restaurant, where he could while away the evening.
THE ROOM on the ground floor of the Western Area Headquarters that the officers always used for their press conferences had a small elevated area that passed for a stage and contained all the wooden chairs they could rustle up. Annie and Superintendent Gervaise had gone over the developments with ACC McLaughlin in regard to what should be mentioned and what they should keep to themselves for the moment. The best they could hope for, Annie thought, was to dispel a few rumors and douse the flames before they roared out of control. Already, she felt, it was getting a bit late for that.
Patrick Doyle’s death had thrown a spanner in the works, not only because it had occurred during a sanctioned police operation, but because a Taser was involved. One piece of information that had come to light at the hospital was that Patrick Doyle had suffered a heart attack two years ago. Though he had been responding well to medication, and his recent ECGs and echoes had all been good, there remained some minor damage to the heart that would never repair itself. They should have known that before sending Warburton and Powell in with Tasers. That’s what the media would say, too, when they got hold of the story. The Taser debate sold a lot of newspapers.
In addition to the local press and TV, there were reporters from the major national dailies-Mail, Sun, Guardian, Telegraph, Express, Times, Independent, Mirror-and one or two feature writers looking for something a bit more in-depth-gun crime, today’s youth, or police-related deaths.
The small room was buzzing with speculation and excitement when Annie and Gervaise entered that Tuesday morning and stood by the door to observe ACC McLaughlin in action. The space wasn’t so large that anyone needed a microphone, but the conference had been set up so that the proceedings could be recorded on digital video, and there were also a couple of TV cameras discreetly positioned in the back corners.
Annie surveyed the room and noticed the backs of a few familiar heads, including some she had seen at Laburnum Way yesterday. She leaned against the back wall by the door and sipped coffee from the mug she had brought with her as the reporters settled down and McLaughlin began his prepared statement.
“Yesterday morning at ten forty-five A.M.,” he began, “police were called to an address on Laburnum Way, where a loaded firearm had been reported. Unable to gain permission to enter from the occupants of the house, the Authorised Firearms Officers effected entry, and during the ensuing operation a man was injured by Taser fire. He later died of complications in Eastvale General Infirmary. A loaded gun was recovered from the scene. Now, I’m sure you have many questions, and I’m sure you also understand that my replies have to be necessarily restricted at this point in the investigation.”
Hands went up all over the room, and the man from the Daily Mail got the first question. “I understand that a Mr. Patrick Doyle was the registered owner of the house in question. Was he present at the time of the police assault? Was he the one who died? If so, how did it happen?”
“I must object to your use of the word ‘assault’ as unnecessarily inflammatory,” McLaughlin said. “The officers were dealing with a potentially very dangerous situation. But let me do my best to give you a clear and succinct answer, seeing as you know most of it already. Mr. Patrick Doyle was indeed the registered owner of 12 Laburnum Way. He was on the premises at the time the AFOs entered. He was injured by the discharge of a Taser and has sadly since died of unrelated injuries in Eastvale General Infirmary.”
Reactions buzzed about the room and more hands went up. McLaughlin picked a local reporter next, Annie noticed. “Yes, Ted.”
Ted Whitelaw from the Eastvale Gazette stood up. “You said ‘unrelated injuries.’ Was Mr. Doyle’s death directly caused by the Taser discharge, or wasn’t it?”
“That we can’t say at the moment,” said McLaughlin.
“Can’t or won’t?” someone shouted.
McLaughlin ignored the lone voice. “Mr. Doyle’s body is awaiting a postmortem examination,” he went on calmly, “and until that has been carried out, we won’t be able to say with any degree of certainty exactly what caused his death.”
“But isn’t it likely?” Whitelaw persisted. “We all know that Tasers can kill.”
“This is neither the time nor place to enter into a debate on Tasers,” said McLaughlin. “We’ll have to await the postmortem results before we know any more.”
“I understand that Taser deaths are often related to drug use or pre-existing heart conditions,” Whitelaw went on. “Did Mr. Doyle have a heart condition? Did he use drugs?”
“Patrick Doyle had a heart attack two years ago,” said McLaughlin, “but according to his doctor, he was in excellent shape.”
“Were the armed officers who entered his house aware of this heart attack?”
“They had not been advised of his condition, no,” said McLaughlin. “Why was that?”
“It’s not for me to speculate. That remains to be determined.”
“Was it because you didn’t know about it?”
McLaughlin said nothing.
“So would you say the Taser could have been responsible for his death?” Whitelaw pressed on.
“This was a very unfortunate incident, and it will be investigated thoroughly. Now, you’ve had more than your fair share of questions, Ted. It’s time to sit down.”
Whitelaw sat, smirked and began scribbling on his pad.
“You said the incident would be investigated thoroughly,” said the Daily Mirror man. “Can you tell us who by?”
“The actions of the officers involved will be investigated by Superintendent Chambers, from the Professional Standards Department, who will be working with an outside team brought in by the Independent Police Complaints Commission, according to protocol.”
“But it will be a police investigation, won’t it?” asked the woman from the Guardian.
“The last time I checked, Maureen,” said McLaughlin, “the police were the best qualified organization in the country to carry out such an investigation. Whom do you suggest we bring in? The librarian? A local antiques dealer? The little old lady down the street who takes in all the stray cats?” His Scottish accent grew more pronounced with his sarcasm.
The woman smiled. “I was merely pointing out that it’s simply another case of the police investigating their own,” she said, then sat down.
McLaughlin searched around for another raised hand. He didn’t have far to look. “Yes. You, Len.”
It was Len Jepson from the Yorkshire Post. “My question is a simple one,” he began. “Why was a team of Authorised Firearms Officers breaking down the door of a pebble-dash semi in a nice middle-class street in Eastvale on a quiet Monday morning?”
A ripple of laughter went around the room.
“As I said in my statement, we had reliable reports that there was a loaded firearm on the premises,” said McLaughlin,” and when our duty officers got no response to their requests for peaceful entry, the AFOs were called in. It’s standard procedure, Len. You should know that.”
“How many AFOs were involved?” asked a reporter from the Independent.
“Four. Two at the front and two at the back, as per usual. SOP.” Another hand. “Yes, Carol.”
“You mentioned in your statement earlier that a loaded gun was recovered from the house. Had it been used?”
“The weapon had not been recently discharged.”
“Who does it belong to?”
“That we don’t know.”
“Where is it now?” asked another voice.
“It’s been sent to the Forensic Science Services in Birmingham for further examination.”
“Any idea how it came to be in the house?”
“That matter is under investigation.”
“Was it anything to do with Erin Doyle?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t make any further comment at present.” More hands. McLaughlin picked the woman from the Darlington & Stockton Times. “Jessica?”
“You’ve been singled out before for your rather, shall we say, left wing views on some subjects of public
