She couldn’t lift the depression; she knew she was really not looking after herself. She didn’t exercise, she didn’t cook decent meals, and she was eating mostly fry-ups in the station canteen. She had made no new friends, and her whole existence was focused on work. She was also drinking at least half a bottle of wine a night, despite trying to keep it to one and a half glasses. She sometimes drank more and sank into bed cushioned by the alcohol to help her sleep.
Now, unable to concentrate on the TV, she drained the glass and returned to the kitchen to get a refill and then headed into her bedroom. She took a shower and, wrapped in a bath towel, stared at herself in the long wardrobe mirror. Sipping the wine, she let the towel drop to really look at herself. She’d put on weight, and her hair needed a trim. In fact, her face looked pasty, and doing a slow turn, she could see that her waist was much wider than usual, as were her thighs. Flabby, she felt flabby: unfit and ugly. She took a few more sips of wine as she got into her nightdress. It had been bought for warmth and comfort, and that was exactly what it looked like.
She flopped down on the bed. Tomorrow she would join a gym, and she would also go on a diet, start to eat more healthy food, and cut out the wine. Sleepily, she drained the glass, but just as she was about to go and clean her teeth, her phone rang.
“Hello, Anna.”
She knew who it was immediately and wanted to replace the receiver at once.
“You still awake?”
She remained silent, furious that Cameron Welsh had obtained her private phone number.
“Anna?”
“Mr. Welsh, you have no right to call me at my home. I have nothing to say to you.”
“Take the number out of the phone book, then.”
“Good night, Mr. Welsh.”
“Don’t you want to hear why I’ve called you?”
“No, I don’t. Please do not call me again.”
“Isn’t that rather a childish attitude to take, Anna?”
She was about to slam down the phone when he added, “I have more information.”
“To date you have simply wasted our time, Mr. Welsh. You have given us nothing that we haven’t already—”
“I have now,” he interrupted her angrily.
She did not respond.
“I want you to come and see me again. It’s connected to a friend of Margaret Potts. She knows—”
“That won’t be possible.” She replaced the receiver and pulled out the cord in case he tried to call her again.
Even though Anna took a sleeping pill, sleep didn’t come easily. She tossed and turned. Cameron Welsh’s voice was playing over and over in her mind. She woke drenched in sweat from a nightmare, feeling his hands squeezing her throat. She sat up, taking deep breaths, trying to calm herself, but by calling her at home, he had invaded her privacy. It felt as if he were stalking her the way he had stalked his victims, and she was angry at herself for allowing him to have such power over her.
Not wanting to go back to sleep, she brought her briefcase into the bedroom and began to sift through all her notes pertaining to the previous interviews with Welsh. Although she refuted that he had given any conclusive information that moved the case forward, he had nevertheless underlined the importance of Margaret Potts’s relatives, which had eventually been, in some ways, productive. They had traced the man Potts had been abused by, but it had not resulted in tracing their killer, although it more or less confirmed how the dead woman worked the service stations. However, that wasn’t enough for Anna to believe Welsh truly had anything valuable to offer.
Anna arrived at the station early and went straight into Mike Lewis’s office. She told him about the phone call and explained how much it had bothered her. Mike suggested she change her number straightaway to unlisted. He then said he would contact the governor at Barfield to make sure Welsh was not allowed any further late-night calls unless monitored, and if he had a mobile phone, it was to be removed.
“It beggars belief if he does own one, but you never know what they can get permission to use nowadays.”
“That secure unit is like a holiday camp,” she snapped.
“Did you check the number?”
Anna shook her head and repeated what Welsh had said to her about having further information.
“Well, if there is another visit, you won’t be going. Either I or Barolli will go,” Mike reassured her.
“It’ll be a waste of time,” Anna grumbled. “It’s just supposition on his part, and I think he has a thing about me. It’s me he wants there to gloat over, and he’s started giving me nightmares. It’s that slimy voice of his.” She shuddered.
“What do you think he meant by this friend of the victim Margaret Potts?”
“Mike, we’ve interviewed her ex-husband, her brother-in-law, and Emerald Turk. She never had a regular place to live; she dossed down on their floors or in their spare rooms or used a hostel.”
Mike nodded, but then his phone rang, so Anna had to return to the incident room. She was writing up on the board the late-night phone call when Barolli joined her.
“Boyfriend called you at home, did he?”
“Very funny. I’ll be losing my sense of humor over Welsh. He sickens me.”
“What’s this about a friend of Margaret Potts?”
“He was trying it on, but if you want to act on it, go ahead. I am having nothing more to do with him. Besides, I want to work on finding out more about Estelle Dubcek.”
Mike joined them and said he had spoken to the governor of Barfield, and they were doing a strip search of Welsh’s cell. The prisoners were not allowed to make calls after nine-thirty, and Jeremy Hardwick was very certain Welsh would not have access to a mobile, as they were against prison regulations.
Barolli snorted, knowing full well that inside prison, a mobile phone went for a considerable amount of money, and far from being against regulations, they were passed around easily.
Relieved that she would no longer be forced into any meetings with Welsh, Anna threw herself into the next task. As they’d had such good feedback from the last television crime show, they were preparing to run again the requests for anyone able to identify the second victim. Barbara had compiled the list of the girl’s clothes and acquired exact copies ready for showing on the TV appeal.
Chapter Six
Anna looked again at the information on Estelle Dubcek, the date she finished working for Mrs. Henderson, and the meeting with Mikhail Petrovich. Aware that Katia had told her she couldn’t stay there, Anna wondered where Estelle had slept. Her body was discovered wearing the jacket bought from the charity shop. She had left clothes at Katia’s and more belongings at Mrs. Henderson’s. Knowing when she purchased the coat, they were able to pin down the date she was in London. Anna calculated that three days were unaccounted for before the body was found. Had she gone to Manchester and been returning to London when she was killed? Yet her uncle had said she never turned up. It left Anna wondering if she should question Petrovich again. He could have lied, but she doubted he was connected to the murder. Then there was Katia; was she lying?
Anna sighed and started to think about Welsh’s phone call. Should she question Emerald Turk again? In many ways, she felt they had already covered her connection to Margaret Potts. She didn’t think that either Margaret’s husband or Eric Potts could give any further clues. It was obvious they needed a breakthrough, and it didn’t seem to be coming, no matter what direction the team investigated.