“Go on,” Langton said quietly.
“Well now, let me think. I would say he could even live a double life. He could have a wife, children, a nice home. It’s when he’s away from them that he becomes the animal, the hunter. You have to understand that it will be an obsessive-compulsive need, probably because he is dominated by a woman — his wife or mother — but someone he respects, maybe even loves. Her control of him is what sets the seeds for him to want to strangle and rape, to dominate his victims.”
“How old do you think he is?”
“I’d say mid-forties. This has taken a long time to fester inside him, but as soon as he is away from the comfort zone, away from the suffocation of his respectable life, he rises up; his cock is hard just thinking about what he intends doing. Your killer will fantasize about his plans, and for that he needs space, a job that will take him away from that closeted environment.”
“What work do you think he does?”
Welsh sighed. “I’ve said he’s a driver. A trucker, maybe, with long-distance hauls — anything that takes him out of his perfect loving home. He commits his crimes far away from anyone who knows him, and I would say he is very well liked, respected, a good steady man, and his alter ego won’t ever manifest itself with anyone close to him; on the contrary, he will be above suspicion.” Welsh leaned back and smiled. “You know, you may never catch him.”
Anna had not said a word throughout the meeting, and in fact, Welsh had hardly looked at her. When at last she and Langton stood up to leave, he turned toward her.
“Maybe next time we can have a more private talk, just you and me, because I haven’t finished. There’s more to come from me, and I would like you to get the kudos for nailing this killer. It would benefit your career.”
Langton took her arm, smiling at Welsh and thanking him profusely. The officers appeared in the aisle as if they’d been waiting for the signal. As they headed toward Ken Hudson, they could hear Welsh’s cell gate close with a clang.
In the secure unit’s recreational area, Anna and Langton sat and waited for their escorts to take them back through to the main prison. Langton accepted a coffee, but all Anna wanted was to get out. She had found it sickening listening to Welsh’s gloating.
Langton spoke quietly to her. “I think while we’re here, instead of returning to London, we should make an unscheduled call on Smiley. It will save another long journey, and we’re not that far from Manchester here.”
Overhearing, Ken Hudson looked up. “My parents have a bed-and-breakfast. I could arrange for you to stay there, if you like. It’s between here and Manchester.”
Anna was loath to agree, but Langton was already saying, “We’d really appreciate the offer. Anna, we could pick up toothbrushes and toothpaste on the way.”
“There’s probably everything you’d need at the house,” Hudson said, and explained that it was nothing special, but at least it was clean, and his mother cooked up a great breakfast.
“That’s very kind of you, Ken, but I don’t want to put your mother to any trouble,” Anna protested.
“It won’t be. She’s got no one staying at the moment; in fact, times have been slack lately. She used to foster a lot of kids, but she’s getting on a bit now, and my father’s retired.”
So that was that. Anna could see she’d have to go along with the idea.
Ken said that he would be off duty in half an hour and he could drive them there. Langton pointed out that Anna had her car, but they could do with directions. “Do you live at home?” he asked.
“No. I’ve got a resident officer’s flat here, but I see my folks as often as I can. I can go over there with you, if you like.”
“Really appreciate that, Ken, but it won’t be necessary. Mind you, I’d love it if you could give us a tip on where to get a good curry.”
Anna was becoming extremely tense. A curry and a night in some bed-and-breakfast with Langton was not something she wanted by any stretch of the imagination. She was even more infuriated when Langton insisted on going to have yet another conversation with the governor. Excusing herself, she said she would wait for him in the car park, claiming she needed some fresh air.
Anna was turning on the Mini’s engine to recharge her mobile phone when Ken Hudson joined her, bending down to tap on her window. He was wearing motorbike leathers and carrying a crash helmet.
“I’ve contacted my mum, and she’s looking forward to meeting you.”
Anna got out as Ken gave her a detailed route map of how to get to his parents’ and the names of a couple of Indian restaurants not far from the house.
“I was thinking I might ride over there. Maybe we could have a bite to eat together.”
“I don’t think so, but thank you,” she said as politely as she could manage.
“How about another time? I go to London quite often, as I’ve got a sister living in Richmond.”
Anna gave him a dismissive smile and looked around for Langton.
“Whereabouts do you live?” Ken asked.
“I have a flat near Tower Bridge.”
“Oh, nice. Is it a loft conversion?”
She sighed, not wanting to get into any further conversation with him and by now anxious to leave, as it was getting dark. She took in the biker’s gear.
“How could you have given us a lift?” she asked. “You look as if you’re on a motorbike.”
“Yeah, but my mate’s got a car I could use. If you want to leave your car parked here, I could—”
“No, I really think we should go, but thanks all the same.” She was relieved to see Langton heading toward them, smoking.
“Sorry to keep you waiting. You got directions, Anna?”
“Yes.”
Ken smiled and said he had also given her contact numbers for a couple of good Indian restaurants.
“You going to join us, then?” Langton asked.
By now Anna’s head was aching.
“Thanks, I’d like that,” Ken said. “I can follow behind until I see you are on the right route; it’s about an hour’s drive.”
Anna couldn’t believe it. Next minute, Langton had walked over to Ken Hudson’s motorbike. The two of them stood with their backs to her, obviously discussing the machine, and she wanted to scream. Ken eventually put on his helmet and sat astride the big motorbike, revving the engine. At last Langton returned to the car.
“That is some bike he’s got there — a Harley-Davidson, immaculate condition, customized paint job on the tank.”
“Can we go now?” Anna said impatiently.
“Ready when you are. I think he’s taken quite a shine to you.” Langton grinned.
“Oh, please.”
Anna passed him the directions as they drove out. Behind them, sounding like thunder, was Ken on his bike. He stayed well back until he roared past with a wave.
“Always wanted one of those,” Langton said, looking after the bike and black-helmeted rider. “Nice young bloke, isn’t he?”
Mrs. Brenda Hudson was a plump, friendly woman who was waiting at the open front door of her freshly painted semi-detached, with its paved front garden. Ken’s bike was already parked, alongside a Metro.
Anna was shown into a small box room, which smelled of polish and clean linen. The single bed had a floral duvet and matching pillowcase. Mrs. Hudson hovered, asking if there was anything she could get to make her guest more comfortable, offering tea and placing down a bottle of water.