Wrongful Death

Chapter Twenty

The next morning, Barolli rang in to say he was running late as he’d been sick in the night.

‘Serves him right for eating that disgusting takeaway,’ Anna said, and winced, recalling the horrible smell in the car.

‘That’s exactly what he said,’ Joan giggled.

‘How did the search of Esme’s flat go?’ Anna asked.

‘You didn’t hear?’ Joan said with surprise. ‘Agent Dewar spotted a loose floorboard and they found nearly a hundred and sixty thousand pounds hidden under it! And they’ve got a witness who saw Donna there the night the surveillance team lost her.’

‘Good,’ Anna said apathetically, realizing her thoughts about Donna being innocent had just taken a big nosedive. She’d already been informed that officers were preparing to arrest the young woman that morning.

‘Oh, I nearly forgot, my mum said that her current issue of Gardeners’ World says that the next one, which is out tomorrow, has an interview with Gloria about her latest flower-show display.’

‘Your mother and you don’t have a garden,’ Anna said, bemused.

‘No, but we have a lovely collection of pot plants on the balcony of the flat.’

Shaking her head, Anna went to ring the vice squad, who agreed to come to the station to deal with Marcus Williams.

Some time later, a subdued Barolli walked into her office and apologized in a croaky voice for being late.

‘You look like death warmed up,’ Anna observed, surprised at his dreadful appearance.

‘I feel like it. I think it was the fried chicken.’

‘You’re lucky it wasn’t full-blown salmonella poisoning.’

‘Make me feel better, why don’t you?’ he groaned.

‘You’ve only yourself to blame.’

‘I’ve had food poisoning before but this was so much worse. Had a rash all over me last night, my heart was palpitating ten to the dozen, temperature hit the roof then the room was spinning round and round in a psychedelic blur. I was hot but not sweating and to top it all I couldn’t pee or sh-’

‘Enough! Too much information!’ Anna cut him off.

‘I hope I don’t fall asleep when we interview Williams.’

‘I’ve rung the vice squad and they’re coming over to deal with him so you can have a lie-down on the sofa there while I go for some breakfast.’

‘Oh, thank God.’ He was lying on his back with a cushion over his face within seconds.

‘Gold to silver, any eyeball on red yet?’ Mike Lewis asked over the surveillance van radio.

‘Negative, negative,’ came the reply from Barbara, who was maintaining observation at Lynne House while Mike Lewis was near the Foundation offices with Dewar.

‘We’ll just have to arrest Donna in the house if she doesn’t come out soon,’ Dewar said, folding her arms in a cantankerous manner.

‘Be patient,’ Mike said calmly.

‘Patient! We’ve been here for two hours.’ Dewar sighed.

‘Eyeball on white leaving premises in yellow Mike Victor,’ Barbara said.

‘Is that Gloria, is she going out?’ Dewar asked, leaning over Mike to check the coloured code sign names.

‘No, white is Aisa. Mike Victor means motor vehicle and yellow is the car colour. Gloria is blue and Donna is red.’

‘This colour stuff is driving me nuts,’ Dewar grumbled.

‘Correction on last transmission: red is with white and units on tail,’ Barbara said and Dewar came to life.

‘Received. They can keep tail and you stay at current location and await instructions to search premises,’ Mike told Barbara, who acknowledged him.

Dewar asked what he was going to do now and Mike said he’d decided to arrest Donna in her office and search it at the same time.

Dewar looked surprised. ‘Without a search warrant?’

‘Don’t need one. We have a legal power to search after arrest for serious offences like murder.’

‘That’s good to know,’ Dewar said, yet again confused by the different laws in the UK.

As the surveillance team followed Aisa’s car, they kept in continuous radio contact but it was nearly an hour before Mike and Dewar saw the vehicle go into the underground car park at the Foundation offices.

Five minutes later, Mike Lewis, Dewar, three other members of the team and a uniform officer burst into Donna’s office to find her sitting at her desk. Mike produced his warrant card, introduced himself then told Donna that he was arresting her on suspicion of the murder of Joshua Reynolds, cautioned her and asked if she understood.

A startled Donna started to cry, saying she didn’t understand as she had done nothing wrong. She repeatedly proclaimed her innocence and childishly begged to speak with her mother.

Dewar crossed over to Donna’s handbag and went through it for a set of keys to match those in the mortuary photograph, which they suspected to be for Esme’s flat.

‘What are you looking for?’ Donna asked, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Dewar looked up at Mike and shook her head, just as Aisa barged into the room and demanded to know what was happening. On recognizing Dewar, she realized what was going on.

‘Don’t worry, Donna, I will call Mummy, she’ll sort this out.’ Aisa then turned to Dewar. ‘People like you just like to humiliate us because we’re wealthy and better off than you are.’

‘I suggest you keep your insinuations to yourself, Miss Lynne, or you may find yourself being arrested as well,’ Dewar said coldly.

‘Fuck you!’ Aisa pushed Dewar out of the way and stormed out of the room.

Dewar smiled. ‘Told you she was a bit rough round the edges.’

Mike radioed Barbara and told her to execute the search warrant at Lynne House and to make sure they looked in Donna’s car for any keys that might fit Esme’s flat. Meanwhile, he and Dewar would take Donna to the station while the other officers searched her office and seized her desktop computer.

Pleased that events were moving, at least, Barbara spoke on the intercom with the housekeeper, who opened the gates. Pulling up at the front of Lynne House, the DS caught sight of a woman in green gardening overalls standing by the front door. She had never met Lady Gloria Lynne but recognized her from a picture Joan had shown her from a magazine cutting. As Barbara stepped out of the car she could see that Gloria was on the phone and had a face like thunder. Approaching Gloria, the search warrant in one hand and her warrant card in the other, Barbara said who she was and why her team were at the house. As she handed Gloria a copy of the warrant she told her team to start on the house while she searched Donna’s Mini, which was parked by the garages.

‘Just one minute!’ Gloria said sternly as she examined the warrant. Barbara stopped and the rest of her team followed suit. Gloria proceeded to read out the details of the warrant over the phone.

‘My solicitor would like a word with you,’ Gloria said as she handed Barbara the phone.

The solicitor suavely informed her he was Mr Charles Leicester and he represented the Lynne family. Barbara recognized his name and was aware that he was a top London solicitor ‘I’m sure your search of Donna’s bedroom and car shouldn’t take you too long.’ He laughed. Barbara was puzzled by his remark, as Lynne House was enormous.

‘We will be here for some time, sir, so I need to get on.’

‘From what Lady Lynne said was on your warrant, I suggest you look at it again, officer,’ Leicester said in a condescending tone.

Barbara reread the search warrant and it hit her like a ton of bricks. In her rush to get it authorized, she had inadvertently typed LYNNE HOUSE, WEYBRIDGE, PROPERTY OF MRS DONNA REYNOLDS, making it invalid, as Gloria owned the property. Gloria had a smug smile on her face as Barbara handed back the phone.

‘On my solicitor’s advice, and not wishing to be obstructive, I am willing to allow you to search Donna’s bedroom and her car,’ Gloria said, as she screwed up the warrant and tossed it to one side.

Barbara knew that she should call Mike Lewis there and then but she wanted to search the car first. On looking in the Mini’s glovebox, she was highly relieved to find a set of three keys, which when compared to a close-up photograph of those recovered from Josh’s pocket at the mortuary appeared to match. She was certain they were the important set and that the smallest key was for a garage. Taking a deep breath, Barbara phoned Mike, who was understandably very annoyed, brusquely informing her that he would book Donna into custody and she was to meet him with the recovered keys at Esme’s flat.

A short while later, DC Ross came down from Donna’s bedroom to report that apart from seizing a laptop and iPad they had found nothing of any interest. Gloria had shown them the evening dress that Donna was wearing on the night of the charity ball and they had packed it in an evidence bag.

Lady Lynne came back out to the front of the house and approached the two officers.

‘You are here as a minion, carrying out the orders of DCI Travis and that objectionable FBI woman. You can tell them that I will not allow my daughter Donna to be their scapegoat and will do everything in my power to make sure their careers are over.’

‘I will let her know that your solicitor Mr Leicester will be attending the station to represent Donna,’ Barbara replied.

‘He is arranging for Ian Holme QC to attend. No doubt you’ve heard of him, officer,’ Gloria said with a smirk as she turned and walked into the house.

Barbara knew the name Ian Holme very well. He was one of the most feared defence barristers around and nicknamed Andrex by police officers. Not because he was soft, but because by the time he’d finished with you in the evidence box, you felt like you’d been torn up and used as toilet paper.

Just over an hour later, Mike Lewis and Dewar met up with a somewhat deflated Barbara and DC Ross in the garage area at the rear of Esme’s flat. Dewar had the set of locks taken from the flat. There was an anxious look of anticipation on all their faces as Barbara removed the recovered keys from the plastic property bag, took the Yale lock from Dewar and held the most likely key against it.

‘Bit like the Prince testing the shoe on Cinderella,’ DC Ross remarked.

‘Well, if it fits, I’m not marrying you, Ross,’ Barbara replied as she eased the key forward and slid it gently into the cylinder. Everyone was leaning over her as she turned the key and the lock moved to and fro.

‘Bingo,’ Barbara said with a sigh of relief, and everyone smiled. She then tried the other key in the Chubb lock with the same success.

‘Two down, one to go,’ DC Ross said and pointed to the third key on the set in her hand.

Dewar bent down and examined the T-lock handle on one of the garages. ‘All these doors have the same type of lock and that third key looks the right shape and size.’

‘Shall I pick first?’ DC Ross said, gazing down the row of twenty garages.

Mike told Ross to shut up and for them to start at one end. Barbara got to the eighth one along when finally the key slid into the lock and opened it.

‘Here goes,’ Mike said as everyone stepped back so he could lift the heavy metal door open. As he did so the others in unison impulsively crouched down to try and get a better look as the lower rear of a car was exposed.

‘Low suspension, rear diffuser and two sets of dual exhausts. It’s a Ferrari 430 Spider,’ Dewar predicted, even before any identification badges or registration plate came into view. Mike lifted the door fully open to reveal the car, which was a 2009 Ferrari Convertible with its roof up. The length of the vehicle only just fitted into the small interior of the seemingly bare garage. Mike flicked the light switch on the wall and nothing happened, but with the door open the daylight filled the space and they could see a bike mounted on a wall bracket.

‘You were right,’ Barbara said, impressed with Dewar’s knowledge.

‘Unusual to see a blue one – that shade is known as Azzurro California,’ Dewar said in admiration.

‘How much is it worth?’ Mike asked

‘In English pounds, in the region of ninety-five to one hundred grand,’ Dewar told him.

DC Ross whistled as he looked at the dusty car.

‘Ninety-five fuckin’ thousand, bloody hell, I’d be scared shitless to drive it out of here, never mind around the West End.’

Dewar wafted her hand towards him to shut him up.

‘If Josh Reynolds’ business was in difficulty where on earth did he get the money to buy a Ferrari?’ Mike demanded.

DC Ross, eager to make an impression as usual, suggested that maybe Josh had got into debt with loan sharks and that was why he was murdered. Mike doubted that would be the case as they usually paid a visit first and beat the crap out of you or at the least would have taken the car off him.

Barbara pointed out that there was nothing in Josh’s, Donna’s or the Trojan’s bank statements that indicated a purchase or loan for such a vast sum of money.

‘Now we’ve got the car registration, we can interview the previous owner and see how they were paid for the sale,’ Mike said.

‘Donna Reynolds had easy access to large sums of money,’ Dewar remarked and the others looked at her, eager to hear her thoughts. ‘The Lynne Foundation charities – Donna looks after some of the accounts which have millions of pounds in them. A missing hundred grand here and there probably wouldn’t even be noticed.’

‘A drop in the ocean,’ DC Ross agreed, smiling, and yet again he was rewarded with a cold glance from an irritated Dewar.

She tapped the bonnet. ‘Let’s check out the charities, see if we come up with a nice round wedge going out.’

Mike phoned Joan in the office and told her to get someone over from Tech Support asap to examine Donna’s office computer and in particular the charity accounts she handled. They were to pay particular attention to the 2012 transactions for the six-month period before Josh died and to work backwards from 5 November. He also asked Joan to get a vehicle transporter sent down to the garage for the removal of the Ferrari to the lab. Joan in turn told him that Ian Holme QC had arrived, Barolli had served the disclosure and Holme was now in a private consultation with Donna.

Mike pointed out that without the keys to the Ferrari there was not a lot they could do until the car was taken to the lab and opened.

They could however check along the walls in case there were any loose bricks to hide the keys behind, but none were found. The garage was bare apart from the bike, old bits of newspaper and oily rags.

DC Ross looked up to the ceiling and it struck him as rather odd that there was no light or even wires for one.

‘A switch, but no lights,’ Ross mused, but everyone ignored him, thinking he was trying to be funny. He asked Barbara for the set of keys recovered from Donna’s car. Taking the small garage key, he inserted the tip into the top of the light switch box, then used the tip as a lever, at which point the front of the box came open revealing a hidden compartment with keys to the Ferrari.

‘Am I good or am I good?’ Ross said, taking a bow.

‘Irritating… but good,’ Mike conceded.

A cursory search of the car revealed no driving, insurance or registration documents or anything else of value to the investigation. Nobody was inclined to continue beyond that, so as not to destroy possible evidence from fingerprints and DNA.

Mike and Dewar departed to head back to the incident room, leaving Barbara and DC Ross waiting at the garage for the arrival of the tow truck.

‘Imagine it, nearly a hundred thousand quid, you could put that down on a mortgage for a house, or a flat,’ Ross said wistfully.

‘Yeah, but if you’ve got the money, it’s a different thought process – young rich City blokes have all got Bentley’s and Porsches. Me, I’d be happy with a convertible Mercedes but I would need a sugar daddy to get one.’

‘Maybe he had a rich girlfriend,’ Ross said, yawning.

‘He had a rich wife and his mother-in-law is loaded, she was left millions.’

Ross turned to look back at the Ferrari: even with a light film of dust it had a gleaming power, far out of his league, but given the choice he would have had a red one.