The Red Dahlia

'Professor Marshe discussed the case with Mr Reynolds's editor, who returned to the crime desk and hit the roof. She had not been privy to any contacts made, so when she found out what a newsworthy story it was, she insisted they publish an article comparing the old case and ours. As Mr Reynolds simply works for the crime section, he does not have the power to veto a story; even though he was attempting to honour the press embargo you requested, his editor paid short shrift to it and insisted it was in the public interest to release the facts that we have a nightmare murder and a maniac on the loose.'

She had to gasp for breath, she had spoken so quickly.

'That's enough,' he snapped, and glared. 'I get the picture, Travis.'

'An apology would be nice,' she said, tartly.

Langton glowered. 'I'm sorry; sorry I jumped down your throat and to the wrong conclusion.'

Anna stood up, and smiled primly at him. 'Thank you.'

She walked out, closing the door softly behind her.

She had arranged to meet all four people on her list by the time Langton came into the Incident Room. The phones had not stopped ringing and they had two extra clerks working the switchboard. Langton looked dishevelled: hair standing on end, unshaven as usual.

'We have not as yet had any response to my press release. We have got a stream of lunatics from the newspaper article, but we have to hope one might give us something. Using the victim's address book, we'll cover everyone she knew, see if they can throw any light on this suspect.'

Langton gestured to the drawing of the LA suspect, then he dug his hands into his pockets. 'All we can do is keep going. Now that the public are aware of the comparison between the LA case and ours, we will be inundated with calls, so I am giving a press conference later this afternoon. We will be disclosing our drawing, and expressing hope that someone will come forward, etcetera etcetera. What will not be disclosed is that the suspect may have made contact with Louise Pennel via an advert for a PA. We still do not have anything to back this up as yet, but keep going. We will also not disclose the fact that we have some DNA from the victim's underwear that may or may not help us if and when we catch this bastard!'

Langton covered old ground for another ten minutes and then the briefing broke up. The detectives who were to question the known associates of Louise Pennel prepared to leave.

Anna had been gone only five minutes when DS Barolli got a hit. As Anna had requested, The Times had made contact with a list of job adverts covering the period that Louise worked at the dental clinic. There were over a hundred and they had been slowly eliminating each one when Barolli came across something suspicious: a novelist, seeking a PA with shorthand and typing and a willingness to travel worldwide at a moment's notice, but requiring no previous experience: just that applicants should be between 24 and 30, attractive and well dressed. There was a box number only.

Barolli showed the advert to Langton. 'This could be the one: ran eight months ago. It was withdrawn five months ago. Payment was by postal order, and we have a box number to trace.'

Langton stared at it. 'If it's our man, he's covered his tracks, but see if they can give us where the postal order came from and check out the box number.' He smiled. 'Little Travis beavering away again. She's good.'

Barolli raised an eyebrow, 'But not that good if she raps to a bloody journalist about the case.'

'She didn't; it came from another source.'

'Like who?

Langton stood up. 'Someone who has a lot to answer for. I'll see you later.'

Anna's first interview was with Graham Dodds, who had lived in the same hostel in Brixton as Louise Pennel. He was waiting for Anna as she walked into a small, rather seedy hostel in Victoria. He was a small, wiry youth with a nervous tic; he wore torn jeans and a thick poloneck sweater. He looked and smelled like he needed a good wash; his hair and nails were filthy.

'Mr Dodds?'

'Yes, ma'am.'

'Thank you for seeing me. Is there anywhere we could talk?'

He gestured towards the TV room. 'We can go in there. It's usually empty at this time of day.'

The room reeked of stale cigarettes. Ashtrays overflowed on the arms of worn foam sofas and armchairs. The threadbare curtains were a dirty orange.

Anna sat down and smiled pleasantly as Mr Dodds twitched and hovered. 'I know what happened to Louise; I read about it in the paper, it was terrible. I've never known anyone that was murdered before. When you called here, it made me nervous, you know, and I didn't tell nobody what it was about, but I did know her.'

'Would you like to sit down, Graham? Do you mind if I call you Graham?'

'No.' He sat down opposite her and leaned forward intently.

'I am here to ask you about the time you lived in the same hostel as Louise Pennel.'

'Yes, I know, you said that on the phone, but I don't know what I can tell you. I mean, I've not seen her for a long time.'

'Can you tell me a little about the time you were there?'

He nodded. 'I was there for nine months. It was in Brixton; my social worker got me in there.'

'Did you know Louise?'

'Not really; I saw her the odd times she was in the recreational room. It was similar to this. She liked to watch the soaps. I wouldn't say that I got to know her; we just had a few chats. She was signing on at the Job Centre so I saw her there, and once we got a bus back to the hostel together. She was very nice. It's a terrible, terrible thing: I mean, she was only twenty, wasn't she?'

'Twenty-two. Did you meet any of her friends?'

'No, I never saw her with anybody outside the hostel.'

'When she left, did you maintain any contact with her?'

'No, like I said, I didn't know her that well. She got work at some clinic, doctor's or dentist's, quite a distance from the hostel, which I suppose is why she left.'

Anna took out a photograph and showed it to him. 'Are you in this photograph?'

He stared at it for a moment, then nodded. 'Yes, the hostel organised a bus trip to the Regent's Park zoo one Bank Holiday. I'd forgotten about that.'

Anna leaned forward. 'Do you know anyone else in this photograph?'

'That's me; the other bloke is Colin someone or other: he was staying at the hostel as well.' He frowned. 'They didn't like each other, Colin and her. They had some kind of argument over something stupid, like who had ordered Coke or orange juice; he said something to her and she got really uptight: they had a bit of a slanging match and then she walked off, didn't come back with us. She got in really late and I think she got told off because the door closed at eleven.'

'Do you know where this Colin is living now?'

'No.'

'Is there anything else you can recall about Louise?'

'She put it about a bit.'

'What do you mean?'

He leaned back, embarrassed. Anna waited.

'I mean, I dunno for sure, but we used to sort of talk about it, because she didn't have a job; this was before she got work at the clinic, right? There was a bar across the street and she used to go in there, and sort of get blokes to pay for meals and other things.'

'Sex?'

'I dunno, but we reckoned she was on the game. Not seriously, though.'

'What do you mean by that?'

'Well, she had to be in the hostel at eleven, so it wasn't as if she was out on the streets all night.'

'But you think she was picking up men?'

'Yeah.' He flushed.

'Did you actually see her doing this?'

He shook his head.

'When was the last time you saw Louise?'

'You mean apart from at the hostel?'

'Yes.'

'I never saw her again; she never even said goodbye to anyone.'

Anna returned to her car, the smell of nicotine in her nostrils and on her clothes. The hostel had been a forlorn place, almost on a par with the bed-and-breakfast hotel she next went to in Paddington. Louise had stayed here before moving to live at Sharon's flat. The residents were mostly travelling salesmen and she began to feel it was going to be another waste of time. The woman that managed the hotel was Lebanese, and not very friendly: Mrs Ashkar had already been questioned by DS Barolli and resented having to repeat herself to Anna. She glanced at the photographs and said she did not know anyone; the only person she did know was the victim Louise Pennel and she said that she was very sorry for what had happened to her.