‘Getting crowded in there,’ she said with a rueful smile.
Meanwhile Barbara came over and handed Anna some computer printouts.
‘What are these about?’
‘Your checks into Cherokee Jeeps paid off. Three hits in London for making off without paying for petrol, same model and colour as the stolen vehicle but using false plates.’
Anna looked through the printouts. All three incidents occurred after the Jeep was stolen in Cobham, and the last one was in Shepherd’s Bush the day before Rebekka disappeared.
‘Any CCTV of the drivers?’
‘No. Usual thing with that type of crime – garage attendant reports it, no one bothers to investigate it. There’s a verbal description taken when the report was made and each one is the right age group for Oates but other details differ.’
‘This is fantastic work, Barbara. Well done,’ Anna said excitedly.
‘Thanks, Anna.’
One hour later, Commander Leigh left with DCS Hedges. They didn’t speak to anyone, but walked straight out of the incident room. Langton eventually emerged from the office with Mike, who looked very tense as he asked for everyone’s attention and to gather round for a briefing. Anna watched Langton ease himself into a hard-backed chair. If he was in any pain he was going to great lengths not to show it.
The outcome of the briefing was that not only would the team continue their investigations into the murders of Fidelis Julia Flynn and Rebekka Jordan, but they would also be joined by ten more officers to assist in the investigation of any other cases arising from the findings in Henry Oates’s basement.
‘The ongoing searches will continue,’ Mike told them, ‘and we will use the two outer rooms to accommodate everyone, so we will be setting up desks and computers this afternoon.’
There were a lot of looks flying round the room, but not from Langton, who sat with his head bowed, staring at the floor.
‘It will be an opportunity for everyone involved to cross-reference all the evidence gathered to date, and let’s face it, we’ve got a lot going on,’ Mike concluded. ‘Any questions, save them for this afternoon’s briefing, which we will kick off at three. Lastly, but not least, Henry Oates will be brought in for interview tomorrow, so let’s get this show on the road.’
Much disruption followed this announcement as desks and chairs were found and brought in, and computers set up. Langton remained sitting by the incident board despite the mayhem that surrounded him, making copious notes. Meanwhile, Anna put in a call to the Murphys. Mrs Murphy was not at home, but her husband answered. Anna asked if he could recall again in his mind the time his wife had seen Henry Oates returning home covered in chalk dust. Mr Murphy without hesitation repeated that he was certain it was two weeks before his gates arrived. Although he had noticed Oates around for some considerable time previously, he had had no interaction with him. He maintained he remembered the date because it had scared his wife and he spoke with Oates about it when he helped with the gates. He also confirmed it was very late at night because his wife couldn’t sleep. Anna thanked him and then crossed to the incident board, where she underlined the words ‘chalk dust’ and ‘Taplow Quarry’.
‘What’s that?’ Langton asked, watching her.
‘Henry Oates was seen by a neighbour that lived across the street from his basement. The same week Rebekka Jordan disappeared, he was spotted walking home at two o’clock in the morning, covered in what he later claimed was chalk dust, said that a bag of it had fallen on him.’
Langton stared and then shrugged his shoulders.
‘It’s a massive quarry, and he tried to get work there, so he knows the area,’ Anna persisted.
‘How far from London is it?’ Langton asked.
‘It’s in Buckinghamshire, up the M40 and M4, not far from Heathrow.’
Langton sucked in his breath. ‘Point being?’
‘I think Oates was still using the stolen Jeep. He changed the plates,’ Anna said, pointing to her notes on the board about petrol thefts.
‘Try me again, what is the point?’
Anna chewed her lips. ‘It’s just supposition.’
‘I gather that,’ Langton retorted. ‘Well it’s just such a vast open space, and a good hiding place for a body, even the vehicle you transported it in.’
He nodded.
‘You been there?’
‘No. I can bring it up on my computer for you to see.’ He eased himself to stand upright. ‘Let’s go and take a look.’
‘To the quarry?’ Anna asked, surprised by Langton’s suggestion.
‘Yes, to the quarry, not a lot we can do until everyone is gathered.’
Surprised but pleased, Anna agreed.
‘Where’s he going?’ Mike asked and Joan shrugged.
Barbara indicated with a pencil. ‘They were talking about Taplow Quarry.’
‘What?’
Mike gritted his teeth and glanced over at Anna’s scrawled writing with her arrows in different colours linking locations and dates.
‘Well so long as he is kept out of my hair that’s fine by me.’
‘Henry Oates applied for a job there six years ago,’ Joan said.
Mike, still obviously very rattled, snapped back, ‘Six years! Jesus Christ, what bloody good is that to us?’
Joan flushed. ‘Angela Thornton, the girl that maybe owned the gold bracelet found in Oates’s basement, she disappeared shortly after Rebekka Jordan.’
‘Get Barolli to show it to her parents.’
Mike slammed into his office and took out a bottle of aspirin. His head was thudding, the kind of headache that cuts right across the eyes. He had accused Langton of interfering and overstepping his position, and had thought for a moment Langton was going to punch him, but instead the DCS had told Mike bitterly how he was overstepping the mark bringing in Edward Samuels without telling him. He had been, in case Mike was unaware of it, the chief investigating officer on the Rebekka Jordan case, and as such he had every right to be privy to information now the file had been reopened. Mike sighed. Now it appeared the old bastard was digging into the Angela Thornton disappearance as well.
Mike swallowed three aspirins, and drained the bottle of water. He was not looking forward to this afternoon and he knew he would have to get his act together. Langton wasn’t just looking over his shoulder, he was sitting on it.
Chapter Thirteen
Langton collected his walking stick from the duty sergeant at the station’s reception desk. Anna smiled – typical, always the macho man refusing to let anyone see that he was still recovering.
‘How you feeling?’ she asked as she bleeped open the Mini passenger door and then moved the front seat as far back as possible for him. ‘You know we’ll be cutting it a bit fine to be back for three.’
He ignored her flicking through his notebook.
‘You and Mike seemed to have been having a bit of a confrontation,’ she tried.
‘He didn’t drop you in it about Samuels, took the blame himself. Anything else you might have missed?’ he said sarcastically.
‘Nope, just that he’s been run ragged with the case and the mounting finances; his budget must be in trouble.’
‘It isn’t now, that’s why I came in today.’
‘That’s good.’
‘Yes, means I am still given enough kudos by the powers that be. To be honest, if this was to hit the press it wouldn’t look good for any of us, but it’d be worse for Mike as he’s heading up the investigation. Just looking out for his best interests and at first he didn’t like’- he gave a short humourless laugh – ‘quote, my continual interference, but I slapped him back down about Samuels.’
‘Very informative though.’
‘Well I am glad you feel that way, Travis, and contrary to Samuels’ advice you will be doing the main interview with me.’