The Red Dahlia

'They were both brutally murdered, Emily. One of them, this girl, was called Louise Penneclass="underline" the press call her the Red Dahlia.'

Emily was getting tearful; she looked at the photographs again and shook her head.

'These weekend parties; did your father entertain young girls like these?'

'Sometimes, but I don't really know. I think you should leave, because I think you are trying to make me say something about stuff that I don't know about, and you are frightening me.'

'I'm sorry, Emily, that is not our intention. We are simply trying to ascertain if either of these poor girls ever visited your father at Mayerling Hall; if not your father, perhaps your brother?'

Emily now began twisting her hair round her fingers. 'I have told you that I don't go home very often. If Daddy knows these girls, why don't you ask him about them? I don't know anything and I don't want to get into trouble.'

'Trouble with your father?"

'Yes, he's very strict. I don't know how many more times I have to tell you that I have never met those girls; you just keep on asking me the same thing.'

'Did your father have many girlfriends?'

Emily sprang up from the chair, near to tears. 'I think you should go, please. I am not going to talk to you any more; this is very upsetting.'

Barolli and Anna had heard nothing to indicate that either Wickenham or his son knew the victims, so, reluctantly, they did as Emily asked.

Justine Wickenham was wearing jodhpurs, black riding boots and a thick, cable-knit sweater. She had been mucking out at the stables. When Langton and Lewis turned up, she carried on, saying she had to get it done before the morning rides. Like her sister, she thought they were there to question her about a minor incident. She had driven into the back of someone on the high street and there had been an altercation. Lewis said they were here about a personal matter and needed to talk to her privately.

They ended up in the tack room. Justine was as tall as Emily, but broader and with thick blonde hair. Whereas Emily had his deep-set eyes, Justine had her father's hooknose. When asked about him, she was far more forthcoming than her sister.

'I hate him. We don't speak. Whatever he's got up to is his business. I don't want to get involved.' Her tone was strident.

Justine was unable to recognise either Louise or Sharon but did say that they looked the type that were often at the Hall. 'Daddy likes them young!' she said, turning down the corners of her mouth with disgust. She was told the girls had been murdered. 'That's awful, but I don't know them.'

Langton held up the photograph of Louise Pennel. 'This girl's body was found here in Richmond, on the river bank.'

Justine gasped as it sank in. 'Oh my God, I know about that. It was in all the papers; I ride past that bit of the river most mornings. I almost had heart failure, it was terrible. I wasn't here at the time; I was staying at my mother's apartment in Milan.'

Langton asked if she lived close to the river and she said that she did, in a rented flat owned by the stables. When asked if her father ever used her flat, she shook her head.

'You must be joking. I mean, he pays for it, but he's never been inside it. I never see him.'

'Were you in London on the ninth of January this year?'

Justine glanced at a wall calendar and said that she had been at her mother's for the weekend.

'Does your father have a key to your flat?'

She shrieked and said that she wouldn't let him near the place.

'What about your brother?'

'Edward?'

'Yes, does he have a key?'

'To my flat?'

'Yes.'

'Gosh, I doubt it, no; he's not been to see me for months.'

Langton detected a sudden change in her demeanour; she wouldn't meet his eyes, looking down at the toes of her boots.

'Do you have a good relationship with your brother?'

'He's my half-brother,' she said, quietly.

'Do you get along well?'

'No, we don't; I have no idea what he's said to you, but we just find it better to keep apart.'

'Why?'

She shrugged, still staring at her boots. 'We just do; I'm not into all that stuff.'

'What stuff?'

She sighed, and began to chew at her lips. 'Just stuff that goes on. Edward gets a lot of stick from my father because he's not that bright. I mean, he's not stupid or anything, he's just not very intelligent; for a while, he took too many drugs.'

'Your brother?'

'Yes, he got kicked out of Marlborough for smoking dope. Daddy wouldn't have minded the dope, it was being caught out that really got to him. Poor Edward was really in a terrible state. Daddy put him into rehab, but he wasn't a real addict. Anyway, it was horrible and now he works for Daddy at the Hall; you know, it's a big place to run.'

'His wife committed suicide, didn't she?'

Justine nodded, becoming very tense. 'Why do you want to know about Edward?'

Langton said it was for elimination purposes, but she was suddenly very guarded. 'I don't like this. I mean, shouldn't I have someone with me? Why are you asking me all these questions about my brother and my father? You can't seriously think they have done anything wrong or are involved in those awful murders. I mean, you can't think that.' She rubbed her head and sighed. 'Oh my God, I know why: it's Emily, isn't it? What has she been saying? You can't really take anything she says seriously; she's got a lot of problems. You know she's bulimic? She almost died a couple of years ago, got down to five stone.'

'I have not talked to your sister,' Langton said.

Justine cocked her head to one side. 'I don't think I am going to talk to you any more.'

Back at the station, Anna and Langton compared their interview notes. Langton wanted to get a warrant issued for Justine Wickenham's flat so the forensic team could get in there and search for bloodstains. It was possible that Wickenham had used her flat the night of the murder: it was literally a stone's throw from where they had found Louise Pennel.

'Question is, which Wickenham?' Anna said.

'Yeah I know; the brother's shaping up as a possible suspect.'

'Unless they are in it together?'

Langton nodded and then changed the subject, asking if her passport was up to date. She said it was.

'Good: we go to Milan tomorrow.'

Anna grinned; she had not thought she would stand a chance of being selected.

'I want a woman with me when I interview the ex-wife; sometimes old Lewis is like a block of wood.'

She smiled and said Barolli was a bit on the wooden side as well. Langton laughed. She had not heard him laugh for a long time. His lovely warm chuckle altered his whole being, making him boyish.

'We'll just stay overnight, back next afternoon, so get off and arrange it,' he said.

'Will do.' She was about to open the door to leave when Langton took a call and he signalled for her to wait.

'Listen, Mike, I don't give a fuck, I want his phone tapped. What? Put her through then! Yes! Christ.'

Anna waited as he listened and then spoke quietly into the phone. 'Commander, thank you for getting back so promptly. I cannot express too strongly how much we really need this man monitored. As you know, Professor Marshe…' He winked at Anna. 'Yes, yes she did, and it really is more or less on her advice.'

He grinned at Anna as he smoothtalked the Commander, his eyes raised to heaven. 'Thank you, and again I appreciate you getting back to me, thank you.'

He hung up and shook his head. 'Wanker. Anyway, we've got the go-ahead for the phone tap. They all pussyfoot around but she's a decent girl, just has to go by the rule book. She's also given us some extra officers to back us up.'

Dominique Wickenham had agreed to meet with them on the Saturday, the morning after their flight. On Langton's instructions, they had booked into the Hyatt Hilton hotel. There were a few raised eyebrows, as it was a very luxurious and expensive hotel. The fact that he was travelling with Anna had also created quite an undercurrent. Barolli and Lewis had both expected to be with Langton. Together they had a quiet moan, though neither spoke up or queried it in front of the team, as Langton wanted them at base to monitor the phone taps and report to him if anything came in.