‘Just wondering,’ Anna shrugged.
‘Want me to find out?’ Harry asked.
‘No, no. I was just thinking ahead really.’ She did not want to tell any lies, but remembered her promise to Jimmy to stay silent about his progress.
‘How’s it going with him?’
‘Oh, coming along well enough to make my life a misery,’ she joked.
‘My wife does that to me every day and night. One of my kids has bad asthma and she sometimes has to deal with his attacks solo. We’ve been in and out of A&E more times than I’ve had hot dinners.’
Harry continued to talk about his son’s asthma and what a game little boy he was, and how frustrating it was because he was such a fighter. Anna smiled and nodded. Langton was a fighter all right; she just wished he would call. She, more than anyone else, knew how important it was for him to get past the police review board. The day dragged on and, driving home, she was unsure of how she would be able to deal with his rejection.
The massive bouquet of flowers was propped on his rowing machine. There was a large card attached to the stems, with her name scrawled in black felt-tipped pen. She opened the envelope. It was actually a birthday card, but he had scribbled over the message and written: For my little red-headed nurse. She bit her lip; it was such a simple gesture but so unexpected from him. There was a bottle of champagne on ice in the kitchen sink. He was taking a shower; she opened the bathroom door.
‘Why didn’t you call me?’
He turned, his hair filled with soapsuds, and grabbed her, drawing her under the water jets. She tried to struggle free, but he wouldn’t let her go and he kissed her with such passion she relented and clung to him. She knew her suit would shrink and her shoes would be ruined, but it didn’t matter.
Langton had passed the physical examination and spent the afternoon with the Chief Medical Officer, who turned out to be someone he had known for years. After the test, they had gone to a bar and had a few drinks.
‘I’m back, Anna! I return to full operational duties next week!’
She couldn’t chide him about not contacting her, he was so full of energy and enthusiasm. He told her a number of times about the questions and tests he’d been put through for the psychological part, and how he’d walked through it with ease.
‘They didn’t stand a hope in hell of catching me out,’ he said. Anna caught him flick a glance towards her.
‘What do you mean by that?’ she asked.
‘Nothing.’ She could tell he wished he’d kept his mouth shut.
‘Caught you out? That’s what you said — that they didn’t stand a hope in hell of catching you out.’
‘For Chrissakes! I just meant they didn’t suss that my knee is not in as good a shape as it should be.’
‘What did they make you do?’
He sighed with impatience. ‘Run on a treadmill, rowing machine, monitored my heart, et cetera, et cetera.’
‘And it hurt?’
‘Of course it bloody did! But you tell me how often I am gonna need to row over a river to catch someone.’ He laughed.
She took a deep breath. ‘I want to talk to you.’
‘Just drop this, Anna, please. Let’s finish the champagne and go to bed.’
‘It’s not about the review. It’s something I should have told you about weeks ago, but I didn’t. The time was never right, and then—’
‘You want me to leave?’
The look on his face made her want to wrap him in her arms. ‘No, of course I don’t.’
‘Well what is it? Is it something I’ve done?’
‘No. Now just shut up for a minute and let me tell you. It’s connected in a way to the case I’ve been on. It’s about this guy called Sickert.’
‘Who the hell is he?’
‘Please don’t interrupt me, just listen.’
Langton poured more champagne and then sat with the glass held loosely in his hands as Anna gave him a short summation of the reasons why they had interviewed Gail Sickert, about the photograph and how Anna had returned to the bungalow to see her again. At this point, she got up and opened a drawer, taking out her small tape recorder, and returned to sit opposite him. He put his feet up on the coffee-table and sipped the champagne. He was listening, but he also yawned.
Anna continued talking quietly, not looking at him. She described how she had hurried back to her car as Sickert drew up in his truck.
‘This is what he shouted at me. It’s quite hard to hear everything, but listen.’
She then pressed Play on the tape. Langton leaned forwards. She watched him as it got to the point when Sickert threatened her. The tape stopped. He leaned back and gestured for her to replay it. She did; then he drained the glass of champagne and placed it down on the coffee-table.
‘Describe him,’ he said quietly.
Anna did so, and he nodded his head.
‘Anyone in your team opened their mouths about us? Me?’
‘No, I’ve asked, and neither Arthur Murphy nor Vernon Kramer could have known about our relationship.’
‘This Sickert got a record?’
‘No, I only just found out his Christian name yesterday — it’s Joseph — but there’s nothing on him on the database.’
‘You tell me why you think he said what he said.’
Anna shrugged. ‘Well, it could have just been a blind threat — you know, coincidence — and I would have sort of accepted it, until—’
‘Until what?’
‘Well, they’ve disappeared, and in a hurry — that’s Gail, her three kids and Sickert. Yesterday her mother called and asked to speak to me; she wouldn’t come into the station, so I met her in a café. She’s worried about Gail and her kids as she’s made no contact. We’ve reported it to the local cop shop, but whether or not social services will help trace her, we don’t know. Her mother wanted me to file a missing person’s report, which you know I can’t do. She said she forwards on Gail’s child-support cheques from Newcastle, where she herself lives, and as she’s had no contact, she’s been unable to send them.’
Langton remained silent.
‘She had no money, the place was a shithole, and they owed rent. The kids had been on the risk-lists of a number of social services from Newcastle to London. Gail herself had taken out a restraining order against her brother Arthur Murphy; he had molested her when she was a kid.’
‘But he’s banged up, isn’t he?’
‘Yes, since his arrest. The trial’s due and it’s very unlikely he’ll be out in under twelve years. Vernon got eighteen months for his part in hiding out Murphy and, as he broke his parole, he will serve out the rest of his sentence: maybe two years. It’s all so murky. Vernon is the father of Gail’s youngest child, but she found out he was going after her elder daughter, so she kicked him out. She must have met Vernon through her brother — he’s got a record for being a sex offender, it’s so sick — anyway, at some point after her husband had left her, she then met up with Sickert — maybe via them, I wouldn’t know — but it had to be within the last year or so; the little girl is still in nappies and looks about eighteen months old. Obviously, the local cops will report back to us if they find any connection to our murder enquiry, because it is worrying that Gail has not contacted her mother for her money…’
Langton remained silent again as Anna trailed off. She reached over to touch his arm, but he withdrew it.
‘I was going to tell you so many times, and then… You know, it could all be coincidence, what he said to me. What do you think?’