Cherringham--Killing Time

by Matthew Costello

  Nothing much to be learned from him, as expected, Sarah thought, as Luke quickly confirmed all the details of that night, exactly as Megan had relayed them.

  But then …

  “You’ve been with the group for a while? Known Zach, the others, for some time?”

  Luke looked as if he was about to nod, but then shook his head.

  “Um, only moved to Cherringham last year. I knew the group was here. They’re kinda famous, I guess. Because of Zach, really.”

  He then gave off a small grin. “Seemed like they really knew what they were doing.”

  “You’ve been an explorer for long?”

  “No, not really. But I’ve always wanted to do it — like, for ever. Read all about it, followed Zach’s channel. He’s awesome. I mean … he was.”

  “So you were the newbie in the group?”

  “Yeah, they were great. Really friendly.”

  “And before you came to Cherringham where did you live?”

  Sarah wasn’t sure why she asked that. Except that, from appearances, it didn’t seem like Luke had moved to this place, on the outskirts of the village, for any career advancement.

  “I lived in the Midlands. Near Derby.”

  Sarah jotted the information in her notebook.

  “And your work here?”

  “Mostly — you know — odd jobs. Fill in at the Ploughman’s when needed. Did some work on a dairy farm. Bit of this, bit of that.”

  And maybe, Sarah thought, on the dole.

  She gestured to the laptop. “Nice machine. Been looking at an upgrade myself. Pretty expensive bit of kit.”

  “Yeah. My pride and joy. Present from my mum. So I can keep up with all the other urban explorer sites. The lady in the cottage lets me use her WiFi.”

  Sarah smiled, then flipped back through her notes, just to remind him this was an interview.

  “Can we go back to that Thursday night — the night Zach died?”

  “Yeah. Whatever you want.”

  “You remember where you were?”

  “Oh, sure. I was at the Ploughman’s. With Megan. It was pub quiz night. Never miss that. Pretty good. We even won second place that night. Got back late.”

  “Oh, so you were there with Megan?”

  “Yeah. Usually Tom and Ella come along too, but they … they cried off for some reason.”

  That alibi: easily confirmed. But interesting about the others. That would certainly need checking.

  “Did you and Megan talk about Zach?”

  “Yeah, a bit. Megan said she was getting worried about him. I think that’s when I told her about Blackwood House.”

  “About Zach saying he wanted to go there on his own?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I wanted to ask you about that. From what you knew of Zach, nothing strange in his going into that place solo?”

  Luke shook his head. “Never catch me doing that. Scary. Dangerous too. But Zach, well, he was different. I guess that’s why everyone admired him — liked him.”

  Sarah was attentive to that choice of word: liked.

  “That include Ella as well?”

  On Luke’s face, a sign that maybe he had just let something slip that he shouldn’t have.

  He took his time replying. “Yeah. I mean, Ella and Tom are like, together. But she liked Zach too. A lot, actually.”

  Sarah stayed quiet for a few seconds. Luke looked like he had more to say, but didn’t know how to say it.

  She hazarded another step in that same direction: “So … Megan … did she know about that? I mean Ella liking Zach?”

  “Not sure. Guess.” He rubbed his chin. “You’ll have to ask her.”

  “And what about Tom? Did he know how Ella felt about Zach?”

  “I don’t know. Fact … look, I’m thinking I shouldn’t have said any of that.”

  Sarah gave a small smile. “That’s okay, Luke. Nobody’s going to know what you said. Thanks for talking.”

  She got up from the table.

  “We done?” he said, sounding surprised.

  “Think so,” said Sarah, putting her notebook away and walking over to the door. “That’s all been very helpful.”

  Now she noticed, in the corner behind the door, a pile of clothes and equipment: boots, portable lights, overalls, heavy gloves.

  “This stuff. Your urbex gear?” she said.

  “Oh, yeah. Though — I dunno — I’m not sure how much I’m going to do anymore.”

  Sarah could understand that.

  Losing a good friend, always tough, she thought.

  “You two,” he said as her hand close on the doorknob, “you learned anything new? About Zach? About the accident? About what happened?”

  She turned.

  “Not yet.”

  And with that hint of discoveries still to come, she opened the door and left the shed-like home of Luke Sharp.

  As she made her way back to the car, she thought about what Luke had revealed. Ella was clearly having a fling with Zach — and Tom knew about it.

  So what if Tom was the kind of guy who wouldn’t let that lie?

  What if he’d followed Zach to Blackwood House that night and things had got out of hand?

  She checked her watch. Just time to make an early booking at the Spotted Pig, drop by the office — then catch up with Jack over dinner.

  And see if he’d managed to track down Tom.

  10. Tea with Tom

  Jack parked by the village hall and walked down the High Street past Sarah’s office. Then he turned into the little alleyway, past the line of tiny stores all squeezed together: bookshop, therapies, fabrics, travel agent.

  Amazing how these places still survive, he thought. And new ones always opening.

  Most of the stores were closing for the day — but on the door of the Full of Beanz café, the sign on the door still said “open” so Jack went right in.

  The place was empty, and behind the counter Jack saw a young guy in an apron cleaning the coffee machine. Tall, powerfully-built, like a regular gym user.

  He looked up as Jack entered, and Jack could guess he was hoping for anything but a coffee order.

  “Am I too late for a tea?” said Jack, approaching the counter.

  “No problem,” said the guy, clearly relieved not to have to start the espresso machine up again.

  Jack waited as the tea was made, then paid with a bill, and said, “You’re Tom Hanson — right?”

  The young man handed Jack his change, but without a smile. “Yeah. Do I know you? Wait — you’re the American guy, lives down on a barge?”

  “That’s right. Jack Brennan.”

  Jack waited, but Tom said nothing — just picked up a cloth, started wiping the counter top.

  “I’m looking into the death of Zach Woodcote,” said Jack. “I’m sorry for your loss by the way.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I know you’re probably still feeling pretty raw about Zach. But there’s some people saying maybe what happened isn’t quite so clear-cut as the police think.”

  “Oh yeah? Which people?”

  “Megan Dunn.”

  “You talked to her?”

  “Yep. And to Ella. And Luke. They’re all friends of yours, right? Fellow explorers. Surprised they didn’t mention it to you?”

  Jack watched Tom take this in.

  “Yeah. Um, maybe they did. I’ve been busy.”

  Then the young man put down his cloth, came around the counter, went over to the door, locked it and flipped the OPEN sign around.

  “Ten minutes — okay?” he said, coming back to Jack and pulling two chairs out from a table. “Then I gotta close up.”

  So Jack put his tea on the table, sat, and took out his notebook.

  *

  Jack sat opposite Tom, deciding how to run this. The guy sprawled in his chair, arms folded, the eyes challenging.

  Bit of attitude there, thought Jack. Is he upset about Zach, or …?

  Maybe push a l
ittle, find out …

  “Tell me about Blackwood House,” said Jack. “You ever been there?”

  “No, never.”

  “Really? Seems like that place … right up an explorer’s alley?”

  “Yeah. Maybe.”

  “And people said it was haunted. That why Zach wanted to explore it?”

  “Zach … he had his own reasons for doing things.”

  “Not a big Zach fan, huh?”

  “We hung out together. Went urbexing together. That’s about it.”

  “Mutual benefit, yeah?”

  “Yeah. That kind of thing.”

  “But he benefited more — least looks that way to me. Him in that cool apartment — you here making coffees.”

  Jack watched how Tom took the comment.

  “Me? I don’t urbex for the money.”

  “But he did?”

  “So they say. Who knows.”

  “So — this urbexing code of honour thing — you know — not taking stuff from places. That really true?”

  “True for me.”

  “And the other guys?”

  “Yeah. Guess so. We don’t go looking for stuff. We don’t steal.”

  “You sure of that?”

  “Totally sure,” said Tom. And Jack sensed the guy finally beginning to steam up a bit.

  Which was good.

  “And what about Zach? You think he would take stuff from a place if he found it?”

  “Why would he need to? His channel — that’s how he made money.”

  “Thought you didn’t know about any of that? Zach making money and all? You’re referring to his YouTube channel, yeah? I looked at it. Cool guy, wasn’t he? Successful.”

  Again, another implied dig, Jack wondering what it might take to upset the brawny barista.

  But Jack saw Tom shrug. No answer.

  Time to dig a little deeper, hit some more buttons.

  “We talked to Ella. I told you that, yeah? Sounds like she — for one — was quite the fan. Of Zach.”

  Tom sat up, and Jack could see the drift of these questions had finally hit home.

  “What the hell do you mean?” said Tom.

  “By the way — just curious. When did you last see Zach?” said Jack, ignoring his question.

  “What?” said Tom, looking confused. “I thought you were trying to find out about the accident.”

  “Oh, accident, you think? Yeah, right. Zach died on the Thursday. So when did you last see him? Simple question.”

  “I don’t bloody know. What’s all this—”

  Jack flipped a page in his notebook.

  “The others told me, um, Saturday night at the Ploughman’s. That right?”

  “If they say so.”

  “Really, Tom? That’s your answer?”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “Could make plenty.”

  “I don’t have to tell you anything, you know.”

  “Sure. I know. Still … You got nothing to hide, right?”

  Jack watched him carefully. Tom frowning now, looking cornered.

  The guy was definitely hiding something. But what?

  “Okay. Last time I saw Zach was Saturday night at the Ploughman’s with the other guys.”

  “And what about the night he died? The Thursday. Where were you then?”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Serious question. We’re asking everybody.”

  A pause, then, “I was with Ella. Satisfied?”

  “Thank you, Tom,” said Jack, smiling. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  Jack made a pretend note in his notebook. As if he’d learned something really important.

  Might be good to keep this guy rattled.

  “Okay, think that’s all I needed to know. Nice talking to you. Guess that ten minutes is up, huh?”

  He put his notebook away and stood up. Tom looked shaken, and surprised the interview was over.

  “You have a good evening now,” said Jack, and he went to the door, turned the lock, and left the café without looking back.

  Jack had to admit. Chats like that?

  Always interesting.

  He checked his watch. The Spotted Pig would be open. No time to head back to The Goose and change.

  Better plan: martini in the Pig, go back over his notes and wait for Sarah.

  With plenty to talk about over dinner. And, boy, early dinner was a good plan. The day had been so busy, somehow he’d forgotten to get lunch.

  *

  Jack pushed open the door to the Spotted Pig, and gave a wave to Julie the co-owner behind the bar, then saw that Sarah had already arrived, and was sitting at their favourite table in the corner … with Chloe.

  The rest of the place was still empty. Jack had long ago discovered that 6pm in an English restaurant, even on a Friday evening, was tumbleweed time — either that or kids’ party hour.

  “Hey guys,” he said, joining them. “Nice surprise, Chloe. You joining us for dinner?”

  “I wish,” said Chloe. “Got an appointment back home with some studying, then I said to Megan I’d go see her.”

  “Shame,” said Jack, taking off his coat and sitting down. “Was looking forward to catching up with you. Still thinking of doing law?”

  “Law — or criminology,” said Chloe.

  “Really? Well that’ll be useful,” said Jack and he grinned at Sarah: “Especially round these parts!”

  “Chloe’s been doing some research into Blackwood House for us,” said Sarah, and Jack now saw the pile of papers on the table. “And I have to tell you, Jack, from what she’s told me so far, she’s made quite a breakthrough.”

  “Well, how about that,” said Jack. “Let me get that martini in progress, and then why don’t you tell us what you found, detective.”

  And he turned and gestured to Julie for a drinks order, thinking, Like mother like daughter.

  *

  “Okay,” said Chloe, and Sarah watched her daughter lay the papers out in front of her, each one with a coloured, numbered tab on the corner.

  Why did I never think of doing that? thought Sarah.

  “I had some downtime this afternoon, so I decided to hunt down the land registry and ownership records of Blackwood House,” said Chloe.

  “Excellent,” said Jack. “I’ve been wondering who lived there. And when I tell you what I found up there this afternoon, you’ll see why.”

  “So,” continued Chloe, lifting up the first of the documents. “The current owner isn’t a ‘who’, it’s a ‘what’. A company called — very imaginatively — Blackwood Holdings. Registered in London, the directors are both accountants working for a company that seems to specialise in creating companies, that in turn create companies.”

  “Oh — so just a front?” said Jack.

  “Exactly,” said Chloe. “Now this is where it gets interesting.”

  Sarah couldn’t help feeling proud of her daughter as she saw Jack take his first sip of martini and lean forward, his eyes locked on Chloe.

  “I’m all ears.”

  “So, Blackwood is a subsidiary of Cotswold Investments in Jersey, which is owned by Paragon in the Caymans, which is owned by Elite in the British Virgin Islands, which is owned by Bryce Investments back in Jersey …”

  Sarah watched as, one by one, Chloe, grinning, laid out the papers across the desk.

  “Quite a chain,” she said. “Accounts? Directorships?”

  “Impossible to get into the foreign companies in detail,” said Chloe. “But because it loops back to Jersey, I was able to use one of your accounts to search for—”

  “One of my accounts?” said Sarah.

  “We should talk about your password security, Mum,” said Chloe. “Jack — you want to hear about the directors of Bryce Investments?”

  “Make my day. I’m already getting a flavour of the kind of people they might be.”

  “Oh, you’ll like this,” said Chloe. “Three directors. A Mr Suram, a
Mr Martinez and a Mr Proctor, all with addresses in Jersey. So far, looking legitimate.”

  Sarah watched her daughter slide her tablet across, then open some tabs and pass it to Jack.

  “But once I had those names, I started to hit the news databases to crosscheck if they had history,” said Chloe. “Didn’t take long to find out more … a lot more.”

  “Wow,” said Jack, not looking up from the tablet, scrolling through news reports. “Amazing. These guys were major players. Drugs, smuggling, people trafficking …”

  “Suram and Martinez were convicted three years ago for a whole string of offences,” said Chloe. “Importing, supplying, also money laundering, fraud, and some serious assault charges. They’re both in prison in the UK.”

  “What about Proctor?”

  “The one that got away. Imagine he’s on the run somewhere — one of the papers thinks they tracked him down in South America.”

  “But hang on. Did any of these guys actually live in Blackwood House?” said Jack.

  “Good question. Nothing to indicate that so far,” said Sarah. “We’ve just been trawling back through local papers online. Seems like police raided Blackwood House three years ago as part of the bigger investigation, but the place was already empty, abandoned. Nobody living there.”

  “So they searched the place, then sealed it up?” said Jack.

  “Looks like it,” said Sarah. “Then forgot about it. Looks like the investigation shifted to London and they arrested a whole lot of other people — isn’t that right, Chloe?”

  “Yep, some in London, but then a ton more arrests and charges across the country,” said Chloe. “I haven’t gone through all the details yet, they’re all linked on the tablet there.”

  “So, the question still is, what was going on in that house?” said Sarah. “And how does it connect to the death of Zach Woodcote?”

  “I was thinking maybe Zach stumbled on something while he was there?” said Chloe. “And these gangsters somehow killed him, made it look like an accident?”

  “But the place being empty. I mean, what are the odds they’d even know Zach had gone in?” said Jack. “Though — in a strange way — does kinda fit what I found at the house today. Want to hear about that?”

  “I’d really like to, Jack,” said Chloe, getting up. “But I’m late already. Shall I leave the paperwork and the tablet?”

  “Yes, love,” said Sarah, giving her a quick kiss. “And thanks for this.”