Lynda La Plante - Blood Line

‘Her fiancé goes missing and she’s too busy to see us. The more I hear about her, the less I like her.’

‘Maybe she’s seen the dark side?’ Paul said smiling, but Anna was not amused. Instead she told him they should head straight there. She felt tired and decided she would take off home later, after making up the reports with Paul in their incident room.

‘Make up a report? But we don’t have a case,’ Paul said as he drove.

‘Nevertheless we’ll need to show what the hell we’ve been doing all day. Besides, Langton will want to know.’

‘Whatever you say, ma’am. He’s knee-deep in a big case – double murder in North London.’

She made no reply, instead brushed away the crumbs from their picnic lunch and wrapped their napkins into the small deli bag Julian had provided. She tossed it into a rubbish bin as they pulled up in a small car park attached to Tina’s Beauty Salon. She remarked that it wasn’t a very artistic title and the large neon eye coated in eye-shadow and false lashes was tacky.

The salon was surprisingly well-equipped. A section was given over to hairdressing, then there was a row of booths for manicures and pedicures. Another section, separated by white screens, was the massage and therapy area and there was a small staircase to the floor above with a sauna, sunbeds and spray-tanning room. A notice informed them that the sunbeds were out of order. The place was jumping. Four women sat under dryers, a girl was blowdrying a customer’s hair and another was having her hair washed at the row of sinks.

‘Well, she said she was busy,’ Paul murmured as they stood by a small reception desk. The receptionist was a girl with a fake tan, a mound of hair extensions and thick false eyelashes. It also looked as if she’d had breast implants. Her pink Tina’s Salon overall hardly met across her bust, colliding with her name embroidered over the pocket – Felicity.

‘Could you ask Tina if we could see her, please?’ Anna showed her warrant card, not that it made much of a difference.

‘Do you have an appointment?’

‘We do.’

Felicity dragged a fake nail down the customer lists.

‘Just go and tell her we would like to talk to her,’ Anna ordered.

‘I can’t leave the desk and she’s doing a wrap so I can’t interrupt her for another ten minutes.’

Anna was not sure what a wrap meant, but Felicity continued, explaining it was a seaweed wrap and would be finished shortly. She then indicated a row of pink plastic-covered gilt chairs.

‘You can wait there.’

They were only two feet away from the reception; it looked as if every inch of the place was taken up with all the various beauty treatments. As Anna and Paul sat down the girl offered the salon’s brochure and said there were several offers at half-price.

‘Do you know her boyfriend, Alan?’ Anna asked as she pretended to scrutinise the treatments on offer.

‘Yes, we all do and it’s just terrible. Poor Tina has been in such a state about it.’ Her pink desk phone rang and Felicity picked up, speaking in an over-modulated posh accent.

‘Tina’s Beauty Salon, can I help you?’

Anna and Paul listened as she made an appointment for hair extensions and learned that it would take at least four hours if it was to remove the present extensions; it would take longer if the caller required new ones.

Anna glanced at Paul, but he seemed enthralled by Felicity’s ongoing conversation.

‘If we didn’t actually put your extensions in for you, you should come in and have the hair matched. We only use real hair. No, there would be no charge for that, but is what you’ve got in real hair?’

The row of customers waiting for their cuts and blowdries began to thin out; the two girls were working as if they were on a factory floor. The thudding music, now on an Abba compilation, continued.

‘I’ll book you in for an afternoon then. What’s your name?’ Then Felicity looked at the pink phone in fury. ‘I don’t believe she hung up! Honestly!’

‘Could you please ask Tina to join us?’ Anna said testily.

‘I can’t. It’s a seaweed wrap and you can’t leave it half-done.’

Anna stood up and pointed to the partition. ‘Is she behind there?’

‘No, upstairs, but you can’t go through, it’s a private consultation.’ Felicity moved from her stool and put her hand up. ‘I’ll go and ask her to come out, all right?’ She left.

Paul glanced over to the hairdressing section, remarking, ‘She must be coining it in.’

Anna nodded to a card on Felicity’s desk. ‘It’s half-price day and a few of the customers look like pensioners; they get a discount as well.’

Tina came down the stairs at the rear of the salon, wearing latex gloves that looked as if they were covered in mud, and a rubber apron. She didn’t look very pleased to see them.

‘I’ll be with you in ten minutes – I’m with a client.’ She didn’t wait for an answer, but returned upstairs. Felicity asked if they would like a tea or coffee.

‘We’ve got a little rest room right at the back by the stairs,’ she said, ‘and there’s a coffee machine. Just help yourselves.’

Little was the operative word. It was more or less a corner with more screens, a couple of chairs and a table with coffee cups and mugs and packets of biscuits. A girl in one of Tina’s pink overalls was standing eating a sandwich and brewing up coffee. She turned as Anna and Paul sat down on the chairs.

‘Excuse me, I’ve not had a break today. I was starving and my lady’s under the dryer.’ She had a mouth full of her sandwich and wiped it with the back of her hand. ‘Do you want a coffee?’

‘No, thank you. We’re waiting for Tina.’

‘Okay. Busy today since nine this morning. I had two perms—’

‘What’s your name?’ Anna interrupted.

‘Donna.’ The girl bit into her sandwich again.

Anna showed her warrant card and introduced herself and Paul. It had little effect as Donna was now making herself a mug of coffee, stuffing the remains of her lunch into her mouth.

‘Is this about Alan?’

‘Yes. Do you know him?’

Donna turned and nodded. ‘We all do – well, we know who he is, but . . .’ She lowered her voice and moved closer. ‘What’s going on? Tina told us he left her. She was in a terrible state.’

‘Did he come to the salon?’

‘No, but he used to pick her up sometimes and wait outside in the car park. I think we all scared the pants off him. We used to have a couple of guys working here, but they didn’t fit in.’

Tina walked in now minus the gloves and rubber apron, but with her pink salon smock.

‘Donna, your customer is taking her own rollers out!’

‘Sorry, sorry, but I never got lunch.’ She scurried out and Tina crossed to the coffee percolator.

‘I did say I was very busy and for you to come later. I couldn’t leave my client; these wraps have to be done correctly. I’m training one of the girls, but I’m the only one really qualified. You have to layer the thick seaweed emulsion, then do a complete body wrap, but not too tight because the heat makes the seaweed dry. You lose a few pounds all over; it’s a very good treatment.’

Tina poured herself a mug of coffee and then leaned on the table. ‘Have you any news?’

‘No, I am afraid not. Have you had any contact from Alan?’

‘No. To be honest, I’ve been working really hard and it’s the best thing for me – helps me not think about it – but I’ve had to get sleeping tablets. Every time the phone rings my heart jumps. I had to tell his father to stop calling me – he was driving me crazy.’

‘We’ve talked to a few of Alan’s friends, but nobody has seen him for quite a while. I really wanted to ask you about something you said – that there could have been another woman.’