Anna went into her office and collected her briefcase. She could still see the strange jabbing pencil dents in her desk made by Langton. She ran her finger over them, and realized the indentations were her own initials, A. T
CHAPTER 23
Pete was appalled that, since he had last been at Anna s, the flat was still in the same state, as if she had only just moved in. Anna opened a bottle of wine and they ate fish and chips, sitting on kitchen stools. When Pete asked how the case was going, Anna went into an edited version of what Langton thought went down.
Wafting his fork around, Pete mimicked Langton, launching into the various coincidences, especially the Most Wanted man in the UK and the USA leaving his drugs to be stolen from the jeep, not once but twice! "You know what I think?" he ended up.
Anna scooped up some chips in her fingers, dipping them in ketchup. "Surprise me."
"I think you've lost him. All this surmising about who did what and where, is crap: the reality is that Alexander Fitzpatrick is way out of your reach."
"I don't agree."
"Agree or not, you are still facing the fact that he walked into the station, hoodwinked the lot of you, walked out armed with the address of whatsit, D'Anton, picked up his wife, collected what you presume to be his missing drugs, and oh, I almost forgot, strangled her to death!"
Anna pushed her half-eaten meal away. He was starting to annoy her.
"Why this delay in bringing in the only suspects other than Fitzpatrick: Julia Brandon's sister, and her husband?" Pete demanded.
"The surveillance reports are giving us a day-to-day rundown; the couple can't make a move without us knowing."
'If the surveillance guys are as obvious as they usually are ..."
She snapped at him. "They are not! We've got a crew digging up Part of a field for, supposedly, BT, and another crew laying down cables ..." "Very inventive!" he said sarcastically."Yes—and costly. I shouldn't even be telling you all this.""Why not? Who the hell do you think I am going to repeat it to?"Anna sighed and sipped her wine; she was tired and getting a headache, so she fetched a bottle of aspirin. Pete watched her, then picked up the dirty dishes and crossed to the sink."I'm going to take a shower," Anna said wearily.
"Terrific. Is that an invitation for me to join you, or should I go home? Sometimes you get me feeling like I should have a bike with Takeaway, Deliveries printed on it!" "I'm sorry." "You've got a headache?" "One coming; I can feel it tight round the back of my head.""Ah, so that's the excuse tonight, is it? You've got a headache! Well, fine. You go and shower; I'll clean up and get my coat." Anna didn't answer; she walked out, leaving him stacking the dishwasher. As she was about to step into the shower, she heard the front door slam shut. She had no sooner showered, and got into her pajamas, than the doorbell rang.He stood on the doorstep, glowering. "I can't get my car out. The gates won't open without the remote and I don't know the code."Anna wrapped her arms around him and said she was sorry. She was about to pass him the code, when he kicked the door shut behind him. "Let's go to bed."She didn't feel she could reject him. By the time he had showered and joined her in bed, she could hardly keep her eyes open. He kissed her lovingly and she knew they would have sex. She didn't want that, but went through the motions, hoping it would be over as quickly as possible. It was a strange feeling; her mind was so distant from her actions. It was Pete who fell asleep first, lying next to her, one arm resting across her chest protectively. She gently stroked his hair, almost as if he was a child, feeling his warm breath against her neck, and a little guilty that she had not wanted him to make love to her. That was what really played on her mind: not the case, thankfully, but the fact that her relationship with Pete was for her just as friends. She didn't even think ofLangton; instead, as she closed her eyes, it felt like she was floating above herself, detached from Pete, looking down at her nakedness entwined with his and feeling nothing.She woke with a jolt when his wristwatch started buzzing. It was after eight and she went into panic mode. The team were to organize the big press gathering and she wanted to be present. By the time she had dressed and gulped down a cup of black coffee, they were both ready to leave. As they entered the car park, he kissed her and said he would call her later; maybe if she had time, they could take in a movie.Anna wasn't really listening as she threw her briefcase into the Mini and switched on the engine. She reckoned if she put her foot down, she'd just make it for nine. Wrong.The garage doors refused to budge. Other tenants eager to leave for work were in the same predicament, and there were heated rows with Mr. Burk, the security manager, who was attempting to open the gates manually; he could only manage to get them open a few inches before they clanged shut again.James Fullford kicked at the closed gates. "I should get a fucking boat! This is the third time in less than a month this has happened!" He turned to Anna and Pete. "I could fucking anchor it on the river by the time this idiot gets these working; even if he does open them, there is no way I can make my meeting in time. I'm going to lose a fortune." He stomped around as more tenants appeared and stood helplessly, watching Burk as he tried to operate the doors, but they held firm.By the time Anna was able to get a taxi to the press conference, it had already disbanded, so she caught a tube up to Chalk Farm. She knew she would be in the firing line; making an excuse about the garage doors would not be acceptable. Thankfully, Langton was not at the station—but Cunningham was, and she was furious. Anna was about to apologize when the photograph of the missing Adrian Summers caught her eye. Anna's mind started ticking. She could feel it down to the balls °f her feet, jigsaw pieces tumbling, and she had to catch her breath to steady herself. She snatched down the photograph and almost ran to her office. "Gordon, get in here,
now!" She didn't even realize she had done a familiar gesture: the Langton hand waft, which had always irritated her. "You recognize him?" She held upthe photograph. Gordon hurried in after her. "No.""Nor did I, until I looked at it from a distance. Take a good look, Gordon."He stared at the photograph as she moved around her desk, holding it at chest height. "Go back to when we went to the farmhouse, Gordon."He still looked nonplussed. She was exasperated, wanting him to get the same recognition. "The boy we saw when we were there, remember? The one who walked into the yard. Is it him?""Christ, yes. Yes, I think it is!" Gordon picked up the photograph as she tossed it onto the desk."I'm bloody sure it is," she said as she heaved fdes onto her desk from where they were stacked on the floor. "Okay, now we go back to the painting in the farmhouse: the boat.""Yes, it was there and then not—I remember!" Gordon could feel her energy; it made him nervous."Okay, you tell me why would anyone remove it? It was of an old boat belonging to Alexander Fitzpatrick, right?""Yes, Dare Devil, but we had confirmation that it had been sold," Gordon said."That's not my point." She began to give out orders. She wanted the marina in Brighton checked out; she wanted to know of every boat anchored there for the past six months and any boat coming and going; she wanted owners' names—and fast. "Come on, Gordon, get thinking. Alexander Fitzpatrick's rented house was in Brighton. What if he had a boat anchored there at the marina as well? We've not been able to trace him staying at any hotels, but we know he's been in London—so get onto it."Anna didn't even put forward their findings to Cunningham, but instead left the station a little later and, in a patrol car, went over to Scotland Yard. After checking in at the reception, she took the lift up to Langton's office.She could hardly contain herself as she approached him. "I think we' ve got him cornered," she said.She had never been to his office before and was surprised at the size f it; his desk and comfortable sitting area were impressive. There were numerous family photographs of his ex-wife and the two children, Kitty and Tommy. That took her aback, as it was so unexpected: the domesticity of his life of which she now knew so little."Come on, let's hear it." Langton sat in a large leather swivel chair behind his desk, but Anna couldn't sit, she was so eager to give him the update.Langton listened as she described the sighting at the farmhouse of Adrian Summers, certain she was correct. She gave details of how, after two hours, Gordon had traced a large boat called Maiden to Brighton Marina. The boat had to give the harbormaster details of ownership: the name was one of Alexander Fitzpatrick's aliases. The same boat was now anchored in Chelsea harbor. According to the harbormaster, it had been registered there for only one month."I went along with your theory, but now I've come up with a slightly different one." Anna's chest heaved because she was talking so fast; Langton had to gesture for her to slow down. Anna dragged out papers from her briefcase. One of the things that had bothered her was the scrap of paper with directions to the farm—written, they believed, by Damien Nolan. How had that paper got into the Mitsubishi's glove compartment? If, as they believed, Fitzpatrick knew the location, why would there be directions? Unless ...