am stupid—I'd never really done anything on my own but, whilst I was planning it, I felt stronger than I had ever felt.As if I was, for the first time, in charge of my own life, not treated like some object that could be kept quiet with presents and flash cars." Julia drained the glass of brandy and hurled it against the wall. It splintered and fell soundlessly on the thick-pile carpet."Julia, listen to me. If this man has taken your children—""Emily and Kathy are his children—-his money provided for them," she said dully. "He will have got passports—by now they'll be on a plane somewhere.""This man is wanted in the United States as well as here."Julia gave a strange, hard laugh. "He's been wanted for how many years? You told me that! You say he is this Alexander Fitzpatrick—well, how long have you been trying to find him? Twenty years? Thirty? He is out of your reach, and out of mine. At least he's left me alive. I even believed him when he said that if I gave him four million, he would disappear; he had no intention of walking away from the rest of the money. He forced Rushton to reverse all the accounts we'd worked on hiding, back into his hands.""We wish to question him about the murder of David Rushton."Julia gave a hollow laugh. "Question him? You'll have to find him first! He was in England from the moment I moved into this house, laughing because nobody could ever touch him; somehow he got to Frank as well. You know what is sick? All I'll be left with is Frank's insurance money! Still, it's something out of all this mess; I deserve that much at least. So, now you know it all."Anna stared as Julia's egotistical side emerged. She loathed the sight of her, but she wasn't finished. She now had to find out exactly what Julia meant by saying that she knew the man they were hunting had not only been in England, but had obviously contacted her numerous times. "When did you first know he was here in London?""He turned up at the wedding! He thought it was all very amusing; he said that it would be very useful to have another name! He had a virtual card deck of passports; he planned to do some business here and then go back to Florida.""This business, did you have any idea what it would be?"Julia shook her head, smiling. "You tell me! All I know is, Frank was just like everyone else who ever came into contact with him: won over totally, and then got screwed—in his case, shot dead."Anna stood in front of the team, repeating all this new information. Langton was leaning against the far wall of the incident room. He raised his hand. "Do we now have the connection between Donny Petrozzo and Frank Brandon clarified? Not that he was hired as a driver, but how Petrozzo's body was found inside the Mitsubishi?"Anna turned to the board. "Julia recalled Frank saying he was going out to do business; this was on the night of the murder. She did not see him with Fitzpatrick, but she knew they had met on numerous occasions, and it was possible Fitzpatrick had negotiated some big payoff."Langton threaded his way to the front. "Did you get from her where Fitzpatrick was hiding out?"Anna shook her head, saying that she had repeatedly asked this question. Julia had said that he would not hide out anywhere, but more than likely stay at the Ritz or Claridge's."What about Honey Farm?""I obviously asked about that. She said she doubted it, as it was not his style.""But her sister was?""Again, she was not able to tell me if Honour was still in contact with him. She felt that he was more than likely using Honour, as he had used Julia herself. She was very scathing about Honour, as she was part of the reason Julia had attempted to hide Fitzpatrick's money. The sisters are not even on speaking terms.""So what are you saying? That he might have been staying in luxury hotels, or could have been in Oxfordshire?"Anna said that they had, so far, no evidence that Fitzpatrick had been in the farmhouse; tests on the cot bed in the loft had proved inconclusive. The bloodstains did not match the smear on the bullet, and according to Honour might have been left by a student at some time in the past. She said that no one had stayed there for months. Langton paced up and down along the now-sprawling incident-room board.The number of names and statements listed was awesome.He jabbed his finger at the board. "Okay. We now have the time frame for when Donny Petrozzo was killed; next, Stanley Leymore. Still outstanding is Julius D'Anton's murder. Even though we have the fucking bastard on CCTV footage from David Rushton's office, we still do not have any evidence that Fitzpatrick was the killer. We do have the drug Fentanyl that connects Donny Petrozzo's death, David Rushton's death ..."Phil stood up with his notebook open. "We've got confirmation that the handwriting in the glove compartment of the stolen Mitsubishi probably belonged to the same person who wrote the notes on Damien Nolan's examination papers.""Probably?" snapped Langton."Yeah.They won't confirm it one hundred percent.""Shit. Is the surveillance of the farmhouse still in place?"Phil confirmed that it was, but that there had been no suspicious movements or visitors. Langton swore again; the investigation was way over budget and seemingly still gathering moss. He hitched up his trousers and again turned to the board. "Bring that bitch Julia Brandon back in and requestion her. Have we anything from customs or ports?"Gordon said that they had no report of anyone using Fitzpatrick's known aliases, or the name Brandon, and no report of anyone with two young children leaving the UK who fitted his description.He could be on a private plane or boat, Langton muttered; in fact, their wanted man could be anywhere. "The key is, we trace him via the money he regained from Rushton. It has been moved, right? Find out where!""What about the couple at the farmhouse?" Phil asked."Leave them there. We bring them in when I'm ready. We need some more details on this fucking Mitsubishi, like who drove it to Oxford, and how come Julius D'Anton was wheeling around in it and then ended up in the Thames. We are putting a massive load on this man being superhuman: he's killing one guy after another, kidnapping two kids. I don't buy it—he's got to have help."Anna interjected that he had the two bodyguards, and maybe the Chinese au pair! If they also took on board Julia's claim that Fitzpatrick—orCollingwood, as she knew him—had been in the UK since May, the time she moved into the Wimbledon property, he could have done a lot of planning: it was now October.The sheer length of time they had all been working the case hit home and Langton, especially, became angry at the lack of developments. He returned to the information on the board, detailing the murder of Frank Brandon. "We know he went to the drug squat; we know there was someone else with him; we have a possible—and it's only a possible—ID from this junkie, disco rapper Eddie Court, but we still have no real evidence on the man who accompanied him. We are pretty certain that this man sustained a bullet slash or graze wound and, we suppose, that this same man was in the Mitsubishi. Now, what we don't know is whether or not Donny Petrozzo was already dead in the back of it. Everyone with me?"There was a low murmur of agreement. Langton moved on to the photograph of Julius D'Anton. "Right: our Thames floater was seen by the antique dealer in Shipston on Stour driving the Mitsubishi. His van was located, dumped in a local garage for repair. His body was discovered, two days after Frank Brandon's murder. Forensic have come up with nothing, but lab reports say that he was possibly drowned around four days before Brandon's murder." Langton sighed with irritation as he continued, ruffling his hair until it stood up on end."I have been asking for a fucking time frame for two weeks, because from what I can see, that jeep was at the farm before the murder of Frank Brandon. That puts our unknown man, our prime suspect, driving it from London to Oxfordshire, maybe hiding out there, then allowing it to be used by Julius D'Anton."Langton clapped his hands and stared around the room. "Any bright ideas? Did this bastard accompany D'Anton back to London, kill him, and then arrange with Frank Brandon to visit the drug squat?" He shook his head, returning to the board. "I still think we are heaping a hell of a lot on this motherfucker's shoulders. We are presuming he escaped, because Frank Brandon took the bullets: does he then drive to meet Donny, kill him, dump the jeep, and take off to we don't know where, having already knocked off D'Anton? Everyone still with me?"Again, there was a murmur of agreement from the team.