Blind Fury (24 page)

“No.”

Barolli remained silent, sitting beside Anna, feeling rather queasy, as Emerald’s perfume was very strong. He waited. Anna thumbed through her notebook, then checked her written report, in no hurry to question Emerald.

“Well—is it about the bloody suitcase?”

Anna didn’t answer, so Emerald turned to Barolli. “I told her I tossed it out. It just had some old clothes in it, and the ones I didn’t keep, I chucked with the case. You can’t get me for doing that. She left it in my house.” Emerald’s foot swung up and down, and she picked at one of her false nails. “That fucking notebook, right?” She pointed at Anna. “Is that what this is about? Because I told you, I never saw it. I dunno where it is, and you said you didn’t have no handbag from her, so I said it was probably in that, right? So what you want me here for? And sending a fucking patrol car . . . I got to live in that block of flats, you know.”

“You look very pretty today,” Anna said, smiling.

It took Emerald by surprise. Her lip-glossed mouth opened and closed like a fish’s. “I wish I could say the same to you.”

“Let’s not get into silly slanging matches. You are here because I am not satisfied that you told me the truth.”

“I fucking did.”

Barolli leaned over and wagged his finger. “Just stop the swearing and show some respect.”

“You show
me
some. I done everything I could—I told this one everything I knew about Maggie. I don’t know any more, all right? The poor cow is dead, and you should be trying to find out who killed her, never mind bringing
me
in.”

“I think you found more than clothes in Margaret Potts’s suitcase, Emerald, because I know she was earning quite a lot of money.”

“What’s quite a lot to you? I know what she earned, and it was fucking rubbish. How much do you think she could make, givin’ sex to down-and-out lorry drivers?”

“You maybe earn more from your massage parlor, but—”

“You mind your own business about what I earn.”

“What else did you find in Margaret Potts’s suitcase, Miss Turk?”

Emerald sighed, staring up at the ceiling. There was a long pause, her leg still swinging up and down.

Anna checked her notes. “You said there was a tracksuit, the one you were wearing when I first met you, a few other garments, and you brought up the notebook that Margaret kept with the car license numbers she recorded for her protection.”

“Yeah, and I never had it, I also told you that.”

“Her brother-in-law mentioned a family diamond ring, and her husband also mentioned some jewelry that he knew Margaret had. Added to these items of value was possibly her savings.”

“Savings?”

“Yes, money.”

“She never had any, and I never saw no jewelry. If you want to get another search warrant, you can rip my flat apart again.”

The interview was going nowhere, and without firmed-up evidence, it was wasting time.

“Did you ever use a company called Swell Blinds?”

“What?”

“It’s a company that makes wooden slatted window blinds to order.”

“Did I know them? You must be joking. I never had no made-to-order blinds.”

Anna closed her notebook and said, “Thank you, Miss Turk, and if you want, we can arrange for you to be taken home.”

“That’s very big of you, but I’ll get a taxi.”

Anna watched Emerald walking out of the station. Barbara joined her.

“Anything?” she asked.

“Nope. How about you?”

“Well, I’ve contacted my little lady Wendy Dunn. She lives on my way home and I’m going to drop in to see her again.”

Anna shook her head. “I think this interviewing everyone over again is not only time-consuming but unproductive. It’s not telling us anything that we didn’t already know.”

“Ah, but Mrs. Dunn says she’s retained a lot of old files from Swell Blinds—not payment receipts but old orders from good customers in case they ever wanted new ones.”

Anna gave Barbara a high five. “Let’s hope she can give us a new lead, then. We sure as hell need one.”

Pete Jenkins was his usual friendly self, asking if Anna wanted to look at the blue blanket brought to them from the earlier investigation. As she hadn’t seen it, she agreed and drove over to the labs in Lambeth, South London. The blanket was pinned out on a long brown-paper-covered trestle table. It was filthy, covered with stains that had markings attached to them, ready for further DNA testing.

“It had long dog hairs all over it,” Pete told Anna. “The original lab examination showed they could be from an Alsatian or similar breed; find the animal in question, and we can match them by DNA. There were also a few carpet fibers and what looks like vomit. The corner where you might have had a laundry mark has been hacked off.”

“It looks like a big child’s blanket to me. It’s not a full-size one, is it?”

“No. It could be from a large single bed, we’ve not a lot to go on,” Pete continued. “We’re running further chemical tests on the color and hoping to run it by manufacturers. It is also worn in some places, almost bald.”

They went over to his cleared desk, and Anna took out all the photographs of the tattoo. Some were in color and others black and white.

“Pity we don’t have the actual body,” he said. “We’d use infrared to illuminate the tattoo and then a filter to take out the blue, so we’d be able to see what colors are behind it. Different inks react to different wavelengths of infrared. So if the tattoo beneath the dark blue one had red or green or even a mixture, they would stand out. However, if there was blue in the original tattoo, it wouldn’t.”

“To be honest, Pete, it’s just a thought. I don’t know if it really does cover something else; it’s just the dark color that’s sort of odd, and also the lizard is upside down.”

Pete laid out the photographs, placing the color ones to one side. “There is a process I am going to try. With these original digital photographs, I’m going to use Adobe Photoshop. What I’ll be doing is taking the original image—we call it the RAW file—removing the blue channel and seeing if there are any colors beneath it or if an image shows up.”

“How long will it take?”

“I’ll work on it tonight for you and should get a result or not by morning.”

“Thank you.”

“Fancy a bite to eat? We’ve got a great Greek restaurant, just opened a two-minute walk away.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. It’s been a long day—I’ll take a rain check.”

“That’s what you always say.”

“You get a result, and
I’ll
take
you
for dinner.”

“Deal,” he said, and shook her hand.

Chapter Nine

A
nna was disappointed. There was still no call from Ken, and she was hesitant about calling him herself. She began to think that maybe she had read it all wrong, that he wasn’t interested. She was making herself a salad when he rang. Since it took her a moment to wash her hands, it was already going on to voice mail when she reached it.

“Hi, it’s Ken. Sorry not to have rung before and—”

She interrupted. “It’s me, and I’m at home. Just didn’t get to the phone in time.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. I’ve had a bug, but I’m better now.”

“Poor you. I was beginning to think you didn’t want to meet up with me again,” Anna said.

“I most certainly do.”

Anna felt all girlish and giggled a lot as Ken chatted on about this and that. He said he could swing another weekend, as he’d agreed to switch to nights during the week, and she agreed to see him on Saturday. She hoped she would not be asked to work over the weekend but warned him that she might be called in.

“Are you playing rugby again?” she asked.

“Nope. I can get to you for lunchtime, is that convenient?”

“Yes, and it’s okay to call me on the mobile. Leave me a message if I’m working, and I’ll get back to you straightaway.”

She gave him her mobile number, and he said that maybe they could take in another show.

“I’d like that.”

“Good. Till Saturday, then.”

She rang off with a huge smile, and then, just as she sat down to eat her salad, her mobile rang. It was Pete, and he had a result, although he wasn’t sure it would be of much consequence.

“You were right, Anna, the lizard
was
inked over another tattoo.”

She closed her eyes, hoping it would be the lead they needed.

“It’s a date in red ink, a sort of scroll. I couldn’t make out exactly what; it looked like a red ribbon and a red heart in the middle. There’s something written on it: twenty-one
Lipiec
oh-two.” Pete spelled out the word, then blew her away, as he told her that
Lipiec
was Polish for July.

Anna was late arriving for work next day, as she had been over to Pete’s lab in Lambeth to collect the photographs and photo print of the tattoo’s date. She burst into the incident room, eager to give the new details, but there was a lot of interest around Barbara’s desk. The detective constable had two thick files with Swell Blinds orders going back four years
before
the company moved to Manchester. The amount of clerical work necessary to check with every customer would be a pain, but they would nevertheless have to get it done. Beside each of the orders was the name and address of the customer, with appointment dates and sales contact. They needed to know if Smiley was the contact and whether any customers had links to the victims.

Joan asked if they were just to concentrate on the orders for the wooden slatted blinds, as they also had orders for the vertical variety.

“What are those?” Anna asked.

Joan pointed to the blinds along the incident-room windows—long strips of white canvas attached with thin chains and running vertically down the window.

“They let the light in or out, but they’re used mostly in offices or for dividing sections. Swell Blinds had some big orders; they were contracted by a couple of major housing associations, big-time. Some of the new council estates use them, maybe because they’re cheap.”

Joan continued to sift through the orders, and Mike suggested she concentrate on house calls rather than the housing associations. He then turned to see Anna writing up beneath their blue-blanket victim the date and design from Pete Jenkins.

Anna explained what Pete had done. Although the picture was very blurred, they could make out the scroll and bows. Mike peered at it. “What is it?”

Barolli joined them. “I think it’s maybe a wedding date,” he said.

“Or a birthday, christening—could be anything.”

“No, it has to be something the victim wanted covered—so if we go with a wedding date, it would make sense if it went wrong. That would be why she wouldn’t want it as a reminder,” Anna said.

“Okay, let’s get cracking on it,” Mike said. “Get on to the Polish embassy and see if they can direct us to whomever we need to contact regarding marriage licenses issued on that date.”

“It’s another link to our two Polish girls, Mike, and it could mean we do have a fourth victim,” Anna said.

“Yeah, yeah, but let’s keep it to this one. No more digging up any additional Jane Does; we’ve got enough cases.”

Barolli stomped over to Anna’s desk, his nose slightly out of joint. “Well, congratulations, Travis, you’ve done it again—but you know something? Cameron Welsh said there would be other victims, and if this one adds up, he’s right on the ball.”

“I am aware of that,” she said tetchily.

“Maybe we need another visit.”

Anna was about to say that if there was to be another trip to Barfield, she wouldn’t be the one to go, but then it would mean she could get to see Ken.

“Yeah, maybe we do,” she said, “but if you don’t mind, right now I want to get on with trying to identify the blue-blanket victim.”

The team, with extra clerical staff on board, began checking Swell Blinds’s customers. By lunchtime it was clear that customer after customer was not only satisfied with the company but praised their workmanship
and
John Smiley.

The Polish embassy gave Anna a contact in Poland who informed her that there were many churches and civil courts, and without the exact location, it would take considerable time to produce the names of couples who had married on that specific date. Frustrated, Anna sent e-mails with pictures of the victim in the hope that it would help identify her, underlining that they were interested only in women aged twenty to thirty.

Meanwhile, Mr. Rodgers was sending down as many customer-service records as he could from Manchester—so there would be even more to sift through. Mike had mentioned to him that his ex-employee Wendy Dunn had been helping with their inquiry, and Mr. Rodgers angrily said that he was aware of it but felt that she should have contacted him for permission.

“He spent a long time explaining to me that I would be able to see that his company was doing good work. He’s still nervous that we are doing some taxation investigation. Apparently, one of the reasons he downsized his company was that he lost one of his most lucrative orders, for Strath-more Housing Association, so I got a full account of how the housing associations were hand in glove with Social Services and that they weren’t averse to underhand dealing.” Mike flipped through his letter box.

“Like what?”

“According to Arnold Rodgers, these housing-association contracts are worth a lot of money. So you get builders, plumbers, everyone in the trade after the contracts. They need thousands of blinds or whatever made up for new estates or when they refurbish high-rise properties, and according to him, he lost the contract to a company that knew someone high up and were not professionals—you know, cutting corners.” Mike rubbed his fingers together to make the point.

Anna was about to ask how much the contracts were worth when her e-mail began bleeping. Coming in were copies of marriage documents and lists of couples married on the date in question and from different locations all over Poland.

By late afternoon, the hours the team had put in had produced nothing that added to the investigation. Everyone was feeling the pressure, even more so when Langton made an appearance. Mike took him over all the new developments and how much work it had entailed, but the only piece of new information he was interested in was the discovery of the date beneath the lizard tattoo.

Anna had requested a Polish translator, whose first act was to look at the drawings of the tattoo scroll. The woman told them it was quite common in Poland for the families to give to the couples a scroll with a heart and ribbons in memory of their wedding day. They often would have it framed with a wedding photograph. She said that she had personally never known any girl to have it made into a tattoo.

Langton cornered Anna and said affably that he wasn’t concerned that the translator didn’t think a bride would have the tattoo; she was all of sixty so could be out of touch with what any young girl would or wouldn’t do.

“Good work, though, and a slap in the face for that murder team. They could have taken it off her skin.”

“We’re getting a slew of couples from all over Poland who were married on that specific date.”

“Good. Keep at it—we need a result on her.”

Langton turned and signaled to Mike that he wanted a private word, and the two men disappeared into the office.

“I am going to have to halve the clerical staff, Mike.”

“But we need all the help we can get! Especially now that it’s official we’re taking on a fourth victim.”

“If that doesn’t bring us a result, I will have to cut back the team as well. The budget’s being swamped, and I can’t justify holding on to so many people. You’ve had eighteen officers, Mike, plus your key team, and it can’t go on.”

“We’re working flat out.”

“That may be so, but you’ve not brought anything to the table with regard to Anika Waleska or Estelle Dubcek, and the interviews with Margaret Potts’s relatives gave you nothing new. Thank Christ for Travis; she’s the only one so far who is using her initiative. That tattoo may open up this Polish connection.”

“It could also open up another heap of inquiries.”

Langton stood up. “If it does, that bloody Cameron Welsh was right: our killer could have been busy for years.”

“We’ve not come up with anything on John Smiley.”

“I know that,” Langton snapped, and headed for the door. “I’ve pulled in a few favors from Manchester to keep an eye on Smiley, nothing obvious, but he’s still, to my mind, a suspect, and as we’ve no one else even in the frame, we’d better go and visit Welsh again, so get that organized.”

“Do you want to go and see him?”

“No, I bloody don’t. I’ve given more than enough of my time, and I don’t think Travis will agree to traipsing up to Leeds again, so get yourself or Barolli there.”

“Yes, Gov, but you don’t want us to delve into any more cold cases, do you?”

Langton hesitated and then shook his head. “You’ve got two more weeks, Mike, and then I’ll have to review the whole inquiry. Get me a result or I’ll have to pull it.”

The following day, they still had nothing definite from the Polish marriage date, and the mound of receipts and contracts for Swell Blinds were still taking up hours of calls. Mike Lewis put the pressure on to try and get the team to bring in anyone who had known Anika and Estelle, returning to the restaurant and interviewing Katia and her boyfriend again. It seemed unbelievable that two young and attractive girls could just disappear and end up murdered without anyone knowing anything about them. Mike also put more pressure on to try and bring in the anonymous caller who had tipped off the
Crimewatch
program.

On Friday it felt as if the entire case had ground to a halt. Mike gave a briefing to warn the team about Langton’s threat. They had by now lost four clerical workers, and Joan and Barbara were forced into handling the Swell Blinds contract inquiries on their own. The Polish translator was still at work, but she would also be withdrawn soon.

Anna had never known a case that seemed to drag down everyone involved. She just hoped they would not have to work on Saturday.

Mike asked for Barolli and two officers to continue overseeing the incident room during the weekend. Anna kept her gaze down, not wanting to make eye contact with Mike. When he came over to her desk, she thought he was going to ask her to be on duty.

“Langton wants another visit to Cameron Welsh,” he said. “I know you won’t want to go, so—”

“I don’t mind as long as it’s next week.”

He looked surprised. “I’ll get it organized, then. Thank you.”

She watched him head back to his office; poor Mike looked really worn out. Yet even though she knew the pressure was on, she couldn’t wait to leave. She had never in her entire career had something more important on her mind than her investigation. Previously, she would have happily volunteered to work over the weekend.

But now Anna did another evening of housework, put fresh sheets on her bed and flowers on the dining table, and finished all her ironing. She never gave a thought to work. On the contrary, she was up early on Saturday washing her hair, choosing what to wear, and checking out theater productions. Shortly after twelve, she heard Ken’s motorbike from her balcony, where she’d been looking out for him. She hurried down to open the garage so he could park his bike by her Mini. Ken was wearing his thick bike leathers, and Anna offered to carry his helmet.

“I was going to bring one for you in case we felt like a ride tomorrow,” he said.

Anna paused on the stairs, noticing his overnight bag. “Are you staying at your sister’s?”

He smiled and caught her hand. “I can, but I haven’t arranged anything with her.”

Her heart jumped; it had been racing from the moment she had seen him draw up on his bike.

Once in her flat, Anna helped him off with his jacket and took his overnight bag into the bedroom. “Would you like a tea or coffee?” she asked.

“I’m gasping for a glass of water. I didn’t stop, came straight from my flat to here.”

He sat at her breakfast table as she opened the fridge to show she had stocked it with anything she thought he might want. She couldn’t keep still, and he reached out and caught her hand once more.

“Come here and let me look at you, Detective Travis.”

She went into his arms and rested her head against his shoulder.

“I’ve been thinking of you,” he murmured. “It was hard not to. I was really looking forward to seeing you.”

“Me, too,” she said, looking up at him, and they kissed passionately for the first time. They could hardly keep their hands off each other, and it was only a few moments before they went into her bedroom. She loved the feel of him, the smell of him, and their lovemaking was beyond anything she could have dreamed.