anna patted her hand again. "I am sure he does, to take such a risk, coming here to see you.""To make sure I will be all right, and his children, and his mother; he's not a bad person."Langton banged back his chair and stood up. "Not a bad person! Tell that to David Rushton's relatives, to Donny Petrozzo's wife, to that boy in Brixton Prison, Adrian Summers—even your sister! Those kids are going to grow up and find out their father killed her. Whatever excuses you give, you are just as despicable as he is. And, I've not even brought up how many people would have died if that Fentanyl had got to be sold on the streets."Langton walked to the door and rapped hard with his knuckles; a female officer was waiting outside. "We're through. Take her back to her cell. She's going to have to get used to sleeping in one.""As long as he is free, I don't care where I am," Honour said defiantly.Langton turned back and pointed. "You think he's out of reach? Think again, Honour. I will get him—then watch the two-faced bastard turn into a sniffling wreck." He stalked out.Anna sat for a moment longer and then she stood up too. Honour gave her a sad look, and then looked down at the damp tissue in her hands. "You don't choose who you love; it's fate. I married Damien because he reminded me of Alex, only to find out just how close he was—his brother. That's fate, isn't it?""I'm sure it is. Is it also fate that your own sister became his mistress? Or was that just to keep it in the family?" She could see the hurt flash across Honour's face. Anna leaned across the table. "If you care anything for Damien, then for God's sake, tell me if you know where Fitzpatrick is.""You know something? I think I would, if I did know, because Damien is a really wonderful person and doesn't deserve this, but I truthfully don't. Alex wouldn't have told me anyway; you see, he lives on secrets. It's what makes him always so unobtainable. I was foolish enough to be satisfied with scraps, until this time; we were going to be together.""But it wasn't going to be you, Honour. Julia was driving to meet him with the children. She was going to meet up with him on the boat.""That's not true! That is not the truth!"Anna turned and walked out toward the waiting prison officer. She left Honour sobbing, but she didn't feel any compassion for her; quite the reverse.Langton was standing by the patrol car, smoking; he turned as she approached. "You get anything from her?""Nope. I don't think she does know.""She made out that Damien was in the clear," he said, stubbing out his cigarette on the ground."Yes, well, I told you that."Langton gave instructions to drive back to the station; again he constantly used his phone to answer and send messages. "Still no sighting, and we've no way of tracing where all that cash came from, as Rushton's dead along with Julia. If it came from her we'll never know," he muttered.Anna remained silent, going over the entire interview with Honour, then she leaned forward and tapped Langton's shoulder. "Where are the children?""Safe house, still with the same au pair and a family liaison officer, plus security. In fact, we're going to have to sort them out, as it's costing the budget. Why do you ask?""Wherever Fitzpatrick is going, I doubt if he'll ever make it back here to the UK.""So?""Well, he sorts out money for his mother, tells Honour it's for his kids and for her to get a decent lawyer; he takes a big risk going to the prison ...""He thrives on risks! Look at the way he came into the station. I think he's kind of crazy ...""Yes, maybe, but it also shows the other side of the monster we rate him as. Do you think it's possible he might try to see his children?"Langton began texting to the station for them to check out the safe house. By the time they were back in the incident room, Phil had already contacted the safe house. There had been no phone calls; the children were well cared for; the Chinese au pair was still in residence. The family liaison officer was still there and a second uniformed officer had been posted; the only contact they had had was a query from the au pair about her wages.Langton suddenly flagged, tired out, and suggested that Anna take off home as well. In the meantime, the night-duty staff would be on call if there was any sighting of Fitzpatrick. They were instructed to contact Langton if they received any news.Anna had poured herself a very tepid, stale cup of coffee, and was sitting on the edge of a desk talking to Phil, when the place lit up.In a flurry of calls, they had three separate sightings of a man fitting the description of Alexander Fitzpatrick. A man had been seen at Pad-dington Station heading for the Heathrow Express. The train moved out four minutes later. A man had also been seen boarding the Eurostar train at St. Pancras. A third man was being held by Gatwick security guards; he admitted that he was Alexander Fitzpatrick.The latter they were able to dismiss quickly, as he was only five foot four. The second proved to also be a mistake, but they had not, as yet, got any further details on the Heathrow Express sighting. However, the airport security guards were waiting.Phil was red-eyed from tiredness. Anna offered to stay on, but he said he would keep going and suggested that she go home, so at least one of them would be fresh for the next day.As she walked through the station, Anna hesitated, passing the stairs that led down to the cells; she told herself to keep on walking out but something made her turn back and head down.There were four old-fashioned holding cells, only two of which were occupied; one by a very drunk and morose teenager, the other by Damien Nolan.The night-duty officer looked surprised to see her; he was sitting at his post, reading the evening paper."Everything okay?" Anna asked."Yeah, well, the drunk kid is a pain in the arse, cleaning up after him puking; he's made the place stink.""And Mr. Nolan?""He was reading—I let him have a book from the ones we get left lying around. Seems a very nice bloke.""Has he eaten?""Yes, sausage and chips and a cup of tea."Anna looked at the closed cell door and then asked for it to be opened.Damien was lying on the bunk bed reading, even though there was only a dim ceiling light on. He put the book aside and smiled. "I would never have believed it—Barbara Cartland!"Anna laughed, although she felt very uncomfortable, even more so when he stood up and put his hand out to shake hers. She told him tosit down. "I went to see Honour this evening, to take the holdall with her clothes and wash bag.""Thank you. Is she all right?""Yes, she's fine.""Do you think you could get me some writing paper and a pen? I'd like to get a letter to her.""Sorry—but your solicitor will be here first thing."He sat farther back on the bunk bed, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He was wearing the same clothes she had last seen him in."Did she know where Alex had run off to?""No.""Well, I hope you find him. It's about time he paid for all the trouble he has caused.""Bit more than trouble," she said, hovering at the door, wanting to go but wanting to say more."Thank you for coming to see me. I take it, I hope correctly, that you believe me about the money and passport.""Yes, I believe you.""Good."She changed the subject. "Do you think your brother cares for the children?""I don't know," he said, shaking his head, bemused."Maybe he never really cared for anyone," she said quietly."He did, but circumstances were always hard for him. I know he loved Honour, as much as he could love anyone.""What about Julia?""Same applies—but neither woman could ever be more important than number one."Anna wondered if she should tell him that Fitzpatrick had visited Honour, but she decided against it. "Good night.""I meant what I said to you at the farmhouse," Damien told her. "When this is all over, I'd really like to see you. Would you mind if I called you?"She flushed and turned away from him. "Good night," she repeated, and left.Anna felt uneasy as she walked to her car. She knew she should not have visited Damien, but she found him a very attractive man. It wasn't like her friendship with Pete, or even Langton; in fact, Langton had already become part of her past. This was something else: an unexplained emotion that she was not able to deal with, but it still sat inside her. She wanted to know him better, but realized it was not only unethical, but also unprofessional.She drove home and, without any hitches with her garage door, without any food in her fridge, without really wanting to be at home alone, went to bed. It was just after four in the morning when she was woken by her phone ringing.She was disorientated for a moment, as she had been so deeply asleep. It was Langton: they had a firm sighting of Alexander Fitzpatrick, following through on the Heathrow Express sighting. The security forces at the airport had been put on alert, monitoring everyone alighting from the trains. When he was not recognized, they were about to call it off, but had then spotted a man fitting his description caught on CCTV cameras, heading from the short-stay car park into the airport at Terminal 3. They had alerted all terminals to check for anyone using the name Damien Nolan; as yet, he had not been traced, but could have already got a ticket via an online booking, so they were upping the security checks made at the various gates.By the time Anna joined Langton at Heathrow, three hours had passed. He was depressed and annoyed that they still did not have him. Anna asked to see the CCTV footage; although it was not in good condition, and very fuzzy, she agreed that the man seen heading from the car park among a group of backpackers was Fitzpatrick. Two of the backpackers had been tracked down and, when shown the photograph, said that the man could have been him—but were not 100 percent sure.It was frustrating, and not helped by Langton's irritation. "He's in the fucking airport!" he kept on muttering.Anna, along with two security guards, sat in the office, surveying the screens covering all the terminals, the baggage claim, and the entry gates to the flights. There were so many passengers milling around, andthey still had no verification as to which flight he could be taking. All they could do was wait as the checks continued."He's bloody hard to miss, at six feet four. It doesn't make sense; if he was coming here to get on a flight, he has to have a ticket or they won't let him through the barrier."Anna accepted some coffee, still watching the CCTV footage, and then she exclaimed, "There he is—camera four! He's by the escalator. It's him!"Langton leaned forward as the security guards used radio contact to warn the officers on the floor."He's heading down the escalator," she said, standing up."Where does it go?" snapped Langton."Out to the tube station, and level one; he could also take the lift down to the car park.""Let's go!"By the time they reached the escalator, there were uniformed officers and airport security everywhere; they had already checked the floor below, but had no luck. They were now spreading out back inside the car park at levels one and two; they were even heading back up the escalator, in case he had turned around.Langton was getting into a real temper. Fitzpatrick could, he said, have bought a ticket online at any one of the booths. Anna disagreed: he would have to have a credit card in the name of the passport holder, Damien Nolan—-he would not be allowed on the plane with different names on his passport and ticket."Of course he could! If I wanted to buy a ticket for you, I could pay on my credit card or in cash and give your name as the passenger.""Then the computers will give us the details. If he's on any flight leaving, they'll pick him up."But they had no verification of any passenger using a passport in the name of Damien Nolan. By the time they had hurried from one end of the airport to the other, used the escalators, and even checked out the short-stay car park, the pair of them were not only exhausted, but beginning to think they had lost him. Anna had even listed the entire catalog of aliases known to have been used by Fitzpatrick, but they had not come up on any computer.They eventually made their way back to the security section, and stood in the darkened room, glancing from one screen to another."You're sure it was him?" Langton said quietly."Well, I can't be one hundred percent sure. It looked like him—the right height; draped coat ...""Christ, you're now saying you're not sure?""Yes! All I said was I thought it was him—but why would he be going down the escalator, back to his car?"Anna moved away from Langton and asked for one of the officers to replay the section again. She waited for him to get the right tape and scroll it through. It had now been over an hour, and no result."Stop there—back a fraction." She watched the man she had said was Fitzpatrick; her heart was beating rapidly as she stared at the screen. Slowly walking into frame, but with his back to camera was the man: he carried one small holdall and, under his left arm, what looked like a folder. "Freeze it there."Anna leaned closer, asking if they could enlarge the section with the folder. It seemed to take forever, but it was only a few seconds, as gradually the area she wanted to see was magnified. His arm mostly covered the folder."Can you make out anything?"The officer stared at the screen; both he and Anna had their heads bent sideways to try to read the few words visible."It's a navigation file. I can see the logo: air traffic control ," the officer said.Anna, trying to keep her voice steady, asked if the private sector had an office within the terminal."They have to get permission from this terminal if they are using a private plane, but that airstrip is on the other side of the main runways. We can contact them to halt any plane leaving."Anna told him to get onto it straightaway, and grabbed Langton's arm. "He's heading for the private airstrip. He'd need a car to drive there."Within seconds, they had confirmation that an Anthony Collingwood had been given permission to fly out from the airstrip where the private planes were housed in hangars. They were driven in one of the airports passenger cars, used for transporting the elderly or disabled to the gates. It was frustrating that it could only go at five miles per hour, but they had a blue light flashing to clear their way to the main exit.The patrol car was already in position and, with sirens blasting, they headed out to the private sector. They could see in the distance the small planes lined up; one was already taxiing down the airstrip as the fuel tanker moved away.Langton was beside himself, shouting at the driver to go faster, but they had to maneuver around the lines of traffic pulling up to drop passengers off at departures and arrivals. Anna hung on in the backseat as the patrol car swerved and, with tires screeching, drove out of the main exit gates from Terminal 3. They made up some time by using a road blocked off for repairs and smacked through a barrier to get onto the slip road leading to the hangars.Langton was using the radio microphone to instruct the air traffic controllers to halt the plane that they could see moving slowly down the airstrip, and turning into position, ready to head onto the runway. The sound was very distorted by the roar of overhead flights and their car siren. Langton was shouting instructions, asking if they had information on the plane and pilot. He was so stressed out, Anna thought he would have a heart attack. It was reported back that there was no passenger fitting the description."He's fucking flying the thing himself! Did anyone, anyone, get information that the bastard had a pilot's license? Jesus wept!"By the time they entered the airfield, there were numerous security officials running around like headless chickens but they could only watch helplessly as the plane continued to taxi toward the runway, ready for takeoff. Anna was trying to listen to an official on her mobile, but again it was hardly audible."Keep driving—get onto the airfield!" Langton instructed, and the driver, with his accelerator foot pressed to the floor, sirens screaming, chased the twin-engine Piper plane.The patrol car was catching up as the plane completed its curved journey onto the straight airstrip ready for takeoff."Keep going! Try and cut across him!" Langton shouted. He still had the car radio and it crackled as the distorted voice fed details of the flight's destination: Spain.Anna couldn't make out what they were saying to her, and kept on asking them to speak up, but they now had the plane literally within a hundred yards ahead of them and they could hear the engines revving up. Langton again said to drive across the nose of the plane to force it to stop, when Anna eventually heard what they were telling her from the control tower: there were two young children on board."No, no! Don't cut across the plane, he's got the children on board!"They were so close they could see the small faces at the window. Their patrol-car driver slammed on the brakes; Langton shouted for him to keep going. Anna screamed that it was too much of a risk and instructed the driver to stop the car. He did so with a hideous protest from the brakes. Then it was all over: the plane roared down the runway and lifted off.They sat in stunned silence, apart from the sound of the disappearing plane, and the security trucks screeching up behind them. It was too late.Anna watched Langton get out and stand, staring upward to the plane, his coat flapping in the tailwind. He shaded his eyes, still staring skyward as the sun broke through clouds and bathed them in the early morning glow. When he eventually turned back to their patrol car, his face was white and his jaw set in a rigid line. He got back into the car, slamming the door hard.Anna swallowed, her nerves ragged, and she was shaking as Langton, in an icy-cold voice, gave the driver instructions to head to the safe house where Emily and Kathy had been staying. He radioed for backup to be there waiting for them.They found the female liaison officer, thankfully alive, but bound with torn sheets. The uniformed officer was shut inside a cupboard; he had a deep bruise to his cheek and a bleeding cut over his temple. Fitzpatrick had done it again; he had shown a fake ID to the duty officer, who had allowed him entry to the house. The family liaison officer had been in bed in the room next to the two children. Mai Ling had given the game away. As she had been woken by Kathy crying, on seeing Fitzpatrick she had started to scream. Fitzpatrick had slapped her into silence, and then grabbed the liaison officer. Mai Ling had been forced to help him tie her up. When the uniformed officer walked in, as he had heard the screaming, he was hit over the head by Fitzpatrick. Although he tried to fend him off, Fitzpatrick had punched him in the face and dragged him into the cupboard. It had taken only fifteen minutes.Mai Ling had run—whether or not he had given her money, no one knew—but he had calmly packed the children's toys and clothes and walked out. He was using a hire car, and had driven to the airport. He had not, as they had suspected, used the Heathrow Express. The sighting there was a mistake.The family liaison officer was very distressed; she kept on repeating that it wasn't her fault. Anna tried to comfort her, but Langton was bitterly angry and almost abusive.They waited for backup to take over and get their statements of the abduction.As they drove back to the station, it was by now ten o'clock in the morning. Langton remained so angry he was unapproachable. Although they had confirmarion of the route and destination of Fitzpatrick's plane, they knew it would be difficult to get him picked up, as they doubted he would stick to landing in Spain. They did, however, contact the Spanish authorities, with orders to arrest the pilot and retain the children. They had no confirmation that the plane had landed.The incident room was full of the entire team. They were quiet, aware of the morning's debacle. Langton gave them a curt briefing about what had taken place. He said he was still hopeful they would get details of where Fitzpatrick was landing. He also said that it was a very wretched situation that no one had discovered that Fitzpatrick not only owned aprivate plane, but was also a qualified pilot: in other words, the man had covered all possibilities, from the boat to the plane, for yet another escape. They would all look like incompetent, unprofessional idiots. Langton looked directly at Anna when he said it, and she flushed.As the team prepared to continue packing up the case ready for the trials, Langton, with Phil, reinterviewed Damien Nolan. The latter was released from custody without any charges. Anna did not see him, as she was writing up the report from the airport.Gordon tapped on her door, and peered in."We're not going to get much information from all this money," he said. "It may have come from Julia, but without Kushton, it's impossible to trace its source. The Fraud Squad have taken over investigating it, so it's out of our hands."Anna made no reply. She nodded her head, eager for him to leave."Did you see him?"She looked up."Fitzpatrick," Gordon prompted."For a brief second, yes.""What was he like?""I don't know, Gordon. I never spoke to him."He nodded and then grinned. saying, "I'd have liked to have seen him. He's something else, isn't he? I mean, I know there's a slew of dead bodies down to him, but at the same time you can't help admiring his bottle.""Maybe, but I have no admiration for a man whose sole intent was releasing millions of pounds' worth of lethal drugs to live in luxury .. .""I know that, and I didn't mean I admired what he was doing, but you have to admit he was bloody audacious.""Yes, Gordon, he was. Now, will you excuse me?" "Oh, right ...yes. I've really enjoyed working with you, Anna. I've learned a lot from you, and I hope we work on another case together. "She gave a brittle smile." Yes, Gordon. Thank you. He closed the door. She physically jumped with nerves when Langton walked into her office a few seconds later. He stared at her. "We could have stopped the plane," he said quietly."But the risk, and with two children on board ...""If he went to that much trouble to take them, he wouldn't have endangered their lives. It's another side to him, Travis; he wanted his kids, and he took them, and we had to bloody watch him go!""I'm sorry. I didn't know if you'd seen their faces at the window.""Yes, I fucking saw them!" he snapped.Anna didn't know what to say. She sat with her head bowed."I've warned you, Anna. You are already on report; now I'm going to really make you sit up and learn a lesson. I am going to have you back doing traffic.""I never did traffic.""Then it's about time you did! You are unprofessional and headstrong; you have to buckle down or give in your notice."She wanted to cry, but she refused to allow herself to show even an indication to him of what she felt."You got anything to say?""No. I believe I acted with caution.""You overrode my instructions and gave the driver orders to stop the patrol car. You have constantly disobeyed instructions and worked solo throughout this investigation. This is not something I am treating lightly—for the simple reason I believe you do have a future, and you are an exceptionally intuitive and clever officer—but policing is working with a team, and you need to understand that, because this is not the first time since I have worked with you that you have trodden a very dangerous line.""Yes, sir.""That's all." He stood looking at her for a brief moment, and then walked out. He didn't slam the door this time, but closed it softly.She couldn't control herself. Her face puckered like a child's and she wept.Anna would not be joining the team for a drink; she couldn't. Instead, she packed up her office and handed in her report. She felt that everyone knew she was in trouble, as they gave her furtive looks.Phil obviously knew, as he put his arm around her shoulders. It made her feel worse. "Sorry if things look a bit bleak right now.""Yes, well, somebody had to take the flak for all the screwups; I guess it's me.""Come and have a drink.""No, thank you. I'm not in that great a mood.""Pete's coming."She said nothing, wanting to get out as fast as possible.As she got to her Mini, Pete was just parking his Morgan. He called over to her. "Hello, stranger! You coming for a wind-down drink?"She shook her head, as she felt the tears welling up again. "Nope, I'm heading home. I've been up since four this morning."He laughed and ruffled her hair. She always hated it when men did that and she turned her head away."Hey, come on, ease up. Have a drink, you'll feel better. Mind you, if I was in your shoes, I'd be wanting to tie a real load on.""What do you mean by that?" she said angrily."Well, I hear you lost him—flew over your heads!" Again he laughed.She wished she could also find some humor in the whole mess, but she couldn't. She turned back to open the car door."Anna." He moved close, putting his hand on her arm. "You know he'll get copped someday. They may even get him wherever he lands so, come on—have a drink and then you and I can go back to my place.""No, Pete.""Come on, I know how you must feel."She looked into his friendly face, and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "No, you don't. I think we should keep some space, maybe I'll call you sometime."He stepped back, hurt. "Sometime? Well, that's a slap in the face. I've really tried with you, Anna, but forget sometime. I'm losing patience, so don't bother calling me at all."He walked away. She knew she should have gone after him, but she didn't have the energy. The truth was, she didn't want to take their relationship any further. It was over, probably before it had really begun.Anna felt really low when she walked into her still-half-furnished flat. Her bed was as unmade as she had left it, and she sat on the edge, feeling depressed and scared. She knew Langton would go through with his threats, and she was unsure how she would be able to deal with it. She flopped back, closing her eyes. She wondered what her beloved father would think of it all, and that made her tearful again.Then her old fighting spirit woke up, and she forced herself to get up, undress, and take a shower. If Langton threw the book at her, she'd throw it back—she had more secret weapons than anyone else. She would defend her decision at the airport, because it was a risk to have attempted to stop the plane; not just a risk but a very dangerous one. They could all have been killed; she felt that her decision was the correct one.The more she thought about how she would approach the situation, the better she felt. If it came down to it, she would bring up what she knew about Langton. If anyone's career should be in jeopardy, then it was his. She was not going to take the flak for everyone else's fuckups, and there had been many in this case. In fact, she had instigated the connection from day one to Alexander Fitzpatrick. She began to feel more positive, knowing just how much of the case had been directed by her.Showered, and wearing just a towel wrapped around her, she opened a bottle of wine. All the time her brain was working through exactly how she had joined the dots, how she had pieced the jigsaw together. She was not going down without a fight. She felt a whole lot better after two glasses; she also felt hungry, as she hadn't eaten all day. She really fancied a BLT but she had no bacon, no bread, no lettuce, and no mayo; just thinking of it made her mouth water. Then her phone rang.She hesitated to answer it. If it was Langton she wasn't ready to talk to him, and if it was Pete she didn't want to speak to him. She let it ring.It clicked onto her answer phone."Hello, Anna, this is Damien. I suppose you know I was released today and I was hoping I'd get to speak to you."She sipped her wine, staring down at the answer machine."I was just wondering ... I didn't go back to the farm and ... well, as you are not home, there's no point—but I just would have liked to have seen you."Anna knew she shouldn't, but she couldn't resist it. She picked up the phone. "I am at home and I would like to see you, and also want to know how you got my home number.""Ah! Don't think of me as some crazed stalker, but an ex-student of mine lives in the same block of flats. James Fullford drives a very expensive car, lives in flat 2B, do you believe in coincidences?""Not really ..."She loved the sound of his voice and the way he gave a soft laugh when she asked if he could stop by a grocery store, as she wanted him to make her a BLT. He said he could take her out to dinner, but she said that was what she really fancied. She had about an hour in which to wash her hair, make up her face, and get dressed. Damien Nolan was deeply involved in the investigation; he was also married to the woman who would be standing trial for assisting Alexander Fitzpatrick to store drugs, and who might even have helped his escape. But there had been something about Damien she had sensed from the first moment she had seen him. She was being both unethical and unprofessional, but it made her feel good.Anna Travis was growing up. Whether or not she would learn from her mistakes, only time would tell. All she did know was, at long last, James Langton had no hold over her. On the contrary, they would, she knew, have to face each other out, and she intended to do that, but she also needed someone in her life. If it were to be Damien Nolan, she would take the risk; if it proved an unwise decision, then so be it.