Anna went through the list of all the locations that had been checked without any success. They had even had teams of officers from the Home Counties police forces searching woodland, farm buildings and outhouses outside London but no visible trace of Oates had been found.
Mike shook his head with frustration. He was under huge pressure, having to fend off not only the press but also the Area Commander. ‘She’s asked me to give her a detailed review of the operation, so obviously it’s a total failure,’ he told Anna.
‘It wasn’t a failure. For God’s sake, we uncovered five victims and under horrendous circumstances. Don’t let them wear you down, Mike, you have to speak up for yourself.’
He sighed and then put his head in his hands.
‘Where the bloody hell is he?’
‘He’ll surface, he has to, and there is no way he can get far. Pump out more press on him, they’ve been screwing it up for us at the quarry. Turn it around on them.’
Mike looked up, frowning.
‘That bloody press helicopter was screwing it up, make them know it,’ Anna insisted. ‘Put a portion of the blame on them, we want as much coverage as is possible. Oates’s ego will blow up in his face.’
Mike sat back.
‘Yeah. I guess I’m just tired out.’
‘Then go home and get some sleep. I’ll stay on here until late and you’ll feel a whole lot better in the morning.’
‘How come you look so good?’ he asked, smiling.
‘I had a full night’s sleep.’
The calls were like persistent gnats all night, buzzing and often anonymous, but they kept on coming. It was intensely frustrating to have so many leads and all of them false. Every call had to be recorded and logged and Anna, along with Joan, Barbara and the extra clerical workers, were kept busy until at ten o’clock Anna said the night staff could take over. Joan had a large bunch of flowers she was going to deliver to Barolli with a card signed by all the team close to the enquiry.
‘You’d better get them over there, Joan, they’re wilting.’
Anna was packing up ready to leave when Langton arrived.
‘I was just going home.’
‘Come and have a drink with me.’
She didn’t really feel like going to a pub, but he gestured to Mike’s office and tapped his coat pocket.
Langton opened the drawers until he found a glass and poured a heavy measure of Scotch into it.
‘Here you go. I’ll use the bottle.’
‘I can get a glass from the canteen.’
‘It’s closed.’
She looked at the Scotch and sipped; it hit the back of her throat like fire.
‘My God. I need some water in this.’
She opened a bottle of water left on Mike’s desk.
‘I’ve been to the mortuary – the Rebekka Jordan report will be in tomorrow morning. You got a cigarette?’
‘Yes I do actually; hang on, I’ll get them.’
Anna returned to the incident room and picked up her briefcase. The phones were still ringing nonstop.
Langton was drinking from the bottle of Scotch as she took out the packet of Silk Cut and tossed it onto the desk. He lit up and then opened the office window. She also took one, and he leaned forwards to light it.
‘I looked in on the other victims. They’re mostly skeletons and a couple may have had animals at them. All lined up and laid out, just makes your heart sink to think that that piece of shit is still out there.’
She took another sip of her watered-down Scotch. They were using a dirty half-filled coffee beaker as an ashtray.
‘What did the pathologist say about Rebekka?’
‘Jawbone broken and fractures to the skull, all occurred before death and consistent with being punched repeatedly, so looks like Oates was telling the truth when he said he hit her. Only problem is, because her body was so badly decomposed he can’t give a definitive cause of death or say if he sexually assaulted her.’
‘So he will probably offer a plea of manslaughter, saying he didn’t mean to kill her, just shut her up?’
‘He won’t get away with that, not with the similar evidence on the girls he’s admitted raping and murdering so far.’
‘Well that’s something it’s better they don’t know.’
‘The parents?’
‘Of course.’
‘Like the Flynns they want to see their daughter,’ Langton groaned. ‘I’ve asked if they can do something with the remains. If I was them I wouldn’t, it’s no longer their daughter, she’s long gone apart from that hair; lovely hair. It’s been cleaned.’
He took a long gulp of Scotch out of the bottle, and then put it down on the desk.
‘Listen, Mike is going to be torn to shreds. I’ve spoken with the Commander, tried to make it less of a fuck-up, but it’s hard, and no matter what excuses I make about the fucking arc lights blowing and toppling, somebody still has to be the fall guy. Then we’ve got fucking Barolli leaving the keys in the ignition of the unmarked car, and the biggest screw-up is that Oates had his handcuffs removed and took an armed officer’s gun.’
‘But you gave the order for that.’
His head snapped up.
‘What?’
‘You gave the clearance for the cuffs to be removed the second time. Oates was back in the wagon, Mike told you he wanted to call it a day but you overruled him. You told him to get Oates out again.’
Langton stubbed out his cigarette. She could see his tight-lipped anger.
‘Didn’t you tell the Commander there was no way he could have climbed into the pit and up the other side with the cuffs on? We succeeded in recovering Rebekka Jordan’s remains because of him being up on the ledge. If we hadn’t used Oates we might never have found her.’
Langton flipped the packet of cigarettes up and down, saying nothing. It was clear he had tried to offload the blame onto Mike and, incensed by what he’d done, she decided to stand up to him.
‘You were there, the events that occurred to enable Oates to escape were not down to Mike’s incompetence, but…’
‘As you so tartly said, Travis, I was there, I am aware of exactly what happened.’
‘Paul Barolli tried to stop Oates by using the car door, and then got out to try and rugby-tackle an armed man and ended up getting shot for his troubles. It may have slipped your mind but the cadaver dogs had found something and YOU told Paul, NOT Mike, to go over to the woods and that was why he was in the car!’
‘I know that, I bloody know that.’
‘Then you have to know that the blame cannot be pinned on anyone in particular.’
‘The top brass don’t see it as an act of God, so some-one’s got to take the blame.’
‘Why? You were there, I was there…’
‘I have no intention of taking the flak for this, Travis, you hear me? I haven’t come this far to get rubbed out just when I am about to be recommended for…’
‘Another promotion board, is it! You’ve missed out on Commander how many times now?’
‘Yes it fucking is, and this case was in Mike Lewis’s hands.’
‘Not entirely. We did have Hedges, but you pissed him off so much he wasn’t interested. Since Rebekka Jordan’s name came into it you’ve been on Mike’s back so-’
He interrupted. ‘You want to step forwards? You’re the DCI on the Rebekka Jordan enquiry, you want to put yourself forwards? Do you? NO, bet your sweet arse you don’t want to. The reason I’m here tonight is so we can discuss-’