Wrongful Death (33 page)

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Authors: Lynda La Plante

BOOK: Wrongful Death
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‘You don’t get it, do you, Jessie? We are in serious trouble here. If Marisha dies, it will be treated as a death in police custody.’

‘But she wasn’t under arrest,’ Dewar said.

‘It doesn’t fucking matter, she was in a police station when she collapsed. I told you we should have got her medical attention right away.’ Barolli rubbed the base of his neck, which was tight from stress.

‘I only did what I thought was right,’ Dewar said emphatically.

‘What was right? You threatened to arrest her without a whiff of evidence that she was involved.’

‘She said Donna killed Josh and Samuel knew. Marisha’s trying to protect her brother. Question is, why and where is he now?’

Barolli looked at her with disbelief. ‘She didn’t know what time of bloody day it was. I suggest you tell Superintendent Lewis that you continued to question Marisha as you feared for Samuel Peters’ safety and current whereabouts.’

‘Okay, if that’s the way you want to play it. I’ll do it for your sake, if it will keep you out of trouble.’

An angry Mike Lewis informed Barolli and Dewar that Marisha was in a coma after a serious heart attack and still in a critical condition. Barolli breathed a sigh of relief as Mike told him that there would be no suspension from duty, but as a matter of course the Met’s Department of Professional Standards would interview him and Dewar later in the day. Mike went on to tell Dewar that the only reason he was allowing her to stay on the team was because of Barolli, and if he didn’t people might become suspicious and suspect some sort of cover-up. He also informed her that she was on her final warning, and then asked her to leave the room while he spoke to Barolli. She hesitated, glancing towards Barolli, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes.

When it was just the two of them, Mike asked for the full story, off the record, and so Barolli told him the truth about what had happened and what Marisha had said whilst intoxicated.

Mike rubbed at his head with frustration. ‘This bloody case has more directions than a guidebook. Do you think Samuel Peters is involved?’

‘Could be, but we need to get to the bottom of exactly when and if he returned to Jamaica. There’s enough to get a search warrant for Marisha’s flat, might find something that’s useful,’ Barolli said.

‘A picture of Samuel would be a good start! We should run his name with the UK Border Agency and get onto the Jamaican police, see if they can help.’

‘I wouldn’t hold your breath on either having any up-to-date records,’ Barolli remarked bluntly. Mike glumly agreed and fell silent, thinking about the case, until Barolli voiced a new idea.

‘I know Marisha was pissed and talking gibberish, but do you think Donna and Samuel could be in this together?’

‘We know jack shit about Samuel, but we do know Donna’s a liar and a thief, the CCS Medical theft shows that. We also know she left the Savoy in a car on the night in question. Mike paused for thought then continued: ‘Get Dan Ross to go over the Savoy Hotel CCTV to see if a man matching the description we have of Samuel was seen entering or leaving the building on the night of the fifth of November.’

‘I’d say at a posh charity event like Lady Lynne’s, dreadlocks and a Rasta hat would make him pretty visible, so if he was seen he’d be remembered,’ Barolli said, grinning.

Anna was abruptly woken from her sleep by the sound of gunfire and thunder flashes. Disorientated, she didn’t have a clue what was going on and sat bolt upright as her eyes adjusted to the light and she realized where she was. Getting out of bed, she saw that her alarm clock gave the time as eight am, but had not rung to wake her. She went over to the window, pulled back the curtains, and could see trainee FBI agents running over assault courses, enacting hostage situations and pumping out live rounds on the firing ranges.

Dressed in her FBI uniform and carrying her notepad she made her way down to the canteen for breakfast and enjoyed some mixed fruit salad and scrambled eggs on toast. Feeling rather bloated and glad that she didn’t have to do any physical exercise yet, she then went to find the library to use the Internet.

The library was an ugly two-storey concrete building, with a drab interior, extensive bookshelves, work desks and computers. Anna glanced out of the window while she waited for her pass card to be issued, and noticed a red Ford Mustang Convertible pull up in the car park. Looking up, the librarian spotted the car as well and commented that he hadn’t realized that Agent Dewar was back from her European trip. The crafty beggar, Anna thought to herself, as she saw Langton get out of the vehicle and lift the cloth roof up. She had wondered why he was so cagey about where he was staying but it did seem churlish that he hadn’t had the decency to tell her it was Dewar’s place. She thought she’d have some fun with him later.

Anna found a free computer desk, went onto her Dropbox and saw that Joan had uploaded the Charity Ball photographs. She scrolled through the files, concentrating on the time each picture was taken, and started to open the photographs taken from nine p.m. onwards.

Donna and Gloria Lynne were easily recognizable in a number of the photographs, as well as a host of politicians, film and television celebrities. Although Anna had not met Aisa, she knew who she was from the description Barolli and Dewar had given, plus there were some pictures of Gloria and Donna together with a young woman who was obviously Aisa.

Anna meticulously wrote down the file number and time of every picture Donna appeared in. She remembered that Donna’s Mini was on the hotel CCTV leaving the underground car park at 10:05 p.m. and returning at 11:50 p.m. Donna was clearly in a number of photographs, either as the subject or in the background, between those times. Anna now knew for certain that Donna Reynolds could not have driven her car or murdered Josh during that time period. While there was still the possibility Donna had hired someone to kill Josh and let them use her car, she thought that unlikely. Still, the fact was that someone had driven Donna’s Mini that night.

Anna returned to her room and rang the office, realizing it was four p.m. in the UK. Joan answered and Anna immediately said that she needed to speak with Mike Lewis, but Joan told her that it was not a good time as there had been a bit of an incident and DPS were interviewing Mike, Barolli and Dewar. Anna asked her what had happened and Joan said that she was not fully aware of the circumstances but that Marisha had had a heart attack whilst being interviewed by Barolli and Dewar and was now in a coma.

‘Tell Mike Lewis from me that Donna did not leave the Savoy between the relevant times and the pictures from the Charity Ball prove it,’ Anna said.

‘Well they are now working on a couple of theories, one being that Samuel Peters knew that Donna killed Josh so she paid him to keep quiet,’ Joan said.

‘Joan, you’re not listening – Donna did not leave the hotel therefore she couldn’t have killed Josh,’ Anna insisted, wondering why Joan was having difficulty in grasping such a vital piece of evidence.

‘Dewar is also considering that Donna may have actually paid Samuel to commit the crime,’ Joan went on.

Anna felt like screaming but held back. ‘Dewar is talking absolute crap, she makes everything fit her theories—’

Joan interrupted, saying it was not a wild theory and Anna needed to listen to what had happened since they last spoke. Joan promised she would send Anna a copy of the interview with Marisha and explained that the woman had said that Samuel and Donna had known each other and Donna gave Samuel money, which Dewar thought must have been for killing Josh.

‘That’s absurd. We don’t even know if Samuel was in London when Josh died and why would he agree to kill his own nephew?’ Anna remarked with disdain, as Joan continued, saying that they had searched Marisha’s flat and found forty thousand pounds cash hidden in the freezer, but nothing to indicate Samuel Peters’ whereabouts. Dewar had suggested it was even possible that Donna had murdered Samuel as well.

‘How much?’ Anna exclaimed, hardly able to take it all in. Joan explained that Barolli had asked her to contact the UK Border Agency about Samuel leaving the country, which she had already done, but they were about as much use as a chocolate teapot and as yet she still had to make enquiries with the Jamaican police.

‘Are you all in Dewar’s dreamworld back there? I really need to speak with Mike Lewis.’ Anna was infuriated at what she thought were wild flights of fancy.

‘He’s in with DPS at the moment but he does believe it’s possible – you know, Samuel using Donna’s car.’

Anna felt like she was going round in circles.

‘Joan, for heaven’s sake, there is not a shred of evidence to support that theory.’

‘Well there is now.’

‘Exactly what evidence have they got?’ Anna was trying very hard to keep her voice on an even level and not shout into the phone.

‘Barbara found a picture of a black man on a Jamaican fishing boat at Marisha’s and he fits the description of the decorator, who we now know is Samuel Peters.’

‘Along with every other Rastafarian with dreadlocks and a beanie hat,’ Anna snapped.

‘No, Dan Ross found CCTV of the same man entering the Savoy Hotel at nine fifty p.m. on the fifth and leaving ten minutes later.’

‘You are kidding me . . .’ Anna shook her head.

‘I wish I was but the CCTV footage also shows the same man outside the hotel and he clearly walks off round the corner towards the underground car park. Also,when they enlarged the footage it was clear he had some keys in his hand.

There was a pause as Joan waited for Anna to reply, but when she didn’t she continued:

‘They think that Donna gave Samuel the car and flat keys, and he returned them later that night after killing Josh.’ Joan added that Pete Jenkins had found fingerprints on the paint tins at Esme’s flat that matched those on the money under the floorboards and the money in Marisha’s freezer. Although there was no trace on the UK database, they were believed to be Samuel Peters’ prints as they also matched other prints found at Marisha and Esme’s flats.

There was another pause. Anna was wondering what other revelations were to come, but Joan then apologized for being the bearer of what in effect was bad news, destroying any belief in Donna’s innocence. Anna could feel Joan’s impatience to end the call but she wasn’t quite finished and asked if the large sum of money found in Marisha’s flat was connected to the purchase of all the new electrical equipment. Joan reported that along with a new luxury bed and other household items, they were all cash purchases made a few weeks after Josh’s death and totalled about ten thousand pounds.

Anna was completely taken aback by what Joan told her and couldn’t believe that her uncovering of photographic evidence proving that Donna did not leave the hotel actually served to compound the young woman’s guilt. Dejectedly, she realized that it was impossible to keep up with the investigation when she was thousands of miles away. She thanked Joan for all her help, adding that she would not be bothering her any more and would see her in ten weeks.

Anna lay on her bed in her room, looking up at the ceiling; she didn’t feel sorry for herself, just frustrated that yet again the evidence suggested she was wrong about Donna’s innocence. Her gut instincts were usually right, but she accepted that Josh’s death was a complex investigation. Marisha, if she regained consciousness, or Samuel, when his whereabouts were discovered, would hopefully reveal the answers to all the questions. Even without them as witnesses the case against Donna was a very powerful one.

Her mobile bleeped and she saw that there was a text message from Langton, saying that he was going to the canteen to have some lunch if she wanted to join him. She wasn’t very hungry, especially after the scrambled eggs, but she wanted to tell him what had happened in the Reynolds case and that she was taking his advice about letting it go and would concentrate on the course. She also thought it would be a good opportunity to wind him up about the car and staying at Dewar’s condominium.

As she entered the canteen she saw him sitting in the far corner, so she waved and got herself a cup of coffee before joining him. Langton was eating a tuna salad with boiled potatoes.

‘The food here isn’t up to much, unless you’re a rabbit or a health freak,’ he complained, pushing the salad around the plate with his fork.

‘Well you must be getting plenty of fresh air.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘You know, out at the condo by the lakeside, and then a quick spin round the block in the Mustang with the roof down.’

Langton nearly choked on a boiled potato as he realized Anna had figured out where he was staying.

‘I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to upset you.’

‘Upset me? I couldn’t care less where you’re staying; what I don’t understand is why you didn’t just tell me.’

‘Dewar was returning a favour as I got her a nice work flat in London. I thought you might think there was something going on between us,’ Langton protested.

‘Don’t flatter yourself by thinking I would feel even the tiniest bit of jealousy if there was anything between you and Dewar.’

Langton winced and decided it would not be such a good idea to ask Anna to stay with him at the condo.

‘I’m going outside for a cigarette,’ he said, irritated by her constant ability to get under his skin, then headed off, leaving her alone at the table.

Anna found Langton sitting on a bench, smoking, and sat down beside him. He inhaled deeply, and chewed at his lower lip, before he eventually turned to face her.

‘You know, Anna, I have cared for you for so many years.’ He hesitated, as if unsure whether to go on.

‘The time we were really close, living together, was very special. I loved you, and I know I was never able to commit myself enough for you, or for myself – call it a state of panic, whatever. You were too young, I was too old, and the time just wasn’t right. It’s all a question of the right timing in life, and I know that our separating was the best thing for both of us, you especially. I knew it even more when I saw you so in love with Ken, and I was truly envious of how happy he made you. What happened was tragic, and I even understood what that pain must have felt like. When my first wife died, I honestly felt that if I buried it, didn’t accept what had punched out my soul, I’d maybe heal and so I buried myself in my career.’

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