up his usual position at the front of the room for a briefing. He was surly and had his hands stuffed into his trouser pockets as he paced up and down.
‘I had another meet with Professor Marshe; we discussed our mystery man, the tall dark stranger we have so far been unable to trace. His description matches the killer of Elizabeth Short. This is what the LA homicide reckoned their suspect looked like.’
Langton turned over a blank page on the big drawing board to reveal a drawing of the Los Angeles suspect, drawn in 1947.
‘The only description we have of our killer is from Sharon, so let’s see how we match up. It could, at a pinch, be the same man: long dark coat, collar turned up; tall, about six feet; dark, close-cropped hair, a touch of grey at the temples. Our guy has no moustache, but he might have grown one if he’s as obsessed with copycatting the Elizabeth Short case as we think he is. We can put this drawing out alongside a request for anyone with any information about him to come forward.’
Anna’s desk phone rang; it was Dick Reynolds. She was irritated that he had called her at work until he said, ‘I’ve just had a phone call; I think it was your killer.’
Anna sat bolt upright. ‘What?’
‘I’ve just got off the phone; he called the crime desk and asked to speak to me.’
‘Did you tape it?’
‘Of course.’
‘Oh my God, can you bring it to us?’
‘Can’t you come to me?’
‘Hold on.’
Anna put up her hand and Langton, who had continued discussing the drawings, looked over to her, visibly displeased at the interruption.
‘Yes?’
‘The crime desk at the Sun just had a call they think is from the killer.’
Langton almost jumped along the desks to snatch the phone. ‘Who am I speaking to?’
‘Richard Reynolds.’
Langton took a moment to steady himself. ‘Mr Reynolds, I would be most grateful if you could bring over the tape of the call immediately.’ Langton listened for another few moments, and then nodded. ‘Thank you.’ He replaced the receiver and looked to Anna. ‘He’s coming in directly.’
Langton then looked to the team. ‘Professor Marshe was right. Our killer just made verbal contact with the press.’
Twenty-five minutes later, Dick Reynolds was ushered into Langton’s office. Lewis, Barolli and Anna were there waiting.
Reynolds took a miniature cassette from one pocket and then, from the other, a small tape recorder with an attachment for plugging into a telephone.
‘I’ve not made copies because I don’t have another tape this size. It was lucky I’d got this in my desk drawer. I did miss a section as I was plugging it in.’
Langton gestured for Lewis to insert the tape into the machine. Reynolds was introduced to Lewis and Barolli.
‘You know Anna Travis.’
Reynolds smiled at Anna who smiled back politely.
‘So what happened was, I was at the crime desk and the call was transferred from the switchboard. It came straight to me as I was the only person there at the time. That machine’s a bit old and dodgy, so some of his dialogue isn’t that clear.’
‘Right,’ Langton said, pressing Start. There were a few moments of silence.
The voice was crisp and to the point.
‘Well Mr Reynolds, I congratulate you on what your newspaper has done on the Red Dahlia case.’
‘Er, thank you.’
‘But you seem to have gone silent on it; have you run out of material?’
‘You could say that.’
‘Maybe I can be of some assistance. ‘This was muffled, with a lot of crackling.
‘Well we need it, or the police do.’
‘I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll send you some of Louise Pennel’s things that she had with her when she, shall we say, disappeared.’
‘When will I get them?’
‘Oh, within the next day or so. See how far you can get with them. Now I have to say goodbye. You may be trying to trace the call’
‘Wait a minute—’
The phone clicked dead. Langton rubbed his head, and gestured for the call to
‘I had another meet with Professor Marshe; we discussed our mystery man, the tall dark stranger we have so far been unable to trace. His description matches the killer of Elizabeth Short. This is what the LA homicide reckoned their suspect looked like.’
Langton turned over a blank page on the big drawing board to reveal a drawing of the Los Angeles suspect, drawn in 1947.
‘The only description we have of our killer is from Sharon, so let’s see how we match up. It could, at a pinch, be the same man: long dark coat, collar turned up; tall, about six feet; dark, close-cropped hair, a touch of grey at the temples. Our guy has no moustache, but he might have grown one if he’s as obsessed with copycatting the Elizabeth Short case as we think he is. We can put this drawing out alongside a request for anyone with any information about him to come forward.’
Anna’s desk phone rang; it was Dick Reynolds. She was irritated that he had called her at work until he said, ‘I’ve just had a phone call; I think it was your killer.’
Anna sat bolt upright. ‘What?’
‘I’ve just got off the phone; he called the crime desk and asked to speak to me.’
‘Did you tape it?’
‘Of course.’
‘Oh my God, can you bring it to us?’
‘Can’t you come to me?’
‘Hold on.’
Anna put up her hand and Langton, who had continued discussing the drawings, looked over to her, visibly displeased at the interruption.
‘Yes?’
‘The crime desk at the Sun just had a call they think is from the killer.’
Langton almost jumped along the desks to snatch the phone. ‘Who am I speaking to?’
‘Richard Reynolds.’
Langton took a moment to steady himself. ‘Mr Reynolds, I would be most grateful if you could bring over the tape of the call immediately.’ Langton listened for another few moments, and then nodded. ‘Thank you.’ He replaced the receiver and looked to Anna. ‘He’s coming in directly.’
Langton then looked to the team. ‘Professor Marshe was right. Our killer just made verbal contact with the press.’
Twenty-five minutes later, Dick Reynolds was ushered into Langton’s office. Lewis, Barolli and Anna were there waiting.
Reynolds took a miniature cassette from one pocket and then, from the other, a small tape recorder with an attachment for plugging into a telephone.
‘I’ve not made copies because I don’t have another tape this size. It was lucky I’d got this in my desk drawer. I did miss a section as I was plugging it in.’
Langton gestured for Lewis to insert the tape into the machine. Reynolds was introduced to Lewis and Barolli.
‘You know Anna Travis.’
Reynolds smiled at Anna who smiled back politely.
‘So what happened was, I was at the crime desk and the call was transferred from the switchboard. It came straight to me as I was the only person there at the time. That machine’s a bit old and dodgy, so some of his dialogue isn’t that clear.’
‘Right,’ Langton said, pressing Start. There were a few moments of silence.
The voice was crisp and to the point.
‘Well Mr Reynolds, I congratulate you on what your newspaper has done on the Red Dahlia case.’
‘Er, thank you.’
‘But you seem to have gone silent on it; have you run out of material?’
‘You could say that.’
‘Maybe I can be of some assistance. ‘This was muffled, with a lot of crackling.
‘Well we need it, or the police do.’
‘I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll send you some of Louise Pennel’s things that she had with her when she, shall we say, disappeared.’
‘When will I get them?’
‘Oh, within the next day or so. See how far you can get with them. Now I have to say goodbye. You may be trying to trace the call’
‘Wait a minute—’
The phone clicked dead. Langton rubbed his head, and gestured for the call to
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