Wrongful Death

Chapter Two

Deciding that she might as well make good use of her time until Langton returned, Anna picked up the file Paul Simms had prepared on Joshua Reynolds’ death. Although the contents were sparse, it seemed to her the verdict of suicide was correct. She knew that if the Coroner had any doubts he would have given an open verdict or requested a more in-depth police inquiry.

Anna spread out the scene photographs across her desk. Reynolds was lying beside the sofa on his right side with his right arm outstretched in front of him, the revolver still in his hand. His knees were in an almost foetal position and on the left temple there was a bullet exit wound. There was a very large pool of blood around Reynolds’ head and upper torso, which his white shirt had soaked up like blotting paper. Blood spatter, along with brain and skull tissue, was distributed on the seat and upright cushions of the sofa. Amongst the postmortem photographs, one showed a bullet entry wound to the right temple. The wound had many pinprick-sized black burns around it, indicating a close-range shot. The exit wound, the pathologist’s report remarked, indicated the gun being held by the victim at a slight upward angle. The forensic swabs taken from Reynolds’ right hand revealed heavy traces of firearms residue and were consistent with him pulling the trigger. The wall safe in the bedroom fitted wardrobe was open and contained four loose bullets, which were the same kind as the single empty cartridge case in the gun. Firearms residue matching that on the gun and Reynolds’ body was found in the safe, indicating it had been kept there. His blood alcohol level was high, indicating he was drunk at the time he shot himself. The pathologist’s report concluded death by injuries to the head from a gunshot wound. From the state of rigor mortis the pathologist estimated the body had been dead between eight to twenty hours prior to its discovery at midday on the sixth of November.

Anna didn’t have the enthusiasm to read through what little else there was in the case file, as the pathology and forensic reports spoke for themselves. Like the rest of the team she was finding it hard to work up any interest and she was deeply annoyed that Langton, for reasons she was unable to fathom, had lumbered her with such an open-and-shut case of suicide. There was a knock at her door and Paul Barolli entered.

‘We’ve finally got all the computers set up and linked, so if I can take a copy of the file we can get the contents uploaded.’

‘By all means take a copy for yourself and a couple for the office but hold off on the upload for now,’ Anna told him.

‘I thought DCS Langton wanted it treated as a cold case investigation and put on the computer system.’

‘I know what he said, Paul, but honestly, read the file and tell me if there’s something I’m missing. Reynolds even left a suicide note on his laptop.’

‘Why has Langton given us this case then?’

‘I haven’t a bloody clue. The sooner we interview Delon Taylor the quicker we can be freed up for a proper murder investigation. You and I will pay him a visit in Belmarsh.’

‘You want me to go with you?’

‘Well you are my number two now.’

‘You think Taylor is lying?’

‘We won’t know until we speak to him.’

Anna handed Paul the file and followed him back into the main office.

‘Right, listen up,’ she said, attempting to hide her own frustration. ‘I know you are all feeling a bit down-hearted, what with all this wonderful new technical equipment and no case to play with. DI Barolli and I will see Delon Taylor tomorrow and hopefully by the next day we will be free to take a live case. I know you all kindly came in at seven a.m. this morning to set up the office, and it’s nearly three p.m. and-’

‘Don’t tell us there’s no overtime, ma’am!’ the voice of Detective Dan Ross shouted jovially from the back of the room, resulting in a chorus of laughter from the team.

‘Ten out of ten,’ Anna said with a wry smile to the detective, a dapper dresser in his early thirties who was renowned as the office joker.

‘For you, ma’am, we’d work for nothing,’ he said.

‘Go on, bugger off, the lot of you,’ Anna said, knowing that whatever the outcome of the interview with Taylor, this team had already gelled and, she felt, accepted her as their leader.

It was just before four p.m. when Langton finally walked into Anna’s office with a cup of coffee in each hand, sitting himself down in one of the comfortable armchairs and putting the cups on the small coffee table.

‘White no sugar for you, as I recall.’

‘Thanks.’ Anna went over to join him, sitting opposite on the sofa.

‘Any Scotch?’

‘No. But I’ll put it on the shopping list.’

‘Where is everyone?’

‘They’d all done their eight hours so I told them to call it a day.’

‘Good. They’ll have to get used to it as there’s no overtime allocated to this case.’

‘So this new state-of-the-art office is budget money well spent, is it?’ Anna enquired.

‘I knew this was going to be the first of the new high-tech murder investigation offices and I pulled a few strings to make sure your team was permanently based here.’

‘Is it a fixed post for a DCI as well?’

‘Yes, and before you get on your high horse, you’ve worked with nearly everyone out there. They respect you and above all you know how to motivate them. The best team for the best SIO.’

Anna leaned forward with a sharp grin and looked Langton directly in the eye.

‘Please don’t flatter me, James. I know you too well. The best team with the best office and SIO, I’ll give you, but why lumber us with a crap job?’

‘If I gave the team a case before this office opened I couldn’t guarantee to get you based here. The Reynolds thing is just something to tide you over and shouldn’t take long to put to bed. Anyway, there were no live murder cases to allocate you.’

‘I know you’re hiding something. Joshua Reynolds isn’t some long lost relation or friend of an auntie’s uncle twice removed, is he?’

Langton now mimicked Anna, leaning forward with a grin and staring her in the eye.

‘How would you feel about joining me…?’

‘You can’t fob me off with dinner.’

‘I meant at Quantico.’

Her jaw dropped in surprise. ‘Joining you! At the FBI Academy?’

‘There’s a place that’s just become available on their Senior Command course. But if you have too much on your plate at the moment then…’

‘Not at all, I’d love to do it!’ Anna exclaimed.

Langton stared at her and nodded.

‘Good. Sorry it’s short notice but we leave in eleven days on the Thursday-morning flight from Heathrow. It’ll mean being away for nearly three months. Well, for you. As you know, I will be staying on longer.’

‘Thank you, but why me?’

‘Well, Mike Lewis was supposed to be going but he pulled out after his daughter was in a car accident last week…’

‘Elisa? She’s only twelve, please tell me it isn’t serious,’ Anna said, shocked at the news.

‘No. A drunken cyclist hit her on a zebra crossing. Broken leg, a few cuts and bruises, but she’ll be fine.’

‘That’s a relief. I hope Mike doesn’t mind me taking his place.’

‘Of course he won’t. Anyway, he’s pencilled in for the next course and I knew that you had no current commitments. I told Deputy Commissioner Walters you’d be the best replacement for Mike and he agreed.’

‘Thank you, it’ll be an amazing experience.’

‘For both of us, and good for your future promotion prospects.’

‘And yours, I hope.’

‘Maybe – it’s hard to say where Walters is concerned, but I live in hope,’ Langton said optimistically.

‘What about arranging my flight?’

‘It’s just a case of changing your name and details from Mike’s, so e-mail me your passport details.’

‘Great. I can’t wait – and again, thank you for putting my name forward.’

She was suspicious about Walters’ involvement, especially knowing that he did not like Langton, and she wondered why he was allowing them both to go. Perhaps this might be Walters creating a façade, a way of ridding himself of Langton and in his absence ensuring that he would never make Commander.

‘About the Joshua Reynolds investigation… If it isn’t done with before we leave, who is going to take over from me?’ Anna enquired.

‘Paul Barolli’s perfectly capable of dealing with it. Also I’ve arranged for an FBI agent called Jessie Dewar to do some work experience with your team.’

‘Why?’

‘All part of her research for a doctorate in Forensic Psychology. She’s in France at the moment.’

‘Have you met her?’

‘Yes, at a European homicide conference in Paris. She’s pleasant and seems very capable.’

‘Well, if you’re happy and you think she will fit in with the team…’

‘She starts tomorrow morning. Show her the ropes before we leave for the States. She’ll no doubt give you a heads-up about what to expect on the FBI course.’

‘Any more surprises for me?’

‘Yeah, I forgot that she lands at eight p.m. this evening, Terminal Five Heathrow. I’ve got a prior engagement and I wondered if you could…’

‘I’m sorry, I can’t, but I can arrange for a local detective to meet her.’

Langton never ceased to amaze her, even after all these years, still trying to offload what he saw as the mundane things in life. She was annoyed that he hadn’t given her more notice.

They were interrupted by a knock at the door and Paul Barolli walked in, to tell them he had finished reading the Reynolds file and was now off home. Langton was quick to seize the moment and ask Paul if he was doing anything that evening.

‘No, sir. You fancy a pint then?’ Barolli asked, thinking his new rank had knocked him up the social pecking order.

‘Maybe another time, but I need a favour.’

‘Then I’m just your man,’ Barolli smiled.

‘DCI Travis will be joining me at Quantico and FBI Agent Jessie Dewar will be working with the team in her absence.’

‘Right. I see,’ Barolli said with a forlorn look.

‘However, you will be running the show as SIO in DCI Travis’s absence.’

Paul was chuffed with Langton’s faith in him and remarked that he wouldn’t let Langton or Anna down. He turned to leave the room but Langton continued.

‘Running the team’s not the favour. I was wondering if you could pick up Agent Dewar from the airport this evening.’

‘Sure, it’ll be a good opportunity to brief her on the Reynolds case.’

‘I’ve arranged the use of a Met-owned flat in Vauxhall for her,’ Langton said, handing Barolli a set of keys.

‘What does she look like?’ Paul asked.

‘Five seven, medium build, blonde hair.’

Barolli felt none the wiser about Agent Dewar as he put the keys in his pocket and said good night.

It was only after Langton had left the building that Anna had a chance to think about what it would mean for him to spend a whole year in the States working with the FBI. Like Mike Lewis, he too had a family. There was Laura his second wife and her daughter Kitty from a previous marriage, whom he had adopted. There was also their young son Tommy. She contemplated how Laura and the children would be feeling about his long-term absence. Although Anna did not know Laura, she could not believe that she would be happy about the situation. Anna’s past relationship with Langton had made her more than aware that he was never a man who put his family obligations above his career. Anna knew from experience that Langton could be difficult to live with and envisaged that he and Laura also had many ups and downs. It crossed her mind that maybe Laura didn’t care any more and was perfectly content to let him go to America. His family life was something he never discussed and a subject she knew was absolutely taboo.

The automatic doors of the Terminal Five Arrivals area slid slowly open revealing a number of people pushing luggage trolleys, pulling suitcases, mothers with stroppy children. Barolli, holding a small sign with MS J DEWAR written on it in black marker, noticed a lone middle-aged, plain-looking blonde woman pushing a luggage-laden trolley. She matched the brief description Langton had given him of their new team member. Paul raised his sign and waved it at her.

‘I believe it’s me you should be waving at,’ an American voice said.

The Jessie Dewar standing beside him was not what he was expecting. Stunningly attractive, she had soft, shoulder-length shiny-blonde hair and wide hazel-grey eyes. She wore little makeup; she didn’t need to with her flawless, lightly tanned skin. She was wearing a pink Solaro blouse and smart grey tailored suit, while the cut of her clothing and her high heels accentuated her curvaceous figure. She gave off an air of knowing she was a sexually attractive woman but also one who would take no nonsense.

‘I was expecting Jimmy Langton,’ Dewar said, causing Paul to rouse from his transfixed stupor.

‘He’s blind… I mean he got stuck behind… at work with a meeting. I’m Paul Barolli, the Detective Inspector on the murder squad you’ll be working with. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Agent Dewar.’

She gave him a small cool nod and shook his hand firmly.

‘I’m a supervisory special agent, Detective Barolli,’ Dewar replied in a matter-of-fact tone as he took hold of her suitcase.

‘That’s a mouthful. We use rank initials as abbreviations. Like DI for my rank, DCI for Chief Inspector…’

‘I hardly think SS Dewar would be appropriate.’

Although Paul Barolli felt that Agent Dewar was somewhat abrupt, he put it down to her having had a long tiring day. As he drove to Vauxhall he sensed that she was not in the mood for conversation so he pointed out various sights of interest and suggested that when she felt like it he would be only too pleased to give her a proper tour round London. Dewar thanked him for his offer but doubted that her work commitments would allow time for sightseeing. Paul told her that there was a copy of the Reynolds file for her on the back seat and started to give her a run-down on the case, to which Dewar said nothing but leaned over to retrieve the file and began reading. Paul knew she wasn’t listening to a word he said.

It was just after ten p.m. when they reached Nine Elms Lane in Vauxhall. The sat-nav voice informed them that their destination was two hundred yards on the left and Paul could see that meant St George’s Wharf, an award-winning development of luxury flats and penthouses with riverside views of the Thames. He was somewhat surprised that Dewar was being provided with such upmarket accommodation and suspected that it must be one of the flats used by the top brass at Scotland Yard.

As Dewar looked round the apartment, Barolli followed her and explained how to use the kitchen equipment, under-floor heating and air-conditioning.

‘There’s a garage with a Tesco Express down the road. Do you want me to get you some groceries while you unpack?’ he offered, but she said that she’d prefer to do her own shopping the following day. Paul told her that he would pick her up at nine a.m. to take her to Belgravia to meet the team. Dewar thanked him but said she would make her own way into the station, and then turned and walked off into the bedroom, leaving Barolli with little option but to bid her good night. He had just placed his hand on the door latch, about to open it, when there was a loud repeated knock, which made him jump. Opening the door he was surprised to see DCS Langton standing there with a bouquet of roses, bottle of champagne and bulging bag of groceries.

‘And there I was thinking you didn’t care about me any more,’ Paul quipped.

‘It’s past your bedtime, Barolli,’ Langton replied.

Jessie Dewar walked out of the bedroom and suddenly came to life, greeting Langton with a howl of pleasure as she leaped into his arms and gave him a big hug.

‘How come you weren’t at the airport to meet me, Jimmy?’

Paul watched Langton disentangle himself and explain he had been caught up at work.

‘Well, I’ll be off then, shall I?’ Paul asked.

‘Yeah, yeah, you take off,’ Langton said, wafting his hand and following Jessie into the living room.

Paul let himself out, still not knowing exactly what to make of Agent Dewar. It was more than obvious Langton and Jessie knew each other well but he wondered how the rest of the team would take to her, especially DCI Travis, who thanks to Langton’s description would be expecting to meet a plain Jane