It was half past six and in the red-light district the girls were on the streets. Anna, back behind the wheel, was so tired she could feel her eyelids drooping. Of course, it would be way after midnight, London time. Langton seemed not to flag at all. He suggested dropping Anna back at the motel, while he took Tom to a few bars for an evening out.
Anna felt irritated, because she knew she was being dismissed. But back at the motel, she felt relieved. She went to the hotel restaurant for a hamburger and then straight to her room. She checked the route on the LA freeway map before bed. The following day was going to include a long drive.
Langton, meanwhile, was bar hopping with Tom Delaware. Or, as Tom described it, ‘girl shopping’. At first he wondered if Langton was looking for himself, but he soon realized he wasn’t. By the time they reached Joe’s Restaurant in a really rough area, Taylor Street at Turk Street, Tom’s feet ached and he was hungry. As they leaned back in their comfortable black-burgundy leatherette booths, Langton asked Tom if he recalled there being a film unit in the area at the time Trixie was murdered.
Tom didn’t, but he put in a call to an ex-cop pal who supplemented his pension by working as a location manager for film units. They talked more over supper as they waited for him. At midnight, he arrived and over coffees, the photograph of Alan Daniels was again produced.
Anna woke with a start. There had been a loud crash from the room next door. She looked at her watch: it was half past three. Another crash. She suspected this one was the fall of the ironing board. So he not only slammed his office door, he knocked over everything no matter where he was. Next, the toilet flushed. That was followed by more bangs and thuds. She heard Langton swear a few times, then there was the clicking of lights being switched off. Then on, then off; she couldn’t keep track.
Then, finally, silence. She found it difficult to go back to sleep. Perhaps because now, in London, it would be late morning.
She got up reluctantly and had another shower to wake up properly. At five o’clock, she lay down and closed her eyes, thinking what she would order for breakfast. She woke with a start. She thought she had heard a fire alarm. But the noise was coming from next door. Langton was obviously up and taking a shower. She decided she might as well dress and join him for breakfast.
She knocked on his door. He yanked it open.
‘I was wondering if you wanted breakfast,’ she said, avoiding looking at him. He was wearing just a towel slung round his hips and holding a muffin in his hand. She could see he was fit, his stomach was tight and he had a hairy chest; not too much, but it was as dark as his head hair, which was standing up on end. She remembered Pamela Anderson saying he used to be very athletic. Nevertheless, it surprised her that he was so lean and in such good shape.
‘What?’ he barked.
‘I’m going to breakfast,’ she said lamely.
He indicated his muffin. ‘See you at the desk at eight.’
‘I’ll see you down there,’ she said, turning back to her room.
He slammed the door shut. She didn’t see him wince; he had a hell of a hangover and felt terrible.
Anna was at the wheel of the car, studying a highway map, when he walked across the hotel car park. He opened the boot and put his suit bag in it. He then got into the passenger seat.
‘Do you know where we are going?’
‘Los Angeles,’ she said.
‘Correct. Do you need me to direct you?’
‘No, I’ve checked out the map. It’s mostly straight on the freeway, all the way there.’
‘Good.’
‘Well, all set then?’ she asked.
He nodded wearily.
‘Have a good time last night?’
He closed his eyes. ‘I was working, Travis. What did you think I was doing, partying with Delaware?’
‘Did you eat?’
He sighed. ‘Yes, Mother. Now, can we get started? I’m going to lie down for a bit.’
As she drove out of the car park, he pulled the seat lever so he could lie almost prone beside her. Anna took a while to find the right turn on to the freeway, but found she quite enjoyed driving up and down the hills. At least she was finally seeing some of the sights of San Francisco.
They stopped to fill up the car with petrol and then continued on the freeway. It was an experience she was enjoying, when he woke with a start.
‘We nearly there?’
‘Not yet,’ she said. He eased his seat into an upright position and was suddenly alert.
‘I talked to a lot of the street hookers last night, Travis, not to mention a few pimps. I showed them all his photo. Didn’t get any result.’
‘Should you do that? I mean, what if someone recognizes him?’
‘That was the point, Travis. Tom Delaware called in a friend who works for a company that finds locations for film units.’
He was staring ahead, in concentration: ‘The film Alan Daniels was on mostly used the marina. The cast lived in big trailers, didn’t use hotels. But he recognized the face.’
‘And?’
‘He was there around the time she was last seen alive. They had been shooting for four days, then stayed on another two. By the time her body was found they’d gone to another location.’
She was still listening intently as they drove on.
‘He said the crew were known to have been to the red-light district and a lot of the hookers went to where they were filming, touting for business. They had drivers and limos for the actors, but a number of hire cars to go sightseeing when they weren’t wanted on the set.’
Anna recalled that the only witness had seen a car but was unable to give any detail of the make or registration.
‘So all we know for sure is that Daniels was there and he would have had the opportunity,’ she said. ‘He may have even seen Trixie around the film set, then picked her up on the night she disappeared.’
‘Yeah, that’s it,’ he sighed. Tom Delaware was going to check whether Alan Daniels had hired a car. None of the film crew or artists were ever questioned by the SFPD; however, it was so long ago, he doubted that they would even remember.
He fell silent. ‘Long way to come, for what we basically already knew.’ He sighed deeply and rested his arm along the back of her seat. ‘You drive well, Travis,’ he observed after a moment.
‘Thank you. Wasn’t that the reason you wanted me along?’
He didn’t reply. She could feel the heat of his arm behind her shoulders. ‘I know it’s him and his victims are getting younger. Trixie was only twenty-four; Melissa just seventeen.’
‘I thought you’d taken Melissa out of the equation,’ she said. He withdrew his arm.
‘No, I haven’t. He’s a really clever son of a bitch. First he says he destroyed his dental records, or lost them. Next we find them; it looks suspicious and he simply says he forgot where they were.’
‘But he didn’t know we would get a search warrant, did he?’
He snorted. ‘Come on, he’s brought in for questioning about seven murders. If he’s our man, he’s going to be bloody sure we’ll want to search his place. I think he just planted them to get us off the scent.’
‘It’s possible,’ she said, not really believing it.