'What about your stepson?'
'Edward?'
'Yes; do the girls get along with their half-brother?'
'Of course, he is a sweet boy; very much under his father's domination, but he's working very hard.'
'Can you tell me about his wife?'
Dominique looked slightly fazed, then shrugged.
'She committed suicide, didn't she?'
'Yes, it was very sad; she was a very highly strung girl. Although she had been in treatment for depression, she took her own life.'
'She was addicted to drugs, wasn't she?'
Dominique stiffened, seeming to dislike the direction the conversation was going in. 'I believe so, but what she did in the privacy of her own home I was not aware of. It was just very sad.'
'There was a police enquiry, wasn't there?'
'Yes, isn't there always in a suicide? They found nothing untoward; she hanged herself in the barn. This was before it was converted into a gymnasium and playroom.'
'Were you questioned about a police enquiry regarding your youngest daughter?'
'I'm sorry?' Again, she tried to frown.
'Emily tried to bring a complaint against her father, your ex-husband, for sexual harassment and attempted rape.'
'No, no, no; that was all very wretched and not true. Emily is very highly strung and with an over-vivid imagination. There were no charges, and Emily went into therapy afterwards, which helped her. She is very very emotionally insecure and only now I think making headway since she became a student. She is exceptionally clever and considering all her health problems, she always did very well at school. She suffers from bulimia and at times has been very ill. But she is also recovering from that problem, in fact, I think she really has overcome her nervous disorder and is much better; possibly being in her own little flat and doing well in her studies helps.'
'Did she have any boyfriends?'
'Emily?'
'Yes.'
'Well she is only just seventeen, so I doubt she has had serious relationships. To be honest, I am not aware of any boyfriends she might have now, as I am mostly abroad.'
'So the operation?'
'What operation?' The foot twitched again.
'Was Emily ever pregnant?'
'Emily?'
'Yes, your youngest daughter; was Emily ever pregnant and did she have an abortion?'
'No, no I would have known! This is preposterous, unless you have talked to Emily and she has started making up stories again. She made up so many lies and it really did create a terrible situation.'
Anna felt as if she was at a tennis match, constantly looking over to Langton and back at Dominique. He really and truly never ceased to amaze her. He had only been given the information the previous night when he had been well and truly pissed; yet here he was, not missing a trick. Yet again, she found herself staring at him in awe.
Langton was looking down at the carpet, his foot inching forward into the thick pile and then back a fraction. He suddenly looked up. 'So you are unaware of any termination?'
'Yes! I have just said so! I would have known; I do have a very close relationship with my daughters.'
Langton leaned forward slightly, his fingers playing with the fringing on the arm of his chair.
'So what operation do you think your daughter could have been referring to?'
'I am nonplussed. I don't know and I really don't quite understand why you are asking me these questions.'
'Your husband was a surgeon?'
'Yes, that is correct.'
'Did he perform the operation? Let me rephrase that: could he have terminated the pregnancy of your daughter without you being privy to it?'
'No: as I said, I have a good relationship with my two girls.'
'What about with your stepson?'
'As I said before, he is a very dear, hard-working boy. I don't have quite as close a relationship with him as my daughters, but then he is my stepson: his mother was my husband's first wife.'
'He also had a drug problem, didn't he?'
'No, he was just a very young and foolish boy at school. He was found smoking a joint and they expelled him, but it was just some grass, he was never addicted to any hard drugs.'
'Unlike his wife: the autopsy found cocaine and…'
'I really cannot tell you anything about my daughter-in-law, it was a very sad thing that happened, and affected us all.'
'Does your husband use drugs?'
She took a deep breath and shook her head. 'Not that I am aware of, but we have been divorced for a number of years, so what he may do now, I am not privy to.'
'Can you tell me about the parties at the Hall?'
She shrugged and then got up and crossed to her desk. She opened a silver cigarette box, and took one out. 'What exactly do you want to know about them?'
'Well, could you describe some of these events?'
She lit the cigarette and then carried a cut-glass ashtray to the table beside her chair. Langton asked if she would mind if he smoked as well and she apologised for not offering him one. This relaxed her; she even offered Langton her lighter. The gold charm bracelet tinkled as she flicked away the ash.
'Charles was always very fond of entertaining and we had a very good chef. We used the converted barn, as it has such a large space for dining and there is also a snooker table.' She inhaled and let the smoke drift from her mouth. 'There is also a swimming pool, a gymnasium with a sauna and whirlpool.' She laughed, tilting her head back slightly. 'Some dinner parties did go on for a long time; in the summer, the south wall would slide back so we could dine al fresco, and in the winter we'd have a massive log fire: all really rather pleasant.'
'Did your husband ship in prostitutes for these dinners?'
'I beg your pardon!' She gave an almost theatrical impression of being shocked.
'Your father-in-law was well known for sending his chauffeur to Soho in London and bringing back numerous girls.'
'I never knew my father-in-law or his chauffeur!'
'I just wondered if his son, your ex-husband, carried on this enjoyable tradition of wining and dining these girls.'
'No, he did not!'
'Could you tell me why you got divorced?'
'I don't think it is any of your business!'
'Yes, it is. You see, Mrs Wickenham, although our witnesses described the man last seen with the victim so clearly that our artist could produce this likeness, that was not the reason we made contact with your ex-husband. We received a phone call naming him as the killer of Louise Pennel.'
She got up and went to get another cigarette, this time lighting it from the butt of her previous one.
'This call could have been from your daughter Emily.'
Anna watched Langton closely as he upped the pressure a notch. She knew as well as he did that Emily Wickenham was not the caller, nor was her sister Justine.
'Why would Emily do such a terrible thing?' She stubbed out her cigarette, leaving the fresh one in her mouth. Anna began to see that although Dominique Wickenham had the appearance of a very obviously wealthy, pampered woman, she lacked class.
'That brings me to the possibility of her own father performing an abortion on her.'
'No! I have already told you that did not happen! I think perhaps you should really speak to me through my solicitor. Your questions are of a very personal nature and I do not feel inclined to answer any more.'
'I do apologise,' Langton said, stubbing out his cigarette, but making no sign of leaving. He leaned back in his chair. 'I am leading an enquiry into a really horrific murder. Louise Pennel, known as the Red Dahlia, was sliced in two. We are certain that the torture and humiliation forced upon her before she died was more than likely committed by a qualified surgeon.'
Dominique wafted her hand and said she was certain that there would be many other ex-surgeons, or even practising ones, that could fall under suspicion. She was adamant that her ex-husband could have had no part in these murders, just as she was c
ertain that he had never made sexual advances to her daughter. She was tight-lipped with anger as she insisted that he would not have performed any kind of illegal operation. She went on to say that, although they were divorced, they still respected each other and maintained a loving friendship which helped both their daughters.
Langton was becoming frustrated. His foot began to shake, a sign of a gathering storm. He leaned forward and clasped his hands.
'Mrs Wickenham, I really am trying to make sense of everything you say. You had an amicable divorce and you have maintained a loving friendship for the benefit of your daughters. Correct?'
'Yes, that is exactly what I have said.'
'So, I am confused as to why you would have two dysfunctional girls: one suffering from bulimia and in therapy, the other openly antagonistic towards her father. In fact, she stated that she hated him! And they neither spoke well of your stepson.'
'I can't speak for them,' she said, looking at her watch.
'Surely you can? You are their mother: they spend most of their free time with you.'
'Yes, yes they do.'
'Does your ex-husband also spend time here with you?'
'No, he does not.'
'But you remain very fond of him?'
'Yes, that is correct.'
'And fond of his son and heir, Edward.'
'Yes. Really, why are you asking me these ridiculous questions? I do not know these poor girls you say were murdered, I cannot help you in any way. You are making me feel very uncomfortable, as if you are trying to make me say slanderous things about my ex-husband that would be completely untrue.'
'I apologise if it seems that way.'
Anna coughed and they both turned towards her as if they had forgotten her existence. 'May I use your bathroom?'
Dominique got up and crossed to the double doors. She opened one and her charm bracelet tinkled as she pointed down the corridor.
'First on your left.'
'Thank you.'
Anna closed the door behind her. She didn't need to use the bathroom, but was hoping to have a private conversation with the maid, Danielle, who she was certain had been listening outside the door. She stood in the expansive hall, trying to work out where the kitchen was, when she heard the clink of dishes from behind a door at the far end of the hallway. She gave a very light tap and opened it. The maid was unloading the dishwasher; she turned, startled.
'I wondered if I could talk to you for a moment?'
Danielle crossed to a cabinet to put away some glasses. She closed the cabinet and returned to the dishwasher.
'Do you speak English?'
Danielle gathered up some dinner plates, stacking them neatly. She wouldn't look at Anna, but continued moving back and forth to the dishwasher. Anna wondered if she was deaf. She asked again if she understood English and, at last, got a response.
'I cannot talk to you, please excuse me. Thank you.'
'It is very important: we need to ask you some questions.'
'No, please.'
'It's about Emily and Justine; they stay here a lot, don't they?'
Danielle nodded and then sat down. 'I love them like my own children. I love them.' She bowed her head as she started to cry, taking a handkerchief from her apron pocket. 'I know why you are here. Is Emily all right?'
Langton lit another cigarette and stared at Dominique with slanted eyes. The smoke drifted up towards the air-conditioning vents. He slowly appraised the room and then fixed his gaze on her once more. She was standing in front of the fake log fire, with one elbow resting on the white marble mantelpiece.
'He doesn't speak very highly of you.'
'I beg your pardon?'
'Your ex-husband referred to you as money-grabbing; he implied that you were putting pressure on him to pay you more alimony.'
She arched one eyebrow and did not reply, but looked pointedly at her watch.
'Has he agreed to pay you a substantial amount more?'
She pursed her lips. 'You have no right to ask me personal questions. I would like you to leave please.'
'I can very easily check it out, Mrs Wickenham. Have you recently been paid more money by your ex-husband?'
'No.'
'Are you expecting to be paid for being such an admirable and caring ex-wife?'
'That is enough!'
Dominique stalked over to the double closed doors; she was just reaching for the handle when Anna walked in.
'I'm sorry.
'You are just leaving,' she said icily, looking at Langton with distaste as he stubbed out his cigarette and stood up.
'Yes, thank you for your time, Mrs Wickenham. Oh, just one more thing; before your marriage, what did you do?'
She blinked and then shrugged, smiling. 'What on earth do you want to know that for?'
Langton laughed; he leaned over and took her hand. 'I just wanted to hear what you would say. I obviously know, but you lie so beautifully, madame.'
She snatched back her hand and slapped the door closed. She went so red, her eyes bulged.
'You dare to come here, asking me questions and insinuating things about my family! Then you accuse me of lying!'
'You were an exotic dancer.'
Anna thought Dominique was going to slap Langton's face but she controlled her temper, clenching her hands into fists.
'Who have you been asking about me?' she spat.
'It wasn't too difficult; you have a police record, madame. You are still on record in Marseilles. Now I don't know if your husband is, or was, aware of your rather colourful past.'
'My husband knew everything about me.'
'Did he hire you; is that how you met? I know he has a predilection for very young prostitutes. I also suspect that he couldn't keep his hands off his own daughter.'
Her face was now white with fury. 'Get out. Get out!' She gasped, yanking the door open so hard it banged against the pristine white wall.
Langton nodded to Anna to move into the hall ahead of him. He passed the shaken Dominique, close enough to be almost touching her.
'He must be paying you a lot of money,' he said, very quietly.
She shouted for her maid, but there was no sign of the elderly woman. She pointed to the front door. 'Please go, please go.'
Anna could see that Langton was not finished; he had that glint in his eyes. He reached the front door and was about to turn the handle and walk out when he paused, instead snapping open his briefcase. He took a moment to select the exact picture he wanted: the mortuary shot of the mutilated Louise Pennel.
'Take a look, Mrs Wickenham: this is the Red Dahlia.'
Dominique averted her eyes.
'Look at it.'
'Why are you doing this to me?'
'You should know what this monster did to this young woman. I came to see you specifically to—'
'You came here because you wanted me to implicate my ex-husband in this horror. Well, I do not believe for a second he is involved. I have never seen either of those two girls you showed me; you seem to be intent on shocking me into—'
'I just want the truth, Mrs Wickenham; but you seem to be incapable of being honest,' Langton interrupted, clicking his briefcase closed. 'You cited in your divorce hearing abusive and threatening behaviour, your husband's sexual demands and constant infidelities. You also gained custody of both your daughters, because you stated that living with their father was not a healthy environment for young girls.'
'I never saw either of those women you showed me, and what one states in a divorce hearing is not necessarily…'
'The whole truth and nothing but the truth?' Langton interjected.
'I wasn't going to say that; at the time, I had to protect myself and my future. We have now made very amicable arrangements. It's quite common, you know; to be unable to live with someone and yet still care for them after separation.'
She seemed to be back in control. Danielle appeared and Dominique asked her to show the 'guests' to the elevator. Langton snapped that
it would not be necessary.
Reflected in the elevator's gilt edging, he could see Mrs Dominique Wickenham still staring after them, composed and elegant; she slowly closed her front door.
Langton was in a foul mood on the way back to their hotel. They had really gained very little from the trip. His extensive knowledge of Mrs Wickenham's past had fazed Anna but had not brought any results.
'She was a whore,' Langton said, as they went into the hotel lobby.
'Must have been quite young,' Anna said.
'She was. I traced two arrests for soliciting in Paris. No way is she going to give us anything on Wickenham, because he pays out a fortune to her in alimony. That apartment must cost a bomb and like he said himself, the lady likes to shop.'
'So what's the next move?'
'We do as Professor Marshe suggested: weed out any known associates of Wickenham's and see if they can enlighten us.'
'If they were involved in any of these parties, then they are unlikely to be that helpful. I think we concentrate on the old housekeeper, the son and track down the girlfriend at her health farm.'
'Is that what you think, Travis?'
'Yes.'
'I detect a slight frisson; what's the matter?'
'It would be helpful if you had enlightened me with what you know, as maybe I could have had some input. I had to sit there just watching as you came out with the fact she was an exotic dancer, details of her divorce and her record for prostitution.' She asked for her key at the reception desk, warming up to have a row with him. 'I know you like to play things close to your chest, it's the way you work, but sometimes you should share information. I couldn't give you very much help.'
'Do you think you could have?'
'Yes! Well, I say yes; obviously, I'm not sure. I would have maybe taken it a bit calmer, teased it out of her.'
'Teased what out of her?' Langton asked.
Anna sighed; they had by now crossed to the elevators and were heading up to the third floor.
'Well, if she was what, eighteen, nineteen, years of age when she married Wickenham?'
'Not that young; she was twenty-five.'
'Okay, about my age. She's been arrested and she gets this rich-as-Croesus Englishman who must have brought her over from Paris; it's not a brain surgeon you need to tell you that it was the sex. So she hooks him, marries him, has two children…'
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