Anna had not expected to be met at Glasgow, but standing on the station platform as the train pulled in was a uniformed officer. The patrol car drove her to her hotel and the officer waited while she took a shower. It was not yet nine when she was driven to the Glasgow police station and again she was surprised to be met, by DCI Alex McBride, who had fresh coffee and oatcakes for her on a tray in his office. He was a very well built man with broad shoulders and a wide pleasant face, dotted with moles, and eyebrows so thick they were like an extension of his brown curly hair. When he shook her hand, her elbow jerked up and down, it was such a firm grip.
McBride filled her in with the details of the armed robbery case in which the security guard had died from gunshot wounds. Anna listened attentively, remembering that their main suspect was the boyfriend of Eileen Oates. As he had given Eileen as his alibi, she had been questioned and they had looked into her background. One daughter, Megan, aged sixteen, was pregnant and living at home and the other, Corinna, was a known heroin addict. Corinna had also been arrested for prostitution on two occasions, but the courts had deferred sentencing on the condition the young woman agreed to go into rehab. McBride informed Anna that he had contacted the centre this morning to check on her progress, only to discover that she had walked out after a week or so and her current whereabouts were not known. McBride suggested she was probably in a drug den somewhere and they’d no doubt find her in a gutter with a needle in her arm. But they had not had any sightings of Henry Oates or any reports of him ever visiting his ex-wife.
Their suspect for the bank robbery was a Donald McAleese. He had an extensive police record for assault, fencing stolen property and burglary. After finishing her coffee, Anna was taken to the incident room and shown McAleese’s details and photograph.
‘Do you suspect that Eileen is lying?’
‘We do, and we know that she and McAleese were cohabiting at one time. We had numerous call-outs from neighbours a few years ago. She would always drop charges for assault, but he is a very violent man and it’s possible she’s too scared to admit she’s lying.’
McBride took Anna through the statements taken from Eileen. She had claimed that McAleese had been with her the afternoon of the robbery and had spent the evening with her visiting a local pub and afterwards taking home fish and chips. The police were only able to verify that McAleese was with her in the pub during the evening and that they were later seen in the fish and chip shop. Eileen was his sole alibi for the afternoon of the robbery.
‘The robbery went down at two-thirty in the afternoon on a security van and the whole thing was recorded on CCTV. It was carried out by two masked men, one with a sawn-off shotgun and one with a hand gun. The man with the sawn-off pointed it at the driver’s head while the other demanded the money from the guard who had just come out of the bank. The guard turned to run so he shot him twice in the back of the head with the hand gun,’ McBride explained as he turned a computer screen towards Anna and played the CCTV of the robbery.
‘That defies belief. A life lost for what, a few thousand pounds,’ Anna said, taken aback by the gratuitous violence and the senseless death of the young security guard.
‘For nothing. The scum thought he had made a collection from the bank but he’d just made a delivery so the container was empty.’
‘Why do you suspect McAleese if they were both masked?’ Anna enquired.
‘You could see on the CCTV video that the man who did the shooting had a pronounced limp in his right leg. Well, so does McAleese, as the result of a bad motorbike accident a few years ago.’
Anna paused by the incident board to study the mug shots of Donald McAleese. He was a tough mean-looking man, with small close-set eyes and his thinning greasy hair combed back from a high forehead.
‘Where is he now?’
‘We’ve got him under surveillance, living with his mother, but without more evidence and with no identity for the second man we don’t have enough to arrest and charge him.’
‘How many suspects can you have with a limp?’
She smiled, but McBride was not amused. He checked his watch.
‘Let me go and check if Mrs Oates has been brought in. You want me to leave you alone with her?’
Anna nodded.
‘Can I get you another coffee?’
‘No, thank you.’
As she waited to be called to the interview room, Anna had another look at Donald McAleese’s mug shots and decided Eileen Oates didn’t have great taste in men.
Eileen Oates looked younger than Anna had expected. She had blonde scruffy hair, a thin pale face with acne scars, buck teeth, and she was wearing a scruffy pink jacket with jeans and imitation Ugg boots. Stirring a beaker of tea with a plastic spoon, she glanced up at Anna as she was introduced. McBride hovered for a few moments before leaving the interview room.
‘Is this sugar or salt? I’ve not got ma glasses.’
Anna picked up the white packet and said that it was sugar. She tore off the top and passed it to Eileen.
‘Ta.’
‘Thank you for agreeing to talk to me.’
‘I hadda an option, did eh?’
‘May I call you Eileen?’
‘If ye wannae, it’s ma name.’
‘First off, I want you to understand that I am not here in any connection to Mr McAleese. It is concerning your ex-husband Henry, and if it’s okay with you I’d like to tape our conversation so I can write up my notes when I get back to London.’
Anna placed her Dictaphone on the table.
‘Nae problem, hen, but I cannae help, I’ve not seen him for years, not that ah would wannae see him. Day I moved back here was the best thing I’ve done. I shouldae done it before, but with two bairns, I was dependent on ma mother to help me out, which God bless her she did.’
Eileen sipped her tea, sucking her lips together.
‘It must have been hard bringing up two girls on your own,’ Anna suggested.
‘Tell me about it. I had one fuckin’ run off from rehab and t’other’s pregnant. It’s a vicious circle tryin’ to keep ’em on the straight and narrow. I think Corinna’s problems come from that bastard. Told her I slept about and he wasnae her real father and on top of that if he wasnae knocking me around wanting sex he was after her.’
‘You mean sexually?’
‘Aye. I caught him in her bedroom, she was only ten. I took a broom and belted him. After that I’d had enough so I packed a few bags and while he was out I took what I could and left with the girls.’
‘Did he try to get you back?’
‘Nae, I said I’d report him tae the polis. For all his fists and loud mouth, he was scared they’d arrest him. He was also, believe it or not, ashamed about trying it on with his own daughter, blubbering that he was drunk and got intae the wrong bed.’
‘Was that the last time you saw him?’
‘It was, aye, he did try, but I wouldnae even speak to him. Couple of years later he sent some presents one Christmas for the girls, but it was just the once. We’ve moved a few times so he had nae forwarding address.’
‘But you must have made contact when you filed for divorce?’
She shook her head and said the solicitors had handled the papers. Eileen then tapped the table with her finger.
‘Not a penny because he was unemployed and had nae income. I got sweet F-all, but at least it meant he couldnae find us. Is that why you’re here, is he trying tae see us?’
‘No, I’m here in connection with a murder your ex-husband has been arrested for and charged with.’
‘Well, not before time. He shoulda been banged up years ago for what he did to me, never mind his own daughter. We’d not have had food on the table if I hadnae . . . it was him that put me on the game.’
Anna listened as Eileen went into a lengthy excuse as to why she had been charged with prostitution, and the more she talked the angrier she became, constantly slapping the table with the flat of her hand.
‘I’ve worked as a shop assistant, shelf filler, cleaner, but I never did it again. Now I’ve got a steady job in a drycleaner’s and part-time in a bar. Bein’ brought in an’ out of this place is doin’ ma heid in, I could lose my jobs. So if you’re finished with me, can I go?’
Anna opened her briefcase. ‘This shouldn’t take long, Eileen, but I need your help. You see, your husband also claimed that he had been involved in two other murders.’
‘I wouldnae know about anythin’ he done. Like I told you, I’ve not seen him for over eight years.’
Anna took a photograph of Rebekka Jordan out from her file. ‘One of the possible victims is this little girl, missing for five years. When your husband was arrested for the—’ Anna was interrupted.
‘He killed that wee bairn? Is that what he’s been arrested for?’
‘No, another woman, but he claimed he had killed this child. Her name is Rebekka Jordan. But he then retracted his statement, denying that he had admitted having anything to do with her disappearance.’
‘She’s just a wee child.’
Eileen looked at the photograph of Rebekka, shaking her head and sucking in her lips.
Anna explained that Rebekka had last been seen leaving a stable yard in Shepherd’s Bush. She asked if Oates had ever worked in that area.
‘I wouldnae know. He did odd jobs, but I cannae remember if he was workin’ there. I don’t even know where he lives now. When I left him we had a place in Brixton, but I know the solicitors for the divorce had a hard time tracing him to sign the papers as he wasnae living there. He used to move into squats, never had any money.’
‘You said previously that he had assaulted your eldest daughter. Do you know if he had ever had sexual contacts with other young girls?’
‘When he was drunk he’d have sex with a dog. He was a perverted bastard, but I wouldnae know if he had other wee girls.’
‘Tell me about when you went to London and met him.’
She said that she was sixteen when she left home in Glasgow due to a drunken and abusive father. Her mother had arranged for a friend’s family, who lived in East London, to take her in and they had a daughter, Anne, who was the same age as her. Anne’s father, who had recently died of cancer, had been an amateur boxing promoter and not long after she had arrived in London they all went to a boxing match at York Hall in Bethnal Green. This was where she first met Henry Oates, who had fought in one of the bouts that evening. Henry had invited her out for a drink and she liked him and they started a relationship shortly after they first met and he was always very protective of her. She had believed, like Henry, that he was going to become a successful professional boxer. They’d being going out for just over a year when Eileen fell pregnant with Corinna, so they married before her birth. Eileen took out a crumpled tissue from her pocket, her eyes brimming with tears.
‘His boxing career didnae take off so he tried tae get into the Army, you know, get permanent work. It seemed like he’d only just got kitted out with his uniform when they threw him out.’
‘Why was that?’
‘Said something about him being unsuitable. Knowing him, he probably got inta a fight.’
‘Carry on, tell me more about Henry.’
‘After that he took odd jobs, but we were always short of money and we moved from one dump tae another. He’d even started tae think Corinna wasn’t his . . .’
‘Sorry, can I ask why he thought Corinna wasn’t his?’
‘When she was born she had darkish skin. As she grew, her hair was matt black and tight curls, started wearing it like them Jamaicans do when she got in her teens. He was convinced she wasn’t his. I told him ma grandmother’s hair and skin was like that but he just wouldnae believe me. Said I’d tricked him intae marriage over Corinna and then when I was expecting Megan he thought I just wanted tae keep hold of him by getting pregnant again.’
She wiped her eyes and blew her nose.
‘Just thinking about it makes me upset. It was as if he blamed me for everything that went wrong. All those wasted years, being knocked around, trying to make ends meet. I went out working the streets at night, while he was supposed to be at home looking after the girls, but I’d come home and he’d have been out drinking, leaving them on their own.’
Anna put out her hand to reach for Eileen’s and she gripped it tightly.
‘You did what you had to do, Eileen, and you brought them here to Glasgow away from him. I admire you. It must have taken a lot of guts; it’s always hard for a woman who is abused to have the strength to get out of—’
‘Vicious fucking circle, that’s what it was. It’s not got better.’ Eileen started to cry in earnest. ‘Now after all I done, I’ve got a heroin addict on the run from rehab and the other bairn’s got herself pregnant. She’s just sixteen, a boy from off the estate. And I’m nae better; I’ve gone from one bad’un to another. Take a look at this . . .’
Eileen pulled open her jacket and drew down the top of her sweater. She had a massive dark blue-black bruise in the centre of her chest and red marks around her throat.
‘Oh Eileen, I am so sorry. Is that from McAleese?’
‘You know he’s got form for violence?’
Anna nodded, by now wondering if there was any point in continuing to question Eileen. As there had been no contact with Henry Oates for so long she doubted if she could gather anything more than that he’d been a despicable human being from way back. Eileen meanwhile pulled her sweater back up to her neck and then closed her pink jacket.
‘You know I said I had no connection to why you have been brought here to the station for questioning, and I don’t. I asked to meet you because I am trying to find out what happened to Rebekka Jordan and if your ex-husband killed her as he claims. I doubt that you can help me, but I want to help you. Eileen, you have to be strong and if you are being abused again and forced into assisting Mr McAleese, you can get protection. If necessary you can be placed in a witness protection programme that will take care of you, move you and your daughters to a safe place.’
Eileen had her hands clenched together, twisting the tissue round and round. Her voice was hardly audible.
‘He’ll kill me.’
‘You will never be free of him if you don’t accept help. Remember how you felt when you took control of your life and left London.’
‘You’re right. I’ve had enough shit shovelled over me.’
Eileen lifted her hand, opening and closing her mouth. ‘I’ve just remembered something . . . oh my God . . . yes!’
Eileen touched the photograph of Rebekka Jordan still left on the table between them. She half rose from the table and then sat down again.
‘That last time he called me it caught me by surprise; it was very late at night. Oh Gawd, it’s got to be five years ago, more even, maybe six, but you said something about the wee girl worked at a stables?’
Anna felt her body tense. She didn’t correct Eileen that Rebekka didn’t work at the stables, but had been taking riding lessons.
‘I’ve just remembered what he said to me. We hadnae said two words before we started arguing. I called him a layabout, something like that, and he . . . Oh Gawd almighty . . . let me get this right . . .’
Anna waited as Eileen licked her buck teeth, running the tip of her tongue round her lips.
‘Okay, this is how it went doon. I think he started callin’ me a whore and I said to him that he was nothing but a layabout who never earned a penny, that’s when he mentioned he had a job. I called him a liar again and he got really mad, screaming at me that he was working in a stables shovelling shit. I think he said stables, but that would be the only place, shit from the horses, am I right?’
She gave Anna a smile. It altered her whole drawn face.
‘Have I helped ye?’
‘Yes you have. One more thing, Eileen: do you know if he owned a car around this time?’
‘Nae, he could never afford tae pay for one. We never had so much as a bicycle between us.’
‘When he did these odd jobs did he have access to vehicles?’ Anna asked.
‘I dunno. I dunno if he even had a driving licence. Is there any chance I can nip out to the car park for a fag and a coffee?’
‘Sure, I’ll ask an officer to get you a coffee.’
While Eileen was out having a cigarette break Anna took the opportunity to go over what she had recorded on her Dictaphone. She listened intently to the last part of their conversation and in particular where Eileen had mentioned that Oates said he was working in a stables and she wondered if this could be the connection to Rebekka Jordan that she was looking for. She wrote in her notebook to make further enquiries at the stable about employees who had worked there for at least a year before Rebekka went missing.
Eileen was brought back to the interview room by a uniform officer.
‘You okay to carry on? There are just a few more things I need to ask you,’ Anna said.
‘I’ve been thinking about what ye said about being free of McAleese. I don’t want tae lie for him any more but I’m scared of what he’ll do tae me.’
‘So you lied about him being with you when the armed robbery happened?’
‘Aye, but he said he’d shoot me through the heid as well if I didnae give him an alibi.’
‘I understand, but you need to tell DCI McBride what happened. It’s his investigation, not mine, and I have to return to London,’ Anna said sympathetically.
‘Can ye not stay with me, make McBride give me the protection ye said I could have, because if he doesnae I’m terrified he’ll kill me or hurt ma daughters,’ Eileen said as she clung to Anna’s hand.
‘I’ll talk to McBride for you, Eileen, but you should ask for a solicitor to be present. They will provide you with one.’
Eileen sighed and then blew her nose.
‘Ye know, with Henry I put up with a lot more. I did it because at the start I used tae feel sorry for him. He’d had a terrible upbringing, do ye know about it?’
‘No, but I am interested and it could help me with the investigation.’
Eileen explained that Henry’s mother had been a junkie on the game and Social Services had taken him from her when he was about eighteen months old. They found him left in a dump of a place; he’d not been fed and was filthy, then he was put into care. Eventually his mother got him back, not because she loved him but because she wanted the child benefit for drugs. Henry was around five years old, and she and her punters started knocking him about so they took him off her again when he was eight and he went back in a care home.
‘He told me he used tae always fight with other kids but it always ended up with the staff giving him a good beating. Anyways, he run off when he was just a teenager and got tae London, started to work for some old bloke that was an ex-boxer and he took it up, he was like a sort of mentor tae him.’
‘Where was the boxing club?’
‘Bethnal Green, near the York Hall where they have all the fights. The old boy trained him and everythin’ and he started out as an amateur. He was good, ye know, had a lot of potential. This old guy raised money for a club tour to America and wanted tae take Henry, but he needed his birth certificate tae get a passport. He tracked his mother down tae Liverpool and went tae see her. She was still using drugs and on the game . . .’
Eileen sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. She told Anna that Henry never had a proper father and when he tracked his mother down he asked her about him and she told him that she never knew who it was and didn’t care either but it had to have been some waster as that was the only blokes she’d ever known, wasters that she went with to get a fix.
‘Did he go to the States?’
‘Nae. The rest of ’em did, though, and while they were there the old boy snuffed it, had a massive heart attack. It really hurt Henry, he’d become like a dad tae him, even let him live with him, but when he died his missus kicked him out. He carried on boxing, but I think that was because being in the ring made him feel better about himself and the club was the only place he had any friends. That was all just before I met him. So you see, I used tae feel sorry for him cos he’d never really had nobody . . . turns out he was like what his mum said, a waster. I know I wasted years on him.’
McBride was taken aback when Anna joined him in the incident room and announced that she would be leaving in time to catch an earlier train back to London.
‘Did you get anything out of her for your case?’
‘Not much, however . . .I think she will give up McAleese, but she is very frightened. She’s been beaten up. I think she will talk if she gets protection. Can you arrange that?’
‘It depends . . .’
‘He threatened to kill her. Take a look at the bruise on her chest, and she’s got a pregnant teenage daughter, she’s scared for her as well. Eileen Oates is an abused woman, but taking her back over her abusive past with Henry Oates I think made her aware that she was in the same old situation. She’s scared McAleese will kill her. If you offer her witness protection I think she’ll make a statement against him.’
‘I’ll get a car arranged to take you to the station.’
‘Thank you.’ Anna was slightly taken aback by his abruptness.
McBride cocked his head to one side and gave a small tight-lipped smile. ‘Thank you.’
As the train sped her back to London Anna once again sifted through the file on Rebekka Jordan. All the current employees at the stables had been questioned five years ago and all their names and addresses were listed. On top of these were the part-time workers and Saturday morning stable hands and trainees. Henry Oates’s name did not appear, but after her conversation with Eileen, she would now have to talk to the owners to take them back at least a year before Rebekka went missing. She sat back in her seat and closed her eyes. She thought about Eileen Oates. She was a sad creature, like a wounded animal incapable of any self-esteem. She opened her eyes and made a note to check if they could trace any known associates of Oates from his boxing days as he might still have kept up with them.
Back in Hackney, Barbara and Joan had been busy compiling the statements gathered from people who had last seen Fidelis Julia Flynn. The flatmates had been able to give a clear picture of the evening she left, the last time they had seen her. She had given no indication that she was meeting anyone. Although all Fidelis’s landline and mobile phone calls had been checked at the time she was reported missing Mike had instructed Barbara to go over them again. Her flatmates had brought in their old BT telephone bill, which they had kept because Fidelis had made a number of calls and had not paid for them. These were all highlighted in pink and indicated that she kept in touch with her parents in Dublin on a regular basis. The other numbers were for a hairdressing salon, a local cinema and the garage where she had worked. A number that had been called on several occasions from her mobile had turned out to be to an unregistered pay-as-you-go phone, which to date had not been traced. Mr and Mrs Flynn had sent more photographs of their daughter, taken in Dublin shortly before she came to London. Barolli had looked through the suitcases and a zip-up bag which contained make-up, a sponge bag, clothes, shoes, handbags and a purse that had two twenty-pound notes in and some change. There was no diary, no notebook, and searching the pockets of the handbags he had found nothing but a couple of old crumpled receipts and a used lipstick.
Anna had fallen asleep on the train and woke with a jolt as her mobile rang. It was Langton, impatient to know if there were any developments from Glasgow, but her phone repeatedly cut out and so he suggested she came over to his flat straight from the station. As she had already told him that Oates might have worked at the stables and that this was basically the only new information, she was loath to see him because she knew he would grill her on every part of her interview with Eileen. She received two text messages from him, the first asking her to pick up some milk, bread and eggs and the second to also buy a bottle of vodka.
By the time the train arrived back at Euston it was early evening, so Anna bought the groceries from the first shop she saw in the station and caught a taxi to Maida Vale. She stopped in Floral Street not far from Warrington Crescent where Langton lived and from an off-licence bought him his vodka. After keeping her waiting on the doorstep for five minutes, Langton buzzed her in; when she reached the front door of the flat it was ajar. Someone had obviously cleared up as the main room was tidier than when she had been there previously. Placing the groceries and vodka in the kitchen, which was also clear of dirty dishes, she called out, asking if he wanted her to make a coffee or tea.
‘Just bring in the vodka and some ice,’ he called back.
Anna opened the fridge, which she was pleased to see contained some bacon, lettuce, a cooked chicken and what looked like a dish of fried rice. She found where the glasses were kept, filled one with ice and went into the bedroom. He was propped up on pillows with his leg stretched out on a square cushion from the sofa, and he was unshaven, wearing the same old dressing gown with a T-shirt beneath it and pyjama bottoms with one leg cut out for the plaster cast.
‘You having one?’
‘No. I only had a sandwich on the train so I won’t stay long as I’m tired out. I didn’t sleep on the way there. The sleeper is comfortable but the rhythm of the train kept on changing and—’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ he interrupted, unscrewing the top from the bottle of vodka. ‘So take me through it all. What is she like, for starters?’
Anna drew up a chair and opened her briefcase to take out her notebook as she described Eileen. He listened without interruption, sipping his vodka with the ice clinking in his glass. She explained how the most important information came up, the stable connection, that Oates could have worked there and met Rebekka up to a year before she went missing, but she obviously had not had time to check it out. She added that she wanted to check out the boxing background to see if Henry Oates was still friends with anyone connected to the club, and that she had asked Joan to see if Oates had ever held a driving licence or owned a vehicle.
‘If he kidnapped or snatched Rebekka off the street, he must have been driving something,’ Anna pointed out.
Langton drained his glass and topped it up again before replying. ‘He could have stolen a vehicle . . .’
‘Or if he was working odd jobs there’s a possibility he might have had access to a vehicle,’ Anna suggested.
‘Shovelling shit,’ he muttered.
She closed her notebook.
‘That’s it then, is it?’ he asked.
‘Fraid so. Do you want me to fix you a sandwich or something? I see there are some groceries in the fridge apart from what I brought.’
‘Nah, I’ll get something later.’
‘I don’t mind.’
‘I don’t want a fucking sandwich, all right?’
‘Fine. I’m going to take off home, it’s been a long day.’ He reached out for her hand. ‘Sorry. Thank you, but I’m not hungry. Why don’t you make yourself something to eat?’
‘No, I’ll get back home, have a shower and—’
‘There’s a chicken.’
‘No, thanks. I see the flat has been tidied up.’
‘Yep, had a visit from Laura’s sister. She was not happy about the mess. Gave me a headache thudding around with the hoover and her duster, repeatedly reminding me how neat and tidy Laura and the kids are.’
He paused and sighed. ‘Christ, my Kitty’s not much younger than Rebekka was when she disappeared. Time goes fast – not for that poor little soul though. Sometimes when I look at Kitty, the way she’s growing up, I think of what it must feel like to be the Jordans; their child will never grow older, will always be exactly as she was the day they last saw her.’
‘They keep her bedroom as she left it.’
‘Yes, I know.’
She leaned forward and kissed his cheek.
‘I’m going off home now. Are you sure I can’t get you anything to eat?’
‘Nope. I’m fine. My wallet’s on the table over there so take whatever I owe you for the groceries and this.’ He picked up the bottle of vodka and topped up his glass yet again.
‘On me, and maybe ease off on the vodka if you’re taking painkillers,’ Anna suggested cheerfully.
‘Go on, get out, you sound like my wife.’
Anna was surprised. He had never, as far as she could recall, ever called Laura his wife, which of course she was.
She put on her coat, eager to leave, and, picking up her briefcase, she couldn’t resist throwing a little dig.
‘Well I’m glad she’s looking after you.’
‘Get the money I owe you, Travis, or I won’t be able to tap you for doing anything else for me.’
Anna crossed to the living-room dining table and picked up his wallet. It was well-used, worn leather. Inside on one half were credit cards and on the other side a flap with photographs of his children Kitty and Tommy. She took out a twenty-pound note and was replacing the wallet when she noticed that beneath the table was the doll’s house. When she had last been at the flat it had been open; but now it was shut and she could recognize the exterior.
‘Good heavens. I hadn’t noticed that this is a replica of the Jordans’ own house.’
‘Yeah, Stephen made it. Kitty isn’t interested in it any more. Laura’s sister put it under there. I dunno what to do with it. I can’t throw it out.’
Anna bent down, drawing the doll’s house further out from beneath the table. It was exceptionally well made and beautifully painted. The front door and porch area with its two tiny pots of plastic flowers were just like those of the Jordans’ house in Hammersmith. She eased it further round to see the back of the house.
‘It was made before the extension,’ Langton said.
Anna leaned forwards on her hands and knees. There was some kind of a back garden attached to the house. A tiny swing was still upright, there was a mock crazy-paved patio made of small cut-out cork squares and close to the back door was a broken tree and some small squashed shrubs made of Plasticine. There were marks where there had been a fence and a hand-painted brick wall was still partly upright, the paper torn.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Just looking at how well constructed this is, but I can see from the kitchen that as you say it was crafted before they extended the house. There’s no Aga cooker and it’s now all white with painted floorboards. This must have taken hours of work. Have you seen the little stools and tables? Perfect.’
She closed the doll’s house and stood up, linking the hooks to fasten it shut. Beside the house was a plastic bag containing more furniture and some tiny dolls.
‘I’m going,’ said Anna.
‘Talk tomorrow.’
‘Yes, I’ll call you.’
As she left she could hear him switching on his television. She let herself out and closed the front door. Heading down the stairs, not paying attention, she almost tripped on the frayed carpet.
There was something about the doll’s house that stayed in her mind, but she put it to one side because as she stepped out of the house the rain was lashing down. She ran along Warrington Crescent to Maida Vale Tube Station, and then endured an uncomfortable ride to Tower Bridge, having to switch Tube lines, and did not get home until after ten.
Her coat was still sodden from the rain so she hung it over the heated towel rail in her bathroom before having a shower.
Anna’s own fridge was virtually empty. She sighed, knowing she should have bought some groceries for herself, never mind Langton. She made some beans on toast and a mug of tea, taking them on a tray to eat in her bedroom. Her initial nagging thoughts about the doll’s house returned. Putting down the tray on the floor beside the bed, she reached for her briefcase and took out her notebook. She flicked back a few pages, but nothing triggered a response until she got to the name Andrew Markham, the tree surgeon used by the builders for the Jordans’ extension. She got off her bed and turned on her computer. Andrew Markham had a very professional website describing his company, with landscaping and tree surgeon qualifications alongside pictures of gardens he had designed in the past few years. She knew he was away until the end of the week, but from the website she was sure he would have other employees she could talk to.
Still unable to stop her mind churning, she opened her bedside table and searched for a pencil. If the doll’s house represented how the Jordans’ property had looked before the extension, there had to have been a considerable amount of earth removed to be able to lay down the new foundations. She recalled one of the Henderson brothers saying there had been a sixty-year-old tree that needed to be removed, as well as shrubs, a fence and brick wall. It seemed to Anna that there must have been a lot of work for one landscape gardener to complete on his own. She wondered if Andrew Markham might have used cash-in-hand labour to remove the debris from the Jordans’ back garden. Still unable to switch off, she sat on the edge of her bed, checking the files to see if Andrew Markham had made a statement or had even been interviewed. There was no reference to him; perhaps due to the fact the work had taken place so long before Rebekka went missing. Had Langton, unaware of the ground clearance work, missed the possibility that Andrew Markham could also be a suspect? She wrote his name in her notebook, underlining the importance of talking to him as soon as she could.
By the time she turned off her bedside light it was after midnight, but it still took her half an hour to eventually fall asleep.