“That is exactly what we both want to do.” She would have liked to add that just because he had found it impossible when they were together to make a serious commitment, it didn’t mean everyone was like that.
“If you’re happy, there’s nothing more to say.”
“I want to have children.”
He laughed and then apologized. He didn’t mean it as an insult, just that it was all quite a shock to him.
“I’m glad you’ve found someone, Anna, so congratulations. I wish I could also offer some for the case, but it’s running on empty again.”
“Seems so, but maybe we’ll get a breakthrough.” She wanted him to get off the phone; she didn’t want to think about the investigation or anything connected to it.
“Good night, then, and I’m sorry if I sounded like I wasn’t overly thrilled. Maybe because you didn’t tell me yourself.”
“He’s everything I want. I’ve never been so happy.”
There was a long pause, and then his voice sounded gruff. “That’s good. I don’t think I ever made you feel that way. Good night, then, sweetheart.”
“Good night.”
She held the receiver in her hand and heard him click off before she slowly replaced it. It was hard for her to believe that after all the years she had been so besotted with Langton, she would feel depressed by his call. She had felt the undercurrent of sarcasm from him and didn’t like it. It didn’t occur to her that Langton had been hurt because he was the last to know, and that he still harbored deep feelings for her that he refused to allow to ever surface.
Chapter Fifteen
Anna was in no hurry to get to work the following morning, as she first went to find a jeweler to resize the engagement ring. She had to leave it at the shop and hated not having it on her finger. As soon as she arrived at the station, she could feel the change in atmosphere in the incident room. It came in waves. First Barbara had been to see Wendy Dunn again, and contrary to what they had been told, the older woman was adamant that often and usually at the end of the month, there would be a certain quantity of blinds that were rejected due to the measurements being incorrectly noted. Arnold Rodgers, a stickler for perfection in his company, had ordered the faulty blinds to be either unthreaded and stacked for possible use, or destroyed.
“She said it was common knowledge that they would be taken out, sometimes for the workers’ personal use, and Mr. Rodgers had even on occasion allowed that to occur.”
“Get to the point, Barbara.” Anna was impatient.
“Because John Smiley was their main fitter, he would fix them up for the work teams, but she said he was always the first there to check over the unwanted blinds, and because he had the delivery van, they were out of the factory and in the back of it before Mr. Rodgers noticed.”
“Did she say he moonlighted — did extra work outside the company?”
“Yes. He was even paid by her to put some up at her place.”
As Anna was about to take on board how difficult it would be to trace the private customers Smiley had worked for, Barolli let out a yell for her attention.
“During the trial of Cameron Welsh, they used the security company attached to Brixton Prison, but when he was transferred to Barfield Prison after he was sentenced, they used a private company.”
Anna was becoming as impatient with Barolli as she had felt with Barbara. “Come on,” she growled. “Have we got a new suspect or not, for God’s sake?”
Barolli gave an expansive bravado gesture.
“No, but I’ve got four names. Two are dog handlers, but the company admitted that on long-haul drives from London to Barfield, they often used standby guards — that means ones not on a permanent payroll.”
“For heaven’s sake, what’s the connection?”
“One of them is an ex-Para, works doors at nightclubs, mostly, but he stood in for their regular guy, and he brought in a buddy because they needed two wagons. Apparently, there’s a Mafia bloke in the secure unit at Barfield who was sentenced at the same time as Welsh, and they were concerned about a possible attempt to escape, so that’s why they had the dogs.”
Anna felt like screaming. Barolli held up his hand for her to stay quiet.
“You have no idea how long this has taken to piece together, but John Smiley was in the Paras, right? Now, because these two guys were not regulars, they were paid in cash on delivery; they had to sign a chitty.”
Anna pinched the bridge of her nose. Barolli had the full attention of the entire room.
“Don’t tell me — one was signed by John Smiley?” Anna asked.
“That would be asking too much — and it was how many bloody years ago? — so no. What I do have is the name and contact for the ex-Para, and it turns out he was in the same unit at Aldershot with John Smiley.”
“So have you questioned him?”
“Not yet. He’s working at some boot camp in Devon, but he’s contactable this afternoon.”
Anna sat back and closed her eyes. It was not as firmed up as the information from Wendy Dunn, and it was possibly not connected, so they might get nothing from either development. However, the third item that generated a lot of excitement came from the forensic lab.
Pete Jenkins had found numerous sets of fingerprints on the wooden pull from the slatted blinds themselves, these, he said, were clearly childrens. However, the sets from beneath the pelmet where it had been screwed into the wall were faint but, due to the size, probably male. With a few hours’ further chemical treatment, he hoped to raise an identifiable print.
Mike Lewis was sweating. This was the biggest breakthrough yet, and it would mean bringing John Smiley back in for his prints. If they matched, they had him trapped by his own lies.
Langton arrived with perfect timing to be told the update, and was well pleased. He stood in front of the team beaming and ordered his usual toasted chicken sandwich with no tomatoes.
He sat with them as they sifted through everything they had so far, and he suggested they forgo another session with Cameron Welsh; if Welsh had known about the security-guard connection, then Langton hoped he would be segregated to the mental wing for not telling them. “If it pans out, we don’t need to see him again.”
Anna said nothing, wondering if Langton had deliberately made that decision to deprive her of another chance of going to Leeds to see Ken. She doubted that he would be so churlish, especially when he asked Barolli to check out the Mafia prisoner. If the prisoner had also been in the convoy from London, they could get something from him.
“Apparently, Welsh is climbing the walls.” Langton grunted. “So if we need to question him, we’ll do so.”
Although the team was working toward proving that John Smiley had known Margaret Potts and that his lying could cover a much more heinous event, they did not have any further evidence for the murders of their three Polish victims.
Anna noticed that Langton now wore reading glasses when he went over the files; she had never seen him wearing them. They made him look so much older.
When he’d read enough to come to a decision, the DCS stood up and told them to hold off on the arrest of John Smiley, pending the fingerprint treatment by Pete Jenkins. However, as soon as Langton gave the go-ahead, they would nab Smiley on suspicion of murder — and this time, armed with a search warrant, they were to strip his house, the company lockers, and bring in his delivery van for forensic to test. They were to liaise with the Manchester Constabulary, as they would need approval and even permission to move in on their turf.
“This time we want his prints,” Langton said.
“Why the delay?”
Langton looked at Mike and bit into his sandwich, taking time to chew and swallow before he chucked the napkin that had been wrapped around it into a bin. “Maybe we’ve got two suspects. This ex-Para guy — what’s his name?”