The Red Dahlia (38 page)

Langton frowned. Louise Pennel’s body had been drained of blood; it seemed to him very unlikely that this was where it could have happened.

‘You know the victim’s blood had been drained,’ he said to Ken.

‘Yes, I know; to be honest, I doubt if she could have been cut up here: I mean, that’s pints of blood. We’d have found traces in the drains. This was more like a spray, the tiny drops were only the size of a pinhead, and they were at an upward slant.’

Langton was disappointed, but thanked Ken for his diligence, and he and Barolli decided to go over to the nearest pub for a pint and a sandwich.

Anna was parked on Portobello Road opposite Emily Wickenham’s flat, trying to call her. The answerphone came on again. Anna looked up at the window. The curtains were drawn and the lights were on.

Anna locked her car and crossed the road. She was about to ring Emily’s doorbell when the front door opened and a young girl with her hair in dreadlocks came out.

‘Hi, is Emily in?’ Anna asked, smiling.

‘Dunno; she’s the flat above mine, straight up the stairs.’

‘Thank you.’ Anna smiled again as the girl walked off down the road in thick heavy boots, her red skirt swirling.

Anna headed up the stairs to Emily’s flat. She was about to knock when she noticed the door was off the latch; she heard raised voices.

‘I am telling you what is happening; they are at my flat, Em, the police. Now, you have said something? Because why else would they be there?’

‘I didn’t! I swear, I didn’t tell them anything!’

‘Yeah, well, you can’t remember one thing from the next! You must have said something. I can’t go to my own flat, for Chrissakes!’

‘I didn’t say anything!’

‘I hope to Christ you didn’t, because you know what he’ll do: he’ll stop my fucking allowance. He won’t listen to me. He won’t believe that I never said a fucking word and he’ll take it out on me! So tell me the truth, what did you tell them?’

Emily’s voice screeched. ‘I keep on telling you, I didn’t say anything; they kept asking me but I never told them! I didn’t, I swear I didn’t!’

‘Well, why are they at my flat then? I mean, why are they searching my flat? They all had white paper suits on: they were forensic cops, they were taking up my fucking carpet, Em!’

‘But they won’t find anything; you cleaned it all up!’

‘I know, but the fact they are there freaks me out. If he cuts off my allowance, he’ll do worse to you: he’ll make you go back home.’

‘I won’t go, I won’t go!’

Anna was literally the other side of the door; she could hear every word clearly. She was now in a quandary as to how to approach the girls. Should she walk straight in? She decided to go back down the stairs and call up: that way, they could never accuse her of breaking in.

As Anna got to the bottom of the stairs, she heard Justine becoming even more angry, then a door slam. Anna took this as her cue to call out.

‘Hello! Hello!’

Justine stood at the top of the stairs with a furious look on her face.

‘Hi, I am DI Travis; I was about to ring the bell when your friend from the flat below let me in. Your front door was open.’

Justine moved slowly down the stairs. ‘Then you can just turn around and get the hell out of here. This is private property, so fuck off!’

‘I just want to talk to Emily.’

‘She doesn’t want to see you, and you have no right to break in here! Get out!’

‘If I could just see your sister for a moment?’

‘You can’t; I just told you. She is not seeing anyone, so turn around and get the fuck out of her flat!’

Justine was wearing jodhpurs and riding boots, and brandishing her riding crop. ‘Don’t make me use this, because I will. I also know the law; you have no right to come in without a warrant. This is private property, so I am giving you warning. Get out!’

Emily’s frightened face now appeared at the top of the stairs. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Go back into the flat, Emily, and shut the door; this woman wants to talk to you and she can’t.’

‘Why not let me just speak to her? It will only take a few moments,’ said Anna calmly.

‘No. If she talks to you, she wants a solicitor with her.’

‘Why don’t you stay with her?’

‘Because I don’t want to! I don’t want you here. I am going to make a formal complaint. Now go away.’ She lifted the riding crop.

Anna hesitated; she looked past Justine to the frightened Emily, and shrugged. ‘Okay, you can contact your solicitor, and he can accompany you to the station. I was just hoping that this could be less formal.’

‘Why do you want to see me?’ Emily asked in a high-pitched voice.

‘I am not prepared to discuss this on the stairs,’ Anna said firmly.

‘I don’t want to go to the police station!’

Justine turned towards her sister. ‘Go back and shut the door. Just do what I tell you to do; you will not be taken to any police station.’

‘Well, she very likely will be, if she doesn’t talk to me now.’

Justine turned her fury back to Anna. ‘Piss off! You can’t frighten me! She has done nothing wrong and you should just leave her alone.’

‘I only want to ask a few questions.’

Anna was caught off guard as Justine suddenly launched an attack. The riding crop in her left hand, she jumped down the stairs, and with her right hand she gripped Anna’s shirt front, pushing her backwards and hitting her head against the wall. Justine hauled Anna back to her feet and was about to bring down the crop on her face.

‘Stop it, stop it!’ Emily ran down the stairs and tried to get between them but Justine turned and grabbed her sister’s hair, hauling her away, giving Anna a chance to back off. The doorbell rang; whoever it was kept their hand on the bell so it was a persistent high-pitched wail. Emily ran back up the stairs and into her flat.

‘Don’t answer it!’ Justine shouted, as Anna made her escape. She ran to the front door and opened it.

Langton stood there. ‘What the hell is going on? I could hear screams.’

Before Anna could explain, Justine appeared.

‘Get out. Do you hear me? Get out!’

Langton stepped between them; he gripped Justine by the throat and pushed her hard against the wall. ‘Calm down, you hear me? Calm down or you’ll be arrested.’

Justine tried to bite him; she was almost frothing at the mouth with rage, but he held on and forced her to drop the riding crop. She looked crazed; her eyes bulged and spittle formed at the corners of her snarling mouth. ‘Arrest me for what? She broke into my sister’s flat; I know the law!’

Langton slowly released his hold. His voice was low and threatening. ‘You have two seconds to leave, and don’t think you’ve heard the last of this. One…’

He never got to say ‘two’ as Justine shrugged him off and walked out of the house. Emily was nowhere to be seen. Anna looked past him and up the stairs to the flat.

‘The door was open; I just came to the stairs and called out…’

‘How did you get in to this floor?’

‘Someone let me in; another tenant, I think.’

He nodded, then frowned as he looked at her face; she had a slash mark on her cheek. ‘Did she do this to you?’

Anna rubbed her head. ‘Yes, she pushed me against the wall.’

‘Do you want to bring charges?’

Anna shrugged. Langton looked at his hand where Justine had tried to bite it. ‘Strong as an ox, isn’t she?’

He gently held her head and felt where it had cracked against the wall. ‘Going to have a god-awful bump on the back of your head. Do you feel dizzy at all?’

‘No.’

He ran his thumb along the red weal on her cheek. ‘Well, it didn’t break the skin.’ He sighed. ‘Christ, what a fucking family.’ Langton looked up at the closed flat door. ‘We found some bloodstains at Justine’s flat; they’re being tested. You think this is a good time to talk to Emily or do you want to leave it?’

‘Well, if she lets us in, why not, as we’re both here?’

They headed up the stairs and knocked on the door. There was no answer; then Anna noticed water dripping down the wall into the stairwell. They could hear the gush of an overflow pipe.

‘Is it from her flat?’ Langton asked, staring down.

Anna said it had to be. He put his shoulder against the door. It took a good few tries before the lock gave way and the door burst open.

Emily Wickenham was lying in the bath, the water becoming a deeper red by the second. Langton hauled her out, getting soaked in the process, as Anna called for an ambulance. Emily had not made a very good job of her suicide attempt: only one wrist was cut to the artery. Langton made a tourniquet from a pair of tights drying on a line in the bathroom.

They both travelled with Emily to the emergency ward at Charing Cross Hospital. She was tested for drugs and the doctors pumped the paracetamol out of her stomach. Langton contacted Charles Wickenham and told him about Emily’s situation. He said little, just a curt thank you for letting him know. Langton was still wearing his bloodstained clothes, his cuffs and shirt front stained heavily. He went off with a nurse to see if they could find something for him to wear. When he returned, he was wearing a rugby shirt borrowed from a male nurse and carried his own shirt in a plastic bag. He sat beside Anna and checked his watch.

‘You want a coffee? There’s a machine up the corridor?’

‘No thanks.’

Langton walked off. It was another hour before they got news that Emily was in the clear, though very weak and sorry for herself. The doctor doubted that she would be in a fit state to talk to them, but it would be up to them if they wanted to wait.

It was after eleven when, to their surprise, Edward rather than Charles Wickenham arrived. He said little but seemed very agitated, not due to Emily’s suicide attempt, but the inconvenience it had created.

‘She’s tried this before; her wrists are like a patchwork quilt!’

The same young doctor returned and called a nurse to take Edward in to see Emily.

Langton yawned. ‘I guess we can go; nice of him to thank us.’

The nurse appeared and gestured to Langton. He joined her and they conferred before he returned to Anna.

‘Emily wants to see you.’

‘Me?’

‘Yes, you. I’ll wait here.’

Edward Wickenham was sitting in a chair by Emily’s bedside, reading a newspaper. ‘I can’t wait much longer. Father said you had to come back with me. I’ve spoken to the nurse and doctor.’

He gave an irritated glance at the interruption as Anna tapped and entered. She was shocked to see how pale Emily was; her eyes were sunken and her skin looked like parchment.

‘You wanted to see me?’ she asked tentatively.

Emily nodded. Both her wrists were bandaged and she had a glucose drip in her right arm. She gave Anna a pleading look, then glanced back to her brother.

‘She can’t talk to anyone now, that must be obvious.’ Edward Wickenham folded his newspaper. ‘I’m arranging to take Emily home; anything that you need to speak to her about can be done from there when she has recovered. My father is, after all, a qualified doctor so there is no need to worry about my sister’s care.’

Edward seemed not to notice Emily shrink with fear, but Anna did.

‘Perhaps you should talk to my superior; he’s still outside in the waiting room.’

Wickenham pursed his lips; he moved close to the bed and whispered to Emily. ‘Don’t say anything you will regret. I’ll be two seconds.’ He hesitated, not wanting to leave Anna alone with his sister, but then walked out.

Anna went close to the bed. Emily’s voice quavered, frail. ‘Please don’t let them take me; they’ll get me locked up. Please help me.’

‘I really can’t stop your brother; I have no right to do that.’

‘You wanted to talk to me; I will, if you help me.’

Anna looked across to the door and then back at Emily. ‘I’ll see if they need to keep you in overnight. I would have thought they would automatically want to keep you in for observation.’

‘Yes, yes, let me stay here.’

Anna felt uneasy leaving the girl alone, but knew she had to act quickly.

Langton was still sitting in the waiting room; when she walked in, he looked at his watch impatiently. ‘There’s not a lot either of us can do here. I suggest we leave and see her tomorrow.’

‘Did her brother come in to talk to you?’

‘No.’

Anna sat beside him. ‘She’s terrified of being taken home. She said they will section her, put her away. If that happens, you know we will have a hard time taking anything she says as evidence.’

‘We can’t stop him; they’re her family.’

‘Isn’t there something we can do? Maybe talk to the doctors and suggest they keep her here overnight? Or at least until we’ve had time to talk to her: because she will talk now, I’m sure of it.’

Langton stood up and stretched his arms. ‘Thing is, what do you think she knows? I mean, we know she was not at the house when Louise Pennel was there, so whatever she knows must hark back to the incest situation, which we are pretty sure went on. But it still doesn’t give us any evidence connected to the murder.’

‘But what if she does know something? You saw her sister was vicious enough and angry enough to try and stop her talking to me. It’s worth a try getting them to keep her here and giving me a chance to see what she can give us.’

Langton yawned and looked at his watch again. ‘Let me talk to the doctor but I’m not hanging around here any longer; I’m knackered.’ He left the waiting room.

Anna sat for a moment before she returned to Emily’s room. She was sitting up on the edge of the bed; they had put some thick pink woolly socks on her feet. The girl was skin and bone, and the white hospital-issue nightdress gaped at the back. She was still hooked up to the glucose drip and now seemed even more frail and frightened. Her hair hung in limp strands around her wan face as she stared at the floor.

Anna sat beside her. ‘I’ve asked my superior to talk to the doctor, but there is really little we can do to keep you here if they agree to your release.’

Emily said nothing. She didn’t even raise her head when the door opened and a nurse came in to take her blood pressure.

‘Surely she should be kept in overnight?’ Anna said to the nurse, who wound Emily’s left arm in the black Velcro-tipped cloth. She slipped on the gauge and pumped, watching the dial, and then let the air hiss out.