Authors: Lynda La Plante
‘With I believe a turnover in the region of thirty million pounds,’ Mike said, smiling back at her and deliberately giving an encouraging nod of respect, at which Donna smiled again.
Mike opened a blue folder and placed a computer printout of the CCS Medical Trust account in front of Donna and took out a copy for himself.
‘Can I draw your attention to the highlighted section, September fourth, 2012? As you can see, one hundred thousand pounds transferred electronically from CCS Medical to an account in the name of Mr John Peters. Does that transaction ring any bells?’ Mike asked and Donna peered closely at the list.
‘No, it doesn’t, but it could be someone who was owed monies for doing work related to a charity,’ Donna said.
‘The John Peters account was opened at the end of August 2012 using, as you must be aware, Esme’s maiden name, her husband’s Christian name and their address of flat two, Brandon Walk,’ Mike said calmly.
Donna looked like a rabbit caught in headlights as she turned to Mr Holme and shook her head. She waited for his advice, but this time he didn’t lean over to whisper and Anna could see that he was taken aback by Mike Lewis’s revelation.
‘Do you know anything about this, Donna?’ Mr Holme asked, almost as if he doubted her honesty.
‘No, I swear I don’t. Other people have access to the account so—’
Mike interrupted Donna: ‘Yes, but they don’t all know Esme’s address and maiden name, do they?’
‘But I, honestly, I mean I didn’t know her maiden name or her husband’s name,’ Donna implored.
Anna was amazed that Mr Holme didn’t interject; she could only think that he was shocked at what Mike Lewis had uncovered and the fact that Donna might have been lying.
‘Can you assist me, Mrs Reynolds, regarding the J. Peters transfer that is clearly connected to your work at the Lynne Foundation?’ Mike asked and sat back in his chair, staring at the young woman.
As Donna continued to read through the document the tears started to roll down her cheeks. She pleaded and pleaded that she didn’t know anything about the debit from the CCS Medical account. Mr Holme told her that it would be in her best interest at the present time to make ‘no comment’ to any further questions that were put to her. A sobbing Donna said that she wanted to tell the truth. Mr Holme sighed irritably and said it was her choice as to whether or not she heeded his advice.
Mike Lewis had really upped his game and it was obvious that he knew he was now in the driving seat. Anna watched intently as Mike placed another highlighted document down on the table.
‘September fifth, an electronic transfer for ninety-eight and a half thousand pounds for the purchase of a Ferrari. Ring any bells?’ Mike asked and tapped his finger on the highlighted area of the piece of paper.
Donna said nothing, but merely shook her head and looked bewildered as Mike put a picture of the Ferrari on the desk.
‘This car was recovered from Esme Peters’ garage and registered in the name John Peters, flat two, Brandon Walk,’ Mike said.
‘That can’t be right. I never—’ Donna’s voice was high-pitched with nerves as Mr Holme interrupted her.
‘We can ask for a break to discuss the CCS money transfers.’
Donna nodded and said she’d like to do that. Mike Lewis made a wide-handed open gesture, saying he was happy for a break to take place but that there were two bits of further information he felt he should disclose first.
‘A man matching Josh Reynolds’ description collected the Ferrari from the garage a few days later.’ Mike looked at Donna, inviting her to give him some form of explanation. Mr Holme gave her a stern look and she said nothing.
‘Let me tell you what I think happened. When Josh’s business began to fail and he needed money to prop it up the two of you hatched a plan.’
Donna was shaking her head and clasping and unclasping her hands.
‘You knew that your mother would never give you money to support Josh’s business. But working for the Lynne Foundation, stealing thousands here and there out of a multi-million-pound account would be a drop in the ocean and never missed.’ Mike cocked his head to one side as if saying ‘I’m right,’ but then Holme patted the table with the flat of his hand.
‘So why should my client murder her husband?’ the lawyer said.
‘From the love nest we found at your client’s mother-in-law’s, it is clear that Josh was having an affair. I believe that Donna knew this and in a fit of jealousy decided to murder him and make it look like a suicide.’
Donna half rose out of her chair and then sat back down again. ‘No, I never knew about any affair. I loved him, I still do, I could never kill him, never.’ Donna burst into sobs, her whole body shaking, and quickly became an incoherent wreck.
Mike suggested she cut the act and confess to Josh’s coldblooded murder.
Mr Holme stood up, demanding an end to the interview. Mike Lewis then announced he would be contacting the Crown Prosecution Service to ask for permission to charge Donna with the murder of Joshua Reynolds.
Anna sat back in her seat, quite stunned by what she had just seen. She couldn’t believe that Donna had managed to fool everyone, both at the time of the murder, and over the near seven months since. Was she really such an accomplished actress, or the victim of circumstances beyond her control? For Anna, it still didn’t add up, because at times Donna’s actions didn’t make sense. Her gut feeling told her that Donna wasn’t lying, but the circumstantial evidence and the woman’s own naïvety had made it seem that she was. This Donna, like the distressed one in the 999 call, was in Anna’s eyes, telling the truth.
Anna recognized that even if Donna stole the CCS charity money it didn’t mean she killed Josh. There was also now the clear possibility that someone other than Samuel decorated their flat and could be the real killer. Anna mulled it over: what if Samuel did decorate Josh’s flat? It meant Marisha was lying or mistaken about when her brother left the UK. If Samuel had been the decorator Josh would probably have given him keys for his own and his mother’s flats, especially as he was one of the family. What didn’t make any sense was why he would be involved in his nephew’s murder. Anna threw her pen down, irritated that she could not make sense of the interview and all that was going round and round in her mind. ‘Enough,’ she said to herself, realizing that she was spoiling what should be an enjoyable flight and that her doubts could wait until later. She packed away her laptop and settled down to enjoy her in-flight meal with a glass of wine, followed by a relaxing nap.
The next thing Anna knew, she was being roused by a flight attendant asking her to fasten her seatbelt as they were about to land. She looked out of the window at the ground below, wondering if the FBI Academy was in amongst the houses, buildings and woodland she could make out. Filled with optimism at the prospect of working alongside FBI agents at the prestigious Quantico headquarters, Anna could not recall a previous moment in her career when she had felt so excited.
Twenty-Three
Thanks to the assistance of an immigration officer, Anna and Langton quickly cleared Dulles passport control and collected their bags. Langton needed to nip to the gents and Anna agreed to keep an eye on his bags. As he left, she looked at her watch and calculated it was early evening in London, so she took the opportunity to phone Joan’s mobile.
After thanking Joan for the DVD files, Anna admitted that even having watched the interviews she was still not convinced of Donna’s guilt and raised the possibility that there was another decorator besides Samuel or that Marisha was lying. Joan told her that Paul Barolli had said the same thing and he had made an appointment for Marisha Peters to come in to the station so they could ask her more about her brother Samuel.
‘I need you to find out who the official photographer was at the Lynne Charity Ball on the fifth. Then get digital copies of all the photographs he took and upload them onto my Dropbox.’
‘Why?’
Anna looked up and saw Langton returning. ‘I’ve got to dash, I’ll call and explain tomorrow.’
‘Have you read the
Gardeners’ World
article yet?’
‘Not yet, but I will,’ Anna assured her, and slipped her phone in her pocket as Langton approached, worried he’d throw another wobbly about her fixation with the Reynolds case. The result was that she didn’t hear what Joan said next:
‘It’s called “These Plants May Kill” – a bit creepy but very interesting. You never know what dangers lie in a garden . . . Hello, Anna? Hello?’
Having passed through US Customs they noticed a man dressed in a dark-blue polo shirt that had the FBI crest on it. He was dark-haired, aged about forty, very handsome and incredibly fit-looking with broad shoulders, large chest and muscular arms. On seeing Anna and Langton, he came over and with a warm smile and firm handshake introduced himself as Special Agent Don Blane. Anna recalled Dewar saying Blane was the course instructor and she hoped that Don would not be Dewar’s clone.
‘Hi. It’s real nice to meet you. You look just like the photos our London office sent over. Transport is just outside so if you’d like to follow me,’ he said as he took hold of Anna’s case for her.
Outside, Don Blane opened the sliding side door of an old weather-beaten, FBI-logo’d, minibus and put Anna’s case inside. Before Langton could add his own case, Blane told him that the car behind would take him to Lake Ridge where he was staying. Anna turned and saw a shiny black Lincoln with a suited chauffeur standing beside it. She glanced at Langton and shook her head in disbelief, to which he retorted that he hadn’t pulled rank this time.
‘So, you’re not staying at Quantico?’ Anna asked with raised eyebrows, knowing that he was hiding something.
‘Um, no, but I will be working from there,’ Langton breezily replied. ‘By the way, what I said on the plane about Fitzpatrick is strictly confidential. Only the Commissioner and Deputy Walters know why I’m here. Walters tried to put the kibosh on it but the director of the FBI spoke personally with the Commissioner who overruled Walters.’
Anna immediately responded that she had no intention of telling anyone, and though she didn’t say it she was miffed at his implication. ‘Another thing, about the Josh Reynolds case—’ Langton started, but Anna interrupted him.
‘Don’t worry, I’m over it.’
‘Rubbish, I came back to see you again on the flight. You were sound asleep and your notebook was open on the seat with all your observations about Donna’s interview.’
‘You looked through my personal belongings? How—’
‘Before you get on your high horse, just listen to me. If you really think something’s wrong, find it, but be sure you have the evidence to back it up. If there’s no evidence, accept it and move on. Tell Mike Lewis what’s worrying you – he respects you and he’ll listen.’
Langton got into the Lincoln but before closing the door, he leaned out: ‘I’ll see you at the FBI Academy tomorrow. We can have dinner together.’ Anna nodded and he closed the door.
Don Blane informed Anna that the journey time to the Academy was about forty-five minutes and that he was the class tutor, so if there was anything she wanted or needed she should feel free to ask. Anna was struck by how pleasant and well-mannered the man was and sensed he was being genuine. Blane remarked that Jessie Dewar had told him Anna would be the one to watch out for. Anna asked what Dewar had said and Don explained that she had been singing Anna’s praises and thought she could well be the top student. Anna was extremely surprised by this and guardedly said that she had enjoyed working with Jessie.
‘How did you find her?’ Blane asked.
Anna said that she hadn’t really had much of a chance to get to know her but she seemed okay. She paused briefly as she thought about Blane’s question. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Nothing really, just curious – she was telling me about your Reynolds case and what she’d uncovered and how she thought it was the wife that murdered the husband.’
‘She’s not slow in voicing her opinion,’ Anna remarked, and he laughed.
‘That sounds like the Jessie I know. She’s not afraid to speak her mind, but the problem is she gets a fixation about something and she won’t let it go.’
‘We’re all guilty of that sometimes,’ Anna said, knowing that her clash of swords with Dewar came from both of them holding strong views.
‘Jessie’s heart’s in the right place, but as I’m sure you know, there’s no substitute for years of front-line investigative experience.’
‘She seemed pretty confident to me,’ Anna said.
‘Jessie came to the Behavioural Unit with very little experience as a field agent, so she feels the need to prove herself. The problem is, she latches onto facts that support her theory and unintentionally ignores evidence to the contrary.’
Anna thought that Don Blane was very shrewd. He clearly knew that Dewar must have ruffled a few feathers while she was in London, yet he was defending her in a kind and respectful way. With a sense of relief, she began to feel that they might get along after all.
As they drove to the Quantico base, Blane gave Anna a guide to the area, telling her that the Academy had opened in 1972 and was situated on a US Marine Corps base, surrounded by over 400 acres of woodland and lakes. The Forensic Science Research and Training Centre were also based on the same site along with outdoor and indoor firearms ranges and a mock town called ‘Hogan’s Alley’.
They eventually arrived at a checkpoint, where two armed Marine guards examined Blane’s ID and Anna’s papers as well as searching the minibus before allowing them to pass. It was at least another two miles through woodland before Anna could see the honey-coloured buildings of the Academy.
Blane parked by the main building, got out and hurried round to Anna’s door to open it. He carried her case and laptop bag into the reception area, where he introduced her. She handed over her course invitation paperwork and was given a room key, and an FBI badge with her picture on it hanging from a lanyard, which she was told must be worn at all times when on the Academy grounds but was not to be used or shown off the premises. Blane then took her down a long glass corridor and pointed out that similar glass corridors throughout the complex came together and met in a glass-covered quad that linked all the buildings. He explained that you didn’t ever need to go outside between buildings but it was easy to get lost when you didn’t know the place.