Blood Line

by Lynda La Plante

  ‘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.’

  ‘Well, it’s all I can think about, the possibility. He could be very secretive sometimes.’

  ‘Can you give me an example?’

  ‘Well, yes. That Mercedes, he never told me he’d bought it. We were supposed to be saving up to get married. I only found out when I saw some receipts for spare parts – they cost a fortune.’

  ‘Did you argue about it?’

  She sighed. ‘Alan didn’t argue. I mean, I could shout and carry on at him, but it never seemed to bother him. He’d ignore it, or what really used to get me furious was he would just walk out of the room.’

  ‘That must have been very frustrating,’ Anna said.

  Tina shrugged her shoulders. ‘Yeah, sometimes it was.’

  Paul was flicking through one of the glossy magazines; he appeared to be paying no attention to what they were discussing.

  ‘Did he ever get physical with you?’ Anna asked.

  Paul closed the magazine, looking directly at Tina.

  ‘Alan? Never. And besides, if he had have done, I’d have given him as good. I told you, he was never confrontational and he hated getting into any kind of row.’

  ‘Did he get annoyed about your flirty behaviour at the gym?’

  She sighed with even more impatience.

  ‘No, of course he didn’t. I’m flirty here with the customers, as we do have both male and female. It’s part of the job!’

  Anna pressed on. ‘If he was seeing someone, do you have any idea who it would be?’

  ‘Not really. I never found the lipstick on the collar thing or blonde hairs on his jacket. It was working on that bloody car that he said was the reason he was out so late.’

  She closed her eyes.

  ‘I find this all upsetting, you know, because I have told you all this before, and if I did find out there was another woman he’d run off with, you’d be the first people I’d contact. I told that to the Missing Persons people. They’ve asked me the same questions over and over.’

  ‘He used to collect you from here sometimes?’ Anna noted.

  Tina looked at Paul, who still hadn’t spoken.

  ‘Yes. When he took my car to work he’d drop me off here and pick me up. Not frequently because I never liked to get here as early as he needed to be at the garage.’

  ‘Did any of the girls working here seem friendly with him?’

  ‘No, no way. They’re not his type; the Donnas of this world wouldn’t be interested in him either.’

  ‘Really.’ Anna said it so quietly that Tina flushed.

  ‘They’re too young and Alan’s so straitlaced and he didn’t have much time for chit-chat.’

  Felicity walked in. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt you, Tina, but your client wants to see you.’

  ‘Tell her I’ll be two minutes.’ Tina sipped her coffee and put the mug down. ‘I’m gonna have to go and unwrap her. Is there anything else you wanted to ask me?’

  ‘No. Thank you for your time.’

  Tina hesitated, as if about to say something, then seemed to change her mind and started to walk out. However, she then stopped and turned back. Anna felt as if the woman was in some way rearranging her features or her emotions, since she was suddenly nervous.

  ‘I am beginning to think he took off – you know, left me – because he was too afraid to tell me he didn’t want to go through with the wedding. He would have been in turmoil about it; it’s the only reason I can think of for him walking out the way he has done. It doesn’t make it any easier, obviously not, and . . .’ She broke off and took out a tissue from her pocket. ‘I’ve been wondering how long it will be – you know, your investigation. I mean, when do you call it quits?’

  ‘That would depend,’ Anna told her.

  ‘Depend on what?’

  ‘Well, whether or not we trace him.’

  ‘But what if you don’t?’

  Anna glanced at Paul, not wanting to get into the discussion herself. He took over. At last he showed some interest.

  ‘It will depend on whether we uncover any evidence that gives us confirmation that Alan has met with foul play. Then it will become an ongoing murder enquiry.’

  ‘Murder?’

  Paul nodded and flicked his eyes to Anna, who was giving him a frosty gaze.

  ‘Is that what you think, that Alan’s been murdered?’ Tina said shakily.

  ‘We will look int
o every possibility.’

  ‘But can you have a murder enquiry without a body?’

  ‘If we suspect foul play, then yes.’

  She sniffed and dabbed the tissue to her nose. ‘And do you?’

  Anna had heard enough. She stood up and turned to Paul, saying briskly, ‘We should go; Tina has to unwrap a body.’

  Paul could hardly keep his face straight, but he stood up and joined her.

  ‘Thank you, Miss Brooks, for your time,’ he said politely. ‘We will no doubt be in touch if we have any news for you.’

  Anna had already walked past and was heading into the main area of the salon.

  ‘She doesn’t like me, does she?’ Tina sniffed.

  ‘No, it’s not that, it’s just been a long day.’

  ‘Tell me about it. And you tell her she could do with some treatments. A wash-in colour enhancing shampoo followed by a cut and blowdry would do her good, and I’ll give her a discount.’

  ‘I will pass that on to DCI Travis.’

  Anna was waiting for him in the patrol car. He got in beside her, repeating what Tina had said.

  ‘Cheeky cow, but she’s right about me not liking her. I don’t.’

  Paul started up the engine and added that Tina had also said she would give her a good price reduction.

  ‘Wild horses wouldn’t get me into that salon.’

  They drove off, heading back to the station. Anna was really irritable, twice snapping at him to take another route as they were heading into rush-hour traffic.

  ‘Why don’t you like her?’ Paul persevered.

  ‘Maybe because I can’t believe a word she says, and after everything I’ve heard about Alan, it’s no wonder he took off. Another thing, I wouldn’t like to get into a confrontation with her. In fact, I find it really difficult to imagine the pair of them as a couple.’

  ‘Love is blind.’

  She made a derisive sound.

  ‘You know, Anna, sometimes people under pressure and stress act in different ways, and by now she must be sort of getting used to the situation.’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’

  ‘Just that if he did take off, which now I’m beginning to think he did, then she’s taken it on the chin and she’s getting on with her life.’

  ‘Doesn’t work that way,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Okay, now it’s your turn: what do you mean by that?’

  ‘I don’t want to go there, Paul. Just drop it.’

  Since Ken’s death, so long as no one brought up his name or his murder she was able to control the tide of emotions that welled up inside her, but whenever the subject was broached, grief would sweep over and drown her.

  The incident room at the station was almost empty apart from a couple of clerical staff still clearing up from the previous murder enquiry. Anna went into her office where virtually everything was now packed up and sat at her desk. She typed out a quick report of the day’s interviews, and having split the work with Paul, it took only half an hour. When he tapped and entered with his sheets it was just after six.

  ‘You mind if I take off?’ he asked as she stacked her sheets together with his.

  ‘No, go ahead.’

  ‘We on for tomorrow?’

  She said that she wasn’t sure as she would need to talk to Langton.

  ‘You want me to take them over?’ Paul offered. ‘His station’s not far from where I live, and I don’t mind.’

  ‘No, I’ll drop them off to him. You got a hot date?’

  Paul, who very rarely showed any campness, flicked his wrist, saying, ‘Could be. So you’ll call me?’

  She nodded, placing the pages into an envelope.

  Left alone, she picked up her briefcase, but in reality she didn’t feel like going home. The conversation in the car with Paul had niggled at her, but the reason wouldn’t rise to the surface. Maybe it was just frustration, but the fact remained that they still had no clues as to Alan Rawlins’s whereabouts. Nor had they discovered any evidence to suggest that a crime had been committed.

  Part of her felt that they had reached a dead end and she wanted to get onto another case, but there was that niggle. Perhaps it was her intuition, or as Langton would always ask, ‘What’s the gut feeling?’ Truthfully, bar her dislike of Tina Brooks, she didn’t have anything else that she felt would justify the continuation of her enquiries.

  Anna left the station and drove to Highgate, where Langton was heading up a murder team. It was almost seven when she reached the local police station and parked in the private section reserved for patrol cars and police vehicles. She saw that Langton’s rusted old brown Rover was as usual erratically parked, taking up two spaces. It looked as if it had even more dents than usual, and passing it she saw, left in the back, a child’s booster seat. As always, whenever she caught a tiny piece of his private life it surprised her. She never found it easy to connect Langton with a whole world that didn’t include her or their past relationship, and yet it was years now since they had been lovers.

  The Duty Sergeant suggested she go straight up to the incident room. It was one of the new stations with all mod cons, unlike the one she was attached to. It was very different also in that even at this time of the day it looked busy; a couple of female DCs passed her in the well-lit corridor as she made her way along to double doors, following signs to the incident room. She listened outside at first, then, as she could hear Langton’s voice, she inched the door open and looked in.

  Langton was giving a big team of officers a briefing. All had their back to the door as she slipped in to stand at the rear of the large, very well-equipped room. There were rows of desks and monitors, a long incident board with photographs and details, and numerous clerical staff working on the periphery. Anna held onto her briefcase and looked around. She saw DCI Mike Lewis, DS Paul Barolli and, sitting side by side, Joan Falkland and DC Barbara Maddox. They had all worked with her on four previous cases. She felt a pang of envy that they were together and she was an outsider. Langton was pacing up and down, pulling at his tie.

  ‘I think our victims have been chosen through a systematic and lengthy period of stalking and surveillance. I am certain he has been watching this family for some time. He had to know the husband’s habits, that every other night he played snooker at his local club. He would have noted how long the husband spent there in order to have enough time to complete what he wanted to do. The crime was carefully staged to impact in the most traumatic way on the husband when he returned from the pub. I think the staging and placing of the bodies indicated that our killer is methodical and he wanted to shock. He could know this family – more importantly, know the husband – and although it’s just speculation at this stage, we concentrate on anyone who held a grievance against him.’

  Anna had inched her way over to sit unobtrusively on a hard-backed chair left against the wall by the double doors. She listened intently, watching Langton pace the floor back and forth in front of the incident board, tapping the photographs of the victims and turning on his heels to face his team.

  ‘This is a murder of sexual sadism. Our killer was organised. He planned these murders. He targeted his victims, he brought restraints and knives, and we have no weapons found at the victim’s home. By the use of these restraints the element of control was uppermost in his mind, but something didn’t go according to plan; that something was the husband returning home earlier than usual from his snooker game, which had been cancelled due to his friends having to work a late shift. So although victim one, the wife, is deliberately displayed and ready for viewing, his second victim, the twelve-year-old boy, is not. From the blood distribution along the walls in the kitchen and hallway, we can ascertain that the child tried to make a run for it.’

  Langton stood in front of a large sketch of the outlay of the victims’ kitchen, breakfast room and hall. He jabbed it with his finger.

  ‘The boy was caught and dragged to the kitchen dining area – we have blood smearing and spattering
against the walls. Forensics has given us a scenario that the killer rammed the boy’s head against the side of a cabinet before tying him to the chair beside his mother. Pathology report indicates the poor kid thankfully would have been unconscious by this time.’

  Langton loosened his tie. He was sweating and Anna could see that his old injury to his knee was paining him as he paused to rub it.

  ‘With three possible suspects the search warrants will be executed first thing tomorrow morning. Look for any items relating to sexual or violent behaviour – pornographic magazines, videos, books relating to true-life crimes, vibrators, clamps, women’s clothing, underwear and so on. Look out for diaries, anything connected to this sort of violence. They could have police equipment, handcuffs, ropes, knives, so search their vehicles . . .’

  He took a deep breath and glanced at his watch.

  ‘Right, that’s it for tonight. Weekend leave is cancelled. We work round the clock on this one.’

  His team began to disperse, taking chairs back to their desks and talking quietly to each other. No one as yet had seen Anna, and she now stood up, waiting for the moment to speak to Langton. However, he was in a huddle with Mike Lewis and Paul Barolli. She decided that rather than wait in the incident room, she’d leave her notes with the Duty Sergeant downstairs. She also didn’t feel like talking to anyone from the old team.

  ‘DCI Travis!’ It was Barbara. ‘How are you?’ Barbara was carrying her coat, eager to leave. She was always the first out if it was possible.

  ‘I’m fine, thanks. This sounds like a nasty case.’

  ‘Christ, it’s awful. The victim’s husband was an ex-detective working for a private investigation company.’

  ‘Anna.’ Joan now joined them and she had that sorrowful look in her eyes. ‘How’s things?’

  ‘Good, thank you. I just wanted to pass this over to Langton.’

  Joan turned and pulled a face. ‘He’s been sleeping nights here, as usual keeping us all on our toes, but I hear you got a good result – guilty verdict. Consensus was it was pretty well on the cards though, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Yes.’ Anna felt hemmed in by the two women. If she left with them they’d want to continue the conversation so she stepped aside.