Above Suspicion (Anna Travis Mysteries Book 1)

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Above Suspicion (Anna Travis Mysteries Book 1) Page 33

by Lynda La Plante


  “My gov would go crazy if I told you.”

  “He’s only jealous.”

  “Oh, I doubt that.” She gave a soft laugh. “I have to go now, Alan.”

  “Good-bye, then.” He hung up abruptly.

  Barolli was at his desk, mouth full of bacon sandwich, when Anna rang. She told him she’d had contact.

  “Shit, where are you?” he swallowed.

  “I’m at Sainsbury’s on the Edgware Road. In the car park. He wanted to meet me but I told him I was at Tesco and I had to get home to let someone in to fix my dishwasher. So he knows I’ll be home.”

  “Listen, let me get back to you. You just carry on and I’ll talk to the gov.”

  “OK.” She cut off the call.

  Barolli called Langton’s flat.

  “He’s not bloody answering,” he said to Moira.

  “But he must have got home by now.”

  “Yeah I know, but maybe he was so shagged out, he’s not hearing the phone. Let’s hope he picks up his mobile.” Barolli tried the two numbers for another few minutes and then redialed Anna.

  “Travis? I can’t get hold of the gov. He doesn’t live far from you. Can you call in before you head home and give him an update?”

  “Wait a minute.” Anna jotted down Langton’s address.

  She had often wondered where he lived. She was about to find out. She continued toward Kilburn. Once she found his street, to the left off Kilburn High Road, she drove along slowly, looking for the right number.

  Anna climbed the front steps of number 175 and rang one of the unmarked bells. A female voice answered.

  “Who’s there?”

  “My name is Anna Travis. Is this James Langton’s flat?” She did not mention his rank for security reasons. She also knew many police officers didn’t like neighbors knowing their line of work.

  She was in luck. The heavy front door buzzed open. She entered a rather run-down hallway and looked up the stairs.

  “Come on up. It’s the second floor, door to the right,” said the voice. Anna walked through the open door to the flat and into the sitting room.

  “It’s Anna Travis. Hello?”

  The room was fairly dark, though a lamp on a side table was turned on. Anna took in the rather shabby furniture, the heaps of newspapers and files, and noticed a racing bicycle propped up against a bookcase.

  A blonde wearing a bathrobe and slippers was drying her hair with a towel. She was curvaceous and tall, at least five nine. Even without a scrap of makeup on, Anna could see she was stunning.

  “Hi. Sorry I couldn’t get to the door, but I was stark naked. He’s on the phone. He knows you’re here.”

  “It’s quite urgent,” Anna said.

  “I’m Nina Davis. I’m your commander’s DI.” She reached out to shake Anna’s hand. She had a strong grip; neat, clear-varnished nails. Anna avoided looking into the woman’s wide blue eyes.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you. You want to sit down? He should just be a moment.”

  “No, thank you.”

  Anna was able to hear Langton on the telephone, from what she presumed was the bedroom.

  “What time did he call her? Is there a surveillance report? Is he still at Queen’s Gate? And the phone tap is in place? Good, yes. So, he’s not moved out? What? She said what? Give me Mike Lewis’s home number, will you?”

  Nina was rubbing her damp hair. “He hasn’t been home long. Do you want a coffee or something to drink? I’ve just made a fresh pot and—”

  “No, thanks,” Anna answered abruptly. “From what I can hear, he already knows what I was going to tell him. So I’ll go.”

  There was a bellow from the bedroom: “Travis!”

  Nina leaned against the bedroom door frame. “She says she’s going.”

  “Just stay put a second, Travis,” Langton shouted. Nina gave a shrug of her shoulders and disappeared into the bathroom.

  Anna was pretty shaken. It wasn’t nerves at the unexpected call from Daniels: she found the presence of the blonde upsetting. She had not considered that Langton could be living with anyone, let alone another officer.

  Langton was wearing a tatty old dressing gown.

  “So, the bastard called you. Tell me exactly what he said. I’ve only had it secondhand from Barolli.”

  “He started to ask me about McDowell. Said he’d read it in the papers. I was getting a bit jumpy because he said he wasn’t far away and could meet me at the car park. I’m not sure where he is now.”

  Langton rubbed his eyes.

  “I’ve just checked. He’s at home. Listen, stay cool. We’ll know if he makes a move and you’ve got a watchdog at your place.”

  “What do I do if he calls me again and wants to come over?”

  “Keep him talking. Give him what we discussed, no more, but don’t let him come and see you. Make any excuse.”

  “But if you’ve got people on him and I’ve got a guy outside, then why not?”

  “Because I say so, Travis.”

  “Yes, sir. But if he called on my mobile once, he can call me on it again.”

  “If your mobile rings, don’t answer. We want him to use the land line—that way we can monitor him. You do not agree to let him come and see you, is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He cocked his head to one side. “You all right?”

  “I’m fine, thank you.” She looked down, trying to avoid looking at him.

  He suddenly reached out and cupped her chin in his hand.

  “Just be straight with me. Do you want me with you?”

  “No, no, I don’t.” She jerked her face away from his hand. “Besides, you seem to be…”

  “I seem to be what?”

  “Nothing. Say good-bye to Nina for me. It was nice to meet her. G’night.”

  He turned away, checking his watch. She closed his door and left. She sat in her car for a while to calm herself down.

  “It’s none of your business who he lives with,” she muttered. It was not as if he even tried to hide the fact from her. He’d said he liked blondes and he’d certainly got himself one, plus a direct line to the commander. Anna put the car in gear with some irritation, wondering if anyone else knew about how close he was to Nina, including the commander.

  Barolli put the phone down. “Travis went round to the gov’s place,” he said to Moira. “Now he’s double-checking everyone’s up to speed! I don’t like this. We should just arrest the bastard.”

  “Is he worried about Anna? Thinks maybe Daniels’ll try and get to her, is that it?” Moira asked, sitting on the edge of his desk.

  “It’s what he’s bloody hoping for, Moira.”

  She looked at her fingernails. “He’s playing head games. Langton should watch it. According to the profiler, that Daniels bastard is a master at it! What did he want Mike Lewis’s home number for?”

  Anna forced herself to stow away the groceries. Then she took out a bowl and mixed three eggs with some grated cheese. As she was adding a little butter to the frying pan, her mobile rang. She knew her voice mail would kick in, so she let it ring: five times. When it stopped, she turned on the hob and put the pan over the burner. Her mobile started ringing. She ignored it, scrambling the eggs and melting the cheese in. The mobile rang again, then twice more. She continued to ignore it. She opened a drawer, took out a fork and picked up her plate.

  She ate only a couple of mouthfuls but was unable to face any more. Wearily, she dialed her voice mail: seven missed calls, no messages, caller ID withheld.

  Two more calls came in while she was watching television; her mobile phone was in the kitchen. She recalled what Michael Parks had said. Her response would drive Daniels to distraction as he was unable to take control of the situation. Nothing on the TV could take her mind off it.

  She picked up her plate again, then almost dropped it when the land line rang. After a moment, she answered it.

  It was Langton. “Has he called again?”

  �
�Nine times, on the mobile. Caller ID withheld.”

  There was a pause.

  “It shows he’s worried about calling you on the land line. You told him you would be at home, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “OK. He must be getting really pissed off. Well, we just sit it out. Good night.”

  “Good night.”

  Anna went to check every window and the front door twice, to satisfy herself she was properly locked in. Then she returned to the lounge and waited nervously. They were using McDowell as a decoy and now they were using her as the bait.

  “He’s using me, the bastard,” she muttered, rubbing her head. Actually, they were both using her, Langton and Daniels, just for different reasons.

  Langton asked the officers outside Daniels’s flat to verify the target was still at home. They ascertained that no one had seen him leave; all the lights were on. Langton insisted they go further: one of them should question the tenants in the basement flat to make sure there was no possible way he could have left unseen.

  The officers crossed the road from their patrol car and rang the basement doorbell. It was opened on a link chain and a young girl peered out. After a couple of minutes’ conversation, one of the officers followed her inside. When he returned to the car, he told the other: “Daniels might have climbed out the back way; you get to the mews over a flat roof. She said she’d done it once when she left her keys at work. She said his flat is an easier climb.”

  Langton went ballistic. He instructed the officer to make damned sure Daniels was home by going up to his flat to find out.

  Lewis came on the line after a few minutes. “You were right. Climbed over the roof. He’s in a taxi; we’re at Marble Arch. I’m right on his tail.”

  “Stay in touch,” said Langton. “I’ll be waiting.”

  “Will do.” Lewis cut off the call.

  Moira raised her eyebrows as Barolli slammed down the phone, fuming. “This is bloody ridiculous! The bloody surveillance officers had to knock on his frigging door to find out if he was still at home! And guess what? Nobody answered!”

  “Wasn’t there anyone out the back?”

  “There was supposed to be.”

  At that moment, Langton, wearing a tracksuit with the hood pulled up, jogged round the corner into Anna’s street. He went to sit in the unmarked car waiting opposite Anna’s block of flats.

  When Anna’s mobile phone rang, she counted it as the tenth time. After five rings, it went to voice mail. This time, however, no sooner had it stopped ringing than her land line rang. Feeling a kind of dread, she slowly reached for the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Anna.”

  “Alan.”

  “Don’t you answer your mobile phone?”

  “I must have let the batteries run too low. Why? Have you been trying to contact me?”

  “Doesn’t matter. Did the washing-machine repairman come?”

  “It was the dishwasher and yes he did, thanks.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m just about to have a bath. I need an early night.”

  “Have you eaten?”

  “Yes, I made some scrambled eggs.”

  “So, you wouldn’t like to have dinner with me?”

  “I’d really like to, Alan, but it can’t be tonight. It’s very late.”

  “You’re breaking my heart, you know that?” His voice had become seductive. “I keep on remembering that kiss…the moment when it was happening and you were in my arms. Was it as special for you?”

  She hesitated. “Yes.”

  “Thank God for that.” He laughed lightly. “I hoped I wasn’t making a fool of myself. When do you next have time off?”

  “I don’t have my schedule with me. It’s all quite hyper at the moment.”

  “Oh, right, the arrest of McDowell. Has he been charged?”

  “Yes, he was in court this morning.”

  “Charged with the murders?”

  “Yes, not all of them. We don’t have the evidence for all of them. You’re doing it again, Alan. You know I’m not supposed to talk about this.”

  “Now you’re being silly.”

  “Sorry?”

  “You don’t have to be that way with me. I knew one of the victims rather intimately. Of course I would be interested.”

  “I’m sorry, Alan. I understand. More than ever after what McDowell told us.”

  “What did he tell you?”

  “How badly you were treated.”

  “Is she one of the victims he’s charged with murdering?”

  She noticed he still could not use the word “mother.” He hadn’t mentioned Lilian Duffy’s name once.

  “Well, is she?”

  “All I can tell you is that they found some very incriminating evidence in the basement where McDowell lives.”

  “Like what?”

  Anna sighed. She’d been instructed to appear uneasy about giving him this information.

  “It was a handbag,” she said. “Which belonged to one of the victims.”

  “That’s pretty conclusive, isn’t it? Did they find anything else? Serial killers take tokens from their victims, don’t they?”

  “Yes, and McDowell was quite a ladies’ man. But he’s proving very tricky to question. He’s very, very intelligent.”

  “Are we talking about the same man? He’s a drunk.”

  “He didn’t appear to be. He’s got a top lawyer, too.”

  At that moment, Anna’s front door buzzer rang. She looked down: there would not be enough telephone lead to carry the phone to the door.

  “Alan, can you wait a second? I left my coffee in the kitchen.”

  She put the phone down. In the hall, she looked through the spy hole, but could see nothing. Then she clicked on the door intercom.

  “Who is it?”

  “Langton,” the intercom crackled.

  Anna buzzed him in.

  A few seconds later Daniels had pushed the door to her flat open. He stood in front of her, smiling and waving his mobile. “Surprise, surprise. Aren’t you going to ask me in? Good impression, don’t you think?” He repeated Langton’s name in a gruff voice.

  “I don’t know what game you are playing, but I told you I couldn’t see you.”

  “I just couldn’t wait. Don’t be hard on me, Anna. I’ll go after one cup of coffee, I promise.”

  “Alan, I really can’t. I’ve told you why.”

  “How do you think that makes me feel?” he said. He placed his hand to his heart. “When all I have done is try and help you.”

  At the station, Barolli listened to the conversation with a set of headphones. Two officers were sitting alongside him.

  “She’s doing all right. But something’s wrong. She’s not on the phone. I can hear her talking to someone. Oh, Jesus Christ, it’s him,” Barolli said in a panic. “It’s Daniels: he’s in her fucking flat.”

  The other two officers said nothing; they had been making copious notes throughout the call. One switched over to a radio contact, listened, then turned to Barolli. “DCI Langton is already there.”

  “You saying he knows Daniels is in her place?”

  The officer moved his headset aside a fraction. “I’m still picking up voices, so her phone’s still off the hook.”

  “Thank Christ for that,” Barolli said.

  Daniels was heading toward the living room.

  “I want you to leave!”

  “I promise I’ll only stay a few minutes. I’ll be a gentleman.”

  Anna could see her phone was still on “conference” and knew it could pick up.

  “You can put your phone down now,” Daniels said, nodding at it.

  Her heart was racing. Picking up the phone, she pressed “speaker on” as she replaced it.

  “You said you wanted a cup of coffee?”

  “Not really. I just wanted to talk.”

  Langton headed up the stairs two at a time. He had seen Daniels enter Anna�
�s flat. He also saw the front door left ajar. Silently, he edged closer and closer until he could hear them talking.

  Anna had just gestured for Daniels to sit down. He put his mobile in his pocket and sat next to her on the sofa. Anna sat close to her phone, praying they were still picking up. She had not stipulated how many handbags had been found. He had already slipped up by referring to McDowell as a drunk, which suggested he might have seen him recently.

  Trying hard to remain calm, she smiled at him. “Did the Paris job work out?”

  “Oh, yeah. I was able to do the wig fitting in London.”

  “So, when do you do the film test?”

  “Soon. You must come over. Have you ever been to Paris?”

  “I doubt if they would let me off, Alan. With all that’s going on, we’re sometimes doing double shifts.”

  Langton edged further along Anna’s hallway. Then he made a fast move into Anna’s bedroom, through a door exactly opposite the lounge. He could hear Daniels’s voice clearly.

  “But surely, now that he’s been charged, all that must be over?”

  “Not quite. Because he’s not been charged with them all and even the ones he has been charged with…Well, the clever way he’s handling the interrogation is making the evidence look a bit dodgy.”

  “Clever? It wasn’t too clever to leave some of the victims’ handbags at his flat.”

  “True. But there might have been someone else living there.”

  Anna’s nerves were jangling. The tension of keeping control of the conversation to draw him out and get him to implicate himself was tiring her out.

  “Someone else living there?” Daniels leaned forward intently. “What did you mean by that?”

  “Apparently, the evidence was found in a part of the flat used by other people. Well, he’s maintaining that. As I said, McDowell is very intelligent.”

  His voice became angry. “Stop saying that. Intelligent? He’s a bum, a drunk.”

  “Really? When did you last see him?”

  Daniels stood up. “I have had no contact with him. Why did you ask me that? I don’t know him. I haven’t seen him in years.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s just from what you said, I thought you must have met up with him.”

  “What are you implying, Anna?”

 

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