Wrongful Death (52 page)

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Authors: Lynda La Plante

BOOK: Wrongful Death
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‘Tell me, do you think Joshua Reynolds was murdered by Aisa Lynne?’

Anna sighed as she decided to give Walters a reasonably honest answer. ‘On the balance of probabilities, I’d say that Josh Reynolds was depressed, under the influence of drink and drugs, and shot himself with his own gun. I think Aisa Lynne was in the room at the time and lied so the charity fraud and her affair with Josh would not be discovered.’ She was reluctant to say the drug was a poison called atropine as she still awaited Pete Jenkins’ full results. She was however caught out by Walters’ next question.

‘Why have you been interested in an unidentified body at Fulham mortuary?’ Walters asked.

Anna wondered how he knew about that visit.

‘Sorry, sir, what mortuary was that . . .?’

Walters continued in a sarcastic vein: ‘Within hours of returning to London, not only did you piss off Lady Lynne, the Commissioner and ME, but also Dr Harrow, who complained to the Coroner, who . . . guess what?’

‘Phoned you, sir?’

‘At last you got something right, Travis,’ Walters said with a mocking smile. ‘The Coroner also mentioned that you were spouting off and accusing Harrow of missing some poison called atropen.’

‘Atropine, sir. The unidentified body is that of Samuel Peters, he was related to Josh Reynolds and died of a heart attack. I was winding Dr Harrow up about the atropine. I also believe Samuel Peters stole large sums of money from Josh,’ Anna said.

‘You’re a laugh a minute, aren’t you, Travis? My days would be so boring without you having your bit of fun and upsetting everyone along the way. Let me get this right: you started with a suicide, which became a murder, and now you think it’s a suicide again.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Anna replied.

Walters shook his head in bewilderment and glared at her. ‘There’s something you aren’t telling me, Travis. This doesn’t all add up and by God you’d better not be fucking with me!’

Anna said nothing at first, fully aware that by lying to Walters she would be digging herself into a bigger hole and possibly ruining her career. She could argue that she had been economical with the truth, but in reality she knew that she had gone beyond the point of no return. She could not at present reveal everything she suspected about Samuel and Gloria to Walters as she still lacked any substantial evidence and feared that he would terminate her involvement in the case for being underhand. More than anything, she knew she needed Langton’s help if she wanted to arrest Gloria Lynne and have someone to defend her actions to Walters.

‘I don’t know what more to say than I’m sorry, sir, and assure you it won’t happen again,’ Anna said sheepishly, deliberately eating humble pie.

Walters came closer and closer to Anna, until their noses were almost touching. ‘It better not, Travis, or let me assure you, I will destroy your bloody career. You have become too much like Langton – disrespectful and belligerent – and that is something I will not tolerate.’

Anna knew he was being deadly serious as he headed towards the door. How she hated this man for duping her and destroying Langton’s prospects of promotion. In one impulsive moment she decided to chance her luck.

‘Have you heard from DCS Langton, sir? I deliberately avoided him before I left for Quantico – he was being very offhand with me.’

Walters stopped, turned and looked at Anna. ‘Personally, I don’t care if I never see or hear of Langton again, Travis, and neither should you if you know what’s good for you.’

Anna nodded her head as if in agreement with Walters, knowing she had touched a nerve. ‘I think he may have found out that I spoke with you about his part in the Fitzpatrick case and because of me he didn’t make Commander.’ Walters laughed with an air of scorn.

‘Well, if it’s any consolation, Travis, you didn’t exactly grass him up, as they say. I was a tad duplicitous in getting out of you what I already suspected, but let me assure you his destiny was in my hands, not yours, so don’t lose any sleep over it.’

‘Thank you, sir, I won’t, and I shall avoid Langton when he comes back to London,’ Anna lied and Walters smirked.

‘The Met’s having to implement five hundred million pounds of budget cuts as part of the Coalition’s austerity measures. One chief superintendent costs the equivalent of three constables, so you do the maths, Travis, and tell me who’s going to be culled first,’ Walters said as he opened the door.

‘A chief superintendent,’ Anna said, feigning pleasure in her answer.

‘Called Langton,’ Walters said and walked off with a strutting conceit.

‘Arrogant prick,’ Anna muttered to herself as she put her hand in her pocket and switched off her Dictaphone.

Anna took the
Gardeners’ World
magazine with her when she went down to the cells to see Aisa, where she impressed upon the custody officer that due to the sensitive nature of the case Aisa was not to be allowed any visitors. Anna quietly pulled back the sliding viewing hatch to look at the suspect, who was sitting on the plastic mattress of a hardwood bench. She had wrapped the blue cell blanket round her, but was shivering. The custody officer opened the door for Anna, who said she would only be a few minutes. Anna could see that Aisa’s new environment was having the desired effect and decided it was time to take a softer approach. She went to sit down beside Aisa, who moved a few inches away as if intimidated by Anna’s presence.

‘Mr Holme told me not to say anything to you until he is here to represent me,’ Aisa said, attempting to appear curt but failing.

‘You don’t have to take his advice, but you have to make your own choice about whether or not to tell me the truth,’ Anna said, leaning forward to make eye contact with the young woman, who turned her head away.

Anna knew that inwardly Aisa was scared. ‘Do you want to talk to me, Aisa – is there something you want to tell me?’ she asked in a calm voice.

‘My mother also told me I was to say nothing to you without Mr Holme being present.’

‘I know Mr Holme will be acting in your best interests, Aisa, but as for your mother, well . . .’

Aisa suddenly turned and looked at Anna. ‘What do you mean?’

The distress in her voice at the mention of her mother was all too plain. ‘What do you think I mean, Aisa?’

‘I don’t know. Please can I go home and then come back in the morning for the interview?’ Aisa pleaded.

‘I’m sorry, Aisa, that’s not allowed as you are a suspect in a murder inquiry.’

The look on Aisa’s face at the mention of the word murder was one of devastation. ‘I swear, Detective Travis, I didn’t kill Josh. I loved him and he was going to leave Donna so we could be together.’

‘I don’t doubt that, Aisa, but now you’re in the police station I’m not allowed to ask you questions without Mr Holme being present.’

‘Then why are you here?’

‘Before I go, Aisa, you need to understand that when I interview you I can only help you if you tell me the truth. If you lie for yourself, or anyone else for that matter, you will only make things worse and could find yourself charged with very serious offences.’

Aisa met Anna’s gaze and nodded as she spoke. Her eyes were swollen with tears, she chewed her bottom lip and Anna had a feeling that she might at last be getting through to her.

‘Has my mother phoned?’ Aisa asked.

Anna lifted the blue blanket up around Aisa’s shoulders in a comforting manner. ‘Not as far as I am aware. Do you want me to call her for you?’ she asked kindly.

Aisa hurriedly looked away. ‘No, it’s okay, I’m sure she will contact Mr Holme.’

Anna saw the opportunity to dig a little: ‘I know you’re adopted and may think that Gloria doesn’t care for you like a real mum would, but I think she does.’

Anna tried to make eye contact to gauge Aisa’s reaction but she just stared at the floor. Anna thought it strange that the young woman didn’t pass comment and she suspected Aisa must have discovered the truth, but still couldn’t understand why Gloria would tell her she was adopted.

She moved on. ‘Your mother is upset because she’s just a bit confused by all that’s happening, just like you must be.’

Aisa began to cry. ‘My mother doesn’t get confused, she gets angry when she thinks we’ve let the family name down.’

‘What does she do when she gets angry, Aisa?’

Trembling, Aisa looked at the floor. It was as if Gloria was in the cell staring at her, warning her to keep quiet.

‘Nothing, she does nothing. Please, I want you to leave me alone now,’ Aisa said, and wiped her eyes on the blanket.

‘It’s up to you, Aisa, but remember, you don’t have to be scared any more. If you tell the truth, I can protect you from anyone,’ Anna said, but it seemed that Gloria’s hold on Aisa was stronger than she had realized.

‘Very well, Aisa, but there is one thing I’d ask you to think about very hard.’

Anna paused and waited until Aisa met her gaze. ‘You and I both know your sister Donna is sitting in a prison cell charged with crimes she didn’t commit. She didn’t kill Josh, she didn’t steal the money and whoever knows the truth about the night Josh died can save her. The least you owe Donna is the truth – or are you worried that your mother will be angry with you?’ Anna asked. Aisa began crying uncontrollably and Anna knew she had made her point.

She stood up, got the
Gardeners’ World
magazine out of her jacket pocket and threw it down nonchalantly next to Aisa. ‘You’ve probably already been forced to read it by your ever-so-proud and distinguished mother, but if you haven’t, it’s an article about poisons by a very poisonous woman.’

Chapter Thirty-Four

After leaving Aisa, Anna started back to her office, now more than ready to collect her things and get home. She was so tired that as she walked through the corridor she suddenly had to lean against the wall to keep on her feet. It was as if a sledgehammer had hit her, as she acknowledged she had been firing on all cylinders and hadn’t slept properly for two days. She called Barolli to ask if he would take her home, and found herself shaking as she told him she’d be waiting in the car park. Her head started to throb and she had what felt like a panic attack as the exhaustion, combined with jet lag, kicked in. She crouched down, resting against the wall by the station’s staff entrance, in need of some fresh air, and thought she might faint. Barolli bent down to ask if she was all right.

‘Just get me home, Paul, I’ve caved in.’

By the time Barolli dropped Anna at her flat it was almost seven. She felt so wiped out she couldn’t even be bothered to unpack her suitcase, she just wanted to have a hot bath and relax. Her whole body ached and her headache was even worse; it was as if every ounce of energy had evaporated. She was desperate to speak to Don Blane and apologize for not calling earlier and tell him everything that had occurred in an unbelievably hectic day, but mostly to say how deeply she cared for and missed him. She looked at her watch and realized that it would be two p.m., meaning he would be in class teaching. She didn’t want to interrupt him, but not being able to speak to him there and then made her feel even more miserable.

She sat wrapped in a towel as her bath filled, and without any warning she started crying. The tears were still falling as she lowered herself slowly into the hot bath, closed her eyes and wondered how on earth she was going to find the energy for the following morning. She knew she still had to prepare for the disclosure and interviews, and, feeling totally incapable of moving, she remained where she was, topping up with hot water for almost an hour until she forced herself to get out.

Wrapping herself in her big towelling dressing gown, Anna at last began to feel human. She made herself some toast and coffee and carried it to her bed where, propped up by pillows, she gradually felt her headache subside as she sipped her drink. But the depression persisted and yet again she started to cry, and it was a while before it dawned on her exactly what had taken place over the past twenty-four hours. The adrenalin rush of piecing together the new evidence against Gloria Lynne, her dressing-down by Walters, her obsession with the case had totally taken hold of her senses. She replayed in her mind her departure from Quantico, or more importantly how she had left Don Blane at the airport. She regretted her behaviour, and felt ashamed that she had hardly given a moment’s thought to him and had failed to contact him. She had accepted his kindness, his advice, and he had managed to secure her a ticket and a flight back to London. She recalled how it had felt to be entwined in his arms as they made love. The unexpected had happened – she had believed it would be impossible to ever have such intimate feelings after the murder of Ken, but it had happened and now she felt disgusted that she had allowed her obsession with Gloria Lynne to interfere with their growing relationship.

It was only three p.m. in Quantico, so Anna decided to send Blane a text telling him that she had finished work and would ring him at six p.m. his time. She couldn’t resist ending with a suggestive remark. ‘Just stripped off for a hot bath, wish you were with me – if you were, what would you do?’ Anna laughed like a mischievous teenager as she pressed Send. She suddenly felt much better and resolved that she wouldn’t review the case notes again but that what she really needed was to sleep and rejuvenate herself. Her phone beeped and she was certain it was Don replying but disappointingly it was a message from Langton, saying he had secured a flight and would be back in London early Tuesday morning. Anna texted back that she looked forward to seeing him and had a lot to tell him about the case and specifically Walters.

Walters’ overbearing conduct had obviously upset her, but she was glad that his sheer arrogance had led to him revealing the truth about his feelings for Langton. Anna believed that most of Walters’ hatred was actually jealousy at all that Langton achieved in his long and highly decorated career. Langton was respected by his troops and had worked hard to get to where he was, was not afraid to speak his mind and he always got the job done. Walters on the other hand had never been what Langton would call a real detective. He had never headed up a murder investigation or any serious crime case, for that matter. Walters had driven his career forward through departments where his role was investigating police malpractice, or developing strategy and planning. As a streetwise cop he couldn’t hold a candle to Langton. Walters had always been a yes man, who gladly trod on others to get to the top. But Anna now had the means by which Langton could secure his promotion to Commander.

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