“Who’ve you got tracing dog handlers connected to Cameron Welsh?” Anna asked.
“Barolli. You think it’s worth another visit to Barfield?”
“Welsh has gone a bit gaga, acting up badly; they’ve had to sedate him.”
“Checking up on him, were you?” Mike asked.
“Yes. Listen, this doesn’t take two of us. I’ll go and get some coffee.”
Mike nodded and then asked her to go back to the two previous employees from Swell Blinds to see if there was any moonlighting going on. He also wanted to get the expenses paid out to Smiley. But somehow he was doubtful they would find that Smiley had withdrawn money for blackmail payouts.
“Thanks for this,” Barolli said sarcastically to Anna as she returned to her desk with her coffee. He held up his phone. “I’ve been hanging on for up to fifteen minutes. I keep getting cut off. I’ve been put through to so many different departments...” He returned to his caller. Despite all the effort, he had not been able to make any connection between security guards and Cameron Welsh. To go back so many years, when a number of the companies had folded, and having to battle with the red tape attached to the security protocol was frustrating and time-consuming. Obtaining the details of Cameron Welsh’s escorts to and from the court at his trial was almost impossible.
“Cameron Welsh. Five years ago, he was on trial for murder and held at Brixton Prison... No, dog handlers — we need the names of the security guards that... No, only Cameron Welsh.” He sighed.
Barbara received an abrupt call from Arnold Rodgers with regard to her request for John Smiley’s expenses. She was told that there was no specific account; the employees brought in receipts for meals and any extra expenditures. John Smiley had never abused this system.
There was also little useful feedback from the two ex-workers of Swell Blinds. Apparently, Mr. Rodgers was strict about any kind of cash deals, as most of the blinds were made to order, so there was not much left in the warehouse to be sold off at a cut price.
Anna sighed. Flicking through her notebook, she found her notes on the last interview with Smiley. Contrary to what the two men claimed, he had said there were often windows wrongly measured for blinds, which, when they were delivered, proved unusable. Smiley had suggested to Anna and Langton that it could have been any number of men employed by Swell Blinds who went to Emerald Turk’s flat.
Anna sat tapping her teeth with her pen. If they found no cash taken out from Smiley’s bank account around the time he might have paid off Margaret Potts, then he must have gotten it somewhere else.
She tossed the pen back on her desk. She was beginning to feel as frustrated as Barolli, who was having a lengthy conversation with a security company. She leaned back and closed her eyes. Was it possible they were wrong and had been for weeks and that John Smiley was innocent? She was sick to death of hearing about Swell Blinds. She then smiled. When she married Ken, there would not be a blind in a single solitary window.
“Paul,” she called over to Barolli.
He was replacing the phone.
“The blinds we took from Emerald Turk’s flat — are they over at forensics?”
“Yeah, they’re checking out the cords, and like everything else, it’s a bloody—” His phone rang, and he snatched it up. Anna yawned and then put in a call to Pete Jenkins.
“You calling to arrange dinner?” he joked.
“Nope, this is a really long shot. You know the pelmet that’s fixed to the top of the slatted blinds?”
“Yeah, we’ve got that in here as well.”
“I know they were up for a few years, but can you do me a favor and dust for prints? They’re fiddly to hang, aren’t they?”
“I wouldn’t know, but I wasn’t asked to dust for prints, just check out the cord.”
“Yes, I know, but can you do me a favor?”
“Okay, done and dusted, ha ha. Now what about that meal?”
Anna couldn’t help smiling as she told him that she was engaged and maybe one night she’d bring her fiancé for dinner.
“That’s a kick in the teeth. Never mind, I did but try.”
Barolli was on yet another lengthy call, so Anna went over to Barbara.
“You know that little woman, ex-receptionist for Swell Blinds...”
“Wendy Dunn?”
“Yes. Can you put in a call and ask her what happened to those blinds that came back from a customer because they didn’t fit?”
“What? That’s it?”
“Yep. Ask how many there were, and see if any of the workers used them to do a bit of moonlighting.”
“She’s on my way home, so as usual, I can call in and have a chat with her.”
It was yet another day with no result. In the past, Anna would have stayed on, determined to uncover something, but tonight she couldn’t wait to get home. She stopped off at a newsagent and bought Brides, Tatler, and Vogue to look for ideas for her wedding dress. She wanted a full white gown and all the trimmings, and she had saved enough to also have an expensive but not too large reception. With no father to give her away, she wondered if it would be acceptable to ask Roy Hudson.
She sat in bed munching Ryvita and cheese slices, planning a strict diet. She kept on cutting out articles and putting them to one side. Ken called quite late, as he had only just gotten off duty. He said he had told his parents, and they were over the moon. When she asked if it would be all right for his father to give her away, he said it would make his day.
“I’m not putting too much pressure on you, am I?” she said anxiously. “It’s just I suddenly thought I didn’t have anyone that I’d really want.”
“You know what we should start doing is looking for a place.”
“We could always live here at my flat.”
“No, I want us to have our own place. Next weekend off, we’ll start checking with estate agents and think about which area we’ll want to move to. It might depend on where I get work.”
Anna said she could put her flat on the market and join her finances with his savings. They needed to be realistic in working out how long it might take for her to sell and how much longer he had to work at the prison before he could find a job in London and apply to start his training. They arrived at a possible wedding date in a year’s time.
“Do you want an exotic honeymoon?” Ken asked.
“Yes.”
“You know what I’ve always wanted to do? Hire a gulet in Turkey and sail round the coast. We’d have a crew and chef on board and nobody else. You fancy that?”
Anna did. She wanted whatever made him happy.
“Right — I’ll bring brochures with me when I’m next down, and it might be this weekend. Okay?”
“Yes.” She snuggled down with her glossy magazine, and when the phone rang again, she thought it was Ken calling back.
“It’s me,” Langton said.
“Hello,” Anna replied cautiously.
“Did I wake you?”
“No. I’m in bed, though.”
“I’ve just been told.”
She wasn’t sure what to say, and sitting up, she felt really nervous.
“So when did all this go down?”
Was he talking about her engagement? She couldn’t be sure, so she said nothing.
“You going to tell me who it is? Anna?”
“You met him. It’s Ken Hudson.”
“What? Are you serious? The big blond fella?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t let the grass grow under your feet, did you?”
“I guess I didn’t.”
“Don’t go jumping into anything, will you? You should take your time. It’s been how long?”
“That’s immaterial. I love him.”
“Take it slowly, is my advice. Live with him first, and don’t go making a big commitment.”