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.