Langton placed his hand on Grace’s shoulder. ‘Doctor Salaam is a voodoo practitioner: he teaches it to specially chosen students and does not — and he took great care to emphasize this — does not go into the “darkness”. That’s his word, by the way.’
Grace continued. ‘The students obviously pay a lot of money. I asked if Esme could give me names, but she refused. I then changed the subject and asked her if she had something for a migraine. She went into the anteroom, so I nipped back to the diary — but she caught me and snatched it back.’
Langton took over again. ‘This was the moment I came out of Elmore’s office. His wife said something to him, in I dunno what language, and the friendly priest-cum-doctor-cum-psychiatrist got very nasty. He accused us of being there on false pretences. I had to show my ID again, calm him down, but he was very unpleasant. I got a bit heavy about how he was running his business, but said I didn’t want to cause trouble: I was there because I needed his help.’
At this point, Harry Blunt got up and walked across the incident room. Langton glared at him. ‘Where you going?’
‘I need to take a leak. To be honest, Gov, I dunno where all this is leading, but you’ve taken a hell of a long time to get to the point.’
‘Sit the fuck down!’ Langton snapped. He stared around the room. ‘Anyone else think this is a load of shite? I am going into the details of what went on for a fucking reason. You want to hear it or not? Right now, we’re still flailing around like arseholes. You want to carry on taking a piss, Harry, go do it — and don’t come back.’
‘For Chrissakes, Gov, it’s eleven o’clock. I’m up to my ears in coffee.’
Langton ignored him, then crossed to the board and slapped the name Camorra with the flat of his hand. ‘This bastard has been paying Elmore for years. He’s obsessed, to such an extent that the doctor started to get uneasy. The only thing the fucker was interested in was the “darkness”, for want of a better word.’
Anna sat straight-backed; she couldn’t believe it. Langton had not even mentioned this to her. Brandon and Lewis shot covert glances at each other; they, too, had been left in the ‘darkness’!
The incident room fell silent.
‘Camorra gave them a false address and numerous mobile phone numbers; he changes them frequently, almost weekly. He had sessions with Elmore until his wife said he should not continue: the bastard scared the shit out them, culminating when he brought in a shrunken head and two claws. A child’s hands! You want to take a piss now, Harry?’
Harry sat down, sheepishly.
‘We need Doctor Salaam, because the one lead we might have is the Krasiniqe kid in Parkhurst who believes he’s got a hex on him and is dying. Okay, Harry, if I continue?’
‘I’m sorry, Gov.’
Langton outlined the arrangements for Dr Salaam to come in and discuss what he could or could not do to help Eamon Krasiniqe. Time was running out; the boy was dying, so it had been arranged for Elmore to come in and talk to them that same afternoon. They would then make the journey to Parkhurst.
It was after twelve when the briefing ended. Langton had slammed into his office, leaving everyone taken aback. There was quite a lot of ill-feeling from the team, especially Anna, who felt that she should have been informed. She was also somewhat jealous that Grace appeared to have taken her place beside Langton: it was obvious that he no longer wanted her as his sidekick.
At one o’clock, Rashid Burry’s post-mortem results came in. He had been injected with a horse tranquillizer, so when he was garrotted he had been unable to move a single one of his massive muscles to save himself. The forensic reports from the search of the Range Rover were also coming, but in dribs and drabs. So far, they had discovered a great number of dog hairs in the rear of the Range Rover, possibly from a longhaired breed, like a German shepherd. The hairs had been sent to a different lab to be tested by an expert in canine DNA. They had found saliva and blood inside the black plastic bags that covered Rashid’s body, which were being matched with his DNA. The bags were also being matched to the bag containing the dead boy in the canal, since each roll of bags would have distinctive markings.
They had also found blood and hair in the right-hand rear seat. This was being tested as a match for Carly Ann North. The steering wheel and dashboard had been wiped clean, but fingerprints were being recovered from the rear door and the passenger door. More hair and fibres were found in the front passenger seat, plus mud on the carpet. They were also testing mud from the wheels and the chassis. The teams were working flat out and they hadn’t even removed the seats or carpet yet.
Langton read down the list from the forensic report. At long last, the case felt as if it was moving, albeit in many directions. These developments renewed his energy and he hoped that Dr Salaam could move them on a stage further; the Camorra connection had spurred him on and he was getting to feel like his old self, adrenalin buzzing. They still had not been able to trace the property in Peckham linked to Camorra; Langton surmised he had long gone and taken up residence elsewhere.
Early that afternoon, there were further press conferences and interviews, at which the police asked if anyone had seen the Range Rover parked up and, yet again, requested information from the public in connection with Joseph Sickert and Gail’s missing children.
The team had been given various tasks, but the main focus of the day was the arrival of Elmore Salaam, to discuss how they would approach Eamon Krasiniqe. They were getting regular bulletins in from the prison authorities: the young man was fading fast. He had been transferred to the hospital wing and was in isolation. The usual medical staff had been overseeing his progress and had called in various different specialists, in an attempt to keep him alive. Sick as he was, he was still able to rip out any attempt to feed him intravenously. They had put him in an oxygen tent, as his breathing had become laboured. According to the prison doctor, he still lifted his right hand to point to the opposite wall and make a slow circular movement, but even these gestures had become less frequent, as he was so weak. Krasiniqe just lay with his expressionless eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling.
Anna had been given the assignment of contacting Missing Persons, in case they had any information regarding the children. It was a time-consuming and depressing job; the number of young children missing was heartbreaking. Many of them had been kidnapped by one parent or the other and taken abroad; others had simply disappeared. Seventy per cent of the children were of ethnic origin and aged between two and eight years old. She was also in contact with immigration, getting lists of children who had been brought into the country under new legislation that allowed family members residing in the UK to act as guardians. There had already been a shocking case of a little girl shipped to a so-called aunt and uncle, and subsequently found brutally abused by both. The child was dead and the adults were now in prison. Anna skimmed the reports to see if any of the social workers had come into contact with Camorra. He was known to be a trafficker, so there was a glimmer of grim hope that perhaps one of these missing children had been part of his vicious trade.
Langton walked out of his office; he motioned to Anna and Grace. ‘The doctor and his wife are on their way. I don’t want them brought through the incident room; we’ll use an interview room. I will need the photographs of the Krasiniqe brothers, medical reports from the prison and so on.’
Grace moved off; he remained by Anna’s desk and looked at the mound of paperwork she was dealing with.
‘Anything?’
‘No, not yet. It makes very depressing reading.’