Wrongful Death

by Lynda La Plante

  ‘It was Joan wishing me bon voyage. She texted that Mike Lewis threw Dewar out of the Donna Reynolds interview,’ Anna said as she started to download the DVD file of Donna’s interview to her phone.

  ‘I know, he phoned me last night. He didn’t literally throw her out but he refused to let her sit in on any further interviews,’ Langton informed her.

  ‘She overstep the mark again?’ Anna asked, keen to hear more.

  He leaned across the table and spoke softly: ‘Let her cock-ups be a lesson for when you work in her world at Quantico. Don’t jump in feet first. Listen and take advice. Dewar’s overeager to prove herself, but you’ve always got to choose the moment you step forward – you make mistakes with overconfidence and you pay for it.’

  ‘I’ll remember that,’ she said quietly.

  ‘So, are you looking forward to the FBI course?’ he asked.

  ‘I am, but to be truthful I would have liked to see closure on the Reynolds case before I left.’

  Langton looked at his watch. ‘In essence, you have. Mike spoke with the CPS last night and they approved him charging Donna this morning.’

  ‘A lot of the evidence is just circumstantial; she may not have done it.’ Anna was taken aback by Langton’s information.

  ‘For Christ’s sake, let it rest! Donna’s been caught out by her lies and by forensics. The jury will decide whether or not she murdered her husband, not you,’ Langton said, picking up his backpack and pointing to the departure screen. ‘Our flight’s boarding, I need to go to duty free, so I’ll meet you at the gate.’

  Before she could follow him her phone beeped and there was another text message from Joan saying she had uploaded Donna’s second interview and that the Gardeners’ World article about Gloria Lynne was very interesting. Anna reflected she was glad that she wouldn’t be sitting beside Langton after all, as it would give her the opportunity to watch the Donna interview during the flight. On her way to the boarding gate she popped into the newsagent’s, bought the magazine and tucked it away in the side pocket of her laptop bag.

  Once in the air, Anna got out her headphones and then transferred the two files of Donna’s interviews from her phone to her laptop. She pressed the Media Play button and reclined her window seat back a little so that she felt more comfortable, just as the flight attendant approached her and asked if she would like a drink. Why not, she thought, and asked her for a gin and tonic with ice and lemon. It felt strange, but extremely pleasant, viewing the interview with a plastic glass in her hand thousands of feet above land.

  As she watched, the dominating presence and intellect of Ian Holme QC was obvious; he was a master of his trade. She knew that Gloria would be paying for his time and expertise out of her own pocket, and estimated that his services for representing Donna at trial would be in the region of at least a million pounds. As she came to the section where Holme questioned Dewar’s experience she felt some sympathy for the agent. She had not been rude or aggressive towards Donna, or Mr Holme, but in implying she was a linguistics expert, she had stepped outside of her field of expertise and been made to look a fool.

  Anna was about to watch the second interview when she looked up and saw Langton walking down the aisle towards her carrying a large glass of whisky. On seeing him she quickly shut the top of her laptop.

  ‘Do you mind if I join you?’ he asked, and Anna patted the empty seat beside her.

  ‘Sorry about snapping at you earlier, I’ve a lot on my mind,’ he said as he sat down.

  From his slightly slurred speech, Anna knew that he had been enjoying more than one glass of whisky. It made her smile, as she knew that he was never aggressive in drink but liked to natter and put the world to rights.

  ‘Want to share your thoughts?’ Anna asked.

  He took a sip of his whisky, leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes. ‘I don’t know, I’m feeling tired.’ He opened his eyes and looked at her. ‘Before I knew I was going to Quantico, I began losing interest, started taking a back seat in the investigations I was overseeing. Strange really, win or lose I used to love the thrill of the chase.’

  ‘Do you think that is what our work is about, winning and losing?’

  ‘Course it is – we win if we find the evidence and get a conviction and if a jury say not guilty we’ve still done our job in getting them to trial. When you can’t find the evidence and a case runs out of steam, then it’s depressing, but you have to let go and move on,’ he said.

  She said nothing but took a moment to look at him. He seemed to have aged and looked tired. Anna was surprised when he took hold of her hand.

  ‘What are you thinking?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh, just how complicated a detective’s life can be, one step forward, one step back, sleepless nights, those sorts of things.’

  ‘Tell me, now you’re a DCI, how do you like to relax and forget about work?’

  She released her hand, unsure exactly why he was asking her that. He turned to face her, and again held her hand.

  ‘You still wear your old engagement ring.’

  ‘Yes. Is there a problem with that?’ she asked somewhat curtly.

  ‘Have you been able to move on from losing, um . . .’

  ‘Ken,’ she said, annoyed that Langton had forgotten his name.

  ‘Right, Ken . . . it must be two or more years since it all happened.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So have you moved on?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, exactly what I said – have you formed any new relationships?’

  ‘I don’t think it’s any of your business.’

  ‘No, it isn’t,’ Langton insisted, ‘but I care about you and one of the reasons I put you forward for the FBI course was because I felt that you were stagnating – maybe not the right word – but I’ve been very aware of you becoming a bit solitary.’

  ‘Stagnating and solitary, don’t be ridiculous,’ Anna said, offended.

  ‘No need to sound so uppity.’

  The slur in his speech was becoming more noticeable.

  ‘I’m not uppity, for heaven’s sake. I also really love my work and—’

  He jumped in. ‘What do you love about it?’

  She sighed with impatience. ‘Fitting the pieces of the puzzle together, finding the evidence, tracking the criminal—’

  Anna was interrupted by a long sigh from Langton as he stared ahead, his dark eyes brooding and shadowed with pain. ‘The energy’s going, Anna, I’m not getting any younger and I’ve had enough of dealing with the dregs of society. But this trip, if it pays off, will put the life back in me. If it doesn’t happen then I’ve lost and he’s won, so I’ll quit, retire.’

  Anna looked at him, surprised by what he had just said, assuming he was referring to Deputy Commissioner Walters preventing his promotion.

  ‘Do you think you would feel differently if you had been made Commander by now?’ she asked, knowing she had inadvertently contributed to his current position but desperate to know how much his failure to be promoted disturbed him.

  ‘It would certainly mean more money and a very lucrative pension, but right now it’s not uppermost in my mind,’ he said and took another sip of his drink.

  ‘You deserve promotion to Commander more than anyone else in the Met after all the cases you’ve solved.’

  ‘I know that, just a pity fucking Walters doesn’t see it that way. As far as he’s concerned that fuck-up with the murdering drug dealer Fitzpatrick was the end of my career. The one that got away. Even if I’d got Fitzpatrick to trial and he’d walked I’d at least feel I hadn’t totally failed.’ He gave a soft laugh, and as Anna looked at him, he boyishly ran his fingers through his hair.

  ‘Let you into a she-cret,’ he said, sounding more sloshed, then leaned in very close and whispered in her ear.

  ‘Real reason for me going to work with the FBI is to help find you-know-who, if there’s anywhere in the world that bastard is hiding out the feds will get him. S
o, I suppose there’s still a bit of life left in the old dog.’ He nudged Anna with his elbow. ‘I’ll get Fitzpatrick this time, you can count on it, and then I can get back to Laura and the kids.’

  Anna was keenly aware that the Fitzpatrick case had never ceased to eat away at his pride and all at once it dawned on her that his attachment to the FBI, purportedly to work on cold cases, was a cover for his quest to get even with the man who had humiliated him. She didn’t think he was really ready to retire, far from it, but realized his decision depended on whether or not he was successful in finally tracking down and arresting Fitzpatrick. Langton tucked his empty glass into the pocket in front of the seat and closed his eyes; eventually, he started to snore. She gave him a gentle nudge and suggested he’d be more comfortable in his Business Class seat. As he got up he kissed her gently on the cheek.

  ‘Thanks for listening, Counsellor Travis.’

  As Anna watched him weave unsteadily back down the aisle she remembered the Langton she had known and loved so deeply. Since meeting Ken and then tragically losing him her feelings for Langton had changed. They were still there, but she recognized they were no longer of love, more like a deep affection. She wondered if he would have any recollection of their conversation when he woke up, and in many ways she hoped he didn’t.

  Anna flipped open her laptop, asked for another gin and tonic and then started the DVD file of the second interview with Donna. She could see that Barolli had replaced Dewar in the room with Mike Lewis. Ian Holme spoke first.

  ‘My client has spent the last seven months believing her husband committed suicide. Being accused of Josh Reynolds’ murder, with what can only be described as spurious circumstantial evidence, only serves to further undermine her emotional state and wellbeing. She has made a statement that I will now read to you.’

  Donna sat beside him, still as he had just said in a very emotional state, crying and wiping her eyes with a tissue.

  Holme said that Donna had no knowledge of the Ferrari or where it had come from. She admitted that she had gone to Esme’s flat on the Thursday night, but this was only the second time she had been to the premises, as Esme did not approve of a stripper marrying her son and had never been told that she was Lady Gloria Lynne’s daughter. She claimed that when she went inside the flat there was no electricity so she was only there for a matter of seconds before leaving. She knew nothing about the money hidden under the floorboards. As for her fingerprints being found on some of the money: Josh had said he didn’t have time to get to the bank and needed cash to pay a decorator so she had withdrawn a thousand pounds from her own bank account and given it to Josh on Friday, 2 November.

  Mike interjected and asked Mr Holme if Donna would be willing to answer some questions to clarify the current position regarding the flat and also the identity of the decorator. After a whispered conversation Donna said she wanted to be helpful and would answer in the interest of helping the police catch the real killer of her husband.

  Mike continued. ‘Do you know the identity of the decorator?’

  ‘I saw him coming into the Bayswater flats one day when I was running late for work – well I think it was him as he was carrying painting stuff and wearing overalls,’ Donna said.

  ‘Do you know his name?’ Mike Lewis asked.

  ‘No, Josh never said and I didn’t ask. I think he was only at our flat for a couple of days.’

  ‘Did you see him at Esme’s funeral?’ Barolli asked.

  ‘I didn’t go to the funeral as I was recovering from minor surgery in a private hospital.’

  Anna noticed Donna appeared a little more relaxed.

  ‘Do you know if he worked at Esme’s flat?’

  ‘No, but Josh did say he was going to have it done up and sell it and I thought that he had.’

  Barolli asked Donna if she could describe the man and she said not really other than he was black, mid-fifties and wore a multicoloured hat.

  ‘When did you see the decorator at the flats?’ Mike asked.

  ‘It was late October, I think.’

  Anna realized that the man Donna had seen could not be Samuel Peters as Marisha had said he had returned to Jamaica in September. She wondered if Donna was lying to try and deflect suspicion away from her.

  There was another pause as Mike glanced at his notes.

  Donna leaned forwards. ‘Do you think it was the decorator that killed Josh?’ She seemed nervous and Mr Holmes latched onto her question.

  ‘The police will investigate further, Donna, and if he had access to your flat then he would know there was a safe,’ Mr Holme said reassuringly, and Donna looked pleased.

  ‘If the decorator also worked at Josh’s mother Esme’s, he could have killed him, taken the money and hidden it there,’ Donna said with enthusiasm and Mr Holme agreed with her. It was odd to see Donna behave almost childishly, nodding her head as if to agree with herself.

  ‘That would be very convenient for you and an excellent proposition but for a couple of facts,’ Barolli said as he leaned towards Donna, who appeared confused by his comment.

  He continued: ‘We know from a witness that Josh’s Uncle Samuel did some decorating for him and he returned to Jamaica long before Josh was murdered.’

  Holme could see where Barolli was going with this information and was quick to interject on Donna’s behalf.

  ‘My client said she was not aware of who did the decorating and if this Samuel returned to Jamaica then clearly Josh had hired someone else to decorate the flat.’

  ‘You’re lying, Donna. You saw the decorator in August or September and it suits your story to try and blame him because we both now know it wasn’t a suicide,’ Mike said.

  ‘No, I’m not lying. I swear to God it was October and I didn’t know any Samuel,’ Donna pleaded, and began to shake nervously.

  Mike looked at his notes before continuing. ‘With regard to Esme’s flat, did you go back there after last Thursday?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not in daylight, especially if you wanted to know if Josh was using it for an affair?’

  ‘My mother told me not to.’

  ‘Your mother knew about you going to Esme’s?’ Mike asked, surprised.

  Mr Holme again interjected and said that this fact was alluded to in Donna’s statement and she had told her mother the following morning. Lady Lynne had then made enquiries regarding Esme’s will and the property, became Donna’s after Josh’s death.

  ‘All above board and legitimate, officer, and no doubt something you might consider strange for an alleged murderer to do. I refer of course to your opinion of Donna, and not Lady Lynne,’ Holme said with a smirk, trying to be flippant.

  ‘Do you mind if I ask Donna some questions about her job at the Lynne Foundation?’ Mike looked at Holme.

  ‘Is it relevant to your enquiries?’ Holme demanded.

  Mike said that it was to do with her relationship with Josh and leaving the Trojan to work at the Foundation. Holme looked at Donna, who nodded.

  ‘You went to work for your mother after Esme Reynolds died?’ Mike asked.

  ‘About then, yes.’

  ‘Is CCS Medical Trust one of the charities you personally look after?’

  ‘Yes, amongst others, but that is the biggest,’ Donna said proudly, and yet again Anna was struck by how childish Donna appeared to be.

  ‘With I believe a turnover in the region of thirty million pounds,’ Mike said, smiling back at her and deliberately giving an encouraging nod of respect, at which Donna smiled again.

  Mike opened a blue folder and placed a computer printout of the CCS Medical Trust account in front of Donna and took out a copy for himself.

  ‘Can I draw your attention to the highlighted section, September fourth, 2012? As you can see, one hundred thousand pounds transferred electronically from CCS Medical to an account in the name of Mr John Peters. Does that transaction ring any bells?’ Mike asked and Donna peered closely at the list.

  ‘No, it do
esn’t, but it could be someone who was owed monies for doing work related to a charity,’ Donna said.

  ‘The John Peters account was opened at the end of August 2012 using, as you must be aware, Esme’s maiden name, her husband’s Christian name and their address of flat two, Brandon Walk,’ Mike said calmly.

  Donna looked like a rabbit caught in headlights as she turned to Mr Holme and shook her head. She waited for his advice, but this time he didn’t lean over to whisper and Anna could see that he was taken aback by Mike Lewis’s revelation.

  ‘Do you know anything about this, Donna?’ Mr Holme asked, almost as if he doubted her honesty.

  ‘No, I swear I don’t. Other people have access to the account so—’

  Mike interrupted Donna: ‘Yes, but they don’t all know Esme’s address and maiden name, do they?’

  ‘But I, honestly, I mean I didn’t know her maiden name or her husband’s name,’ Donna implored.

  Anna was amazed that Mr Holme didn’t interject; she could only think that he was shocked at what Mike Lewis had uncovered and the fact that Donna might have been lying.

  ‘Can you assist me, Mrs Reynolds, regarding the J. Peters transfer that is clearly connected to your work at the Lynne Foundation?’ Mike asked and sat back in his chair, staring at the young woman.

  As Donna continued to read through the document the tears started to roll down her cheeks. She pleaded and pleaded that she didn’t know anything about the debit from the CCS Medical account. Mr Holme told her that it would be in her best interest at the present time to make ‘no comment’ to any further questions that were put to her. A sobbing Donna said that she wanted to tell the truth. Mr Holme sighed irritably and said it was her choice as to whether or not she heeded his advice.

  Mike Lewis had really upped his game and it was obvious that he knew he was now in the driving seat. Anna watched intently as Mike placed another highlighted document down on the table.

  ‘September fifth, an electronic transfer for ninety-eight and a half thousand pounds for the purchase of a Ferrari. Ring any bells?’ Mike asked and tapped his finger on the highlighted area of the piece of paper.