Mike knew he had no grounds to object to Mr Holme having a consultation break, and decided that he would disclose further information regarding the recovery of the Ferrari beforehand. As he looked through the case file for a photograph of the car, Dewar took the opportunity to question Donna.
‘You faked the suicide note that Josh left on his laptop, didn’t you?’
‘No, I never even knew it was there, the police found it,’ Donna whimpered and again wiped her eyes with the tissue.
Mike Lewis began to explain to Dewar that as Mr Holme has asked for a consultation break, they were obliged to allow it, but Holme interjected, saying that he had been served with a printed copy of the suicide note and he was interested to hear Agent Dewar’s reasoning why she thought Donna had written it.
Holme patted Donna’s hand. ‘Are you happy to continue?’ he asked, and she nodded.
Mike knew that the validity of the suicide note would have to be put to Donna at some point so he let Dewar continue.
The agent asked Donna to look at the copy of the note.
‘Let me just point something out to you, Donna. The design of the note is wrong for someone about to commit suicide. It’s set up for an audience, written in the past tense and full of grammatical errors. It is clearly fake.’
‘I don’t understand. I swear to you I didn’t write it. I never even knew about it until DI Simms spoke to me,’ Donna wept.
Mr Holme leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table and his chin in his hand as he looked at the suicide note.
Dewar was about to continue but the lawyer interrupted her: ‘A very astute observation, Agent Dewar. Tell me, are you a recognized expert in the field of forensic linguistics?’
‘I have studied it and written a paper on the subject,’ Dewar replied smugly.
Holme shook his head and raised his eyebrows, clearly not impressed with Dewar’s reply.
‘Are you a recognized linguistics expert under the United States Supreme Court “Daubert” test? Or a mere dabbler in the subject?’ Mr Holme asked disapprovingly, neatly demonstrating his knowledge of American law.
Mike could feel Dewar tensing up beside him as she clenched her hands together. ‘I am conversant with the “Daubert” test, however-’ she started to say but Mr Holme interrupted her and remarked that ‘being familiar’ was not good enough, so he would refresh her memory and enlighten Superintendent Lewis regarding the “Daubert” test.
The way Holme took over the interview was beginning to make Mike tense as well, as the arrogant man removed his half-moon glasses and swung them round in his hand.
‘The expert must have sufficient knowledge, skill and experience of the subject matter and acknowledged stature in an academic or other peer community.’
Dewar’s cheeks flushed red as she realized she had been found out and her opinions would count for nothing in a court of law. Although she had also wanted to ask Donna about her 999 call to the police, she realized it would now be futile as Mr Holme would again challenge her reliability as an expert. Her embarrassment turned to resentment at being belittled in front of Mike Lewis.
‘Do you always believe in a client’s innocence?’ Dewar challenged Holme, who sat back in his chair and wafted his hand.
‘Good Lord, no,’ he replied honestly with a chuckle, then deliberately paused before continuing: ‘But I do believe Donna Reynolds.’
Mike Lewis took control of the interview and asked Mr Holme if he had read Pete Jenkins’ forensic report about the blood spatter. The lawyer confirmed that he had and remarked that it was interesting that the report was made from photographs many months after Josh Reynolds’ death and not as a result of observations made at the time.
Mike knew that Holme was implying that the original scene investigation was a total farce. Feeling the pressure, Mike pressed on, glancing towards Donna.
‘The conclusion of the report is that your husband did not shoot himself and was in fact murdered, then the gun was placed in his hand to make it look like a suicide.’ Mike took a calculated risk and put a photograph of Josh’s dead body down on the table in front of Donna. She looked briefly at the picture then began to tremble uncontrollably and burst into a fresh flood of tears.
‘I didn’t kill Josh. I swear it. I didn’t kill him. I loved him. I loved him!’ As expected, and hoped for by Mike, a very angry Mr Holme objected to Donna being shown the photograph.
Holme raised his voice. ‘Forensic science, like your interview tactics, can be wrong. Your behaviour is underhand and oppressive. I demand a break for consultation.’
Mike quickly turned off the recording equipment. He then stood, picked up his case file and the photographs and told Mr Holme to let the custody sergeant know when he was ready to recommence the interview.
Dewar followed Mike out of the room, racing to catch up with him as he strode down the corridor.
‘You had her on the ropes there, why stop?’ Dewar asked but Mike said nothing. ‘The tears and sniffling are a big act, just like her sham 999 call. You should have kept going at her or allowed me to.’
Mike stopped in his tracks.
‘If I want your opinion I will ask for it. I wanted Holme to break the interview before you screwed up again. He lured you right into his trap and played you for a fool. I should have listened to Anna and taken her into the interview,’ Mike said with anger.
‘But I’m right, the suicide note is a fake.’
‘You don’t get it, do you?’ Mike said, shaking his head.
‘Get what?’ Dewar asked.
‘Holme knows it’s a fake, and I’ve no doubt he agrees that Josh was murdered, but he’s saying, and making a very good job of it, that it wasn’t Donna.’ Mike, exasperated, continued to walk on. ‘I warned you, I told you not to get in a head-to-head with Holme.’
‘I’m sorry, Mike, it won’t happen again.’
‘Too bloody right it won’t because Barolli will be doing Donna’s next interview with me.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
Wanting to look her best on arrival Stateside, Anna was wearing a white silk shirt and a new black-and-red woollen pinstripe suit as she waited for the driver Langton had arranged to pick her up from the flat and take her to Heathrow. The tailoring line of the one button jacket and A-line slit skirt accentuated her curvaceous figure.
Anna had never been inside Terminal Five and was impressed by the size and design of the white-steel-and-glass structure. Staring up at the departure board, she searched for the 10 a.m. British Airways flight to Dulles International Airport, Washington.
‘Bit overdressed for an eight-hour flight, aren’t you?’ she heard Langton’s voice say from behind her. She turned to greet him and saw that he was wearing a white T-shirt, grey cotton jacket, matching cargo trousers and trainers, with a backpack slung over his shoulder.
‘Good morning, sir, how nice to see you too. The FBI will be impressed by your fine attire,’ Anna said with a sarcastic smile.
‘Cut the “sir” crap, Travis, you know it’s James out of the office,’ he said, totally ignoring the rest of her remark.
‘I got here early so I’ve checked in already. The desk is this way,’ he added, and walked off without even offering to carry her case or laptop bag.
Anna told the check-in assistant that she was travelling with Mr James Langton and asked if she could sit next to him on the flight.
‘I’m sorry, Miss Travis, Detective Chief Superintendent Langton was allocated the only upgrade we had to Business Class.’
Anna turned and glared at Langton, who had appeared beside her.
‘I can’t believe your bare-faced cheek, using your rank and profession like that.’
‘If you don’t ask, you don’t get,’ he said, shrugging his shoulders, and casually walked off, telling her to get a move on.