Closeted in Cunningham's office, Langton was certain that Anna had stumbled on a situation bigger by far than they realized. The murder of Frank Brandon, he believed, was part and parcel of the atrocious intention of someone, perhaps Fitzpatrick, preparing to import quantities of Fentanyl into the UK. A kilo of the drug, worth millions, would be very easy to move through customs.
He sat listening to Anna run through the reasons why she had begun to believe Fitzpatrick could be in England. She spoke quietly, head bowed, as she recalled all the events to date, occasionally referring to her notebook. She did not, at any time, gloss over the suppositions and the doubts that even she had, but listed the loose tentacles. Her doubts were the same as Phil's: although the amount of money to be made from the sale of Fentanyl would obviously be substantial, was it enough to draw Fitzpatrick back into the world of drug trafficking? There had been no sighting of him for over fifteen years. Anna did not have any evidence, but she did say—very firmly—that she really felt a key to their inquiry lay with Honour and Damien Nolan and Julia Brandon. However, to date, she had not been able to get Julia to talk—and she had not had the backing from Cunningham to press for warrants to search the farm.
Langton turned to stare at the downcast Cunningham, who sat on a chair by the wall with her arms folded.
"I didn't mean that to sound as if I was in any way querying DCI Cunningham's investigation—the new developments only really arose today and over the last weekend—but I do think we need to search both sisters' premises."
"So this Julia situation, with regard to the four million—you only found out today?"
"Yes."
"Take me through the Frank Brandon marriage again."
Anna repeated all she knew about his marriage to Julia, the girlfriend he was supposed to marry, and what she had seen in the Windmill car park that morning in Wimbledon. "You think she is scared of something or someone?""Why hire Frank as a bodyguard if she didn't need protection? These two goons looked like ex-army.""Maybe she just wanted to fuck him," Langton said."You haven't met her," she snapped back.Cunningham glanced at Anna, surprised at the way she had spoken to Langton, but he didn't seem in any way fazed, far from it: he laughed. "I'll take your word for it, then."Sam Power had remained silent throughout the entire interaction. Now he got up and leaned against the wall. "I've got my team digging up anything we can get for you, but it is a lot of supposition. I'm not that confident that DI Travis is correct about Fitzpatrick. If it pans out, and we get a sighting or any concrete evidence, we will have to work together."Langton glanced at him and then back to Anna. "What we need is fingerprints; don't tell me a guy is up for trial without there being a single set of his prints retained on record."Sam shook his head. "It was before the database. Even if there were, they'd not be on file twenty-odd years later."" 'Course they would; he skipped bail, didn't he?"Anna coughed. "I've already made inquiries and, to date, we have no prints on Fitzpatrick."Langton clapped his hands as if to draw everyone's attention back to him. "Okay, let's not waste time. You move on that, Sam; in the meantime, we should structure surveillance on the farm and on Julia Brandon—perhaps this time not making it that obvious! We also need to get more details on Fentanyl and the thefts in the U.S. Right now you have four dead men and no suspect! So we are really going to have to put pressure on, all round."He stood up and turned to Cunningham, thanking her for coming in, as he knew she had personal issues. Cunningham assured him that, as from that evening, she would not require any further time off."Can I see you in your office?" he said to Anna. She gave a small nod."Right. Tomorrow, we'll outline how we proceed in more detail.
Thank you both." He nodded to Sam and back to Anna; it was a cue for them to leave.
Sam and Anna walked along the corridor. When they got to her office, he stopped and said, "Look, I'm sorry if I appeared dismissive about your investigation when you came to see me this morning."
"That's okay."
"It isn't. Now with Langton breathing down Cunningham's neck, he'll also be coming on to my lads. It's not going to be easy: Drug Squad and murder teams like to work their own cases."
Anna opened her office door, eager for Sam to go. "Sam, we have four dead men. If the lead to their murder is drugs, then it's obvious we have to work as closely as possible."
"Yeah, I know—but we will want to control the surveillance."
"That's not my decision. I think tomorrow we'll all have our work cut out for us by Langton. The sooner it's set up, the better; I also think you need to go over all the old cases of busts at the Chalk Farm estate. Maybe the same guys could be involved."
"I agree. No doubt I'll see you in the morning."
"Good night," she said, entering her office. She was relieved when he walked on down the corridor. She closed her door and not until she was alone did she feel as if she needed something to calm her nerves. She had not shown a single sign of how much tension she had felt with Langton, but now it was obvious: her hands were shaking.