Joan pursed her lips and returned to her computer screen. “Somebody’s not a happy bunny,” she muttered to herself.
Anna had tried to signal to Langton that she was eager for them to get on with the Welsh interview by looking pointedly at her watch numerous times. However, he had ignored her, still deep in conversation with the governor. At long last, he said that perhaps it was time they went over to the secure unit.
Waiting to meet them was the nice young fair-haired officer Ken Hudson, whom Anna had met when she and Barolli had first visited.
Ken Hudson shook Langton’s hand and smiled at Anna, then led them into the main recreational area.
“This is very pleasant,” Langton observed, looking around.
Hudson introduced him to the three other officers, who shook hands, then asked if they wanted Welsh brought out, or did they prefer to talk to him in his cell.
“Whatever is convenient for you guys,” Langton said.
“He’s been playing up,” Hudson commented.
Langton asked if by that he meant Welsh was violent, and Hudson shook his head.
“No. Just been bloody-minded and difficult, hogging the kitchen too much, making sarcastic remarks to the other inmates under his breath — you know, goading them to have a go at him. He’s a smart bastard and he knows it, but he’s been dressing himself up in readiness for the meeting with you.” He nodded toward Anna.
Langton suggested they first talk to Welsh in his cell, but with the gate open.
“Okay. I’ll just go and tell him you’re here — not that he won’t know. He expected you earlier.”
“Did he?” Langton said with a smile.
As Hudson headed off down Welsh’s aisle, Langton glanced at Anna and asked softly if she was okay. She lifted her eyes to the ceiling. “Fine. Just wondered if we were ever going to get started.”
Hudson returned to get them. He’d already placed two chairs outside Welsh’s cell. Welsh appeared at his open door, looking tense and angry.
“Mr. Welsh, go and sit down in your cell. Do it or we walk out,” Langton said quietly.
Welsh gave a smirk. “Yes, sir, Detective Chief Superintendent Langton.”
Welsh disappeared and was sitting with his legs crossed when they took their seats in front of him. He was in a pristine white shirt and jeans, with leather thongs. His cologne was strong, his hair shining and glossy, but his eyes were a giveaway to his pent-up anger.
“We meet again,” he said, curtly nodding to Langton.
“So we do, Mr. Welsh.”
“Must be important to get the big brass here in person. Afraid she can’t handle it?”
“On the contrary, Mr. Welsh. I wanted to be here because you intrigue me.”
“Do I now? Well, you are fortunate I agreed, because I wasn’t going to give another minute of my time after that bitch got them to sweep my cell.”
“If you can’t be polite to Detective Travis, this meeting is over.”
“I am so sorry, Detective Travis, if I sounded rude, but you know I paid a lot of money—”
Langton interrupted him. “We’re not here to get into a discussion about your mobile phone. You had it against the regulations, and you know it. So if you are ready to talk, then let’s get started. I am not prepared to listen to any bullshit from you, is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.” Welsh gave a cowering movement with his head, mocking, as if he were afraid.
“I also want it made clear to you that if you attempt to contact Detective Travis on a personal level again, I will make sure you get your privileges removed. That’s more than a sweep of your cell, that’s the books, the laptop...”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. So now we can get started.”
There was a pause. Welsh remained with his head bent low and then tossed back his hair. “Have you acted on my information to date?” he demanded.
“You have given us nothing that we were not already checking out. I am here simply because you said that you can, as a killer, get into the mind of the man we are hunting.”
Welsh stared at Langton. “You are not even close to tracking him down, are you?” he said.
“We have some leads.”
“Like what?”
“Listen to me, Mr. Welsh. I don’t have the time to play any more games or arrange any further visits. You now have the opportunity to either assist our case or not.”
“Tell me why you came after me. It was down to you, wasn’t it?”
Langton shifted his weight in the chair. He took out the piece of string and began to tie a knot.
“Is that to stop you wanting to smoke?”
“Yes.”
“You really want to smoke a cigarette now, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“We are allowed to smoke outside in the exercise yard. I don’t. It’s a filthy habit.”
Langton glanced at his watch and replaced the string in his pocket. “I asked you a question, Mr. Welsh, and you are trying my patience. You killed two young girls. I could try and understand why, with all your privileges, you wanted to destroy not just their lives but your own. You made the choice. I maybe won’t ever understand someone with your intellect wanting to be empowered by the act of rape and murder, so why don’t you—”
“Why were you so sure I was the killer?” Welsh interrupted.
“We had a witness, and you were our prime suspect. It was only a matter of time before we discovered the evidence. It wasn’t as if you had covered your tracks. I am beginning to think that this is all a waste of time.”
Langton made as if to stand, and Welsh leaned forward.
“If you had not had the witness, you never would have caught me. That was, I admit, my mistake — but you know, there is always a witness. I realize that now.”
“Are you saying we have a witness?”
“Of course you do — Margaret Potts. I am surprised you haven’t reached that conclusion. She knew the killer, and as I told little Anna here, you need to go back to her.”
“That could be difficult, since she’s dead.”
“She holds the clues. She knew the killer; she wasn’t the same as those two pretty young girls, she was old, used up — a dirty slag who had worked the service stations for years, correct?”
“We have no connection between Margaret and the two young victims.”
“There isn’t one. She didn’t know them. I am saying she knew the killer — and that if you go further back, you’ll find more cases, more victims.”
“Why?”
“This man has been around for a long time; he’s gotten away with it for a long time, he isn’t suddenly having the urge to kill. Margaret Potts was murdered two years ago. I believe she’s the link because he so nearly got caught. He had to get rid of her. This would mean he believed he’d got away with it, and spurred on with his success, his fury builds and he can’t control it. Then he kills again, twice. He has honed his methods in the way he finds the girls. Do you understand what I am saying? He finds them, wants them young, wants them innocent, and they are trusting enough to go with him. They were not drugged, they were not beaten, they had no restraint marks on their wrists or ankles.”
“They were raped.”
“Yes, yes, I know that, but do they have marks on their bodies as if they were bound and tied? No! Were they drunk? Were they drugged? No! They went with this man of their own accord. They were willing to be with him, so he is a man who is trustworthy, just like myself. My victims wanted to be with me, they found me attractive, so that makes your killer also a very attractive male. Are you following what I am saying?”
Langton gave a dismissive shrug. It clearly annoyed Welsh, who clenched his fists.
“I know this man, understand me? I know how he thinks, how he works, how he can spot a victim and maybe even stalk them, but he has something that is an immediate connection. Maybe it’s just because he’s as good-looking as me. Who would consider me a dangerous predator? And that is what you are looking for, a predator.” Welsh tossed back his silky hair, smiling.