The Red Dahlia

It was another ten minutes before Doreen Sharpe arrived. She was the cloakroom attendant, a single mother in her early thirties.

'This shouldn't take long.' Anna once again laid out the photographs of Louise Pennel. 'Her coat was maroon with a velvet collar,' she said and described the rest of Louise's outfit.

Doreen took her time; she looked from one photograph to the next and licked her lips. 'I've been reading about the murder,' she said, softly. 'Terrible thing; they call her the Red Dahlia, don't they?'

'Yes, that is correct.'

'She didn't leave me a tip.'

'I'm sorry?' Anna leaned forwards.

'She left her coat. I put it on a hanger for her, gave her the ticket; it's sort of a courtesy thing the club has, you know: they don't charge you for leaving your coats, but you make it up in tips.'

'You remember Louise Pennel?'

'The coat didn't fit what she was wearing underneath it — very low-cut top and short skirt — it was more a coat worn by a rich teenager in the fifties. I used to have a second-hand one but it was green, vented collar and six velvet-covered buttons, but hers was red, dark maroon, and came from Harrods. I saw the label.'

Anna was flabbergasted.

'I put it on a hanger for her and gave her a ticket. It was quite early on. I have a system, you know; the early birds I put on the back rail because as the evening goes on, they are the ones that leave late. Don't ask me why, but they do; we get a big rush between eleven and two, people coming in from shows or dinner, and they usually stay only an hour or so, you have to have a system or you'd be searching through the racks like a demented idiot.'

'So you took her coat?'

'Yes, and hung it on the back rail. She took her ticket and went into the bar area, I think.'

Anna could hardly believe what she was hearing.

'It would be about eleven-thirty, maybe a bit after when she came back. I said to her that she was leaving early and she said that she had to go, so I got her coat. I passed it over and she walked off, without so much as a thank-you, let alone a tip!'

Anna showed her the sketch of their suspect. 'This is just a drawing of the man we think Louise might have been waiting for; did you see him?'

'I've been thinking about him,' Doreen said, tapping the sketch.

Anna could hardly contain herself. 'You saw him?'

'Well I think I might have; I couldn't be one hundred per cent sure.'

'In the club?'

'No, outside.'

'Outside the club?'

'Yes, by the fire escape doors, they lead into an alley; when we need a cigarette break, we nip out there. At the end of the alley is the road that runs behind the club. It's only a few feet away, and the parking attendants have a field day because punters think they can park out there, but they hand out tickets like confetti!'

'You saw this man?'

'Like I said, I am not one hundred per cent sure; it could have been him. I didn't get that much of a good look, what I saw was him sitting inside his car.'

'Do you know what make of car it was?'

'Black, very shiny, caught the lights, maybe the new Rover? I'm not good with cars, but my boss on the other job has one and it was similar to his, which is why I remember it.'

'He was sitting inside the car?'

'Yes, then he got out and walked round to the passenger side as she came up to the car. He opened the door and she sort of hung back; then he pulled her towards him and they looked like they were having some kind of argument, but from where I was standing I couldn't hear what they were saying. She pulled away from him and then he gripped her by the arm and pushed her into the car; he slammed the door so hard, it rocked the car. The reason I remember it was I saw her coat and I wondered if he was maybe her father, because I thought she was very over made-up. I mean she was only twenty-two, wasn't she?'

'Yes,' Anna nodded, glancing at Barolli who stared at Doreen in total silence. 'And he looked like this sketch?' Anna persisted.

'Yes, thin-faced, short hair, and he had this long dark coat on. It could be him; quite tall as well, but not well built.'

'Can you recall anything else?'

'No, I went back in, in fact before they drove off. I can only take a few minutes out there or there would be coats up the ying-yang, and I got to get someone to look after the tickets. I usually get one of the girls from the toilets: they have two on duty because people make such a mess in there.'

Just as Anna was about to thank Doreen for coming in, she dropped another jewel in their lap. 'She had a friend with her, blonde girl, she's often at the club; she's a naughty one. She didn't stay more than an hour.'

Anna closed her eyes; this had to be Sharon.

'So I had to get her wrap, it was one of those bits of fur; you know, sort of a collar thing that's in fashion at the moment: you can't really hang them up on the hangers, you've got to tie them or they slip off. She was quite a little madam: she said for me not to tie a knot in the ribbon; anyways, she came back and she was with her.'

'I'm sorry, who was with her?'

'Your dead girl, she was with her; they were arguing and then the blonde girl opened her bag and gave her some money.'

Anna opened her file, searched around and brought out the photograph used by the newspapers of Sharon. 'Is this the blonde girl?'

'Yes, that's her. I mean, I don't know her, but I saw her picture in the newspaper as well, I recognised them both. The blonde has quite a mouth on her, and they was really having a row, and then she almost threw this money at her and screeched out something, then sort of pushed her; you know, like a smack, but it was a push.'

As Anna put the photographs back in the file, Barolli beat her to the next question.

'Why haven't you come forward with this information?'

Doreen looked startled. 'Well I didn't think it was anything interesting, you know. I didn't think it meant anything, really; it doesn't, does it?'

'It's a great help to us.' Anna smiled, though she didn't feel happy at all. She was furious that Sharon had not told them the truth about her last night with Louise. Doreen led them to the alleyway and fire exit. The road was not that far from the doorway and, as Doreen pointed out, it was very well lit. As they returned to the club, Doreen, who by now fancied herself as some kind of detective, stopped to show them the cloakroom.

'I think there was some jealousy going on between them. I mean, as I said, I didn't hear exactly what they were saying, but it was quite a nasty squabble; the dead girl was very upset afterwards. She went into the ladies', then next minute she's wanting her coat!'

Doreen was about to repeat everything she had told them about her methods of running the cloakroom, but Anna cut her short. 'You have been really very helpful, Doreen, thank you.'

'Is there a reward?'

Barolli glanced at Anna as he headed out.

'No, I'm sorry, there isn't.'

Barolli already had the engine ticking over as Anna joined him.

'Don't bloody believe this,' he muttered.

'What, you think she's lying?' Anna said, slamming her door closed.

'No, just the one person I didn't question, and bingo! Not that we got too much out of it.'

'You want to bet? I think that little cow Sharon has been holding out on us, so I want to get to see her a.s.a.p. I know it would be too much luck, but can you check if a traffic warden saw the car parked up? She said they stick tickets on anything parked in that road.' Barolli nodded and made a call on his mobile as Anna tried to contact Sharon on hers. There was no reply. By the time they returned to the station, it was after twelve. As Anna was updating Langton, they were interrupted with a message to say that there had been no ticket issued to a black Rover; all the other vehicles parked in the road behind the club would now be checked, in case one of them proved to be their suspect's car. Two steps forward, one back, and by three o'clock, Anna still had not been able to contact Sharon.