Wrongful Death

Chapter One

‘Good morning, nice to see you all hard at work,’ Detective Chief Inspector Anna Travis said cheerfully as she made her way across the newly refurbished major incident room in Belgravia Police Station. Both Joan Falkland and Barbara Maddox, busy setting up computer equipment, turned sharply on hearing her voice. Taken aback by her tanned glowing appearance, their jaws dropped.

‘Oh, ma’am, it’s so good to see you and you look so well. I told my mum last night that I felt it in my waters you’d be heading up our next case,’ gasped Joan.

‘Well, your waters were right,’ Anna said, smiling at the detective constable’s choice of words.

‘You look stunning,’ Barbara Maddox conceded enviously as she looked Anna up and down.

‘I finally took some leave and had the voyage of a lifetime sailing around the Aegean. I only got back last night.’

‘Bit young for a cruise, aren’t you?’ Barbara remarked.

‘It was a large clipper yacht not the QE2, Barbara. So who’s the DI on the team?’ Anna asked.

‘I am. Believe it or not, they finally promoted me,’ a voice from behind her replied.

Anna, recognizing the voice, turned to see Paul Barolli with a proud grin across his face coming out of the DI’s office. She immediately noticed how neat and tidy he looked in a new pinstripe woollen suit, white shirt, red tie and well-polished brogues. She was surprised that Paul had recovered so quickly since the serial killer Henry Oates had shot him the previous October.

‘It’s well deserved and I’m glad to see you’re fully fit again.’

‘Doctor advised me to stay off a bit longer but I was bored to tears sitting at home doing nothing,’ Paul told her.

‘So who’s replaced you as the team DS?’ Anna enquired.

‘Now you really are in for a surprise,’ Joan said.

‘I can answer for myself, Joan, and my promotion was also well deserved,’ Barbara said tersely.

‘I’m sure it was, Barbara, and well done. I’ve no doubt Paul will give you the benefit of his experiences as a former DS,’ Anna said.

‘My office door is always open for advice, Barbara,’ Paul added.

‘It will never be closed now,’ Joan muttered under her breath.

Anna asked if anyone knew anything about the case they were to investigate but everyone shrugged their shoulders. All she herself knew was that she’d got back late last night to find an answerphone message left by Detective Chief Superintendent James Langton, requesting her to be at the Belgravia station for a 10 a.m. case briefing. Joan remarked that all the office equipment was new and state-of-the-art. Barolli wondered if the case was a sensitive one, only to be discussed within the four walls of the incident room.

‘Has Langton appointed a superintendent on this team?’ Anna asked Paul.

‘Not that I know of; be great if it was Mike Lewis.’

Although Anna had enjoyed working alongside Mike Lewis on a number of cases, she doubted it would be him, as he was now overseeing all the murder teams in North London following his recent promotion. She wondered if Langton himself, seeing as he was being so secretive, would head up the inquiry.

Anna could not help but be impressed by the new high-tech incident room and the abundance of computer screens on every officer’s desk. Instead of the traditional incident-room board, on which all details of the case were pinned, there was a huge plasma touch-screen monitor, which would be used to load information and photographs direct from any one of their office computers. Paul said that one of the local officers had told him the whole office had been gutted, rebuilt, decorated and furnished in just over three months.

Intrigued, Anna couldn’t wait to see her office and was instantly struck by how plush it was, with a modern computer desk and chair, a two-seater sofa and two armchairs placed around a small coffee table. It all made her wonder not only why everything was brand-new but also who, in times of major police budget cuts, had authorized this kind of spending. Sitting down at her desk she began to check through her work e-mails that had piled up during her holiday leave, but before long she was interrupted by the beep of her mobile. It was a text message from Langton saying he was running an hour late. Exasperated but not surprised, she went into the main office to tell everyone.

Shrugging at her news, Paul Barolli headed into his office and Anna followed. ‘Do you have time for a catch-up?’ she asked.

‘Come on in,’ he said proudly. Anna smiled, knowing that this was the first time in his career that he had had an office of his own.

‘It’s not as glamorous as yours, but I’m well pleased,’ he said, pulling out a chair for her, then walking behind his desk to sit opposite.

Anna looked around and noticed there were pictures on the walls of classic sports cars.

‘It’s nice, but why all the photographs of cars?’

‘Classic cars are my hobby,’ he said proudly. ‘So, have you seen Langton recently?’

Anna nodded, somewhat amazed that you could work with someone for so many years without knowing about a personal interest such as this.

‘After the Oates case, I went back to cold casework at the Yard and bumped into him a few times in the canteen. You?’ she asked.

‘It’s been a while, but he came to see me in hospital after Oates shot me and then at home when I was on sick leave. Last time, he brought me a big bottle of malt whisky. Said it was the best medicine money could buy.’ Barolli chuckled.

An hour later found Anna and Paul deep in discussion with the rest of the team when Langton finally made his appearance. He looked as if he had taken a well-earned rest; he was tanned and had lost weight, his hair longer. Everyone welcomed him, Barbara remarking to Joan that the new hairstyle suited him – he had always worn it in a crew cut, but now it was combed back, making him look younger. He stood in front of everyone, beaming, and apologized for keeping them waiting, then loaded a USB stick onto a computer and asked them all to gather round.

‘How do you like the new office?’ he demanded as he quickly removed his suit jacket and hung it over a chair. Everyone nodded in approval and commented how modern it was.

‘Well, I’m glad that’s the case as this is the first of its kind under a new modernization scheme for the Met Homicide Command,’ Langton informed them.

‘So every murder team across London is going to get equipment like this?’ Barbara asked.

‘Eventually. This however is your new working home and you will be permanently based here.’

‘I live in Harlow. It will be a three-hour round trip every day and if they stop our free rail travel the cost will be astronomical,’ Barbara blurted angrily but Langton ignored her.

‘You’re probably all wondering what your new case is,’ he said as he opened his briefcase, removed a file and placed it on the table.

Anna was slightly irritated that he hadn’t discussed the details with her before informing the team, but she let it go for now.

Langton touched the large plasma screen and a picture came up of a handsome light-skinned, mixed-race man. Langton informed the team that their victim Joshua Reynolds had been age thirty-one, and married to Donna Reynolds, now twenty-seven, and he had died just over six months ago from a single gunshot wound to the head. At the time of his death, Reynolds was co-owner of a club called the Trojan.

As Langton spoke, Anna whispered to Joan to run Reynolds’ name on the major investigation database. Quietly, Joan typed in the victim’s details but could find no sign of anyone by that name having been the subject of a murder investigation.

‘Excuse me, sir, but there doesn’t appear to be a computer record concerning the murder of Reynolds,’ Anna said.

If Langton was annoyed by the interruption he didn’t show it. ‘That, DCI Travis, is because he was believed to have committed suicide and the inquiry was dealt with on Borough by the local detective inspector. It has since been alleged that he may have been murdered and I have decided that the allegation will be properly investigated. Treat it like you would a cold case.’ He held up the thin case file.

‘There is not much contained here other than scene photographs, copy of a suicide note found on his laptop, a statement from his wife who discovered the body, pathology and closing report by DI Paul Simms.’

Anna knew Paul Simms well; he was an openly gay officer whom she had previously worked with on the Alan Rawlins murder. She had found him to be a dedicated and competent officer and doubted he would have made mistakes or come to the wrong conclusions in this case.

‘Has the Coroner’s inquest hearing been held?’ Anna asked.

‘Yes, just over a month ago…’

‘And the verdict was?’ Anna enquired.

‘Suicide,’ Langton replied.

‘And the new evidence that has come to light is…?’

‘I was about to inform you all so if you would kindly let me finish, DCI Travis.’

Langton then brought up a mug shot of a black male that bore the caption: Delon Taylor, age twenty-eight years.

‘Taylor is currently in custody at Belmarsh Prison awaiting trial for armed robbery and serious assault on a police officer. He has told one of his guards that he has information that Joshua Reynolds was murdered. And before you ask, Travis, Taylor’s allegation was only made last week and he refuses to say any more until he speaks to a murder squad detective. It may well be a totally unfounded allegation.’

‘Is Taylor going to be pleading guilty?’ Barolli asked.

‘It would appear so, yes,’ Langton replied, becoming irritated with the obvious lack of enthusiasm from the team.

‘So he could be making it up. Looking for a way to get a reduced sentence?’ Anna remarked, to nods of agreement from around the room.

‘There’s no deal on the table. If it’s lies then he gets nothing and will be prosecuted for wasting police time,’ Langton snapped.

‘Will you be overseeing the inquiry personally, sir?’ Joan asked.

‘No, and as yet I haven’t decided who will be.’

Anna was somewhat confused, as the case didn’t really seem to merit Langton’s involvement, but now he was in effect stating that he had no interest in it himself. Then he gave his reason. Smiling, he gestured to everyone and said that he would not be overseeing the inquiry because he had been given a rare opportunity to be seconded to the Federal Bureau of Investigation in the United States for a year. He was to work at the Quantico Academy, specializing in the study of serial killers, alongside some of the most highly regarded and experienced agents who had made their careers creating offender profiles. His enthusiasm was obvious as he revealed he would also be working on unsolved cases at Quantico.

Anna couldn’t help but smile – sometimes he was so childlike, beaming from ear to ear, unable to disguise his pleasure at what this invaluable opportunity meant to him. Everyone was congratulating him, but Anna was also slightly disappointed. It was almost as if he was retiring from the Met and although he expressed his eagerness to go, it didn’t feel right.

Langton had always been an old-school detective, often politically incorrect, abrupt and averse to new policies or procedures. Obstinate he could be, yet he had a suppleness about him, not only in the way he bent the rules, but also in how he treated his colleagues. There was one thing no one could or would ever deny and that was that James Langton got results.

Anna knew that he had ruffled a few high-ranking feathers along the way. Most notably, since his promotion to chief superintendent, those of Deputy Commissioner Walters over the case of Anthony Fitzpatrick, a notorious drug dealer and murderer, or ‘the one that got away’, as Langton referred to him. More recently, there was the shooting of Paul Barolli during the escape from custody of the serial killer Henry Oates. Walters had been appointed to investigate Langton’s alleged breaches of discipline in both cases.

Walters had really given Anna a grilling to establish exactly what had occurred in the Fitzpatrick case. Langton had warned her to keep her mouth shut about the mishandling of evidence that would have led to the capture of the highly elusive drug dealer. Anna knew she had been at fault and Langton had warned her at the time that it was a possible career-ending fiasco, but assured her that he would resolve the entire screw-up. Initially, it had appeared that he was as good as his word as Walters accepted Langton’s version of events. However, a year later the Deputy Commissioner called in Anna just as she was being fast-tracked for promotion, for what he misleadingly called an ‘off the record’ meeting, in which he duped her into believing he already had all the details regarding the Fitzpatrick mess. The truth was that the notorious drug dealer had had the audacity to walk into the team’s incident room posing as an FBI agent, thereby gaining information about where his stolen drugs were hidden. He committed three murders and then to top it all evaded arrest by flying off in his own plane with his haul of drugs, worth millions, and his young son on board.

For Anna, Fitzpatrick’s escape had been an unforgettable moment. She had witnessed at first hand Langton’s fury, which escalated further when she admitted that she had actually seen a photograph of the plane at a country cottage owned by the dealer’s brother and had failed to connect it to their suspect.

Although Anna had inadvertently let it slip to Walters that mistakes were made during the Fitzpatrick investigation, she never confessed her own concerning the plane, or revealed that Langton was present in the murder squad office when Fitzpatrick had posed as an FBI agent. She had always felt somewhat relieved that the Deputy Commissioner never reopened the case against Langton. She could only surmise that Walters still felt there was not enough evidence for disciplinary action.

Similarly in the Oates case, Langton had ensured that everyone on the team was ‘singing off the same hymn sheet’. When interviewed by Walters, they all stuck to the story that the sudden atrocious turn in the weather could not have been foreseen and had led directly to Oates’s opportunity to escape. Langton actually told Walters he saw it as ‘an indiscriminate act of God’ and played on the fact that the suspect was quickly rearrested and had confessed to a number of murders. Anna knew deep down that Walters was Langton’s nemesis and the real reason behind his failure to make Commander. However, Langton’s promotion was a subject she had decided to never again raise in his presence for fear he would discover she’d unwittingly betrayed him to the Deputy Commissioner. That would be something he could never forgive.

Many cherished moments had passed between Anna and Langton and they had both known their own tragedies; Langton with the sudden death of his first wife, and Anna herself when a prison inmate murdered her beloved fiancé, Ken. She had fought to salvage her career, and had even worked alongside Langton since the Fitzpatrick case, but he had never been as friendly or as close to her – in fact the reverse. He appeared to be watching her progress as she rose quickly through the ranks, as if loath to ever again become emotionally involved.

Anna had not worked with Langton since the Oates inquiry. She had no current personal relationship or could even contemplate one. Work had become her priority and her whole life, and she had managed to earn the respect of all her colleagues. However, this new case Langton had given them just didn’t sit right with her. To reopen a suicide as a cold case, because of a spurious allegation from an untrustworthy source like Delon Taylor, was highly irregular. Anna knew Langton better than anyone and was suspicious that there was a hidden agenda to his allocating an apparently simple case of suicide to a highly experienced murder team. She wondered if Langton had some personal connection. If that was the case, as the DCI she needed to know before he left the office.

‘Could have a quick word with you?’ she asked him.

‘As it happens there a couple of matters that I need to speak to you about,’ Langton said as he removed his jacket from the chair.

‘We can use my office then,’ Anna said, starting to head that way.

‘I’ve got to go to the US Embassy in Grosvenor Square for a meeting at their FBI office. I will be back about four p.m. and we can talk then. In the meantime, you can get cracking uploading the Reynolds case onto the computers, he threw at her as he turned away.

‘Well that should take up about ten minutes of our time,’ Anna retorted, irritated.

‘That’s a nice glowing tan you’ve got, hides the red face when you’re annoyed with me.’

Langton was quickly out the door, leaving Anna even more convinced he was hiding something from her.