The Red Dahlia (43 page)

fiancée, who were still held in the cells at Richmond. Langton knew he had only few hours left to question them, so he gave instructions to apply for an extension.

The officers in the Incident Room had been updated with all the details from Mayerling Hall. They had been as depressed as the team there when nothing had been discovered and then as jubilant when the cellar was located. Then they received the news that their suspect had done a disappearing act.

Bridget stood in front of the photographs of the Black Dahlia, whose haunted eyes seemed to look at her accusingly. She whispered to herself, ‘Dear God, don’t let it happen again. Don’t let him get away with it.’

The murder of Elizabeth Short had become so intertwined with the Red Dahlia case, it was almost as though if they captured her killer, the Black Dahlia could rest in peace.

DAY THIRTY

Langton was in the Incident Room by seven the following morning. There had been no report of any sightings of Charles Wickenham. He sat in his office, depressed and angry, arranging for a new team to relieve those who had been at the Hall all night.

Mrs Hedges was allowed to leave her room to make herself some breakfast; she was asked that she limit her movements to her room and the kitchen. She sat in her rocking chair, eating scrambled eggs and bacon. She had no real conception of what was happening: just that her employer Charles Wickenham had escaped arrest. After her breakfast, she got out all her papers and began to calculate how much savings she had and what she should do if he never returned. She was astonished to find that with all the cash she had hoarded, she had over seventy thousand pounds. Rocking back and forth, she looked around the sparse room at the single bed she’d had for twenty years and the old, wing-backed easy chair. She did like her large colour TV, but apart from that, she’d had nothing new for fifteen years. They might have redeveloped the barn, but nothing had ever been done to her quarters; it was becoming more and more difficult for her to get in and out of the bath in her ensuite bathroom and for her to yank the old pull chain on her wooden-seated toilet. She had some early photographs of Emily, and these were the ones that pained her. She had been such a pretty child, white blonde hair, and wide blue china doll eyes. It was Emily she had wet-nursed and it was Emily she loved most of all. She sat looking through her cheap Woolworth’s album: Justine winning rosettes at her equestrian competitions, Edward as a boy, smiling with a cowboy hat on, and then there was one of his wedding to that nice girl. There were none of Dominique Wickenham.

Mrs Hedges closed the book; she had been on the periphery of the Wickenhams’ lives for so many years. She had no life of her own, but she had never really minded that. The family had become her life. She thought of what Anna had said to her: hear no evil, see no evil; well, she was not the evil one. Nevertheless, guilt swept over her.

It was about twelve o’clock when she took her breakfast tray back to the kitchen. She brewed a pot of tea for the officers and handed around the biscuits. She was on her way back up the stairs when she heard a faint scratching sound. It seemed to be coming from beneath the servants’ staircase. She listened, sure she had heard something, but there was silence. She continued to her room and closed the door.

Mrs Hedges sat back in her chair, put on her glasses and read Charles Wickenham’s newspaper, rocking gently back and forth.

As the forensic team arrived at the Hall to continue their search for further evidence in the cellar, work back at the lab was at full speed. Wickenham’s computer had been removed; his waste disposal unit had been dismantled; even his paper-shredding machine was taken. The collection of fibres and bloodstains also needed to be analysed. It would be weeks of work.

At the station, the officers gathered for Langton to give out his instructions to the duty manager. Still held in their cells were Edward Wickenham and Gail Harrington. They had both been allowed to make one phone call and they awaited the arrival of their solicitors. The loss of their suspect was a very big deal and they all knew it, most of all Langton. They had had no reported sightings. The hunt continued.

Langton would conduct the interview with Edward Wickenham himself; Anna and Barolli would concentrate on Gail Harrington. There was no let-up for him: he had to go to the magistrates’ court to find out whether his application to keep Gail and Edward in custody had been granted. It had: he had three extra days. That was the good news.

At two o’clock, Gail Harrington was brought into the interview room. As she and Edward had asked for the same solicitor, there had been a delay while they agreed who should be represented by whom.

Gail was obviously in a distressed state and cried as Anna read her her rights. She was arrested for attempting to pervert the course of justice and obstructing the police. She kept on saying that it wasn’t anything to do with her, she hadn’t done anything wrong. She had been shown photographs of Louise and Sharon and denied knowing either; now she was shown the mortuary photographs and given details of the horrific murders. She was so shocked, she could hardly speak.

Just over one hour later, Anna returned to the Incident Room. Langton was still questioning Edward Wickenham. She asked that Langton be called out so she could update him on what they had gleaned from Gail Harrington. Langton was not too pleased, but he and Anna went into his office.

Anna said that it had taken only one hour and fifteen minutes before Gail had made a statement. When shown the jewellery taken from the cottage, she admitted it was hers, and when shown a photograph of the brooch, sent to the station from the American dealer in Chicago, she said it was part of a set that had included the necklace and earrings, given to her by Charles Wickenham. To specify the exact time and date that the jewellery had been in her possession was hard, as she couldn’t recall exactly, but she did know that it was after she had returned from the health farm.

Under pressure from Anna, she also admitted that she had known Sharon Bilkin. She recalled that Charles Wickenham had taken her to choose her diamond engagement ring; her

fiancé, his son, was not even with them. She had arranged to meet up with Charles after she had been to have her hair done; it was at the salon that she had met up with Sharon. Anna was able to pinpoint that this appointment was after the murder of Louise Pennel. Sharon had been having some fresh hair extensions done; she had recognised Gail and had come over and talked while Gail was waiting for her tint to take. Gail had told her that she was in London to choose her engagement ring. They exchanged phone numbers, although Gail said she had no intention of seeing Sharon again. That was the end of their conversation, as Gail was taken over to the basins to have her tint washed out.

Shortly before she was ready to leave, Charles Wickenham had walked into the salon, motioned to her that he was waiting and then walked out. As she paid the bill, Sharon was also ready to leave. She asked if that was who she was going to marry and Gail had said that he was her finance’s father. Sharon had followed her out of the salon and seen her getting into Charles Wickenham’s Jaguar.

Anna surmised that it must have been quite a shock for him, not only to see Louise Pennel’s flatmate, but for her then to have come over to the car and say she was looking forward to seeing Gail again.

However, Gail had told Anna she had never seen or heard from Sharon again. Charles Wickenham had shown her the diamond-and-emerald jewellery as a taster of what she could be expecting when she married into the family, but when she was given the large white satin box, there was no brooch.

Langton closed his eyes. ‘So what do you think happened?’

Anna hesitated. ‘Well, I think Sharon smelt big money, for one; for two, she had to have recognised Charles Wickenham, and he must have known it.’

‘But she was not seen at the Hall?’

‘Gail denies she ever saw her again. She also denied ever seeing Louise Pennel at the house. I can have another go at her — up to you.’

‘Mmm, okay.’

‘We’ve not got a lot to hold her on. She says she had no idea where Charles Wickenham could have gone, perhaps Milan to his wife. She is very distressed and crying.’

‘Let her cool off for a while; keep her until I’ve finished with Edward Wickenham.’

‘How’s that going?’

‘So far fuck all, but let me get back in there.’

Anna nodded. She collected her notes and followed him out to the Incident Room. There was still no news on the whereabouts of Charles Wickenham.

Lewis approached Anna and told her that Gail had asked to speak with her. They had actually had a doctor to see her as she had become hysterical, and he had prescribed a light sedative.

‘Why does she want to see me?’

‘I dunno, but if you want to go down there, you’d better ask the Gov if it’s okay.’

Langton was wary about any conversation with Gail not being monitored at this stage, and without a solicitor present. Then again, if she did have anything that could give them a clue to Wickenham’s whereabouts, Anna should perhaps agree to see her, on the condition that she was accompanied by either Lewis or Barolli.

Anna waited outside Gail’s cell as the duty sergeant unlocked the door. Anna glanced towards Barolli to stand aside for a moment.

‘You wanted to see me,’ she said quietly, standing in the doorway. She was shocked by how haggard and sickly Gail appeared. She was sitting on the edge of her bunk bed, her body was trembling and her eyes were red-rimmed from weeping.

‘Do you know where Charles Wickenham is?’

Gail shook her head; she was biting her lower lip as the tears welled up.

‘Do you perhaps have any idea where he may…?’

‘No, no I don’t know,’ Gail interrupted, and wiped her face with the back of her hand as the tears trickled down her cheeks. ‘If I knew I would tell you, but I don’t know, I really don’t. I have no idea where he would be; I mean, he could be anywhere but I don’t know, I swear to you. I have said this over and over again; I don’t know where he is!’

Gail glanced towards Anna, and then hunched her shoulders as she saw Barolli standing behind her.

‘You asked to see me, but you must understand that without a solicitor present…’

Again she was interrupted as Gail clasped her knees and bent forwards. ‘I am telling you the truth! It must be obvious why. Because if he found out it was me, that I called and gave you his name…’ She suddenly straightened up and began brushing her skirt with the flat of her hand. ‘That’s why I wanted to talk to you, because I want to know if it will help me. I called the police, I gave you his name. If I hadn’t, you might never have even questioned him.’

‘Yes, that is correct; I know your solicitor is aware of the assistance you gave by calling the station with the information.’

‘So it will help me, won’t it? You will testify that I did speak to you. I mean, I know I tried to remain anonymous, but that was because I was afraid of what he would do to me if he found out.’

‘We are obviously aware of how important that call was, and I am sure it will be made very clear to the court.’

‘I can’t go to prison, you have to help me. I can’t, I’d rather kill myself.’ Gail stood and took a step closer to Anna who immediately stepped back. She then felt guilty as Gail held out her arms as if she needed to be comforted. ‘Please help me.’

Anna turned to Barolli who indicated they should leave.

‘I have been so frightened for so long; Edward is almost as afraid of his father as I am. He’s not a bad person; if we’d been able to leave and live our own lives, we’d have been happy. Charles wouldn’t let him go; whatever you might say Edward has done is because he was dominated by his father and forced into helping him…’

Anna gave the signal for the cell door to be closed. Gail seemed not to notice. Whether or not it was due to the sedatives, she seemed unable to stop talking; her voice had dropped to a monotone. Anna turned away, walking beside Barolli; they could hear Gail continuing from behind the cell door. ‘He had to work so hard on the estate and he was paid a pittance. He loved his sisters and tried to protect them, especially Emily. He really cared about Emily. He wanted to have children and it was such a lovely place for a child to grow up with the horses and the woods…’

Anna headed up the stone stairs towards the Incident Room, Barolli behind her. As Gail’s voice faded, so did Anna’s compassion for her. Barolli felt nothing; no amount of horror had made Edward Wickenham man enough to stop his depraved father from committing heinous crimes against young women, even his own daughters. The fact that Gail had made the call to the Incident Room, giving them Charles Wickenham’s name, would be used by her defence, and might be enough to persuade a judge not to give her a prison sentence. As it was, they still had to find Charles Wickenham and until they did, neither his daughter-in-law nor his son would be released.

The forensic team were still taking samples and collecting evidence from the cellar. The stable boys had been allowed to exercise the horses, but there were police officers surrounding the house and estate. Charles Wickenham had not shown.

Edward Wickenham constantly conferred with his solicitor in whispers. He then became morose and wouldn’t answer any questions. Like his

fiancée, he paled visibly when shown the horrific photographs of the victims. Asked about the contents of the cellar, he denied knowing what went on down there, as he was never allowed access. Asked about his own sister’s abortion, he denied that it had ever happened. He persisted in saying that Emily was mentally unstable and that no one could believe a word she said. He became agitated when shown the sexual photographs of himself with his own stepmother, but said that she was willing and there was nothing illegal about what happened.

He continued to say over and over again that he did not understand why he was being held or why they were asking him about the two girls that he had never met.

‘Because these two girls, as you describe them, were brutally murdered, Mr Wickenham.’