They continued to walk along the corridor, and Langton put his arm around her shoulders as he listened.
“If we can find out that Smiley was a regular client of Maggie’s, we have a phone call from her to Emerald in which she says something about the Evening Standard newspaper, but she also sounds drunk, so I’m not sure where I’m going with this.”
“Try me,” Langton said briefly.
“Okay. We’ve checked back to a possible day or night when the call was made from a pay phone, maybe at the service station. Margaret said she wanted to come over to Hackney to stay, but Emerald apparently refused. Anyway, the Standard ran a front page on the blue-blanket victim we now know to be Dorota Pelagia...” Anna stopped. “I haven’t got this sorted in my brain because of the odd time frame, but what if Margaret Potts read about the blue-blanket murder and worked out that it was connected to John Smiley?”
“Tried to blackmail him, something like that?”
“Maybe... so she had to be got rid of — which is why she is the odd victim out, so to speak.”
Langton had left his arm around her shoulder, and she found it a bit uncomfortable, but she wasn’t able to simply shrug him away.
“It’s possible,” Langton agreed. “I mean, she might not have known where Smiley worked, and had no means of contacting him until she saw him at the services, or alternatively, she was often in contact with him...”
Anna stepped away so he dropped his arm. “I think I need to go back and question everyone who knew her again, and that includes Emerald Turk. Again, this is something that’s just sort of clicked and...” She came to a halt.
“Yes? Share it.”
“Well, Emerald Turk was wearing an outfit she said had been left in Margaret Potts’s suitcase. It was a very expensive velvet-type tracksuit, and she also said there had been some other clothes.”
“Where’s this going?”
“Money. Everyone tells me that Margaret Potts never had anything and was always desperate for cash, but if she was blackmailing someone — John Smiley — she might have had cash, and she wasn’t seen around the service station a few weeks before her murder.” Anna sighed. “I really need to sit down with all my notes and work out the time frame for all this.”
Langton cupped her face in his hands, saying, “You take as much time as you need, sweetheart.”
It was as if he were about to kiss her. Quickly, she pulled back, and just in time, as Barbara appeared in the corridor, heading for the ladies’ toilets.
A lawyer was arranged for John Smiley, but it took over two hours for him to arrive. James Gregson was young and deliberated over virtually everything they told him. He expressed concern about the legality of holding Smiley in custody without formal charges, and Langton, taking the bit between his teeth, said they had direct witness evidence that Smiley knew and had met Margaret Potts. Gregson went off to speak with his client as Mike brought Langton up to speed about the possibility of the chain or cord from Swell Blinds being used to strangle the victims.
“Jesus Christ, when did you come up with this?”
“Looking over the postmortem reports. I’ve sent the link chain from the vertical blinds up in the incident room over to forensics, and we’re waiting on a delivery of the actual cord and chains used by Swell Blinds. They’re being brought down from Manchester.”
“Get them from Emerald Turk’s flat as well. She’s got both, hasn’t she?”
Mike hadn’t thought of that, and he flushed, but Langton dug him in the ribs.
“Now you’re cooking.”
Smiley was with Gregson for two hours, and it was now after seven-thirty. At eight o’clock Langton and Lewis informed them both that Smiley’s further detention for questioning had been authorized and they would continue the interview until the morning. Smiley was allowed to call his wife to let her know that he was to remain in custody overnight.
Langton made no mention to Gregson that they were waiting on a result from the cord and chains from forensics. It had been disappointing when Pete had called to say that the chain from the incident room was thicker than the indentations left on the victim’s neck; although it was similar, the small raised links were wider apart. As the items from Swell Blinds had now been delivered from Manchester, he would hopefully have a new and possibly different result by morning.
Chapter Thirteen
Anna spent most of Thursday evening trying to mark up the exact time frame between Emerald Turk’s statements and the discovery of the bodies. When Ken rang at ten o’clock, she was ready to call it quits for the night. He commented that she sounded tired, and she gave him a brief rundown of the long day. She doubted that she would get the weekend off, but even if it was just Sunday, she said she might drive up to see him.
“Well, it might be a waste of time.” Ken groaned. “We’ve had a few problems, and with me skipping off for more free time than I’m allowed, it looks as if I’ll be working.”
“Sunday as well?”
“Yep.”
“What’s been happening?”
“It’s Cameron Welsh — he’s being a real pain in the arse. You wouldn’t believe what he looks like.”
“How do you mean?”
“He’s not washed since around the last time you saw him. His hair is lank and dirty, he stinks, he’s not shaved or eaten, and he’s making trouble with all the other inmates in the unit.”
“Do you know why?”
“We don’t have to have a reason; sometimes it’s just down to stir craziness, but we’ll have to get a doctor in to see him if he carries on. It’s often a prelude to something going to blow. He shat all over his bedlinen, and no matter how many privileges we’ve removed from him, he remains a belligerent nasty sod. Plus, he’s been stealing from the other inmates, which creates havoc.”
“Is he violent?”
“No. He has a thing against me, though — spat in my face this morning. Tomorrow we’ve asked him to be checked over, get something to calm him down, but we’ve had him screaming and shouting all night long. If you ask me, he’s gone a bit gaga.”
“When will you know if you have to work?”
“It depends. I have more experience than a couple of the other officers; it gets quite hairy in here. Secure unit is a small place and very claustrophobic. We have to turn around duty so we don’t get as nuts as the prisoners.”
“Well, let’s hope we can meet up. I really miss you.”
“I tell you, if it’s not this weekend, I’m riding down the first opportunity I can get, and I’m sorry if I’ve sounded like a moaning twat. It’s just I’ve had my fill today — in fact, I’ve got to go back in. I’m over in the main prison getting a bite to eat.”
“Take care. I love you.”
“Do you have a photograph you can send me?”
She laughed and said she’d dig one out, but they were mostly from her childhood. She asked him to send her one of him in return.
“Kiss good night, then.”
Anna went straight to her desk and rummaged through the drawers, bringing out old photo albums. She thumbed through all the pictures of herself with her parents and then found one of herself at age eleven, doing a cartwheel. She took it out of the album and drew a heart on the back. You make my heart somersault, she wrote beneath it, then tucked it into an envelope, ready to send it off in the morning.