“How do you like your steak?” she shouted to the bathroom.
“Medium, and there are some chips in the freezer.”
“Already got them. How long will you be?”
“Five minutes.”
Anna set the horrible Formica table in the kitchen and then found plates and napkins. By the time Ken came into the kitchen wearing the dressing gown, the steaks were frying.
He leaned forward to kiss her neck, and she sniffed and murmured, “Mmmm — you smell nice. Let me guess, is it Clinique Happy for men?”
He stepped back and flushed.
“I saw it in your bathroom,” Anna explained. “What — did you think I’m an expert on men’s aftershave because I have sex with so many?”
“It was given to me by my sister,” Ken said. “She’d probably bought it for her old man but gave it to me.”
“I like it.”
“Well, that’s okay, then. I’ll splash it all over my body.”
They didn’t waste time clearing away the debris of dinner but went straight to bed. Around midnight, Anna woke up and spent a long time looking at Ken’s sleeping face, leaning up on her elbow. It had all happened so fast, and it was hard to believe that she was so besotted. He slowly opened his eyes as if he had felt her looking at him. She hadn’t touched him because she didn’t want to wake him.
“What?” he murmured.
“I love you,” she said shyly.
He reached out and drew her close to him. “What are we going to do about that?”
She laughed as he slowly moved to lie on top of her.
Anna was still sleeping when Ken’s alarm went off. It was seven-thirty, but he was not beside her. She got up and wrapped his dressing gown around her. There was coffee in the kitchen, but he wasn’t in the shower, so she went into the lounge. He was doing push-ups on a blanket, wearing only a pair of boxer shorts.
“I didn’t want to wake you,” he panted. “Coffee is nearly ready, and there are bagels and smoked salmon, as I know you like them. I’ve got twenty minutes before I have to leave. I’m on early duty.”
By the time she had drunk her coffee, he was dressed and ready to go to work.
“I’ve left a number by the phone of a local taxi firm. Sorry I can’t take you to the station myself, but I have to be on duty due to having strong-armed the other lads to get off early last night. I don’t know if I can swing it for the weekend, but if I can’t, would you be prepared to come here again?”
“Yes, but not to see Welsh!”
Grabbing a quick swig of coffee, he kissed her neck and started to leave. Then he paused and turned toward her, saying, “Last night, did you mean what you said?”
She blushed and pretended not to understand. He came to her and cupped her face in his hands. “I love you, too, Anna Travis.”
Then he was gone and she wanted to cry. She wanted to run after him and wrap her arms around him. Instead, she finished her coffee and ate too much, but because he’d bought the bagels and salmon especially for her, she felt that she should.
She did all the washing up and cleaned the kitchen, took a shower and washed her hair again, then packed. Taxi arranged, she went into the lounge, finding it strange being in his flat alone. He had left a set of dumbbells and the blanket he’d been using on the bricked wood floor. She bent down as if to pick it up, fold it, and put it away when she froze. It was a blue blanket — newer, cleaner, and with a prison laundry mark in the right-hand corner, but she was certain it was identical to the blue blanket found wrapped around the victim Dorota Pelagia.
Chapter Eleven
Anna had a terrible few moments of panic. Her mind went completely blank in a hideous mental block. She took deep breaths, refusing to allow herself to even contemplate the connection between Ken, the blanket, and the killer. She knew she would have to discuss it with him, and immediately, but the fear that he could be involved made her throw up in the toilet.
Afterward, she splashed cold water over her face and then called the prison to ask to be put through to the secure unit, as it was of the utmost importance. She was told that it was against regulations for the officers in the unit to take personal calls. Fighting to keep control of her voice, she explained who she was and said it was imperative she speak to Officer Hudson.
It was a while before Ken came to the phone; the first thing he asked was if she was all right. He was afraid there had been some kind of accident.
“I’m fine, Ken, but just before I left your flat, I noticed that you’d been exercising on a blanket. It’s prison issue — a blue one — and I need to know why you have it.”
“You’re joking?”
“No, I’m not. It’s very important. Ken, can you tell me about the blanket?”
“It was in the flat when I moved in. They give them out, or they did, to the officers in the flats. Most of them bring in their own bedding, obviously. I don’t think they are part of the prison issue anymore, but there must be hundreds still used in cells... What’s so important?”
“Can I take it with me back to the station?”
“Whatever for? Are you having me on?”
“No. I wish I were, because I can’t really discuss it with you, but can you call me later when you are off duty and I’ll explain?”
“Explain it now, Anna. I was almost having a heart attack in case you’d been hurt.”
Anna felt her body breaking out in a cold sweat. “All right,” she said, and swallowed. “One of our victims was found wrapped in an identical blanket — the same color, but with no laundry mark. We’ll need to find out if they were also issued to other prisons.”
There was a pause, and then Ken asked if she wanted him to check it out for her.
“No, station will get on to it.”
“Okay, but you be honest now, did you think I had something to do with it? You didn’t, did you, Anna?”
“Of course I didn’t,” she lied, “but I just needed to check it all out with you. Look, I’ve got to go, the taxi is here to take me to the station.”
She felt terrible that she had, for a moment, had a hideous suspicion that he could in some way be involved. During the taxi ride, she rang the incident room and gave them the blanket discovery, making no mention that she had found it in Ken Hudson’s flat, but insisting that the team needed to find out how many prisons used the blue blankets for their inmates. She also spoke to Mike Lewis about the Cameron Welsh interview, repeating that he was adamant regarding the Margaret Potts connection and that he had even suggested the killer could use a police officer’s uniform to entice the victims to trust him.
“Or it could even be a prison officer’s uniform,” she added, and felt her body break into a sweat again.
The journey to King’s Cross seemed to take forever, as there were faults on the line and delays, so she didn’t get back to the incident room until late afternoon. She immediately passed the blanket over to be sent to the forensic lab.
The team had discovered that the blankets were imported by a company in Wembley and made for them in China. The company had ordered a massive consignment, delivered over four years to five prisons, but had recently lost contracts, as the inmates didn’t like them and preferred duvets. These blankets were also used at police stations in Manchester for prisoners held overnight in the cells. The remainder, since the prisons had stopped ordering, had been delivered to hostels around London. They were looking at hundreds of thousands of these blue blankets, and it promised another lengthy, tedious line of inquiry.