‘There’s no evidence against him for murder now we know about Donna-’
Langton raised his hand for Anna to stop. ‘A night in the cells will teach him not to lie in future. If we’ve nothing on him, get the vice squad in to deal with him in the morning.’
‘I can call them now then I’d be free to deal with Donna’s arrest,’ Anna said, becoming even more impatient.
‘If you want to arrest and interview Donna, then fine,’ Langton said calmly, then paused just long enough to make Anna feel that he was agreeing with her. ‘But you stay here in London and see the job through to the end. You can also explain to Walters why you have thrown away the opportunity of a lifetime and wasted thousands of pounds of taxpayers’ money.’ Langton glared at her.
For a moment, she sat in stunned silence, realizing that he was being deadly serious, before gathering her things and storming out of the room.
Langton was in two minds to follow after her. He knew that it wasn’t just her feelings towards Dewar that influenced the way she was thinking. She was so dedicated to the job and her team that sometimes she just didn’t see the wood for the trees. Mike Lewis could sense that although the DCS was annoyed, he didn’t really enjoy going head to head with Anna. He knew that she had always been Langton’s protégée, but the problem was that many of the master’s traits had rubbed off on the pupil.
‘Have a look in Travis’s filing cabinets and see if she’s got any Scotch,’ Langton said to Mike, before slumping back in his chair.
Mike searched through the cabinets and found some glasses and a nearly empty bottle of Scotch.
‘I’d say there’s enough for a couple of large singles here,’ Mike said, holding up the bottle and handing Langton a glass.
‘You can’t go out to do a search smelling of booze,’ Langton said, taking the bottle from Mike. He unscrewed the cap, took a large swig, then gave a long sigh and leaned forwards.
‘Why does Travis drive me so fucking mad, Mike?’
‘I don’t know, guv. You could ask her before you get on the plane, and then discuss it during the eight-hour flight.’
‘Piss off to your search’
‘I’ll keep you posted,’ Mike offered as he made to leave the room.
‘No. I don’t want to hear another word about Gloria fucking Lynne or her spoilt daughters. I’m perfectly happy to read about it in the papers on the plane.’
As the door closed behind Mike, Langton swigged down the rest of the bottle, and then placed it carefully in the centre of the desk. It was a long flight and he knew he and Anna would be together for an even longer period at Quantico. He didn’t really need an answer to why Travis drove him mad. When she was angry, when she was trying to keep a lid on her temper, she had two pink spots that appeared on her cheeks, and her beautiful eyes flashed. He still loved her, he also admired her, and the attraction he had initially felt all that time ago had never disappeared. It was buried, but sometimes, out of his control, it rose to the surface. He would need to keep a firm lid on his emotions at the FBI Academy.
Chapter Nineteen
It was early evening by the time Barbara and Dewar met up with Mike Lewis, Pete Jenkins and two uniform officers at Esme’s flat on the Lancaster West Estate in Notting Hill. Barbara had possession of the search warrant, which had been issued by the magistrate at the Horseferry Road court. On arriving at flat two, Brandon Walk, they could see there were no lights on.
Mike knocked on the door and waited for an answer; when none came he knocked again and after a further minute of waiting instructed the uniform officers to use ‘the enforcer’. Dewar asked Barbara what Mike was talking about and she explained that this was a steel battering ram that was used to open doors. Dewar remarked that they call it the ‘big key’ back home and then hurriedly stepped back as the uniform officer removed the ram from a zipped holdall and positioned himself in front of the door. He swung the ram back and then smashed it into the door, causing it to fly open with a loud bang. The Chubb and Yale locks buckled under the impact as wooden splinters from the doorframe flew into the hallway, which was littered with unopened post and flyers.
Hearing the noise made by the ram, the neighbour from flat three came running out armed with a baseball bat, but he apologized on seeing the uniform police officers, adding that he thought someone was breaking in. Mike explained that they were executing a search warrant and asked if he knew Esme Reynolds or her son Josh. The neighbour said that he had only moved in five months ago but was told that the lady next door had passed away and her son was looking after the place. Dewar asked if he ever saw anyone coming or going from the premises and he replied only once, which was last Wednesday evening around eight-ish when he was on his way out to the pub. Asked to describe the visitor he said that a very attractive woman with long blonde hair, wearing tight jeans and a purple jacket, came out, locked the door behind her and walked off.
Mike thanked him for his assistance and promised they would try not to make too much noise. Dewar observed that the description fitted Donna.
‘The plot thickens,’ Mike said as he stepped into the flat, which had a musty damp smell. Putting on a pair of protective gloves he flicked the hallway light but nothing happened. He bent down and picked up some of the post from the top of the pile, glanced through it and opened a letter from the electricity supplier npower.
‘Non-payment – they must have cut the electrics off,’ Mike said, handing the letter to the other uniform officer and asking him to get an engineer out to switch the electrics back on and a carpenter to fix the door and fit new locks. Meanwhile, there was still a couple of hours of daylight left so they might as well crack on and if needs be they could call for some arc lights and generators to be brought to the flat.
Dewar and Barbara went into the kitchen, which was covered in dust. The linoleum floor was old-fashioned, with worn areas in front of the cooker and beside the sink unit. The mould-covered interior of the fridge smelled putrid from remnants of unidentifiable rotting food. In the cupboards were a few tins of chopped tomatoes, baked beans, and packets of rice and pasta. A plastic-lined shelf holding wine glasses and tumblers had been put up above a wine rack that was filled with fine red and white wines along with bottles of Bollinger champagne. Dewar commented that the costly collection seemed out of place in the overall surroundings. There was nothing that looked as if it had been used recently, nothing in the pedal bin, and the dishcloths and towels were neatly folded.
Mike Lewis checked out the living room with Pete Jenkins but found nothing of interest, then put his head around the kitchen door.
‘Bit of a dead zone, isn’t it?’ Dewar remarked.
‘This place is privately owned and being close to the nobs in Notting Hill Gate is probably worth in the region of three fifty to four hundred grand,’ Barbara said, surprising the agent.
Mike observed that it looked like Josh had indeed been having the place redecorated as the living-room walls had been painted and there were stacked picture frames that had yet to be re-hung. They went through the hallway and checked the cupboard beneath the stairs. It contained a number of different coloured tins of paint, rolls of woodchip wallpaper, brushes, a pasteboard and dust sheets. Dewar remarked that it was strange that the decorator hadn’t taken his stuff with him and Mike suggested that if it had been Josh’s Uncle Samuel, and he’d returned to Jamaica, then that would explain the decorating materials being left behind.
Next, they went upstairs, where there were three bedrooms, the smallest of which was filled with cardboard boxes, some with OXFAM written on them. On looking through these, it appeared they were mostly filled with Esme’s clothes. One box contained old photograph albums, Josh’s old sports trophies and schoolbooks. Barbara found an old address book in one box and on the off chance flicked it open to the Ms, finding what she was looking for: Marisha and a phone number. Barbara rang the details through to the office, where Joan said she would check it out, get an address from the phone number and inform DCI Travis.