Chapter 16
‘Do you know this is the first time that I’ve been to your house?’ said Ezra, following Henley into the kitchen.
‘Are you sure? I would have sworn you’ve been here before.’
‘Nope. I’m not saying you haven’t invited me, like when you had that barbecue back in the summer, but it was on the same day as my Grandad’s birthday. It’s nice in here.’
‘Thank you very much. So, what can I get you to drink?’
Ezra walked up to the counter and tapped the side of the coffee machine. ‘I’ll have a cappuccino from this fancy machine of yours.’
‘Of course you would.’ Henley opened the dishwasher and removed a couple of cups. ‘Biscuits are in the bread bin next to you. And whatever you do, do not feed the dog,’ she warned as Luna walked in from the living room, making her way towards Ezra.
‘So, are you ready?’ Ezra asked.
‘Shoot.’ Henley placed Ezra’s cappuccino in front of him and sat down with her own cup of tea.
She hoped that Ezra could see past her fake confidence.
She’d always prided herself on her ability to compartmentalise, but something had cracked inside her that night when Peter Olivier had stabbed her.
Her professional life had finally intersected with her personal life, and she hadn’t slept through the night since.
During those challenging times she’d always been able to rely on her old boss Rhimes, but the Streeter and Beckett case had forced her to question if she’d ever known the real Rhimes.
The allegation was that he’d been corrupt and had sent an innocent man to prison for twenty-five years.
When Rhimes’s widow, Eloise, asked Henley to investigate his death, Henley had hoped that she’d successfully exonerate him and close the door on the many questions that had circulated around his life and that he could finally rest in peace, but the opposite had happened.
With each passing day of the Streeter investigation, Henley became more convinced he’d been murdered.
Now Henley wondered if involving Ezra had been a mistake.
‘I think that Rhimes may have been working undercover or investigating someone in the Met,’ Ezra said.
‘Undercover?’ Henley repeated as she tried to process what Ezra was telling her. ‘Why would he be working undercover? Also, it doesn’t make any sense for—’
‘Boss. I’m just telling you what I’ve found so far. The first thing I did was look at the money. That’s what they did with me when I was being investigated. Start with the money and work backwards.’
Henley settled back in her chair as Ezra opened his laptop.
He didn’t often speak about the events that led to him serving a three-year prison sentence for fraud.
He’d insisted more than once that he wanted to forget about that part of his life, but his computer hacking skills and the fact that experts during his trial had been in awe of his talents was the reason why he’d ended up working for the SCU in the first place.
‘Rhimes had three bank accounts. A current and savings account that he held jointly with Eloise and his own current account which he had with Barclays for decades and a credit card. His salary went into his Barclays account,’ Ezra explained.
‘Nothing about that sounds in the slightest bit dodgy.’
‘Rhimes told me more than once that he was a simple man, not interested in “new-fangled ideas”,’ Ezra mocked. ‘So it doesn’t make sense that the man who refused to get a banking app on his phone had an account with Novafin Bank.’
‘Who the hell is Novafin Bank?’
‘Another one of these online banks that seem to be popping up every five minutes,’ said Ezra, spinning his laptop round. ‘What you’re looking at is seven months’ worth of Novafin bank statements.’
Henley scanned the statements. ‘Deposits but no withdrawals,’ she said. ‘Five grand deposited every two months from a Kit Walker.’
Ezra sniggered. ‘Whoever it is thought that they were being clever,’ he said. ‘I bet you don’t know who Kit Walker is?’
‘No. But I suspect that you’re going to tell me.’
‘It’s the real name of a comic book character called “Phantom”. My dad used to read the comics to me as a kid. The account name may be fake, but the sort code isn’t. The account is held with another online bank called Stellar Banking.’
‘No one is going to pay you five grand a month just for the fun of it,’ said Henley.
‘Or go through all the trouble of setting up accounts in fake names and bouncing all the money around.’
‘How do you know that they’re bouncing all the money around?’
Ezra shrugged. ‘I don’t but I’m thinking that if you’re using online bank accounts based in Iceland you must be bouncing the money.’
‘What about these payments? ￡1800 in April. ￡870 in May. ￡109 in August. ￡339 in June. They’re all from the same account. Innowave Solutions.’
‘That’s where the undercover bit comes in. Innowave Solutions doesn’t exist. I mean, it does, but it doesn’t do anything. They’re a shell business that I tracked back to the NCA.’
Henley remained quiet as she stared back at Ezra. There was no joviality or humour in Ezra’s eyes. She felt sick as anxiety prickled her nerves.
‘The National Crime Agency,’ she finally said.
‘Yeah. They’ve got quite a few of these accounts set up which I think they use to—’
‘Pay their undercover agents.’
‘But what were the random payments for?’ Ezra asked quietly.
‘A salary. Expenses maybe,’ Henley said, picking up the empty cups and bringing them over to the sink.
She stood facing the window, looking out to the dark garden as she searched her memories for her last interactions with Rhimes.
The SCU back then had been busy. It wasn’t unusual for Rhimes not to be in his office, as he was summoned for another meeting at New Scotland Yard.
She felt her chest filling with both disappointment and betrayal. She willed herself not to cry.
‘Boss,’ said Ezra softly. ‘Are you ok?’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ Henley sniffed, picking up a tea towel and dabbing the corner of her eyes. ‘I’m fine but I’m not going to pretend I’m not surprised.’
‘You must have thought something was up if you were asking me to look into his… well all of this?’
‘It’s one thing to think it but it’s another thing to know it.’
‘I suppose it’s not the sort of thing you can talk about when you’re on a SCU curry night out. “Oi, Ezra, pass over the tandoori chicken and by the way did I tell you that I was going undercover?”.’
‘No, you’re right,’ Henley replied.
‘You told me to start with the investigation into his death, right?’
‘But you started with the money, which was a good strategy,’ said Henley. ‘But what about the investigation into his death?’
‘I’ve got the postmortem and CRIS report that was opened when they found him.’
‘What about his emails?’
‘His work email was shut down, but they should have archived it.’
‘Don’t do anything that will get you—’
‘You panic too much, boss. He also had a Yahoo email account but there was honestly nothing in there that looked suspicious.’
Ezra handed a memory stick to Henley. ‘Everything is on there. The bank accounts. His Yahoo account if you want to go through the emails for yourself. I’m going to move onto his phone records.’
‘Thank you, Ezra.’ Henley turned the memory stick around with her fingers.
Its weight didn’t convey the gravity of Ezra’s revelations.
She took her free hand and rubbed the throbbing vein in her temple.
In that moment she wished she could have gone back.
Back to that moment when Eloise had told her she believed that someone murdered her husband.
She would have been stronger and told Eloise she was wrong. That it was time to move on.
‘I know what I’m asking of you is a lot,’ said Henley.
‘Don’t worry about it. I’m doing it because it’s for you and it’s him,’ Ezra said sadly. ‘Grief is the strangest of things.’
‘Yes, it is,’ agreed Henley as she looked across at the black-and-white photograph of her mum that had been taken a year before she died. The time that had passed didn’t lessen the loss.
‘Oh yeah, you’re going to find one more thing that doesn’t make sense on that memory stick,’ said Ezra.
‘Like what?’
‘The conclusion on the post-mortem report doesn’t match the cause of death on the death certificate.’
‘That can’t be right. I saw the death certificate myself because Eloise was in no fit state to register Rhimes’s death.
Their son, Nicholas, agreed to do it but on the day, he was in bits and Pellacia and I took him to Bromley Registry office.
The registrar even gave me a copy of Rhimes’s death certificate, not that I’ve got a clue what I’ve done with it, but I clearly remember what was in the cause of death box: carbon monoxide poisoning.
The registrar had the conclusion of the post-mortem report and that’s what she told us. ’
‘That’s not what’s written in the post-mortem report I’ve got,’ said Ezra.
‘What does it say?’ Henley asked with slight irritation.
‘See for yourself,’ Ezra replied as he opened a PDF file and scrolled down to the conclusion of the report.
‘Asphyxiation,’ Henley said. ‘That’s not right. Where did you find this report?’
‘Archived files in the coroner’s office digital case system. Remember how I say nothing’s ever deleted.’
‘I know what you say, but there has to—’ Henley was interrupted by the doorbell ringing. ‘That has to be my dad with Emma. Just give me a sec.’
Henley ran through the possible scenarios that would explain the errors on the post-mortem report as she made her way to the front door.
Had the author cut and pasted the wrong information into Rhimes’s post-mortem report?
Had Ezra downloaded the report for a different Harry Rhimes? Neither scenario sat right with her.
‘Mummy,’ Emma squealed, holding up a small bunch of tulips. ‘We bought you flowers.’
‘I can see that.’ Henley smiled tightly as she took the flowers from Emma. ‘Thank you, sweetie.’
‘What’s wrong?’ Henley’s dad, Richard, asked as he closed the front door.
‘Nothing’s wrong, Dad.’
‘Your face doesn’t agree. You look, what’s the word? Pensive.’
‘It’s been a long day, that’s—’ Henley paused when she heard Emma’s excited screams at the discovery of Ezra in the kitchen.
‘Every day is a long day in your work. You’re not supposed to take this job home with you,’ said Richard.
‘I try not to,’ Henley said, giving her dad a hug. ‘You look good,’ she told him.
‘Hmm. My new meds seem to be fixing my head and my complexion,’ Richard joked.
Henley watched her dad. His mental journey had seen more downs than ups over the years but there was always a strong sense of relief when she saw her dad in control and in good spirits.
‘Dad, can you do me a favour and keep Emma occupied for a bit? I just need to finish my chat with Ezra.’
‘Of course. I’m sure I can sit through another episode of Pingu,’ said Richard.
‘I’m not an expert in death and stuff,’ said Ezra, once Henley had returned. ‘Maybe Dr Choi can explain what it means to you.’
‘Yeah, maybe she can,’ said Henley, putting the memory stick into her pocket, instead of the bin which had been her second thought. ‘You’ve done good, Ez.’
‘I don’t feel good.’
‘If you want to walk away from this, then that’s fine. Honestly, you’re not obligated to do anything just because I’m your boss.’
‘I know that but its Rhimes innit? How can I walk away from him? He was miserable sometimes and stubborn, but he gave me a chance when he didn’t have to.
He could have said “Stephen, nah”.’ Ezra shook his head and grinned.
‘It feels odd calling the boss by his first name, but the point is Rhimes could have told Pellacia to do one when he told him to give me a job, but he didn’t. ’
‘He had a lot of respect for you,’ said Henley. ‘His exact words when we were investigating you were “He’s not a devious little git, just misguided”.’
‘Sounds about right, but I hope I’m wrong here. I hope I’ve made a mistake.’
‘You and I both know that you don’t make mistakes.’
Emma’s hysterical laughter travelled through the kitchen.
‘I know that Rhimes had depression,’ said Ezra.
‘You knew about that?’ Henley was surprised. Rhimes had never been one to talk openly about his feelings and it pleased her that he’d trusted and confided in Ezra.
‘Yeah. He took me to lunch one day and told me. I used to go out for walks with him when he felt like—’
‘The walls were closing in,’ Henley said sadly.
‘Exactly, but I don’t know. The gassing himself in the garage never felt right to me.’
‘I keep thinking about the last thing that we said to each other and there’s nothing there.’
‘No signs that he would take his life?’
‘And no signs that he was in fear for his life either, but look at what you found, Ez. If the post-mortem isn’t a mistake and asphyxiation was the real cause of death … it’s a cover-up.’
‘And that means that Mrs R was right. Someone killed Rhimes.’