Backlash

by Lynda La Plante

  ‘The death of Radcliff, the boxing coach and father figure, must have been a setback for him, but he had others around him at the club who also grieved the loss. Boxing was in his mind the only thing he was good at, it gave him self-purpose. The gym was his home and his family so he continued to box and then he met Eileen.’

  Whilst Samuels continued with his assessment, Anna glanced towards the window that divided Mike’s office from the incident room. She drew a quick intake of breath and looked at Mike, trying to get his attention, but he was focused on Samuels. Eventually, she coughed and at last she caught his eye. She jerked her head towards the incident room, and made a small gesture with her hand. Mike now glanced towards the window and back to her, not understanding what she was trying to tell him.

  Too late, the office door was opened and Anna got quickly to her feet, as Langton, wearing one of his immaculate grey suits, pristine shirt and a dark navy tie, walked in. She was surprised to see that he didn’t have a walking stick; in fact he looked fit and healthy, and his manner seemed very breezy.

  ‘Edward Samuels, how nice to see you again. Thankfully it’s been a long time.’

  Samuels turned and peered at Langton, who now took Anna’s chair so she had to stand. Samuels appeared unflustered and only acknowledged Langton with a disparaging nod of his head.

  ‘You don’t mind if I sit in on this, do you?’

  Mike shook his head. Samuels had already returned to his laptop screen.

  ‘Shall I continue?’ He asked.

  ‘It’s all been very beneficial so far, sir,’ Anna said as Mike nodded in agreement.

  ‘Well let’s hope it’s all worth the cost this time,’ Langton said with a false smile as he gestured for Samuels to continue.

  ‘Right. I’d been explaining that in order to prepare an effective interview strategy you first need to consider the behavioural characteristics of Mr Oates.’

  Samuels gave Langton a swift résumé of what he had already told Anna and Mike and then continued where he had left off.

  ‘Eileen Oates’s description of her life with Henry may or may not be true in parts, however I believe she lied about him forcing her into prostitution as her criminal record shows a soliciting conviction prior to the time they met. He married her because he believed the child she was carrying was his, he set up home with her and saw less of his friends, and his boxing career was not progressing. Discovering his wife was a prostitute ignited not only the belief that the child was not his but all the feelings of anger he had suffered as a child.’

  ‘Excuse me interrupting,’ said Langton, ‘but I think we are all aware of this background detail. Basically I am asking you to cut the bullshit and get to the point of your assessment.’

  ‘I don’t regard anything I have so far stated as bullshit, Detective Langton,’ replied Samuels with some dignity. ‘Yes you may be well aware of his background but what you do not understand is how or why he has become what he is today. If you do not understand someone or something then how can you possibly ask the right questions in the context of your investigation?’

  ‘That may be, but time is of the essence and as I said you are not telling us anything we haven’t already considered ourselves.’

  Samuels gritted his teeth with annoyance.

  ‘You are missing the point. During his childhood, teens and to an extent in his marriage, Oates has pushed his anger to the back of his mind, hiding it from public view, but it continued to grow in the shadows like mould on a wall. Eventually it all boils over and the backlash starts . . .’

  ‘We all get angry at one time or another, but it doesn’t give us the right to abduct, rape and then murder women and children when we feel like it!’ Langton said whilst fidgeting in his chair.

  ‘I am not condoning his actions,’ Samuels pointed out. ‘What I’m saying is that his mother and wife created in him a seething desire to harm women. He sees them as objects, mere tools to vent his anger. Tell me . . . wouldn’t you like to see Oates repeatedly beaten to within an inch of his life or maybe you’d like to personally inflict his pain to relieve your own anger?’

  ‘Too fucking right I would!’ Langton shouted, and then let out a deep sigh of frustration, realizing that Samuels had used his own short fuse to make his point. He got up out of his seat.

  ‘I need to stretch my legs!’

  ‘I believe that Oates has killed more times than you are aware of and if you want him to talk to you in interview, then you need to approach him in a structured manner,’ Samuels suggested. ‘Aggressive, accusatory tactics will not work with him. There is also the danger that if you push him too far he may have a total breakdown.’

  ‘Carry on without me,’ Langton said as he left the room.

  ‘Off the record, do you think he’s a psychopath?’ Mike asked.

  ‘I take it that you are referring to Oates.’

  Both Mike and Anna could not help but laugh and were glad that Langton had left the room.

  ‘Without a full psychiatric assessment it’s impossible for me to make an accurate diagnosis, but there are clear signs of antisocial, borderline and other personality disorders. The symptoms can lie dormant for years, then suddenly manifest themselves in early adulthood and are often related to traumatic events during childhood.’

  Samuels was of the opinion that Oates’s mood swings drifted between mania and depression. He explained that either state of mind could last for minutes, hours, days or even weeks, rising and subsiding suddenly. It sounded to him as if Oates’s behaviour on the night of his arrest and during the interviews ranged from elated to volatile, and was arrogant, attention-seeking and at times depressed. Furthermore, Samuels believed that Oates’s skill at multiple benefit fraud showed his intelligence and ability to plan a crime.

  ‘He must have made plenty of money out of it but he lives a life of squalor. Why do something you don’t seem to benefit from?’ Anna asked.

  ‘It’s not the money,’ Samuels explained. ‘It’s the ego trip of being able to do something wrong and get away with it. He probably only stopped because he became bored with it.’

  Langton returned to the room, bringing a chair in with him. He sat facing Samuels.

  ‘Why do you think he made a partial confession then retracted it?’ Langton asked.

  Samuels stared at him as if it was a trick question, but replied anyway.

  ‘This is not a criticism of DCI Lewis but the interview strategy was all wrong. Oates knew the game was over as soon as Justine Marks’ body was found in the back of the van. You went in blind so he lied about her manner of death but when you said you were going to search the squat he became visibly agitated. He then said that he had killed two other women, Julia and Rebekka. You pushed him for answers and you were aggressive, whereas he wanted to be in control, for you to show him respect and listen to what he was about to tell you.’

  Mike looked dejected and said nothing. Langton could see this and said that for what it was worth he would have interviewed Oates in the same way.

  ‘He started to admit the other murders because he thought we would find the pieces of the doll and the jewellery hidden in the fireplace,’ Anna said.

  ‘Yes, but when you didn’t he decided to really start playing games. You missed the clues, he felt in control and decided if you think I did it, prove it.’

  ‘So what’s the best way forward?’ Langton asked.

  Samuels handed him a folder. ‘You should try and connect with him first through general chitchat then gradually approach the sensitive subjects, but wherever possible encourage him to tell his story. Do not be aggressive with him, and look for any physical signs that he is becoming agitated or is lying. Oates does not know all the evidence against him, you do, so keep him guessing . . . drip-feed it into the interview,’ Samuels said and looked at Langton, inviting a reply.

  Langton handed the folder to Anna.

  ‘Best you two get on with the prep work then we can get Oates in.’

 
‘I would be careful about using DCI Travis in the interview . . .’ began Samuels.

  ‘I am perfectly capable of planning and conducting a suspect interview,’ Anna snapped.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you, it’s just that Oates harbours a distrust and hatred of women and may react by ignoring you or becoming immediately aggressive.’

  ‘Well surely that would show exactly what type of man he is.’

  ‘Yes, but it could also backfire on you with him saying nothing, but it’s up to you.’

  Langton much to everyone’s amazement apologized to Samuels for his earlier outburst then shook his hand and thanked him for coming in. Anna took the behavioural adviser back down to reception. As they headed down the corridor, she asked him about his bill, but he said he owed Langton one so there was no charge.

  There was an uneasy atmosphere when she got back to the incident room and Mike’s office was the object of much furtive attention. The team could hear raised voices and Anna was surprised to hear Mike arguing with Langton. She had never known him to stand his ground with him before.

  Barolli nodded over at the closed blinds.

  ‘Been having a real go at each other in there. It’s about time. Langton’s always stepping in and looking over Mike’s shoulder, but reality is he’s on sick leave and isn’t chief on this investigation, Hedges is, and so he shouldn’t even be here.’

  ‘Correction, Paul,’ she said, ‘Rebekka Jordan was Langton’s case, so like it or not, he does have a right to be here. Myself, I’m amazed that he is even on his feet considering he’s just had surgery.’

  The level of interest escalated as Detective Chief Superintendent Hedges now made an appearance. He grunted a brusque ‘Good morning’ to everyone before he joined Mike and Langton in the office.

  The team were even more intrigued when Area Commander Leigh also arrived in the incident room, acknowledging Anna as she did so. Mike called for a tray of coffee to be taken into his office and Joan said she would arrange it.

  ‘Getting crowded in there,’ she said with a rueful smile.

  Meanwhile Barbara came over and handed Anna some computer printouts.

  ‘What are these about?’

  ‘Your checks into Cherokee Jeeps paid off. Three hits in London for making off without paying for petrol, same model and colour as the stolen vehicle but using false plates.’

  Anna looked through the printouts. All three incidents occurred after the Jeep was stolen in Cobham, and the last one was in Shepherd’s Bush the day before Rebekka disappeared.

  ‘Any CCTV of the drivers?’

  ‘No. Usual thing with that type of crime – garage attendant reports it, no one bothers to investigate it. There’s a verbal description taken when the report was made and each one is the right age group for Oates but other details differ.’

  ‘This is fantastic work, Barbara. Well done,’ Anna said excitedly.

  ‘Thanks, Anna.’

  One hour later, Commander Leigh left with DCS Hedges. They didn’t speak to anyone, but walked straight out of the incident room. Langton eventually emerged from the office with Mike, who looked very tense as he asked for everyone’s attention and to gather round for a briefing. Anna watched Langton ease himself into a hard-backed chair. If he was in any pain he was going to great lengths not to show it.

  The outcome of the briefing was that not only would the team continue their investigations into the murders of Fidelis Julia Flynn and Rebekka Jordan, but they would also be joined by ten more officers to assist in the investigation of any other cases arising from the findings in Henry Oates’s basement.

  ‘The ongoing searches will continue,’ Mike told them, ‘and we will use the two outer rooms to accommodate everyone, so we will be setting up desks and computers this afternoon.’

  There were a lot of looks flying round the room, but not from Langton, who sat with his head bowed, staring at the floor.

  ‘It will be an opportunity for everyone involved to cross-reference all the evidence gathered to date, and let’s face it, we’ve got a lot going on,’ Mike concluded. ‘Any questions, save them for this afternoon’s briefing, which we will kick off at three. Lastly, but not least, Henry Oates will be brought in for interview tomorrow, so let’s get this show on the road.’

  Much disruption followed this announcement as desks and chairs were found and brought in, and computers set up. Langton remained sitting by the incident board despite the mayhem that surrounded him, making copious notes. Meanwhile, Anna put in a call to the Murphys. Mrs Murphy was not at home, but her husband answered. Anna asked if he could recall again in his mind the time his wife had seen Henry Oates returning home covered in chalk dust. Mr Murphy without hesitation repeated that he was certain it was two weeks before his gates arrived. Although he had noticed Oates around for some considerable time previously, he had had no interaction with him. He maintained he remembered the date because it had scared his wife and he spoke with Oates about it when he helped with the gates. He also confirmed it was very late at night because his wife couldn’t sleep. Anna thanked him and then crossed to the incident board, where she underlined the words ‘chalk dust’ and ‘Taplow Quarry’.

  ‘What’s that?’ Langton asked, watching her.

  ‘Henry Oates was seen by a neighbour that lived across the street from his basement. The same week Rebekka Jordan disappeared, he was spotted walking home at two o’clock in the morning, covered in what he later claimed was chalk dust, said that a bag of it had fallen on him.’

  Langton stared and then shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘It’s a massive quarry, and he tried to get work there, so he knows the area,’ Anna persisted.

  ‘How far from London is it?’ Langton asked.

  ‘It’s in Buckinghamshire, up the M40 and M4, not far from Heathrow.’

  Langton sucked in his breath. ‘Point being?’

  ‘I think Oates was still using the stolen Jeep. He changed the plates,’ Anna said, pointing to her notes on the board about petrol thefts.

  ‘Try me again, what is the point?’

  Anna chewed her lips. ‘It’s just supposition.’

  ‘I gather that,’ Langton retorted.

  ‘Well it’s just such a vast open space, and a good hiding place for a body, even the vehicle you transported it in.’

  He nodded.

  ‘You been there?’

  ‘No. I can bring it up on my computer for you to see.’

  He eased himself to stand upright. ‘Let’s go and take a look.’

  ‘To the quarry?’ Anna asked, surprised by Langton’s suggestion.

  ‘Yes, to the quarry, not a lot we can do until everyone is gathered.’

  Surprised but pleased, Anna agreed.

  ‘Where’s he going?’ Mike asked and Joan shrugged.

  Barbara indicated with a pencil.

  ‘They were talking about Taplow Quarry.’

  ‘What?’

  Mike gritted his teeth and glanced over at Anna’s scrawled writing with her arrows in different colours linking locations and dates.

  ‘Well so long as he is kept out of my hair that’s fine by me.’

  ‘Henry Oates applied for a job there six years ago,’ Joan said.

  Mike, still obviously very rattled, snapped back, ‘Six years! Jesus Christ, what bloody good is that to us?’

  Joan flushed. ‘Angela Thornton, the girl that maybe owned the gold bracelet found in Oates’s basement, she disappeared shortly after Rebekka Jordan.’

  ‘Get Barolli to show it to her parents.’

  Mike slammed into his office and took out a bottle of aspirin. His head was thudding, the kind of headache that cuts right across the eyes. He had accused Langton of interfering and overstepping his position, and had thought for a moment Langton was going to punch him, but instead the DCS had told Mike bitterly how he was overstepping the mark bringing in Edward Samuels without telling him. He had been, in case Mike was unaware of it, the chief investigating
officer on the Rebekka Jordan case, and as such he had every right to be privy to information now the file had been reopened. Mike sighed. Now it appeared the old bastard was digging into the Angela Thornton disappearance as well.

  Mike swallowed three aspirins, and drained the bottle of water. He was not looking forward to this afternoon and he knew he would have to get his act together. Langton wasn’t just looking over his shoulder, he was sitting on it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Langton collected his walking stick from the duty sergeant at the station’s reception desk. Anna smiled – typical, always the macho man refusing to let anyone see that he was still recovering.

  ‘How you feeling?’ she asked as she bleeped open the Mini passenger door and then moved the front seat as far back as possible for him. ‘You know we’ll be cutting it a bit fine to be back for three.’

  He ignored her flicking through his notebook.

  ‘You and Mike seemed to have been having a bit of a confrontation,’ she tried.

  ‘He didn’t drop you in it about Samuels, took the blame himself. Anything else you might have missed?’ he said sarcastically.

  ‘Nope, just that he’s been run ragged with the case and the mounting finances; his budget must be in trouble.’

  ‘It isn’t now, that’s why I came in today.’

  ‘That’s good.’

  ‘Yes, means I am still given enough kudos by the powers that be. To be honest, if this was to hit the press it wouldn’t look good for any of us, but it’d be worse for Mike as he’s heading up the investigation. Just looking out for his best interests and at first he didn’t like’– he gave a short humourless laugh – ‘quote, my continual interference, but I slapped him back down about Samuels.’

  ‘Very informative though.’

  ‘Well I am glad you feel that way, Travis, and contrary to Samuels’ advice you will be doing the main interview with me.’