Above Suspicion (Anna Travis Mysteries Book 1)

by Lynda La Plante

  “Do you think you’ll get something?”

  “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

  He looked at his watch. It was almost twelve. He gave her his mobile phone number and asked her to contact him as soon as there was a result. Then he went to Scotland Yard to discuss the surveillance and report to the commander on the new developments.

  Steering the commander into orchestrating a round-the-clock team had taken some persuasion, especially with two officers already outside Alan Daniels’s home. Langton’s request for officers in two locations, the Opera House and the Ivy, resulted in a heated argument that he had won. Alan Daniels’s tickets were in the front row of the dress circle, which made them among the best seats in the house. All the seats close to them were sold so it was arranged instead that two female officers should act as ushers.

  While the Ivy did not have a table available at short notice, there were always a lot of paparazzi waiting outside the fashionable restaurant to photograph stars coming and going. Two officers were put in place to act as photographers, another two would tail the couple on foot and there was a backup car on standby.

  Instead of a depleted team, Langton now had a full deck. There would be undercover officers positioned at every exit of the Opera House and the Ivy. The cost was astronomical, as the commander took care to point out, but she had given way on everything. The murder that had occurred when Langton and Travis were overseas had unnerved her. Though a different suspect had been apprehended, the fact that there was a serial killer on the loose and the probability of another murder soon had finally hit home. So had Michael Parks’s report; not only had he predicted more murders, but he had also supported the theory that Alan Daniels was their serial killer.

  Langton relayed the latest information to the team. He had received a call from the forensic scientist about the photo frame. She had two clear prints that had already been run through the database. The results were nil. The intruder had no police record. Langton listed the details of the surveillance team and where they would be located. This, Anna knew, he was directing at her, to boost her confidence.

  After the briefing, he gave her one last opportunity to pull out. To his relief, she refused again, earning his admiration for the way she was handling herself. She was even coming into the station the following morning to work, though she consented to take the afternoon off to get her hair done at departmental expense.

  At home that evening, Anna stared at a bed strewn with discarded clothes and thought, ruefully, that her indecision about what to wear to the ballet had at least made the time fly. She finally decided to wear a cream sheath dress and carry a cashmere wrap. Then it was back to the wardrobe to dig around for the matching shoes she was once sure she had. When she couldn’t find them she sat back on her heels, crying with frustration.

  She took a deep breath to get hold of herself. Her nerves were raw. There would be ample time to buy a new pair of shoes when she went to the hairdresser the next afternoon. She told herself firmly to stop getting into such a state. From her top drawer, she took out a small evening bag, decorated with seed pearls. She opened it carefully: she could smell her mother’s perfume.

  She took out the letter she had found inside the photo frame and reread it. As she sat with the bag in her lap, tears welled up in her eyes as she remembered how, after her mother died, she had found this very bag, which had contained her mother’s makeup. She had sat down at her mother’s dressing table and opened the lipstick. It was a pale coral color. She had applied the lipstick molded by her mother’s mouth. It felt like a last kiss good-bye.

  Thinking about her mother’s warm smile made her cry. Afterward she felt calmer, as she thought about the evening she would spend with Daniels. She selected various items to put into the pearl bag. How good that it had been Isabelle’s. She slipped in a pair of her father’s cufflinks as well. Now her parents’ love would surround her and between the two of them, she felt she would be protected from evil.

  Thursday was rainy and time dragged by in the incident room. Anna kept tapping her watch, thinking it must have stopped. Finally, two o’clock came. She knocked, then put her head around Langton’s door.

  “I’m off now.”

  “OK,” he said casually.

  “So, see you in the morning?”

  “You’ll see me before then,” he said, pulling a notepad out of his desk drawer. “I’ll be at your place to see you kitted out.”

  “Oh, will you?”

  He started writing. “I’ll also be waiting for you to come home.”

  “Oh. See you later, then.”

  “Yep, see you later.”

  He didn’t look up when she left. Not until the door closed did he chuck the pen aside. He’d been watching her through his office blinds. The funny little carrottop was getting to him. He hadn’t felt protective about anyone for a long time. He was certain there was no possibility of it developing into anything other than a friendship. Anna was not, in any way, his type. In fact, he didn’t even find her attractive. But there were good reasons to feel protective.

  Once Anna had left the station, Langton came out of the incident room to have a quiet word with his team. He said that if the fingerprints found in Anna’s flat turned out to be Daniels’s, he would arrest him straightaway. He was not prepared to let her take any unnecessary risks.

  Lewis put his head to one side. “It’s not that much of a risk, with her covered on all sides.”

  “Well, tonight I’m going to check out her security personally. If it turns out he’s been inside her flat then she’s a target.”

  A few looks were exchanged but no one said anything. Involuntarily, their gazes returned to the notice board, where the row of dead women’s faces now included the victims from the U.S. Anna Travis had gone up another notch in their admiration. They were all hoping no harm could possibly come to her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Anna wore a plastic shower cap to protect her hair and keep it straight. Her new, rather boyish cut was modern, almost punkish, and the highlights made her thick red hair seem lighter; it suited her.

  A new pair of cream high-heeled sandals matched her dress perfectly. It was five o’clock when the doorbell rang. She was sitting at her dressing table, wrapped in a kimono and applying her makeup. When she opened the door, Langton grinned, indicating her shower cap.

  “Very flattering,” he said, walking in.

  She only now realized she still had the shower cap on.

  “It stops the steam from the bath making my hair curl.”

  “You carry on with what you were doing. I’ll make myself at home.”

  “Help yourself to coffee,” she said, closing her bedroom door. She could hear him clattering around in her kitchen.

  “Do you want one?” he yelled through the wall.

  “No, thank you.” She had pulled off the shower cap and ran her fingers through her hair as the hairdresser had demonstrated. It fell into place perfectly and it was still straight!

  Langton checked the windows in the kitchen, then moved silently round the neat flat. He checked the rest of the windows and the locks on the front door. He had surveyed the exterior of the building on arrival, noting that he was not stopped by anyone. He had in fact seen only one resident, who was walking out of the garage and showed no curiosity about him whatsoever. If Daniels had slipped inside Anna’s flat, then he had probably taken the opportunity when she left her front door ajar.

  Langton walked upstairs and then down, noting there was a lift. If Anna was walking down the stairs and Daniels had used the lift, they could easily have missed each other. There was no one in the communal reception area when Langton checked; no sign of a porter, for instance. He walked out to the rear entrance where the dustbins were kept and looked over the small fenced yard. A narrow alleyway led from the street for the rubbish to be collected. It had taken him only a few minutes to move down the stairs from her second-floor flat out to the yard and another couple of minutes b
ack up to her flat.

  He explored the tenants’ garage. It was well lit, with residents’ names and their apartment numbers on small plaques. But if the garage doors were open, as they were now, anyone could walk in off the street and enter the building on the ground floor. He noticed that the door from the garage to the reception was unlocked. Anna’s Mini was parked in her space; the others were empty.

  Langton felt sure that if Daniels had entered Travis’s flat, it had been an opportunist entry, not a break-in. He went back in the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. He opened a tin of biscuits and sat on a stool by the counter, reading his newspaper. There was a delicious gust of perfume. He looked up. There she stood, in the doorway.

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  He gave her the once-over. “Very nice.” Actually he was struck by how almost virginal she looked in her simple dress. Her new shoes, with their high heels, made her look much more slender than usual. He didn’t say any of that, though, just commented, “Won’t you get cold in just that?”

  “I’ve got a cashmere stole.”

  “Good. You look very good.”

  He checked the time: twenty past six. “Have you had anything to eat? You’ll have a long wait until dinner.”

  “I’m not feeling very hungry.”

  “Well, don’t drink on an empty stomach.” He started munching a biscuit.

  “You sound just like my dad.” She turned back to the bedroom and smiled at him over her shoulder.

  Langton didn’t feel like her father, anything but. She had knocked him sideways, she looked so lovely. His mobile phone rang at that moment. He patted his pocket and pulled it out. When he walked into the bedroom to relay the news, Anna was sitting at the dressing table.

  “He’s just left Queen’s Gate. He’s in a chauffeur-driven black Mercedes-Benz with blacked-out windows. It’s a hire car from a Knightsbridge company.”

  “We didn’t expect that,” she said.

  “It means he could grope you in the backseat.”

  “Oh, please,” she said.

  “I’ll go and turn off the lights in the kitchen and drawing room. By the way, did you realize the garage doors were open? Are they usually left open?”

  “Sometimes, if one of the residents forgets their keys, but usually it’s locked at night.”

  Langton sat in the darkened drawing room, while Anna stayed in the bedroom. She heard his mobile ring, then Langton was standing at the bedroom door.

  “The car’s pulling up outside.”

  She threw her cashmere wrap around her shoulders and picked up her evening bag. Langton was still on the phone. “He’s sent the chauffeur in to fetch you.”

  When the doorbell rang, Anna opened the door. The driver made a very courteous bow and informed her that Mr. Daniels was waiting in the car. As she followed him, Langton watched from the kitchen window at the front of the building. It was still daylight.

  He saw Daniels step out from the rear of the Mercedes. The chauffeur held the door open for Anna; Daniels got in beside her.

  His mobile rang again.

  “They’re on their way,” said the voice of a surveillance officer from the car tailing the Mercedes.

  “Yes, I know.”

  He sat in her drawing room facing the backyard and switched on the television. It was going to be a long wait.

  Inside the Mercedes, Daniels’s head rested against the window.

  “You look charming,” he said softly.

  “Thank you,” Anna responded. “It took me a while to decide what to wear. I’m not used to such glamorous events.”

  He gave no reaction, and remembering Michael Parks’s advice, she flattered him. “That is a very elegant suit! Where did you get it?”

  He had on an immaculate velvet jacket, trimmed with satin, and a white silk polo-necked shirt. The matching trousers were pressed like a knife, with an inch-wide satin border down the outside.

  “It was made by Valentino. I wore it in a film and so I got it at a quarter of the price I would have had to pay if I’d bought it in a shop.”

  “It really suits you! And that shirt is gorgeous.”

  “Thank you. Valentino insisted I have the roll neck, not a black bow tie. It’s the purest silk. But look at these.” He held out his cuffs. “Bit ostentatious, aren’t they?” For the first time she noticed the emerald cufflinks.

  “But—they’re real emeralds!”

  “They were from a necklace worn by Empress Josephine. And those are rose diamonds around them.”

  “Good heavens.”

  “So, did you have any trouble leaving work early?”

  “No. I said it was a family matter.”

  “You told a fib, then, did you?”

  She laughed. “It’s just that I didn’t think they would approve of me seeing you socially.”

  “But surely, I am not still suspected of having anything to do with the—what was her name?”

  “Melissa Stephens?”

  “Ah yes, the Melissa Stephens murder.” He scrutinized her. “Am I?”

  “A suspect?”

  “Yes.”

  She smiled. “I doubt it, but at the same time, the fact you’ve been questioned means it’s not entirely appropriate for us to be seen together.”

  “Then I’m surprised you agreed to accompany me.”

  She turned away, feigning embarrassment.

  “Why did you?” He moved closer.

  “I am a big fan of the ballet, Mr. Daniels. I couldn’t say no. I have been looking forward to this evening so much.”

  “It’s Alan, for God’s sake,” he teased. He took out his phone. “Excuse me. It’s on silent. If you have your mobile with you, remember to turn it off during the performance.”

  “It wouldn’t fit in my bag.” She held up her mother’s small evening bag, but he was listening on his mobile. She was relieved that Langton had turned down her request for a hidden camera. Daniels would have figured it out very fast.

  He sighed irritatedly into the phone. “Look, this is all getting out of hand. What I said was I didn’t feel like taking an entire day to have a costume-fitting in Paris; it doesn’t matter whether it’s Eurostar or a private plane.” He covered the phone and whispered to Anna, “Sorry about this. I wouldn’t mind, but it’s just a test. I suggested that they bring the wig to London. I could have a fitting here and that would mean I have only one trip to Paris instead of two.”

  He returned to the call. “Yes, I am interested in working with him and yes, tell him I like the script.” He leaned back in irritation. “Just talk to them again and get back to me. It really isn’t convenient right now; I’m on my way to the ballet.”

  He replaced the phone in his pocket. “That was my agent. Ye gods! It’s such a simple thing. Why they can’t send the wig and hair and makeup over here is beyond me.”

  The driver turned around. “Excuse me, sir. There seems to be a backup of vehicles for the Opera House. Should I join the queue, or do you want me to drop you off?”

  “Drop me off?” Daniels repeated. “I don’t think so! We’ll wait in line. This is a very special evening for Miss Travis and myself. Besides, we have time.”

  The line of cars crawled toward the Opera House. Crowds of people were standing on the pavement and a red carpet ran downward from the entrance. Anna turned to him.

  “I don’t mind walking.”

  “I do!” Daniels retorted huffily.

  They sat in silence as the Mercedes inched toward the Opera House. When it drew up beside the red carpet, Daniels instructed the driver, “You’ll have to get out and open the door. They won’t have flunkies here.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The driver hurried to open the passenger door and Daniels stepped out into a battery of flashlights to which he seemed oblivious. He reached for Anna’s hand and helped her from the car. He held her elbow reassuringly as she stepped onto the red carpet.

  “Mr. Daniels, can you look this way? A
lan!”

  “Right, Anna—full steam ahead,” he said gently.

  “Alan, to the right! Alan, just one for us.”

  “Do you mind? I’d better give them something,” he murmured.

  “No. Of course not.”

  He paused to smile briefly, hardly breaking his step.

  They reached the end of the red carpet. “ALAN, ALAN!” the photographers yelled out, in a final burst of frenzied flashlights. Turning round, he put his arm round Anna’s waist and murmured to her, “Last one. Smile for the camera.”

  The couple moved into the Opera House lobby, where two girls tentatively approached Daniels with autograph books. He signed graciously, but kept Anna close, his arm encircling her waist.

  “The reception’s straight up those stairs, one flight.”

  He guided her expertly through the throngs of people. Anna was quite overawed by the glamour of the Opera House scene, but Daniels seemed at ease, managing to sign two more autographs, yet all the while making progress through the crowd and into the private reception on the first floor. Though she saw him dig into his inside pocket for the invitation, they were waved through immediately.

  The men wore black tie and the women were in elegant gowns. A number of people welcomed Daniels. Whenever he was thanked for coming, he would respond: “Here’s the real reason I’m here. May I introduce you to Miss Travis? Anna adores the ballet.”

  A waiter was standing nearby with a tray of glasses of champagne. Daniels handed a glass to Anna with a flourish.

  “Thank you.” She was feeling hot in a room with so many people. She had drunk almost half the glass immediately when she noticed he was sipping iced water.

  They stood slightly to one side, looking over the throng of people. He whispered: “The charity event tonight is for Christ only knows what, either AIDS, or breast cancer, or some country overflowing with orphans. They like to wheel in the odd celebrity. There’s quite a few here, actually.” He looked over the room appraisingly.

  She was very aware of how many glances he attracted. As he put his glass down on a tray carried by a passing waiter, he picked up a fresh glass of champagne for Anna.