Anna reported that she was certain the teddy bear had belonged to Gail’s dead toddler. He slammed the door of the patrol car, turned and glared at her; then faced front.
‘I think Sickert’s belongings should be dropped off at the lab,’ she added.
Langton snapped that they should call in a squad car to take them; they didn’t want to lose time.
Mike Lewis put in the call and Anna sat chewing her lip, waiting. Lewis finished the call, glanced at Anna and gave a shrug. Langton had still not said one word about the interaction with Sickert.
‘So, did you get anything, Gov?’ Mike asked finally.
Langton nodded and again looked at his wristwatch. ‘We’ll have a working lunch, then get over to do the interviews with the Krasiniqe pricks and the voodoo nutters.’
By the time they reached the New Forest, they had confirmation that Operation Eagle was on course. There were now fifty more officers brought in; Langton knew he could not put on pressure for any more.
He strode into the incident room, his positive energy and physical appearance still confusing Anna. He appeared to have no ill-effects from the previous evening; on the contrary. He paused only to tell Grace to order in sandwiches and coffee, as there would be a lunchtime briefing. Just as he reached his office, Grace received a call from Westminster Hospital; she asked if he wished to take it. He shook his head.
Joseph Sickert had died fifteen minutes after they had left the hospital. Langton didn’t even react; he simply nodded his head and then instructed her to arrange for the body to be taken to the mortuary, as he wanted a post mortem. Then he strode into his office and shut the door.
The room erupted, everyone wanting to know what had taken place. Anna and Lewis filled them in as much as they could, but they did not know if Sickert had said anything of any consequence; Langton had not discussed it with them.
‘Well — one down. Still a few more bastards to get,’ Harry Blunt said.
Langton closed the blinds in his office, took out three painkillers and uncapped a flask to gulp them down with vodka. Then he opened his notebook and began to write copious notes. As he returned the flask to his desk drawer, he glanced down at Camorra’s details. He touched them lightly with his index finger.
‘Getting closer,’ he whispered.
Removing his tie, he neatly folded his jacket into a pillow and lay down on the floor, closing his eyes. He would need all his strength for the afternoon. He just hoped to God that he would still be able to stand upright, let alone cope; he knew better than anyone else that this was killing him.
By three o’clock, Operation Eagle would be rolling; the vast number of officers required was costly and he would have to prove it worthwhile. If he didn’t, there would be major repercussions: first and foremost, the Met would bring in another team. Langton had, at no time, even hinted to the incident room just what was on the line. However, if he got Camorra — and he fully intended to physically get to him before anyone else — the man who had, to his mind, almost destroyed him, then nothing else would matter.
Resting flat out on the floor, his head on his folded jacket, the constant ringing of the phones and the murmur of voices in the incident room lulled him into a deep sleep.
Harry was sitting on the edge of Anna’s desk; he had just got a call from his brother-in-law. He squeezed a small rubber ball in his right hand.
‘It’s fucking unbelievable. He goes to start work on a big building project, only to be told that he and his crew won’t be required — they’ve fucking hired a mound of Polish workmen at half the price. He’s got three kids, what’s he supposed to do? Agree to work for a pittance? He said that Westminster Council’s homeless teams are warning the Government about them; they’ve started on substance abuse, criminal activity and prostitution. It’s bad enough with the bloody Romanians—’
‘Harry! Please give it a rest, will you?’
‘Sorry, sorry. It’s just seeing those two little kids — it really got to me, you know? I couldn’t sleep last night. It’s just all kind of crazy, I mean, what’s happening? If you think what it costs to keep Ian Brady alive…’
‘What?’ Anna couldn’t follow his train of thought.
‘He was a fucking child killer, right? Been banged up for over thirty years — how much has that cost? Thousands, bloody thousands. Meanwhile, they got killers escaping from fucking open prisons, no idea where they are. Have you any idea what dangerous men are on the loose?’ The constant squeezing of the rubber ball showed how much Harry was on edge.
‘Harry, please — go and get a cup of tea.’
‘Hang the bastards, that’s what I think — get rid of them for good. Catch them and then let them rot.’
Anna was relieved when he moved off, with his rubber ball, to bend someone else’s ear. She checked the time. Everyone in the incident room was visibly tense; like Anna, they were all waiting for Langton to appear. The clock was ticking, and if Operation Eagle was on schedule, both the Krasiniqe brothers would be heading towards their destination. She gave a silent prayer that it would be worthwhile; for she was certain that, if the vast cost to arrange it culminated in no gain, she would be in trouble.
She looked over to the closed blinds of Langton’s office, unaware that, despite all the mounting pressure, he was fast asleep.
Chapter Seventeen
Langton had still not made an appearance. Harry Blunt, who had been trying to track down information about Sickert’s background, was still in his usual state of belligerence.
‘The bloody Government is in paralysis! They were supposed to have made the criminal system a top priority, and after four Home Secretaries, forty-three pieces of legislation, and nine years, it’s still a total effing shambles.’
Frank Brandon raised his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Give us a break, Harry.’
‘I’d like someone to fucking give us one. Sickert isn’t on any single scrap of paper! He comes into this country, slices up kids, runs off with two others; Christ only knows what he was doing to them.’ He turned to Grace. ‘We got anything more from the Child Protection Unit as to how those two little ones are doing?’
Grace shook her head.
Harry paced around, still squeezing his rubber ball in his fat hand. ‘Damaged for life, poor little sods. I’d like to have got my hands round his throat.’ He sat back in his chair with a thud.
The tension of waiting for the briefing was getting to all of them. Coffee and sandwiches were wheeled in on a trolley; they gathered around it.
Anna took her lunch to her desk, and then went to Langton’s office. Just as she was about to tap on the door, it swung open.
‘Right, everyone gathered?’ he asked, as he passed her. He paused at Harry’s desk and leaned in to talk to him. ‘Listen, Harry, you got to start keeping that yapping mouth shut, whatever your private feelings are. You want to go up the ranks, you won’t stand a hope in hell if you carry on like that. Maybe we all feel the same way — just don’t broadcast it, okay?’
‘Yeah, sorry, Gov.’
Langton patted his shoulder, walked along to the incident board and then turned to the room. ‘Okay, Operation Eagle is set to roll. Doctor Salaam is in a segregated unit at the hospital, with his wife and both prisoners.’
Anna and Lewis would accompany Langton to the hospital; he then listed priorities for the rest of the team.
When told by Harry that they still had no information about Sickert, Langton shrugged; he had been expecting as much.
‘Did you get anything from him?’ Harry asked.