Blind Fury

Chapter Eighteen

Anna thought about Langton on the drive home. She was certain he was trying to get closer to her, but she didn’t know why. Perhaps he didn’t like the fact that she was no longer under his control, emotionally, at least. As she drove up to her garage, she saw Ken sitting astride his motorbike. Her spirits lifted immediately. As he took off his helmet, she got out and flung her arms around him. “Oh, I needed to see you!”

Arm in arm, they headed toward the lift. They kissed frantically as they reached the flat, besotted, and it didn’t take long for them to undress and get into bed. Having him with her made all the weights of Anna’s day disappear. Wrapped in his arms, she said that she couldn’t think of anything better than to have him there.

“I’ve had such a long, shattering day, and yet we are at long last moving the case forward.”

“Yeah, me, too. We got verification today that Welsh is being moved the day after tomorrow. That’s the reason I was able to make my escape.”

They got up and made bacon sandwiches, as hungry for food as they were for each other. Anna didn’t elaborate on the day’s events, and Ken didn’t feel inclined to give more details on the problems they were having with Welsh. Instead, they discussed dates for their wedding, and Anna said that perhaps after this case, she would take some unpaid leave for a few months. This would give them time to look for a place to live.

Ken was surprised. “You’d want to do that?”

“Yes. You know, I have never taken a holiday, never mind proper time off, and I think now is the right moment.”

“I thought you were ambitious?”

“I am. Let’s say I’m not at the moment, although I would like to try and get my promotion. But the thought of not being involved in another case straightaway comes as a big sense of relief.”

They discussed finances. Ken knew that starting more training as a child psychologist, expanding his degree to work with mentally challenged children and underprivileged teens, would not be well paid. He was embarrassed to admit that his salary would be in the region of £12,000 to £14,000 a year. He was surprised to discover how much Anna earned; she also had a substantial savings account: £170,000.

“I never spend all that much. Maybe because I never have time to go shopping,” she said. “This flat cost more than I ever believed I’d be able to afford. I’ve got a mortgage, but I was able to use some money my dad left me, and I sold my previous flat. So when we sell this one, we won’t have any money problems for a few years, at least. When I return to work, we’ll have my wages combined with yours.”

Ken put his arms around her, clearly loving her even more. Her practicality and generosity had overwhelmed him, he said. “It’s strange, isn’t it? There’s me, saving every cent to be able to continue getting more training as a child psychologist, and there’s Welsh with a degree, having all the time to study, plus three meals a day, living in a comfortable cell and financially well off.”

Anna hugged him. “I wouldn’t even think about it. He’s never going to be able to do anything but have even more time to face up to the waste of his intellect. Also, he’ll be out of your hair soon, so you won’t have to see him again.”

The following morning, Ken had to leave early for his shift on the unit. Anna took a lazy shower, washed her hair, and then dressed, ready to go into the station. She knew it was going to be another long day, and she was glad that Ken had stayed over, because she had slept so soundly in his arms. Usually, if the day ahead looked like a tough one, with lengthy interrogations, she would have forced herself to check over her files and notes in preparation, and more often than not, she would have had a restless night. But having Ken there made her feel calm and confident.

Anna was at her desk by eight-thirty. She had stopped to buy a Starbucks coffee and was eating a cream donut when Barbara passed.

“All right for some. I eat one of them, and I roll on extra pounds.”

Anna smiled and licked her sticky fingers.

“He was here all night, I think — Langton,” the DC went on.

“Was he?”

“Yeah. In Mike’s office. When he was a DCI, he used to have all his shirts stacked up — had me going back and forth to the laundry for him.”

“He’s got a wife to do that now.”

“I suppose he has. You never know with him, but then you probably know him better than any of us.”

Anna couldn’t help smiling, Barbara was so obviously fishing for gossip, and she looked her straight in the eye. “Why do you say that?”

Barbara hunched her shoulders. “You know, we all sort of knew you were with him for a time. You know, when he got injured...”

“Ah, yes, then. That was a long time ago.”

“He still gets a lot of pain. I presume he’s taking tablets for that — caught him taking a handful this morning. Is he still having problems?”

“I don’t know.”

“We got some added details coming in regarding that murder Sonja Smiley told you about. Nothing confirmed yet, but they did have a cold case, and the victim was a Chrissie O’Keefe, so Mike will be hoping to get more details this morning.”

“Good.”

“So this new man in your life, what does he do?”

“He works in Barfield Prison.”

“Oh, well, that’s going to be quite a drag for you, going up and down to Leeds.”

“No, he’s starting work in London after we’re married.”

“Oh, working in a prison down here, is he?”

“No, he’s a child psychologist and will be working with mentally challenged children.”

“So he’s a bit more than a security prison guard?”

“Yes.”

“That’s nice. Do Joan and me get to buy new hats?”

Anna laughed and said they should, as it would be a formal wedding.

“Oh, you’ll be wearing white, then?”

“Yes.”

“I would have liked a decent wedding myself, but we just went to a register office. It’s not the same; they wouldn’t even let anyone throw confetti.”

Langton walked in, and Barbara turned to him. “I know — a chicken and bacon sandwich, no tomatoes.”

“No, I’ve already eaten.”

Barbara scurried over to her desk as Langton looked at Anna. “We go in half an hour. Smiley’s lawyer is already here.”

He crooked his finger toward her. “You know, we might get a lot of unpleasant details if I’m right and he starts talking.”

“I think, with the added information from his wife, it could be in the cards. Barbara mentioned the cold case and that Chrissie O’Keefe is being checked out. Will they be sending over the case files?”

He nodded and then touched the knot of his tie. “You can handle it?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Good. Right, then, let’s go get the bastard.”

Smiley was brought up from the cells with Gregson at his side, the latter looking refreshed and smart. His client, by contrast, looked much the worse for wear. He had a bruise under his right eye and hadn’t shaved. His tie had been removed, along with his shoelaces, so his shirt was open from the collar, and the sweat marks on it were clearly visible. He asked if he could remove his jacket and did so, revealing sodden patches of sweat beneath his arms. His body odor was strong and unpleasant, almost as pungent as his wife’s.

Langton proceeded, repeating Smiley’s rights and saying that they would tape and video the interview. He began by explaining to Gregson, not even glancing at Smiley, that subject to Sonja Smiley’s statement the previous evening, there could be another charge leveled against his client in connection to a fourteen-year-old murder inquiry.

Gregson puffed out his cheeks. “I should have been given details of this before we started this session.”

“I’m afraid we don’t have them.” Langton shrugged. “We are waiting for confirmation from the team who investigated the murder of Chrissie O’Keefe, so I am being up-front with the possibility that your client was involved.” He looked directly at Smiley. “Your wife has claimed that she gave you an alibi for the night of O’Keefe’s murder. Do you wish to give details now or prefer to wait until we have been able to—”

Smiley interrupted. “I can tell you what I did do — the biggest mistake of my life. I married the bitch, that’s all I will admit to doing. She’d rake up anything to get me into trouble. You saw what she did to me, how she attacked me. Crazy fat bitch.”

“You’ve certainly changed your opinion of her,” Anna said softly.

“Yeah, it’s called telling the truth.” Smiley pushed his chair back slightly to rest his elbows on his knees. “You have no idea what I went through; you get into a situation, and then it goes out of control. I never wanted to marry her, I’d already finished with her. She came on like the Virgin Queen with me, wouldn’t let me screw her, although I knew most of the lads had given her one — and for money — but she wouldn’t let me near her, and it pissed me off, so I finished with her.”

Anna wasn’t sure why Langton appeared disinclined to press for details on their victims; instead, he leaned back in his chair, nodding.

After a moment, encouraged, Smiley continued. “You know, I had to put up with a lot of snide remarks from the lads about marrying her, and I just had to take it, understand?”

Langton nodded again, still not saying anything.

“So I got into the situation, right? I also had to take on her halfwit of a mother. She was senile, and I had to shell out money for her. Sonja wanted her to move in with us, but I drew the line there. I wasn’t having that, and I kept on making excuses. By this time I was in civvies and I got the job with Swell Blinds, worked my arse off for Arnold Rodgers, and then the old lady died, so that was one weight off me.”

Langton nodded as if he understood where Smiley was coming from. Anna, like Smiley’s lawyer, was baffled by the rambling history of Smiley’s marriage and why he was being allowed to continue. Both sat back, listening, while Langton appeared to be even more interested, giving Smiley his full attention.

“You have kids?” Smiley asked.

“Yes,” Langton said.

“Then, maybe you can understand. First came my boy, Stefan, then two years later, my daughter, Marta. I love those kids, I loved them from the moment they were born. And Sonja was a good mother — I’m not saying she wasn’t — and we was living in Kilburn in a rented house, and I was workin’ my way up the ladder with Swell Blinds. You see, somewhere in my head, I’d reckoned I’d be able to walk away from her one day, leave her, but when the kids came along, there was no way out. No way was I going to leave them.”

“And she must still have threatened you?” Langton said it as if he were on Smiley’s side.

“Right. She’d never actually put it into words, just hints, know what I mean? If I went out for a pint with my old mates, she’d gimme a hard time; she was on my back like a leech, sucking the blood out of me. You have no idea what it was like to live with someone who monitored every move I made, who kept me short with pocket money. I had to tell her where I’d been, and I couldn’t stand it. I hated her.”

“Why didn’t you kill her?”

Smiley smiled. “Don’t think I never thought about it, but with two young children, I was trapped — understand me?”

“So she was virtually blackmailing you, is that right?”

“Yes, but like I said, she never came out with it. It was just always there, in the background.”

“Sorry, I didn’t quite understand. What was always there?”

“That she’d lied for me over Chrissie O’Keefe, given me the alibi.”

“Did you ever admit to Sonja that—”

Smiley interrupted Langton. “I told her it was an accident. Truth was, I was no longer interested in Sonja. I started to see Chrissie, but she went and did the same thing to me, coming on to me, getting me all excited, and then pushing me off her. It got me so mad! I knew both of them were a right pair of slags who gave it up for all me mates, but with me, they wanted a commitment, know what I mean?”

“Why do you think that was?”

“Most of the other blokes were already married. I was younger and single, that’s what I put it down to.”

“You were a catch, then?”

Smiley nodded. “Yeah, yeah — that’s right.”

“But you punished Chrissie, didn’t you?”

“Too right I did. Served her right, but I’ve paid the price. I had Sonja squeezing me and always the threat that she’d tell the cops if I didn’t do the right thing. Sometimes it felt like I was on a leash. All that was missing was the fucking dog collar.”

“But you found ways of cheating on her, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. That was some comfort, know what I mean?”

“I bet it was.”

“She got uglier and fatter. I never touched her after my daughter was born, and it worked for me — you know, that she was eatin’ for England.” He laughed. “It meant she didn’t get out of the house that much, and then we moved to Manchester, and I sometimes had to do the long hauls back and forth to London, and she couldn’t put her friggin’ clock on me just so long as I got home every night.”

“Let’s go back to when you lived in Kilburn, John.”

Listening to Smiley’s accounts of his marital life or lack of it, Anna began to understand what Langton was doing. By now Smiley seemed to feel as if he were talking to a friend. He never acknowledged Anna but kept his focus on Langton, unaware that the DCS was slowly drawing him out. He had even unwittingly admitted to killing Chrissie O’Keefe.

Because Gregson was not privy to the details of O’Keefe’s murder, he could not understand how Langton had trapped his client. He made copious notes, but every time he began to speak, Smiley shut him up with a sharp dig of his elbow. In the end, Gregson burst out, “Mr. Smiley, I really feel that we should ask for a moment in private to discuss the fact that we have not had any disclosure regarding this Chrissie O’Keefe.”

“Shut up. I don’t wanna listen to you. You’re too young to understand,” Smiley said rudely.

Langton gestured to Anna to open the file on Margaret Potts. She passed him the photographs. He selected one and placed it in front of Smiley. “You have admitted that you knew Margaret Potts, but can you elaborate on where you first met her?”

Smiley tapped the photograph. “I said before — King’s Cross station in a café. I used to have breakfast there, and she was a regular.”

“How long ago was this?”

Smiley puffed out his cheeks. “Be a good few years ago, maybe seven. I was still living in Kilburn, I remember that.” He repeated how Margaret had suggested he sell blinds to Emerald Turk.

Langton doodled on his notepad. “Yes, we know about you being in Emerald Turk’s flat, we know you were paying money to Margaret, but when did she start to really nudge you for more cash? It must have felt like you’d got hooked by another Sonja, right?”

“Right.”

“So what did she threaten? To tell your wife about your relationship?”

“Yeah, but that didn’t worry me, because we moved to Manchester.”

“But you have stated that you did have calls from her when you lived there. Your wife has also verified that she received a number of put-down callers.”

“Right. Yeah, sorry, I forgot, but like I said, I changed my number when we bought the house up there.”

Langton flicked through his notebook, muttering, “Hang on, John... I’m having trouble matching dates. You have admitted knowing Margaret Potts for around seven years...”

“Off and on, yeah.”

“It was about five years ago you fixed up the blinds in Emerald Turk’s flat, correct?”

“Yeah, give or take.”

“Help me out with this, John. You have also said that after that time you didn’t keep in touch with her, am I right?”

“Yes.”

“So the phone calls you received from her in Manchester would have started around about four years ago.”

“Yes.”

“So she did keep in touch with you, but she wasn’t making threats about calling Sonja, was she? She had something a lot bigger to hold over you, didn’t she?”

Smiley looked alarmed.

“It’s all right, John, I can understand what it must have felt like to have another woman threatening you. All I need to know from you is how the hell did Maggie find out about Dorota Pelagia?”

Langton was brilliant, the way he casually dropped in the name of the victim. Smiley didn’t even react to the name or say he didn’t know who she was. Langton removed Dorota’s photograph from her file and placed it in front of Smiley. “Sonja knew about her, didn’t she?” Langton continued in the same relaxed tone. “She was young, she was beautiful, and compared with Margaret and Sonja, she was fresh... lovely. How did you meet her?”

“I was at Victoria coach station — that was where I sometimes picked up Margaret. She often worked there, if not at the Gateway Services. She used to hang out there — you know, picking up punters — and I’d finished my deliveries, so I had time to spare and went looking for her.”

He licked his lips. “She was with her. Someone had nicked her bag — well, that’s what I was told — and Margaret said that if I was going back to Manchester, could I give the girl a lift.”

“This girl you are talking about, was it Dorota Pelagia?”

“Yes, I just said so. She was Polish, and I was able to say a few words to her ’cause I’d picked up some Polish from Sonja, and so I offered to give her a ride as far as Manchester.”

“Where was she going?”

“Liverpool.”

“Go on.”

“She got in, and she was lovely, I liked her. Then I said to her that if she could wait for an hour at the service station on the M6, I would be able to give her a ride all the way to Liverpool.”

Smiley said that he drove his Swell Blinds van back to Manchester, parked in the street next to his lockup, and then, using Dillane’s van, drove to collect Dorota, who was waiting for him.

“It was getting late. I’d been working all day. I’d left home just after four and had a long drive to London and then back to Manchester, and now I had to go to Liverpool. I knew I’d have Sonja after me, so I was a bit wound up.”

“Don’t tell me. After all you’d done, picking her up at the coach station, then driving back to take her to Liverpool, Dorota played hard to get. Is that what happened?”

“Too fucking right. Ungrateful little mare. I even said that as I knew she had no money, I’d give her a few quid, but she got nasty, pushing me away, treating me like shit, and I snapped. After all I’d done for her... so I kicked her out of the van. She was shouting and screaming at me, and I got worried someone might stop and ask questions.”

“You wouldn’t want that. Wouldn’t want any trouble that might get back to Sonja — right?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I was worried about. So I grabbed her and put my hand over her mouth, and I opened up the back of the van to stuff her inside.” He gave one of his strange laughs. “When I got back into the driver’s seat, she was trying to open the cage, crying and begging me to let her out, saying I could do whatever I wanted to her, but she didn’t want me to hurt her.”

“But you did, didn’t you?” Langton flipped over the murder-site photographs, and Smiley flinched.

Gregson leaned toward Smiley and said he should not answer, as it was admittance and—

Smiley pushed him away, saying, “Bollocks! It’s fucking obvious what I done. By the time I got home, Sonja was like a slavering bulldog. I’d have liked to put my hands round her thick throat, strangle her like I done the girl.”

Langton nodded encouragingly. Smiley then gave them the hideous details of how he had strangled Dorota with her own tights, stripped her naked, raped her over and over again, and then driven her body around for two hours before wrapping her in the blue blanket and tossing her body into a field. He had then returned home, dumping the dead girl’s clothes in a charity-shop doorway.

“You must have thought you’d got away with it?”

“Yeah, and I would have an’ all but for that bitch Margaret. I mean, they didn’t have anything on me, right — no witness, no nothing.”

Smiley went on to explain how, unbeknownst to him, there had been a Crimewatch program on TV, asking for anyone with information to come forward. Dorota’s photograph had also been published in the newspapers.

“I was still not worried, and then that bitch calls my office and says she wants to talk to me.”

“Margaret Potts?”

“Yeah, her. She didn’t have me home number ’cause, like I said, I’d moved to the house in Manchester. She only called the friggin’ office! — She said she wanted a lot of money ’cause she recognized Dorota, and she also said she knew I had this blue blanket in me van because we’d had sex in the back once and she said it smelled of dogs. She was a wily bitch, and she put two and two together. So I agreed to meet up with her.”

“How much money did she want?”

Smiley shook his head. “She’d always hit me up for a tenner or twenty here and there, over not tellin’ Sonja about us, but this time... Jesus Christ! It started with a couple of hundred, then it got to more, and she threatened to go to the police. It was a fucking nightmare, the bloody Sonja scenario all over again.”

Langton glanced at Anna and passed her a note that said, Time frame.

Anna asked if the time Smiley had been at Emerald Turk’s flat to fix the blinds was when the payments had started.

“No, it was after, but when I was there, she hit me up for a couple of hundred. She said she needed the money to pay for something to do with her kids. Lousy mother, her kids were both fostered out. I told her I didn’t have it, but she said I’d better find it. I gave her about a hundred that time, and we arranged to meet. I said I’d give her the rest then. I never intended to pay her another penny, but the bitch called my workplace again, so I met up with her in the café, and this time she fuckin’ asked for a thousand quid ’cause she said she knew about that girl.”

He shoved a finger at the photograph of Dorota. This tied in with Margaret’s new clothes and the visit to her children.

“So when was the next time you met up with Margaret?”

Smiley frowned, obviously trying to recollect the date. He hunched his shoulders and then said it was maybe months after he’d met her at the café. They had met at the service station, and he had given her five hundred, saying he didn’t have the cash to spare. Margaret wasn’t satisfied and said she wanted more. It was another six months before he had yet another meeting with her and passed her money. He was tight-lipped with anger, saying that Margaret wouldn’t stop pestering him and he was worried about her contacting him at his workplace. In the end, he had told her that if she gave him some time, he’d save up and give her one final payment of another five hundred pounds in March.

Anna held up her hand. “These meetings that took place between you, are you saying they came after she called Swell Blinds — or did she have another way of contacting you?”

He hesitated and then went into an elaborate, rambling account of how he used to call a pay phone at the Gateway Services, and if Margaret was around, she’d pick up.

“If she wasn’t doing business, she’d hang around the pay phones, keepin’ warm, actin’ like she was usin’ them so they wouldn’t move her on. There was an Indian bloke that worked the coffee bar at night, and she used to jerk him off for a cup of coffee and a snack, then clean herself up in the ladies’ toilets.”

“So, on the occasion when she was waiting for more money, where did you meet Margaret?”

Smiley said that sometimes she would use an old caravan parked at the back of a slip road near the service station. When he saw her there, they would have sex, and previously, he paid her between twenty-five and thirty pounds. He would park some distance away, walk up the lane, and wait until he knew she wasn’t with any of her regulars.

“I waited until I knew she was alone. I then went and drove the van right up to the stinking caravan, and she came out all smiles.” He mimicked her voice. “‘You got my money, honey?’”

He sniggered, saying he’d told her it was in the back of his van in a cardboard box. He described how he’d opened the back doors, and when she had leaned in, he’d pushed her inside with his foot. He then slammed the doors on her and locked them. He was still smiling as he described driving around with her. “Just like that Polish bitch, she was trying to unlock the cage.”

He wasn’t sure where he stopped. It was dark and would have been a good few miles beyond the London Gateway Services.

“I said to her that if she kept her trap shut, I wouldn’t harm her, and she sat quiet in the back of the cage. No more swearing and cursing. Then I helped her out like a real gentleman. I said to her I was joking and that the money was in the glove compartment. When she opened the passenger door to get to it, I came up behind her. First I got her by the hair, then I pulled her down. I wanted to stamp on the bitch’s face...”

They were forced to listen to more grotesque details of how Smiley had raped and strangled Margaret and then left her body in a field before he drove back to Manchester. He was now enjoying himself, as if the admittance of the murders were some achievement that no one had recognized.

Langton smiled and held up his hand. “That was three you got away with, John — Chrissie, Dorota, and Margaret Potts.”

“Yeah, and I can tell you I had a few sleepless nights — you know, waiting and worrying that I might have left DNA — but I was certain I got no witnesses. Nobody ever saw me with Margaret, so I felt like I’d had a lot of luck. I used to clean me vehicles with a special high-powered spray, always very careful.”

“Yes, and your wife didn’t have a clue, either, did she?”

“No. And you know something? I started to enjoy having a double life. I liked earning the extra money she knew nothing about. I liked looking at her and saying I’d be late home and then getting this adrenaline rush from what I was doing. I felt like I was untouchable.”

“But you were clever. You didn’t get rash, didn’t attempt to commit another murder for quite some time, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right. I’m an ex-Para, watch my own ass, never give nothing away, but I used to have the biggest hard-ons just thinking about what I done. It was enough. I even let Sonja wank me off a couple of times because I could remember what it felt like when I squeezed their throats and my dick was inside them. When I tightened their stockings round their necks and they gasped, it was the biggest orgasm I’d ever had. I just kept spewing out like a volcano.”

It was all directed at Langton. Smiley hardly, if ever, acknowledged that Anna was in the room, but now he glanced toward her and apologized. “Sorry, love.”

Anna was repulsed by him. His face was shiny with sweat as he gloated, and spit formed at the corners of his mouth. His big hands constantly made the gesture of clasping his victims’ throats and squeezing, or his fists clenched as he demonstrated garotting.

“So what happened, John? It started to fade, the excitement, the memories. You wanted to feel that adrenaline rush again, that volcanic orgasm?” Gregson was showing his inexperience as he didn’t attempt to stop Smiley, but sat in shocked silence.

Anna could see that Langton was encouraging Smiley to continue his disgusting admittance of how he killed.

“Yeah. I started to need it again. I am a hard worker, and with that bitch at home, I started to feel the lack of excitement. It got to be almost an obsession. I was like a hunter looking for prey — that was how I saw it. I was a hunter, and even that thought would give me a hard-on.”

Langton almost snapped his fingers at Anna to bring out their next victim. She moved quickly to open the file on Anika Waleska and placed the photograph in front of Smiley.

At last Gregson felt he should intercede, but Smiley shoved him in the shoulder. He patted the photograph with the flat of his hand. “Oh, yes. What was her name?”

“Anika Waleska,” Anna said.

He went into lengthy detail, describing how he had used the jacket and cap to appear to be a security guard, and how it helped that he was driving the dog handler’s van. He said that it had given him an added pleasure, targeting Polish girls. This was partly because of his hatred of Sonja but also, he was able to appear to be trustworthy, as he always mentioned that he was married to a Polish woman and that they had two children.

He had picked up Anika Waleska outside the restaurant where she worked. “I’d had a bite to eat there a few hours earlier, after I’d been on this bloody tricky job on Cromwell Road, and we’d chatted.”

Smiley said that he’d called home to tell Sonja he was still working on the job and not to expect him home until much later. He had said good night to his children and then sat waiting. He chuckled, saying that he always had to remember to toss his sandwiches away, as Sonja would even check the plastic container. Smiley started to give details of the corned beef and pickle sandwiches she’d make for his lunches, how much he detested the gherkins she wrapped in cling film.

“Anika Waleska...” Anna said, tapping the photograph.

Smiley closed his eyes and whistled. He said he had offered Anika a lift in the van, and she had accepted. She told him she was looking for work, as the room she shared was expensive and she was not earning enough money in the restaurant. She also said that she had worked like a slave for a domestic agency that had helped her to come to England, but after a few months, she quit because the work was so grueling, and as at the restaurant, the pay was poor. The woman who ran the agency had stolen, as the girl put it, a large slice out of her wages for rent.

Smiley lived up to his name, smiling all the time. “She could talk, this one, but she was pretty, and like I said, I could understand a lot of what she was saying because of picking up Polish from Sonja. I liked her so much I was thinking that maybe I should arrange to see her again — you know, like a girlfriend — but it didn’t feel right. I wasn’t getting the same rush, so I got as far as White City, where she had moved to, and I decided to keep her.”

He patted her photograph again. “She had no warning — took her by surprise, it did. She was about to get out, and I just hit her.”

Langton leaned toward him.

“Describe how you hit her, John. It must have been difficult to keep her from getting out.”

“Yeah. I just went like this.” Smiley swung his right hand toward Gregson, fist clenched, and pulled away just before striking. Gregson was so shocked, he almost fell off his chair.

“Wait a minute, John. If you were on the driver’s side, you couldn’t have hit her that way.”

“No, I did it with me left hand, just like this.” Smiley demonstrated clenching his left fist and giving a vicious side sweep with his arm extended. “She wasn’t expecting it. I got her right across the throat, and she sort of slumped over, out cold. I drove her away and kept checking she was out, I didn’t want her coming round. Then, when I got to a quiet area, I lifted her out and locked her in the cage at the back of the van.”

They had to listen to yet another hideous description of what he had done to Anika, raping her and dumping her body on the drive back to Manchester.

“I’d done it again, and there was nothing — no witness, even — and I was high as a kite. It had felt so good, and it was a couple of weeks before I started to calm down. I reckoned that I’d got it down to a fine art. This time I read all the papers about her body being found, and it was a real buzz to know I had done it and nobody could touch me.”

“So how long afterward did it all start up with you again?” Langton asked.

Smiley cracked his knuckles, pondering. “You know, it wasn’t like the previous times. When it started, I got a real rush from the waiting to see what happened, but when nothing did, I felt the need to make something happen, to do it again.”

Anna brought out the photograph of Estelle Dubcek. She passed it to Langton, and he laid it down in front of Smiley, who looked at it and then scratched his head.

“I think that was her. I wasn’t prepared. I’d been to London fixing up a couple of blinds, not for Swell Blinds but for people over in Shepherd’s Bush. They’d already had some fitted by the company, and they liked them, so they wanted to order more. I took the call, and I said that maybe as they were such good customers, I’d be able to make a deal with them — a cash deal. I was a bit pissed off because I had a lot of trouble making the blinds fit, it took me bloody hours, but I got three hundred quid. I was heading back toward the M1, and I stopped off at the Westfield shopping mall, Shepherd’s Bush. It was my daughter’s birthday coming up, so I went there to look for a present.”

They heard him describe how he had chosen a Barbie doll with a riding outfit and a pony. He wagged his finger. “Funnily enough, I remembered Margaret telling me she’d bought her kid a Barbie doll, so I reckoned I got the right present, and they wrapped it all up nice for me.”

He went quiet as if enjoying the memory of his daughter’s birthday and said that she had loved it; it was her favorite toy. He then recalled how Sonja had questioned him about where he had gotten the money and how he’d had a big row with her. “Can you imagine? She questioned me like a fucking Gestapo officer. Where did I buy it, how much did it cost, where had I gotten all the extra money?”

“But you were laughing inside, I bet. You had cash, you were making a lot of cash, and she didn’t have a clue, did she?” Langton was trying to ease him back into discussing Estelle Dubcek’s murder.

“No, I kept that well hidden. I just used to take all the aggravation.” Smiley was still looking angry.

“So when you met Estelle Dubcek, you had bought the present for your daughter, right? So you had a lot of cash to spare?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Where did you meet her?”

“You’ve got to understand, this time I wasn’t ready for it. I wanted to get back to Manchester in time for my daughter’s birthday, so I wasn’t intending to pick up another girl. I drove toward the M1, and just before you get onto the motorway, there’s a slip road. A lot of hitchhikers use it, they hold up placards saying where they want to go, and there she was, all on her own. She held a bit of cardboard with Manchester written on it.”

He laughed. “It was on a plate, right? And then talk about coincidence — she was Polish. I couldn’t believe it! I didn’t even have the cap and jacket on, and I just pulled up and said I was heading to Manchester and I could give her a ride.”

Estelle had gotten into the van, he said. Her English was not that good, so he had tried talking to her in what little Polish he could manage. At first she was pleasant, and then she said she wanted to get out at the next service station, as she needed to use the bathroom.

“She’d only bloody gotten in. Next thing you know, she wants to go to the fucking toilet.”

“You think that maybe she’d figured out that you couldn’t be trusted?”

Smiley shrugged. He now seemed loath to continue, biting his lip. Anna glanced at Langton, who gave a small shake of his head for her not to interrupt.

“I knew it was gonna be a problem. I’d thought about dropping her off at the London Gateway and driving on, but then talk about fucking coincidence. She says to me that she’s got an uncle in Manchester and that she’s gonna be working for him in his bakery. So not only was it a coincidence, her being fucking Polish, she’s only gonna work in the bakery that Sonja uses. It’s in the shopping precinct near our house. I couldn’t believe it.”

He was twisting his big hands, saying that it was making him sweat, because if Sonja was to meet her and got chatting, she’d find out he had picked her up, but more important, she would find out about Dillane’s van and also about his earning extra money on the QT.

“So I had to get rid of her. I had too much to lose.”

Smiley described how he had driven past the service station and Estelle had started to get into a panic, asking him over and over why he hadn’t stopped there, as she had asked. He told her that it was a mistake and he knew a slip road he could take and they could drive into the back of the service station. By this time Estelle was crying because she was frightened and didn’t believe him.

“She was really getting on my nerves, screeching to get me to stop to let her out, and no matter what I said to her, she wouldn’t stop. We got close to where Margaret used to hang out by the caravan and the old barns. She started to grab at the handle of the door, and I went crazy. I had one of the cords I use for the blinds, and I just put it round her neck.”

“Still in the van?” Langton asked.

“Yeah. She had her back to me, ’cause she was trying to get out, but the door was locked.”

Smiley lifted his hands to demonstrate how he had placed the cord around Estelle’s neck and tightened it until she fainted. He then carried her into the caravan and raped her before he tightened the cord around her throat and strangled her to death.

“I’m not into that sickness — you know, fucking a corpse — but I think she was dead when I fucked her, and it wasn’t all that pleasurable. It was the first time I knew I’d made a mistake. Anyone could have driven past, and I had to get rid of the body fast. I turned the van around and drove into a field a short distance away, and I threw her body out by a ditch. The traffic was going past on the motorway, and I got the hell out. I didn’t feel the same buzz. I felt sick.”

Langton laid out the victims’ photographs. “You have admitted, John, that you killed each of these women: Margaret Potts, Anika Waleska, Estelle Dubcek, Dorota Pelagia, and now you have also admitted that you murdered Chrissie O’Keefe.”

Smiley leaned back. “Yeah, that’s right.”

Langton looked at his watch. “We will now take a lunch break and reconvene here in one hour. We will need to verify dates and times and clarify a few more details. You will be returned to your cell, and if you require to discuss anything with your lawyer, Mr. Smiley, you may do so.”

Langton then addressed Gregson. “Your client will be charged later with four murders, and we will be consulting with the criminal prosecution service regarding Chrissie O’Keefe. If there is time, he will be taken before the magistrate this afternoon; if not, the following morning. Do you understand, Mr. Smiley?”

“Yeah, I understand.”

Langton stood and thanked him for his cooperation as Anna stacked the files in order. They left as uniformed officers took Smiley down to the station’s holding cells.

In the incident room, the team gave a round of applause. It had been a very long, tedious, and wretched investigation that at last had a conclusion. Langton held a briefing requesting that Anna and Mike Lewis handle the next session to finalize all the details.

Anna could see how tired Langton was; yet again he had impressed her with how he had handled Smiley. She had hardly said two words, but being privy to Smiley’s admissions left her feeling exhausted as well as sickened. She needed to eat to keep up her energy, so when Langton went off to oversee another case, she and Mike had some sandwiches and coffee in his office. They went through the tape of the interview, making copious notes.

“A lot of coincidences,” Mike murmured.

“According to Langton, there are never any, but even Smiley admitted to it being a big one with Estelle Dubcek, her being Polish, and not only that, about to work in a bakery close to his home.”

“Yeah, well, we always reckoned Estelle’s murder was a hurried kill; at least we got that right, but when you think of the hours we’ve put in chasing the wrong facts — like we were told Estelle would never hitch a ride, and not only did she do that, but she had a notice up asking for a lift to Manchester.”

“What about the Polish connection? Yet another lengthy wrong avenue, tracking all through the embassy. What a waste of time.” Anna gave a rueful smile.

Mike leaned back in his chair. “Do you think Welsh really did know anything about the murders, or was he manipulating us in order to get to you?”

“I think it’s half and half, really. He was genuinely interested in the case, and he’s gained a lot of self-knowledge during his time in prison, and he was always insistent about Margaret Potts being the link. So in some ways, I suppose, though I’m loath to admit it, he did trigger a response.”

“He’d have triggered one if he’d torn up the files.”

“Come on, they were all copies, and he was never left with them, they were always removed when we left. By now I think he’ll also be removed, as he’s been acting up, gone stir crazy.”

“Langton does take risks, though, doesn’t he?”

“Yes, he does. Can we get on now? I don’t know about you, but for me, it’s been a very long day.”

It was not until three-thirty that Mike and Anna returned to the interview room. Smiley was morose and often belligerent as he tried to recall the exact dates. Gregson remained silent throughout, and they finished the interview at six o’clock. They still didn’t have full details regarding Chrissie O’Keefe, but due to Smiley’s admissions, the CPS gave authority to charge him with all five murders.

Before being returned to his cell, Smiley was formally charged by the custody sergeant and informed that he would be taken before the magistrate’s court the following morning. The team was going to the local pub for a drink to celebrate, but Anna was too drained to join them. She just wanted to go home.

She had just left the station when Langton returned with a press statement already prepared. Even though he had been working flat out since early morning, having such a positive result had energized him. He was about to leave with the team when Barbara took a call. It was for Anna. Barbara said that she was not available, but then she hesitated and asked the caller to hang on. “Gov, it’s a Mr. Hudson for Travis, says it’s urgent. Is that the name of her boyfriend?”

Langton held out his hand. “I’ll take it. This is James Langton,” he said. “Can I help at all? DI Travis has just left the station and—”

Langton listened and sat down in Barbara’s desk chair. No one was paying that much attention, as they were all getting ready to leave. It was a call he wished he had never agreed to take. The incident room was almost empty by the time he replaced the receiver.

“You coming, Gov?” Mike Lewis asked as he closed his office door.

“No. I have to go and see Travis.”

“Something wrong?”

Langton could hardly speak; he simply nodded.

“Anything I can do?”

Langton picked up his coat. “No, there’s nothing anybody can do. Give my apologies to the team, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

Mike didn’t know what was wrong, just that Langton’s face had drained of color and he was visibly shaken.

“Good night, then.” Mike walked out.

Langton slowly pulled on his coat. He was dreading what he had to do, but he wouldn’t have trusted anyone else to do it.