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travelling up to see his daughter, so we can talk to him then.’
    Sheldon dug his hands in his pockets. ‘Well, let’s hope we get something from the PM and forensic, becausewe’ve got bugger all so far. I want the house-to-house to continue; see if anyone in the area saw or knows something.’
    He turned to Anna, pointing. ‘Yes?’
    ‘Have they said the weapon used was from the victim’s flat?’
    ‘They have not verified it, but there is one carving knife missing from the block and one found in the kitchen sink; bastard probably used it to cut up his sandwich. We are hoping to get DNA and a match on fingerprints but, like I said, we wait to see what they come up with. In the meantime, I want a significant trawling of any possible CCTV footage in and around the murder site. That’s it–reconvene at nine in the morning.’
    Anna was surprised; she had never been on an enquiry that felt like a nine to five. She’d also never seen an incident room clear out so fast, leaving just clerical and the small night staff to run the enquiry.
    Anna had intended to call in at Langton’s apartment, to collect his mail, etc., but by the time she had returned home, showered and changed, it was already after six-thirty. She knew she wouldn’t be able to avoid the rush-hour traffic on the M4 heading out of London and so accepted she wasn’t going to get to see him until way after eight. She spent the time in the slow-moving traffic going over the case. She found it all very depressing: so different from working alongside Langton, whose energy and tireless pressure on everyone around him always paid dividends. There had been numerous other cases she had been involved in, before and after Langton; none of the SIOs ever matched him, or even came close.
    Langton was waiting for her, sitting in a wheelchair inthe empty recreational room. He gave her a glum smile. ‘I’d just about given up on you.’
    ‘Well, I started on a new investigation this morning–victim murdered in her own flat. Her kid found the body.’
    ‘Who’s heading it up?’ he asked moodily.
    Anna listed Sheldon and co., and he snorted.
    ‘That stuffed shirt! Can’t stand him and that bodybuilder sidekick of his–thinks he’s Burt Reynolds. If he spent less time in the gym and more time policing…They’re all a bunch of wankers.’
    Anna grinned; he was always abusive about anyone else working on the murder teams, but he had actually summed up her own thoughts.
    Langton gestured around the empty room. ‘They’re all watching a movie, creaking and groaning around a plasma screen.’
    ‘What film?’
    ‘I don’t bloody know. I hate it; all they do is moan and groan or burst into tears all the time. It’s like a wailing wall around here.’
    He sighed and then asked if she’d got any mail for him. She apologized and said she would collect it tomorrow.
    ‘Don’t put yourself out.’
    ‘Oh, just stop this. I didn’t have the time this evening.’
    ‘I bet Sheldon closed shop at five; he’s a real nine-to-five copper.’
    She laughed and agreed; however, until they had some results from the lab and forensics, they couldn’t move in on anyone with a motive.
    Langton ruffled his hair. ‘You know, before the days of DNA and the white suits at forensic, we had maybenot as much to go on, but nobody ever clicked their heels; now, it’s all down to waiting for scientific evidence. Sometimes, they come up with bugger all as well.’
    Anna didn’t really want to get into the details of the case, but he obviously did. After receiving a brief rundown, he remained silent, and then suggested that they check out all hostels and halfway houses in and around the area.
    ‘Sounds like some nutter, some bastard that might have been able to monitor your victim’s routine.’
    ‘Yes, I’ve thought about that too; it’s quite a tough area.’
    He winced in pain and rubbed his knee.
    ‘You okay?’
    ‘No. This physio bloke massages my knee as if I was in a