Blood Line

by Lynda La Plante

  She stared at him, waiting for him to say something, but he remained silent. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

  ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought up your personal life. Sometimes I forget you are who you are,’ she said quietly, avoiding eye-contact with him.

  ‘That’s okay, Anna, and I can see you’ve calmed down.’

  ‘I have, and I want this case.’

  He walked to the door and gave her a smile.

  ‘You have it. Get a team organised. I’ll forward the list of available officers and you can stay on here as it’s the same location.’

  ‘Don’t I know it. I have to schlepp all the way from my flat at Tower Bridge. I sometimes wish I’d never bought the place – not that I’ve seen that much of it, but it’s home sweet home. As you haven’t arranged the promised dinner, maybe one night I’ll have enough time to cook for you!’

  She smiled, making a joke, but he walked out closing the door quietly behind him. The fact that she had the case made her buoyant for a moment, but then she felt the shuddering panic rise and couldn’t get her breath. She broke out in a sweat, gasping before the tears welled up inside her. She rested her head in her hands. She wasn’t over losing Ken, far from it. She’d had the lengthy trial of the killer of John Smiley, and then with only a couple of weeks’ break, had taken on her last case. Almost a year had passed, but the thought of taking time out to dwell on the terrible way she had lost the future she and Ken had planned together made her fearful that she would never be able to recover.

  Langton sat in his car. It had been a while since he had felt the twist in his gut like a scorching pain. He had sometimes wondered if he had embroidered on the love he had lost, that perhaps it had not been as perfect as he made it out to be. Inside his wallet he retained the small photographs of his adopted daughter, Kitty, and his son, but he still had the worn photograph of his first wife tucked behind their innocent little faces. Even now, years later, when these moments of grief descended, he felt almost incapable of moving. He looked at his first wife’s photograph. If he closed his eyes he could hear her voice calling out to him that she would see him for dinner. He had been told she had collapsed and died four hours later, the undetected brain tumour that killed her leaving her with not a mark on her beautiful face. When he had seen her in the mortuary she looked as if she was peacefully sleeping.

  He had never known with another woman the same deep understanding they had had with each other, and that sleeping face reared up as if to eclipse anyone he felt emotionally drawn to. This combined with a sense of guilt that he could never feel the same attachment to another woman. Even though he had remarried and now had a son, sometimes when he watched his boy sleeping, he felt an overwhelming sense of loss, thinking of what it would have been like to have a child with his first wife. Thinking what it would have been like if she had lived.

  Anna had wanted from him commitment, children, and although it had been she who had instigated the end of their relationship, he had in many ways known it was never going to work. She wanted too much of him and he was incapable of giving it. His present wife was intelligent, very attractive, and had wanted stability for her daughter Kitty who adored Langton and now called him Daddy. It was almost a marriage of convenience. She had accepted what Langton could give her, and had not really contemplated having a child with him. Tommy was almost as much a surprise to her as he was to Langton. She had been sure it was the onset of the menopause, but when she discovered she was pregnant, Langton had proved to be very caring. He was a good provider, and although very much an absentee father, being so dedicated to his career, she accepted their marriage for what it was – a stable if unemotional relationship.

  Unlike Anna, Langton no longer had the release of weeping; instead he waited for the pain to subside. It was still strong, but thankfully not as frequent or as debilitating as it had been in the past. He drove off and headed to Highgate, thankful that preoccupation with work cushioned the ghost that still haunted him.

  Anna opened a bottle of wine when she got home and had two glasses before she made herself something to eat. She finished the bottle before she went to bed, and with the alcohol and the sleeping tablets she was able to get a full night’s deep sleep. She often felt slightly heavy-headed in the mornings, but black coffee heaped with sugar made her feel wired enough to face the day. She was still losing weight and she had made a rather empty promise to herself that she would start to work out, but that had not happened. The thought that she might be running on empty and that it might have repercussions hadn’t even crossed her mind. Instead, she was certain that she was dealing with losing Ken, dealing with it on her own terms.

  By the time Anna arrived at the station, Paul was already there. They had a search warrant for Tina Brooks’s flat, but before making use of it they first marked up on the incident board the case-file to date. Alan Rawlins had not been reported missing for almost two weeks after his disappearance. He was now missing for eight weeks. They had no sightings, no movement in any of his bank accounts, and no use of his credit cards. They were unsure exactly what items of clothing were missing and at first Tina had said to his father that she thought she had found his passport, but then changed it to discovering an old out-of-date one. Alan Rawlins’s current passport and toiletries were definitely missing. Anna had also requested an all ports warning to see if Alan had taken a flight, rail or ferry out of the UK, but there was no trace of this being the case. It was not to say that he hadn’t used a false identity to travel but she felt that this was unlikely.

  Anna sat on the edge of a desk looking over the details she and Paul had so far accumulated. No witness had seen Alan Rawlins for the entire period he was missing. The occupants of the block of flats had little or nothing to do with either Tina or Alan.

  The police had no note, no correspondence of any kind that gave them an indication that he had planned to disappear. The last sighting of him was therefore the day Tina collected him from his workplace at 10:30 a.m. on 15 March. He was unwell and had phoned her to ask her to pick him up and take him home. Tina stated that she had made him a cup of tea and left him to sleep off his migraine.

  Underlined on the incident board was the need to check out what medication, if any, he had at the flat, also whether or not he suffered from migraines on a frequent basis, because found in his locker at the garage was a packet of aspirins. Tina Brooks said she returned from work around 6:30 p.m. on 15 March and Alan was not at home. She could not recall if the bed had been remade, but she felt that perhaps it had been. Visits to Tina’s workplace had given no clue as to where Alan might have taken off to. Interviews with his parents and close friends had revealed no hint that he had any intention of leaving Tina. Interviews at the local gym used by both Tina and Alan, and the tenant from flat one, Michael Phillips, revealed nothing untoward, bar the fact that Tina was very flirtatious and over-friendly with a few of the members.

  They had no connecting phone calls from Tina to Michael Phillips on her landline, but the pair could have used mobile phones, and the team were still in the process of checking out the possibility that both Tina and Michael Phillips had lied.

  Paul stood beside Anna, looking over the mark-up on the board.

  ‘Not a lot really,’ he said.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Just the purchase of the bleach and the carpet stand out as being odd.’

  ‘Let’s go over there and see what we can pick up from the flat.’

  ‘I hope the new carpet’s not been laid,’ Paul said.

  ‘As it was only delivered yesterday, I doubt it.’ Anna picked up her bag and headed out. Paul was still very dubious and nowhere near as certain as Anna that they were now looking for a victim.

  Anna was driving as Paul was on the mobile to Tina Brooks. He was very polite, asking if it was possible for her to be at the flat to allow them to enter; if not, they could under the warrant force entry to instigate the search. She was very rude and said that she would hav
e to return from her salon as she was at work.

  ‘We really appreciate it, Miss Brooks.’

  Anna glanced at him and he shrugged.

  ‘She’s got a mouth on her, but she didn’t seem all that worried about the search warrant.’

  ‘Didn’t she even ask why?’

  ‘Nope, just said that it was bloody inconvenient.’

  Tina remained belligerent as she let them into the flat.

  ‘Why do you have to search the place? You’ve already been over it once!’

  ‘I’m afraid we are considering that Alan Rawlins may be dead so we would like to do a thorough search.’

  ‘Well, get on with it, but I can’t stay long.’

  ‘Thank you for your cooperation. When we were last here, the caretaker said you were expecting some new carpet to be delivered.’

  ‘Yes, it’s in the living room.’

  Anna glanced at Paul. This was good. She asked why the carpet was being replaced and Tina rolled her eyes.

  ‘I am sick to death of this beige colour. It also marks easily so I decided weeks ago to get some new carpet with a bit more colour, but it had to be beige again because it’s in the bloody lease. Anyway, I am not going to stay on here longer than I have to, as it has sad memories.’

  ‘We will try not to inconvenience you more than is necessary,’ Paul said as Anna headed into the lounge. The new carpet was rolled up and left against the wall. There were a few stains around the coffee table, but they were not very noticeable. Together she and Paul moved around the room, opening drawers and cupboards. Tina was in the kitchen and occasionally walked in to stand in the doorway watching them.

  ‘Did Alan have any medication for migraines?’

  ‘No. He would just use paracetamol or codeine tablets.’

  ‘Did he often have these headaches?’

  ‘They went if he had a good sleep. I’d draw the curtains, make the room dark and that was about it really.’ She returned to the kitchen.

  There appeared to be nothing out of the ordinary in the lounge, not until Paul moved the sofa aside to look beneath it.

  ‘Anna, come here.’

  She joined him and he shoved the sofa even further away. There was a large piece of carpet missing which had clearly been neatly cut out, measuring about two feet by two. The dark black underlay was still in situ.

  ‘Miss Brooks – Tina – could you come in here for a moment, please?’ Anna called.

  Tina came to the doorway.

  ‘Can you explain why there is a large piece of carpet cut out from here?’

  ‘Yes, I can. The sofa used to be against that wall.’ She gestured across the room. ‘Alan spilled a bottle of red wine and he couldn’t get the stain out. He must have cut it out, I think.’

  She pointed to the roll of new carpet. ‘That’s another reason why we have to leave a month’s deposit with the landlord. If there’s any damage when we leave, he uses it.’

  ‘So you intended leaving before Alan disappeared?’

  ‘Yes, I told you. We were looking for a place to buy – we were getting married.’

  ‘I see. Thank you.’

  Tina went back to the kitchen as they finished up the search of the lounge.

  ‘Do you want a coffee?’ she offered, from where she was sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar.

  ‘No, thank you, but do you mind if we look in there? Shouldn’t take long,’ Anna said.

  Tina picked up her coffee and walked past them to sit in the lounge. They opened the cupboards beneath the sink first, and Anna held up a container of bleach. It was half-empty and no other container was visible. There were scrubbing brushes and a bucket which all smelled strongly of bleach. Anna went into the lounge.

  ‘You have a container of bleach in the kitchen?’

  ‘Yes – what about it?’

  ‘We have a witness who saw you buying a considerable amount of bleach and some carpet cleaner from Asda.’

  ‘Yes. I use bleach to clean the floor in the salon. I use that one here to clean around the sinks and tiles in the kitchen and the bathroom.’

  ‘And the carpet cleaner?’

  ‘I used it to try and clean up coffee and food stains on the carpet so we wouldn’t lose the deposit but gave up and ordered a new carpet.’

  Paul finished checking out the kitchen and walked past Anna into the master bedroom. It really was a very nondescript tasteless flat, and the bedroom had the same beige carpet. He searched through the wardrobes and dressing-table drawers; they were as they had been from their first search of the place. There were also two black plastic bin liners filled with Alan’s clothes, all folded neatly, with a tag attached to the bag which said Salvation Army. Paul had to remove each item and check it out.

  Anna had by now completed a search of the small second bedroom which was used as an office. She found nothing, apart from the accounts for both Tina and Alan’s mobile phones. As she went into the master bedroom, Tina approached her.

  ‘Listen, I am going to have to leave. I’ve got appointments for this afternoon.’

  ‘We won’t be too long. I am taking these statements for the mobile phones. Is that all right?’

  ‘Take whatever you want.’ Tina went back into the kitchen to wash up her own coffee mug.

  Paul indicated the black bin liners, saying, ‘His clothes ready for the Salvation Army.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘His side of their wardrobe’s empty.’

  ‘Miss Brooks?’ Anna said loudly. She pointed at the plastic bin liners. ‘You are sending these to the Salvation Army?’

  ‘Yes. They’re Alan’s clothes, no use to me, and if he comes back, serves him right.’

  Tina walked off again, and Anna shook her head. Talk about lack of emotion! She sighed. They had found nothing. She looked around the room and then back to the bed. There was a bedside table on either side of the bed, each with a matching lamp. Anna noticed old indentations in the carpet on the right side of the bed.

  ‘The bed and tables have been moved to the left. Push the bed back out to the right.’

  Paul heaved at it. It was very heavy and he hadn’t been able to see beneath as it had two storage units under the frame and mattress. It took him all his strength to move the bed, and Anna had to shift the other bedside table so it wouldn’t get in the way.

  ‘What have we got here?’ Paul wondered, bending down.

  ‘What is it?’

  He pointed to an inserted square of carpet almost the same size as the section they had found missing beneath the sofa.

  ‘Is it tacked down or glued?’ Anna asked, close to him.

  ‘Double-sided carpet tape holding it down.’

  ‘Ease it up.’

  Paul carefully drew the carpet up by one corner, pulling it away from the underlay. He sniffed. ‘I can smell bleach.’

  As he slowly peeled it back to reveal the dark waffle of the underlay they could see a large bleach-stained area. It was almost circular and had been scrubbed so hard there were bits of damaged rubber and weave exposed.

  Anna stood up. She instructed Paul to get the local Scene of Crime officers to the flat to test the stain.

  ‘There’s no red wine on that bit of carpet you just lifted.’

  Next, Anna drew the sheet from the bed, but there was no sign of staining on the mattress, duvet or pillows. Tina came and stood in the doorway.

  ‘I am going to have to go. Have you finished in here?’

  Anna turned to face her. ‘No, Miss Brooks, we have not. We have found something very disturbing and we will need to get people here to ascertain exactly what—’

  ‘What’s that?’ Tina demanded, coming further into the room.

  ‘It is obvious that the carpet cut from your lounge has been used to cover damage in here.’

  ‘Oh my God, I’ve never even seen that before!’

  ‘I will need to interview you, Miss Brooks, at the station.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I thi
nk the staining on the underlay by the bed is due to someone cleaning it with bleach, maybe because it had Alan Rawlins’s blood on it, so if you would agree to accompany me . . .’

  ‘I’ve got nothing to do with that! I didn’t even know it was there.’

  ‘I nevertheless need to ask you to accompany me.’

  ‘But I’ve got appointments!’

  ‘You had better cancel them.’

  The forensic team moved into the flat an hour later, and quickly ascertained that the underlay stain was bleach mixed with traces of human blood. They proceeded to roll back a wider area of carpet and then underlay, revealing heavily bloodstained floorboards. Due to the extent and density of the stain, even though attempts had been made to clean it with bleach, the Forensic Crime Scene Examiner believed that whoever had sustained the injury could have had a very severe wound. They also began examining the carpet in the lounge looking for any further signs of blood and the so-called wine spillage.

  A very distraught Tina Brooks was taken in a patrol car to the station. Anna followed in her Mini whilst Paul remained at the flat to liaise with the forensic team as the premises were now being treated as a possible murder scene. Various items of clothing, the mattress and bedding, along with the neatly tied black bin liners of Alan Rawlins’s clothes were removed to be tested at the lab.

  Tina had been asked if she would like representation and she insisted that she wanted a solicitor present. This took a further hour as they waited for a Jonathan Hyde to arrive. Meanwhile Anna was checking if there were any blood samples known to have been taken from Alan Rawlins, in case the stain in the flat belonged to him, then they could match it. She spoke to his father, who seemed in a terrible way to be relieved that at long last there was some kind of result. Even the fact that it was possible his son had met with foul play meant he could stop hoping, he said. He wanted to know for certain, and he agreed that both he and his wife would give blood samples, to be able to prove whether or not the blood discovered beneath the bed was their son’s.