Silent Scream (46 page)

‘Blackmail?’

The heavy rasping breathing returned.

‘So you believe that the diary contains inflammatory material that involved you?’

‘I suspect it contains more filth about my daughter’s lifestyle. I simply wish for it to be destroyed so she cannot create any further heartbreak for my wife and me.’

‘Was there anything in your past involving your daughter that would also, if it became known, cause distress for you both?’

The heavy breathing was replaced by a cold anger. He told her he had nothing else to add.

‘If Miss Bale does contact you again, I would be grateful if you could let us know. As I said, we are concerned about her and we want to find out where she is.’

‘I doubt she will try and contact me again, Detective Travis, but if she does, I will tell you.’

He ended the call. Anna held the receiver in her hand, hearing the dead tone and she slowly hung up.

It had been Anna’s idea, to contact Jeannie Bale’s theatrical agent and ask her to pull a fast one on Jeannie, tell her that she was up for a big part and that the producer wanted to meet her. She and Felicity must have done a runner, taking Delany’s five thousand in cash. Two of the flatmates were dead. Jeannie could be the next.

It was almost 6 p.m. that evening when Anna met with Sylvia Brandon and her assistant Kevin. Their office was in Chiswick, one room cluttered with posters and files and hundreds of photographs stacked in bunches on the floor. Sylvia Brandon was a plump, blonde woman in her late fifties, wearing heavy make-up and a flowing black wool dress. Her assistant, Kevin, wore bright red trainers that almost matched the extraordinary colour of his gelled hair.

‘We’ve been shocked about Amanda Delany and we know they used to live together, but we’ve not heard from Jeannie for a week or so.’ Kevin had a Newcastle accent and a lisp while Sylvia’s voice was deep, loud and theatrical.

‘Do you have Jeannie’s mobile phone number?’ Anna asked. ‘She calls in on a regular basis, doesn’t she?’

Kevin opened a thick file and started to thumb through it. ‘Yes, but she hasn’t for a while as things have been very slow.’

He found the page on Jeannie Bale. ‘She’s also got a message service, but I don’t know about these numbers. Sylvia, have a look, would you, darling?’

Sylvia put on a pair of glasses with bright green frames.

Anna was getting impatient. ‘We really need to talk to her, but she’s no longer living at her flat. I would also like any contact numbers for people that you think know her.’

She then plunged into suggesting her ploy to catch Jeannie’s attention.

The couple obviously loved the intrigue and started discussing what work they could say had been offered.

‘You know the fringe play she went up for, Kevin?’ Sylvia took off her glasses. ‘It was a very good part. What if we were to leave a message for her to say they wanted to see her again because the actress they had cast was no longer available?’

‘That’s a good idea. She was very disappointed when she lost out on that one.’

‘Kevin, you start calling, dear, and see what happens.’

‘You’ll also have to give her a time and location,’ Anna added.

Kevin started making the calls. The only number that connected was the landline at the Maida Vale flat and it went onto the the message service. Kevin covered the receiver with his hand and had a moment of panic; he couldn’t remember the theatre or the director’s name.

‘Tricycle Theatre in Kilburn and . . .’ On went the green-framed glasses as Sylvia ran her chipped nailvarnished finger down the pages. ‘Kim Mantley or Montgomery, I can’t read my own writing. Here, Kevin, you look and tell me what his name is.’

Anna wondered how the pair of them ever found their clients any work, they were so inept and their office was such a tip. Kevin eventually redialled and in a posh voice said that Jeannie should call in as soon as possible and explained the job situation.

‘Was that all right?’ he said to Anna when he finished.

It wasn’t, as he had forgotten to give the time and urgency of the proposed job, but rather than let him make yet another call, Anna nodded. Doubtful that it would work, she gave Kevin her direct line and said that he should contact her any time, day or night, if he did get a return call from Jeannie.

‘If she phones in, what do I say?’

Anna could see the pair of them thinking themselves into a Miss Marple story. She made it very simple: if they did get a response, they should give Jeannie a time to be at the theatre and make sure there was also enough time for the police to be waiting for the girl when she turned up.

Anna reported back to Barolli with a few names of people that Sylvia and Kevin thought Jeannie knew; they didn’t consider anyone they had on their books as a close friend of hers. She made him laugh as she described the pair of them cooking up the false job offer. She gave him the list of Jeannie’s old numbers, two mobiles, the flat landline and the message service.

‘They left a message on the landline as well, just in case she returns to the flat.’

‘She won’t have much luck getting in, if she goes back there.’ The landlord had changed the locks, but they nevertheless retained surveillance on the place in case she reappeared.

‘I’m just collecting my car from the garage, then I’m going off home. See you in the morning,’ Anna said.

‘Yeah, I’m taking off soon.’

Anna was paying off the taxi outside the garage when her phone rang. It was Barolli.

‘Fucking hell, he’s only bloody walked in – been in reception for ten minutes.’

‘Who –
who?
’

‘Lester James. They’re bringing him up now, so get your arse back here and fast!’

‘W
hat do you make of him?’ Anna asked Barolli whe n she got back to the station.

Barolli shrugged. Lester James had come in of his own free will, and was sitting in the interview room, talking to his solicitor.

‘He appears very calm and keen to be interviewed, to clear up any queries. He’s obviously spoken with both his brothers, which was why he felt that he should have representation. They must have told him why we’re looking for him.’

Anna sat with Barolli, going over the files and statements. Langton felt the interview should be relaxed. Rather than put too much pressure on him, they needed to find out just how much a suspect Lester James was, so it was imperative they get his movements on the night of the murder. They needed witnesses, corroborating evidence and details, and not until they had heard his side of events were they to infer he was in the frame for the murder.

‘But he is, isn’t he?’ Barolli said to Mike Lewis.

‘He’s all we’ve fucking got, but if his alibi works out we’re back to square one, unless we can trip him up.’

‘So who’s in with him?’ Anna asked.

‘You and Barolli. Langton wants you to lead it.’

‘Do we bring up Felicity Turner and Dan Hutchins in this first round?’

‘He says to hold off on them. Right now, both are down to “accidental deaths” and he wants to keep a softly, softly approach. If you get anything now, we hold him for further questioning.’

‘And if we don’t?’ Anna asked quietly.

‘He walks.’

Anna asked if Lester had turned up in his own car. Barolli said that a Mercedes was parked in the car park.

‘Can we open it up and search it?’

‘Not yet we can’t,’ said Barolli. ‘Unless it’s unlocked or hasn’t got permission to be parked in the station yard.’

‘Maybe just ask him if we can,’ Mike suggested.

Anna stood up. She doubted there would be any incriminating evidence at this stage as their suspect had had more than enough time to get it cleaned. She asked to have some strong coffee brought in and a sandwich.

‘We’re wasting time,’ Mike Lewis snapped.

‘Instructions are to keep it low profile, so let’s offer him something to eat and coffee. I need some too. Right, let’s get started.’

They headed towards the interview room.

Mike Lewis met Langton in the incident room and together they went into the viewing room to watch the interview on the monitor screen. Langton was uneasy about questioning their prime suspect without sufficient evidence to make any charges stick, but at the same time it was a major step forward. If Lester James was, as the team believed, their killer, Langton was certain both his brothers would have primed him and even concocted an alibi for the night of the murder. He had been far from satisfied with the Accidental Death verdicts on the two flatmates. If, however, Lester could prove that he had been in Amsterdam, he could not have been involved in the death of Felicity Turner and they had no evidence that he could be implicated in Dan Hutchins’s overdose. Now Langton would be able to watch him being interviewed and come to his own conclusion. Lester had already given his permission for his interrogation to be on video.

Langton sat forward as Anna and Barolli entered the incident room and he saw their suspect for the first time. Lester James sat well back in his chair, his broad shoulders almost touching the Legal Aid duty solicitor, who was a small dapper man. Beside him, Lester James looked as if he was twice his size. He wore a light grey suit with a black polo-neck sweater, and his big square hands were folded over each other, resting on the Formica tabletop. He was much better-looking than his brothers, with blond hair cut short in a crew cut, and wide-set bright blue eyes. There was a freshness to him. Like an athlete, he exuded fitness and, to Langton’s mind, a calmness that surprised him.

Lester also surprised Anna. He smiled as she sat down, and seemed totally at ease.

She kicked off with a soft encouraging tone in her voice.

‘You sometimes drove Miss Delany on a private basis, is that correct, Mr James?’

‘Yes.’

‘Could you just elaborate on that for us?’

Lester nodded and recounted numerous occasions when he had driven Amanda to premières and nightclubs. He gave a fond laugh, saying that she was never ready, he always had to wait; she was a very bad timekeeper.

‘So you would collect her from her flat in Maida Vale?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did you meet any of the other occupants?’

He said that he had met them and had once driven them with Amanda to a venue.

‘They would be Felicity Turner, Dan Hutchins and Jeannie Bale?’

‘That’s right.’

Anna eased into asking if he also collected Amanda from her new house.

‘Yes, after she moved in.’

‘On one of these occasions when you drove Miss Delany, did you take her to the restaurant called Le Caprice for lunch?’

‘Yeah, I believe I did. It’s that place behind the Ritz, isn’t it?’

Anna nodded. ‘On this occasion, did she mention who she was dining with?’

He shrugged. ‘No. I just waited outside until she came out.’

‘When Miss Delany returned to your car, how did she appear to you?’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Was she in a good mood or a bad one?’

‘Oh, I see. Well, she was very hyper, sort of excited, and she’d obviously had a few glasses of champagne.’

‘So, being in such a good mood, did she tell you what the meeting had been about?’

‘Not really.’

‘Think about it, Mr James. She was, as you have said, very excited. Surely she must have told you the reason?’

‘Er. . . she might have said something about a deal. I don’t remember what it was exactly, it was some time ago.’

‘Was it something to do with a publishing offer?’

He looked down at his big hands. ‘It might have been.’

‘So you were aware that Miss Delany was going to write a book? Her autobiography?’

Lester leaned towards his solicitor and they had a whispered conversation. After a moment he looked at Anna.

‘She said something about it but, like I already said, she had been drinking so she sort of rambled on a bit.’

‘Did she mention a diary to you?’

Lester shook his head. Anna had had enough. By his reaction, she knew that Lester had been told by Amanda at least about the publishing deal if not her diary and, not wanting to unnerve him, she switched the subject, asking how long he had known Amanda.

Lester said that he had met the young actress when she had starred in her first film and continued to see her on various other productions. He was not often part of the main team of unit drivers, but someone they brought in as an extra and, because his brothers were well-known, they often got the work. He wasn’t one of the official drivers on
Gaslight,
however, as there were only a few stars and a small cast.

‘Did you like Miss Delany?’

His face took on an odd expression. ‘Yes, she was a really nice person, very kind.’

‘Did she ever come onto you?’

His blue eyes met Anna’s and held them.

‘No,’ he said neutrally. ‘I was just her driver.’