Authors: Lynda La Plante
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #Mystery Fiction, #Murder, #Women detectives - England - London, #England, #Murder - Investigation, #Travis; Anna (Fictitious Character), #Women detectives, #london, #Investigation, #Police Procedural, #Women Sleuths
‘Yeah, but you gotta remember there was this big bloke in front to start with, then the bastard came out of nowhere. I dunno…yeah, it looks like him, but I couldn’t be certain.’
Anna put the photograph away.
‘Why do you want to know?’ Barolli asked. ‘I know who that is, by the way–that’s Eugene Camorra, right?’
‘Yes.’
‘So what’s with you asking me about him?’
Anna said it was just tying up loose ends. She was surprised when Barolli tapped her knee and said, ‘Your loose ends–or Jimmy’s?’
‘Mine.’
Barolli leaned back in his chair and shook his head. ‘Drop it. Whatever you think you can gain by this, it is not gonna do any good, you hear me? Drop it.’
Anna felt the tears stinging her eyes. ‘I can’t.’
‘Then let me give you some advice: whatever you are
trying to uncover will destroy you. If you keep going, it’ll be down to the woman spurned.’
‘That is not true,’ she said angrily.
‘Isn’t it? Just drop this crap, Anna.’
‘He’s a bloody police officer.’
‘So am I!’ snapped Barolli.
‘And so am I!’ she retorted.
‘Then drop whatever you are doing and get on with your life,’ he said more quietly.
‘So Mike Lewis called you, did he?’
‘Mind your own fucking business. I mean it, Anna; now go on home. This is my weekend off.’
Anna drove out to the police station in the New Forest. They were surprised to see her. She asked to speak to the officers who were working the cells when Camorra was held.
She waited in an interview room for ten minutes before Officer Harris joined her. Anna was very pleasant, putting him at his ease, as she asked seemingly innocuous questions regarding Camorra and his arrangement to get food sent in. He said that DCI Langton had been privy to Camorra’s requests, but was always warning them to check every meal tray.
‘What about the time he ordered steak tartare?’
Harris shrugged. He had given Camorra a menu from the local Italian restaurant. He would choose what he wanted to eat and they would call the restaurant; it was delivered, inspected and taken to his cell. Camorra said they should take the money out of the wallet that they held when he was taken into custody.
‘And DCI Langton approved this?’
‘Yes, he often checked the trays personally.’
‘Did Mr Orso ever have access to these trays?’
‘No, he was locked up.’
‘So only DCI Langton and yourself were overseeing these food trays?’
‘No: whoever was on duty, ma’am.’
‘Thank you.’ She got up and, almost as an afterthought, asked if he had been around when Camorra was taken ill. He said that he was: in fact, he had been the officer who called a doctor.
‘He’d gone apeshit, like he was seeing monsters or something coming through the walls. He was screaming and shouting that they’d come for him and he was trying to remove his clothes; said they were eating him. He was really crazed and his eyes were rolling back in his head, mouth frothing, really crazy.’
‘As if he was drugged?’
‘I dunno, ma’am; just he was crawling up the wall with terror.’
‘Then what happened?’
‘He went all quiet–stiff like–staring up at the wall. Oh yeah, when I looked in on him, you know, to check him out, he did this.’ Harris lifted his hand and pointed with his finger, then made a circular motion. ‘As if he was pointing at a clock.’
‘So what happened then?’
‘DCI Langton came down and said he wanted a doctor for him asap.’
‘So, during the wait before the doctor arrived, what did Camorra do?’
‘Nothing. He just lay there on his bunk staring up at the ceiling.’
‘Like a zombie?’ Anna asked innocently.
‘Yeah, that’s how I’d describe him.’
‘Thank you very much.’
Anna drove away from the station. At least she had one visit she was looking forward to.
She had asked, as it was a weekend, if she could see Gail’s children. Dora let her in, and said she was just about to make some tea. The children were in her jumbled lounge. Anna walked in to see the little girl in a rah-rah skirt, wearing Carly Ann’s gold chain round her neck and playing with a massive dolls’ house. Keith beamed at Anna; he was wearing a police helmet and uniform.
‘My, you look terrific,’ she said, as he pranced in front of her.
‘I got the bad man,’ he said.
‘Yes, you did,’ Anna said, sitting on a cushion. She turned as Dora brought in a tray of Coca-Cola and tea, with a plate of chocolate biscuits. ‘I was just congratulating Keith on how he helped capture the bad man.’
‘Yes. He’s been given that uniform and all sorts of things, from handcuffs to charge sheets; he’s a proper detective now. And he’s going to be nominated for a bravery award. We also got lots of Barbie dolls and a Barbie house.’
Anna knew, without being told, who had bought the children their new acquisitions.
‘James Langton–he’s a special guy, isn’t he?’ Dora said happily.
Anna nodded. Dora asked what should be done with the jewellery left by Carly Ann. Anna said that, to her knowledge, no one was claiming it; as the children would need so many things, perhaps it could be sold to help finances.
Driving away, Anna knew she’d just bent the rules but she felt that, in these circumstances, it was acceptable. Yet again, her mind returned to Langton; although she had just done something unethical, she could hardly put it in the same league. She sighed. Do it once and it would be easier the next time!
As she let herself into her flat the phone rang. She dumped her coat and picked it up.
‘Hi.’ It was Langton.
She had to sit down. ‘Hi, how’s things?’ she asked.
‘Good, how about you?’
‘Fine, just getting ready for the next case, whatever that may be.’
‘Yeah. I’m off to France for a couple of weeks with the kids. I need a breather–well, not that I’ll get that with Kitty and Tommy, but there’s a health spa, so I can get some feelgood time.’
‘That’s great.’
‘So, I was wondering if we could have that dinner? Maybe make a reservation now?’
‘Yes, why not.’
Langton arranged to see her the day after he returned. He would collect her at eight.
‘I won’t be late,’ he said, laughing.
Anna felt as if she could do with two weeks in a spa herself. Over the course of the fortnight, her suspicions became less of an immediate worry; in fact, she began to think that she should, as Barolli had suggested, put them to rest.
There was some good news: Ella Sickert’s other child had been traced to a couple living in Birmingham. They ran a sandwich bar; the child was working for them and having very little schooling. The couple insisted that they
had taken him in as a favour to his aunt, who had been unable to control him. The so-called aunt was tracked down: she was a known prostitute, living with a smalltime drug dealer in a rundown high-rise block of flats. If the child had been used for sexual favours, he showed no signs of physical abuse; however, he was aggressive and abusive and, when the police arrived, he went into a frenzy. They finally discovered that, along with his brother, he had been taken to the house in Peckham. He stayed there only a matter of weeks before he was sent to his aunt in Birmingham. He had never seen his father as he was promised, and had not seen his brother after he left Peckham. It took a considerable amount of counselling and therapy before he admitted to being drugged and used by men who came to the brothel. There was a pile of fake immigration documents which, yet again, led back to Camorra and Orso. All others involved were arrested and charged.
After weeks of waiting, Ella was reunited with her son. It was never going to be easy. He rejected her totally and blamed her for all the abuse he had suffered. There would be a further lengthy period of legal paperwork before the deportation order came through for Ella and her son to return home.
The autumn weather was very warm, and Anna was still waiting to be assigned a new case. The two weeks flew past and she suddenly realized that she had agreed to have dinner with Langton. She was not looking forward to it.
Langton called to ask whether, as it was such a beautiful day, they could switch dinner to lunch. She agreed.
She dressed in a simple white suit and high heels; she’d
had her hair cut very short and the sun had brought out her hated freckles over her nose. She put a bottle of Chablis in the fridge. At promptly one o’clock, the doorbell rang.
Anna was taken aback. Langton looked fantastic; he was deeply tanned and was wearing a pale blue suit with a white T-shirt beneath it. He also carried a bunch of white roses.
‘For you,’ he said, with a mock bow.
He followed her into the kitchen as she took a vase and filled it with water. She arranged the flowers and took them into the lounge.
‘I see you’ve caught the sun, or your nose has,’ he joked.
‘This is just from the sunroof in the car. I can’t really sunbathe, I just go bright red.’
‘Kitty is brown as a berry, even little Tommy. We had glorious weather, swam every day–sauna, massage. Did the trick–I feel terrific.’
‘You look it,’ she said.
‘Right–you hungry?’
‘Yeah. Where are we going?’
‘As it’s such a nice day, I thought we’d drive to Sunbury–you know, just before Shepperton? There’s a lovely pub; they serve good food and we can sit outside and eat.’
‘Sounds good.’
It was quite a long drive. Anna took the Mini. Langton sat beside her, complaining about the legroom, as always. They drove through Richmond, over the bridge, and headed towards Sunbury. He kept up a light conversation about the holiday and the food, saying he’d put on weight with the breakfast croissants, three-course
lunches and then late dinners–the best food he’d ever eaten.
They went down the winding lane to the large pub, which faced the water. He chose a table outside and then picked up the menu.
‘You want a salad? And they have good steak and chips.’
‘Yes, fine.’
He ordered at the bar inside and came out with two glasses of red wine and a large spoon with a number on it, which he stuck into the pot provided. ‘They’ll call our number when it’s ready.’
‘You obviously know this place well,’ she said, making conversation.
‘Yes, it used to be a regular haunt when I was married.’ He picked up his wine glass and tapped hers. ‘Cheers.’
‘Cheers,’ she said quietly.
‘So, Anna, what have you been up to?’
‘Waiting to hear what my next case is; cleaning up the flat. I like everything all—’
‘Shipshape,’ he said.
‘Yes, you could say that.’
He lit a cigarette, and gestured that it was okay as they were in the smoking zone. ‘I’ve cut back and I’m going to have some acupuncture to give up.’
‘Good.’
‘So, what else?’ His light tone had altered. He was very quiet, his eyes boring into hers.
‘I went to see Gail’s children, but you beat me to it.’
He nodded.
‘Ella Sickert and her son have been reunited.’
‘Immigration have such a backlog, they could be waiting for a year.’
‘I think she wants to go home.’
‘I don’t blame her. This country sucks.’
Anna nodded and sipped her wine.
‘So–what else?’ Again she felt the undercurrent, and found it hard to meet his eyes.
‘Spit it out, Anna. I know you paid a visit to Doctor Salaam.’
‘I just wanted to find out.’
‘I know what you wanted to find out; you also called on Mike Lewis and Barolli.’
‘Yes.’
‘Went back to the station.’
‘Yes.’
‘So, after this extensive runaround, what have you—’
They were interrupted as their number was called out; a waitress carrying their salads appeared. Langton held up the spoon.
‘Thank you,’ he smiled. He ordered two more glasses of wine to be brought with their main course, plus a bottle of still water. He picked up his knife and fork, and tucked into the salad.
Anna could hardly touch hers; her stomach was in knots.
‘So tell me–what have you been so busy beavering around after?’ He pushed his half finished salad aside and drank his wine.
Anna haltingly went over the facts she had unearthed for the defence team representing Idris Krasiniqe.
‘Lemme tell you something: Idris Krasiniqe took the guilty plea over Carly Ann—’
‘But he didn’t kill her.’
His hand shot across the table and gripped hers tightly. ‘Let me finish: we know he worked as Camorra’s henchman/drug dealer along with his brother; we know
they were both illegal immigrants. Christ, we are not even sure if that’s their real name–right?
Right?
’
‘Yes, I know that.’
‘Idris was trying to decapitate her, trying to cut off her hands, so she wouldn’t be identified, correct?’
‘Yes.’
‘Now, even if he was high on drugs, terrified of Camorra, afraid for his brother–whatever reason you want to give–he was still fucking involved in her murder. He said he saw Camorra strangle her after he had raped her and after he himself had been forced to rape her–so she was what? Tied up on that fucking stone slab? His brother was forced to watch, injected with that shit Jimson weed so he wouldn’t know what time of day it was. You want me to go on?’
She nodded and picked at her salad.
‘Okay: watching the attempted decapitation were Rashid Burry and Camorra. Idris gets picked up, the two guys piss off and the Range Rover disappears. You still with me?’
‘Yes!’
Langton began to tick off on his fingers the next events: Idris Krasiniqe withdrew his statement; he said he did not know who the other two men were, and claimed that he, and he alone, killed Carly Ann. ‘Now, you tell me, Anna: why would he do that? Why would he go down for a murder you say he didn’t commit?’
‘Fear for his brother maybe?’
‘Eamon Krasiniqe was picked up for dealing drugs to kids outside a school. He resisted arrest and, at his trial, asked for eight offences of drug dealing to be taken into consideration, as well as one attempt to kidnap a fourteen-year-old girl.’
‘Did it ever occur to you that both of the brothers were terrified of what Camorra would do to them?’ Anna asked. ‘At least locked up, they were free of him. As it turned out, Eamon was got at, and we know how.’