Lynda La Plante - Blood Line

Refreshed she rang Paul to say she would pick him up at the station at eight. Paul was waiting outside the station and when he was in the car Anna told him what Langton had asked her to do.

‘Is that why the early-bird call?’ he yawned. ‘I was out until four a.m.’ Paul was unshaven with dark circles beneath his eyes.

‘Good date, was it?’

‘No, but I went to Fire and danced my socks off and had a few too many vodka shots and slingers – that’s when you knock it back neat.’

‘Hung over?’

‘Yeah, a bit. What was Langton’s reaction?’

Anna told him and he listened without his usual interruption. Anna didn’t add that she felt Langton was simply side-stepping the issue of her heading up a murder enquiry. It felt to her as if he was stringing her along, thinking he was giving her time to get over the death of her fiancé, Ken.

‘Langton’s up to his neck,’ Paul said. ‘You heard about the case he’s on – ex-detective finds his wife and son shredded.’

‘Yes, I know about it. I heard him giving a briefing.’

They arrived at Newton Court in Hounslow where Tina Brooks lived and parked up close to her garage so as not to create any problems for the other tenants. As before, the reception area was open and there was a caretaker polishing the floor. He continued working the machine as they headed for flat two.

‘Nobody at home,’ he said, looking towards them.

Anna showed him her ID and asked if he knew the couple living there.

‘By sight, yeah. I wouldn’t say I know them.’

‘What’s your name?’

‘Jonas Jones, ma’am.’

‘You work here regularly, Jonas?’

‘Two days a week. I clean the reception, stairs, and if the tenant is away I collect their mail for them.’

‘How long have you been working here?’

‘Three years. I do all the owner’s places. He’s got three blocks of flats and I check them all out. The bins sometimes are overflowing and the council don’t collect as regular as they used to.’

‘Have you ever found anything suspicious?’

He wrinkled his nose and said he didn’t know what she meant.

‘Well, anything unusual?’

‘Oh no. Just some tenants tie up their rubbish in black bin liners and if they don’t put them in the bins, dogs or cats or whatever can scavenge and rip them open. You’d be surprised, we got foxes around here. Dunno where they come from, but I’ve seen big bushy-tailed ones.’

‘Are you aware that Mr Alan Rawlins has disappeared?’

‘Who?’

‘The tenant of flat two. He lives with his girlfriend, Tina Brooks.’

‘Oh yeah, I know who you mean. I didn’t know he was missing. Where’s he gone?’

Anna smiled and said they were trying to find out. She then asked for details of the other tenants. The caretaker walked over to a small desk and took out a list of names, saying that as he didn’t do cleaning in individual flats he only saw them on odd occasions. There was an elderly Jewish couple in flat three, flats four and five were Iranians and flat six was a single woman.

‘Could you tell me who owns the building?’

‘You mean the landlord?’

‘Yes, the person that owns this building.’

‘Doesn’t live here.’

‘His name and contact number will do.’

‘He’s Iranian. Owns two or three blocks like this one and only ever comes over a couple of times a year. Prefers to live in his beach-front condo in Morocco.’

‘And his name is . . .?’

‘Mr Desai.’

‘What about flat one?’

‘Mr Phillips, youngish bloke, drives a nice Lotus and works in the City.’

‘Is he at home?’

‘I don’t know. I’ve been polishing the floor. I’ll be here for a while as I’m waitin’ on a delivery for Miss Brooks.’

‘What is it?’

‘She ordered new carpet.’

‘But isn’t the flat rented?’

‘Yes, but they are semi-furnished flats, rented with just the necessary. Tenants can bring in whatever else they need.’

They thanked Jonas and went towards flat one as he turned on his polishing machine again.

‘That’s odd, isn’t it?’ Paul said as he rang the doorbell.

When there was no answer, Anna suggested that Phillips was probably at work, and said they should go from flat to flat to see if there was anyone at home. She too thought it was suspicious about the new carpet, but said nothing.

They got no answer from flats four and five either. When they rang the doorbell of flat six there was the sound of a dog yapping. It continued its noise as they pressed the doorbell twice more before it was inched open.

‘Yes?’ The woman’s face was partly hidden.

‘Miss Jewell?’

‘Yes? What do you want?’

Anna showed her ID and introduced herself and Paul. The door closed, the safety chain was unlinked and the door opened wider.

Miss Jewell was no more than forty, but she was frail and very thin. She held a small terrier under her arm with one hand over its mouth as it gave a throttled growl.

‘Has there been a burglary?’

‘No. Could we just talk to you for a moment?’

Miss Jewell reluctantly led them into a beige-coloured sitting room, which had a lot of shabby furniture unlike Tina Brooks’s sparse flat. It was a smaller place in comparison, more like a studio, and, as it was at the top of the block, it had sloping ceilings.

Anna and Paul sat down as the small bedraggled dog was shut in the kitchen; it yapped for a while and then went quiet.

‘Don’t worry about Trigger, he doesn’t bite, but he’s a wonderful guard dog,’ Miss Jewell said as she perched on the edge of a bright green bucket chair. If she sat back any further her legs would have lifted off the ground. Anna and Paul were seated on a sofa covered with blankets and shawls. They explained briefly why they were there and asked if she knew Alan Rawlins.

‘No. I don’t know anyone living here apart from Mr and Mrs Maisell, they’re in flat three. There’s also two families of Iranians, but I don’t talk to them. They’ve only been here about six months.’

‘What about the tenant in flat one?’

‘I have never spoken to him, but he drives a big yellow car which makes a dreadful noise. I have also complained about the cooking smells from the Iranians. I don’t like to cause trouble, but my little flat stinks of their fried fish or whatever they cook down there.’

‘Do you know Tina Brooks who lives in flat two?’

‘Oh, her? Yes, I’ve met her. She pushed some leaflets through my door about special offers at her hairdressing salon. I never used them; put them straight in the bin.’

‘Tell me what you know about her.’

‘Nothing, really. She’s always quite friendly, but I wouldn’t say I’ve ever had a long conversation with her.’

‘And you never met Alan Rawlins?’

‘Not really. I know she had a chap living with her – I obviously have seen him come and go – but I keep myself to myself, apart from Mr and Mrs Maisell. In fact, I just talked to them earlier as they were going to go shopping and they often get my little things that I need. I am registered partially blind as I have tunnel vision. Basically, what that means is I have no peripheral vision and I can only see straight ahead.’

Anna had heard enough. She glanced at Paul and they both stood up.

‘Just one more thing, Miss Jewell: were the carpets provided when you rented?’

‘Yes, throughout, and all the same colour. I think the owner must have got a deal on them as they are apparently the same in all the flats.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Look, we’re not supposed to have pets, but he’s such a good companion and he never does a naughty inside. I take him out first thing to do his business and there have been no complaints about me having him.’