The Red Dahlia

'Surely this house has to have one?'

'Yes it does, but I've not been down there for years: the stairs are very steep.'

'Where is it?'

'Behind the laundry room.'

Anna thanked her, and went back to Langton. 'There's a cellar here; its access is in the laundry room.'

Langton frowned. 'It's not on the survey.'

'Well, Mrs Hedges has just said it is there; she said it had very steep stairs.'

Langton wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. 'Let's take a look.'

They stood in the small, windowless laundry room. One wall was taken up with all the security boxes for the gates and estate; another had two washing machines and tumbledryers, a very high-powered-looking pressing machine and an ironing board stacked against it; the third had rows and rows of shelves, with sheets and towels in colour-coordinated stacks.

Langton sighed. 'Move the shelves.'

Lewis bent down; they were secured with bolts to the floor.

'We'll have to dismantle them,' he said.

'Do it: get some of the SOCO boys in here to give you a hand.'

'There are four female SOCO officers sir, do you need them as well?'

He turned and glared at her. 'Don't give me this female crap now, Travis!'

He stalked out past Anna. She could see he was getting very tense; it was now after two and they had found nothing incriminating.

Langton paced up and down outside the house, smoking. Barolli joined him.

'We're coming up with fuck all over at the barn.'

'Yeah, so I've been told.'

'You want to release some of the men?'

'No, keep going.'

'Found a hidden room behind the fireplace at the cottage, just a square sort of chamber. You could get up and out of the chimney, if you were an anorexic dwarf.'

'Shit!' Langton muttered. This was worse than he could have anticipated.

'His study was clean as a whistle. We moved out hundreds of books, but some heavy porn videos and magazines is about all we've got so far.'

'Plus the diamond-and-emerald necklace.'

'Oh yeah, right. You think Wickenham bribed Sharon Bilkin with the brooch?'

'Right now, pal, I can't think; this whole thing is looking like a fucking fiasco.'

Just then, Lewis appeared at the front door.

Langton looked over, anxiously. 'We got something?'

'Think so: we started to dismantle the unit, but there's a spring attached — the thing moves and opens like a door.'

Langton could feel the blood rush to his head. He ground his cigarette into the gravel and hurried into the house. The shelving unit was partly dismantled; behind it was painted chipboard. Langton watched in anticipation as it was eased gently back and removed. Langton ducked around it to see what it had hidden.

There was a studded door with an archdeacon arch. It had a heavy bolt across the top and bottom. They were silent as Lewis eased back the top bolt and then bent low to loosen the one at the bottom. He straightened and turned the iron hand ring. It moved easily, as if oiled, with no creaking or groaning sound. The door opened inwards.

'This isn't on any of the plans,' Langton said quietly.

Lewis stepped back to allow Langton to have the first view of what lay beyond the door. There were stone steps, steep ones, and below they could see nothing but inky darkness.

'Is there a fight?'

Lewis peered around, but could see no connection. A torch was passed in; a few of the team had gathered outside the laundry room. The torch's beam lit up the stairs but did not reach beyond them. Langton began slowly to descend. There was a rope banister, attached to the wall with iron rings. Behind him, Lewis and Anna followed cautiously.

At the bottom, there was a thick slabbed wall of what looked like York stone. There was hardly enough space to turn, it was so close to the bottom stair. Langton shone the beam of the torch to his right; there was another archway, a door partly ajar. He inched forward, and stopped. There was a strong smell of disinfectant. Two more torches were handed to Anna and she passed one to Lewis as they now slowly made their way through to the next chamber.

The room was larger than they expected, at least twenty-five feet long and fifteen feet wide. The walls and floor were stone. There was an operating table, and a swill table with a big stone washbasin.

'It's like a fucking Victorian mortuary,' Langton said, and put out his arm to stop either Lewis or Anna passing. 'Stay back. I want forensics down here fast; we don't go in any further.'

Anna shone her torch over chains and handcuffs, cabinets filled with bottles of medical supplies. The beam lit up an array of surgeons' saws, all neatly laid out on a table with a white linen cloth.

The three detectives backed out slowly as the forensic team streamed past with their equipment.

'Get me a paper suit, Travis. I want to be down there with them.' He smiled. 'Feeling better now!'

Wickenham obviously knew about the discovery, but had hardly shown any reaction. The uniformed officer who had remained in the lounge with him was relieved by Constable Ed Harris. Seeing that Harris could hardly contain himself, he was slightly peeved that he'd missed all the excitement and scuttled off to get some tea.

Harris looked over to where Charles Wickenham reclined, his manacled hands resting against his thighs.

'Any damage and you'll all pay for it,' he said indolently.

They had discovered the light switches for the cellar, attached to their own small generator. The cellar was flooded with light as the forensic team set to work. Each saw was carefully bagged and tagged. One officer was carefully removing the taps and the drainage system, examining the pipes and taking a lot of samples. Their voices were hardly above a whisper. One after the other was finding blood samples. Langton saw them withdrawing some long hairs from the pipes before deciding to remove the entire waste disposal unit.

Another officer was examining the drugs in the cabinet. There was a considerable amount of morphine and formaldehyde in big canisters, as well as a substantial quantity of cocaine and heroin. It was as if they had opened a twisted version of Aladdin's cave.

Meanwhile, the rest of the officers gathered outside and watched as large plastic bags were carried out; one contained at least a hundred pornographic videos.

Langton came out. He stripped off the paper cover from his shoes and began to rip off his paper suit. Anna went up to him.

'We going to take him in now?'

Langton smiled. He handed to Anna a clipboard listing what had been discovered to date. 'I want him to look over this: we've got heavy-duty bloodstains and hair, and in the incinerator Christ only knows what. It's a makeshift operating theatre, with as much equipment as a hospital emergency room.'

A shout went up from the house; they turned as Lewis hurtled out. He was red-faced and shaking.

'He's fucking gone; did anyone see him come out this way?'

Langton could hardly believe what he was hearing. 'Gone? Gone? What the fuck are you talking about?'

'Wickenham: he's gone'

Constable Ed Harris had been hit over the head and was semi-concussed. A chair had been overturned and some cushions were on the floor, but otherwise the room was as they had left it. Langton was beside himself. Somehow, Charles Wickenham, despite being surrounded by officers, had done an amazing disappearing act. The stables, the cottage, the surrounding outhouses, the woods and fields were all searched; it seemed he had vanished into thin air.

Anna went to see Mrs Hedges. She was sleeping, and woke startled.

'Mrs Hedges, has Charles Wickenham been in here?'

'No, no, I've been alone, what's happened?'

Anna hesitated, then sat down. 'We found the cellar, and we have discovered a number of items.'