DCI Isaac Cook Box Set 2

by Phillip Strang

  ‘Let me remind you, Dundas. My father was mad, and his will is worthless. I will find someone competent to deal with its legality. I am entitled to half of what he’s worth, not a measly five million pounds, and then only if I hold down a job. What do you, what did he expect me to do? Get a job in a shop, work in an office? I’m an entrepreneur, not someone’s lackey.’ With that, Ralph Lawrence stormed out of the room.

  ‘Mr Lawrence,’ Wendy said, as the man tried to exit the building.

  ‘Yes, what do you want?’

  ‘Sergeant Wendy Gladstone. We have a few questions for you.’

  ‘Not now. I’m busy.’

  Wendy could see the anger in the man’s face. His eyes were bulging, his cheeks were flushed, his hands were shaking. ‘Unfortunately, I must insist.’

  ‘Not now. Can’t you see that I have other things to do.’

  ‘It’s either voluntarily or in handcuffs.’

  Lawrence looked at the two uniforms standing by. ‘Very well, but I will lodge a formal complaint.’

  ‘That’s your prerogative. I’ll give you the contact details once we get to Challis Street. Mind your head as you get in the back seat of the police car.’

  After a short break, while everyone calmed down after the disruption by Ralph Lawrence, Leonard Dundas continued.

  To my sister Emma, I bequeath one million pounds. I cannot say that I approved of some of her decisions in life, but they were hers, and I respect her for that. The money is hers to use, wisely or otherwise, although with age comes wisdom.

  Leonard Dundas and his daughter will maintain my property portfolio. To Leonard, one million pounds. To Jill Dundas, one million pounds. Caroline and Desmond Dickson will take responsibility for my property portfolio, in consultation with Leonard Dundas and his daughter, although Caroline will be the only one given voting rights. They will not be able to liquidate more than five per cent of the assets in any two-year period. The children of Caroline will be asked to join the committee in time, and with voting rights. What has been set up will remain with the Lawrence family.

  ‘What about the mansion in Atherton Street?’ Caroline asked.

  ‘It will become part of the Lawrence property portfolio. What is inside belongs to you.’

  ‘The cars?’

  ‘They are yours,’ Leonard Dundas said.

  Chapter 7

  Ralph Lawrence slouched in a chair at Challis Street Police Station.

  The information received from Spain had shown that with an excellent website and his charm Ralph Lawrence had managed to induce British holidaymakers enamoured of the sun and the local culture to place down payments on a speculative property development venture. It was a scam. The Spanish knew it, as did Homicide at Challis Street, but that was a technicality in as much that he had not broken any laws in England.

  Isaac looked at the man, well aware that he had been dealt a body blow at the reading of the will. Leonard Dundas had updated the DCI about the contents of the will, and the reactions of the people present. He explained that even in death, Gilbert Lawrence had no intention to give his fortune to non-deserving causes. And according to the father, the son was not deserving.

  ‘Mr Lawrence,’ Isaac said. ‘We’re investigating the death of your father, Gilbert Lawrence.’ Wendy Gladstone sat next to Isaac. Ralph Lawrence sat on the other side of the table. He did not have legal representation.

  ‘That bastard screwed me.’

  ‘I have been updated by Leonard Dundas,’ Isaac said. ‘The conditions placed on you are harsh. It is understandable that you are angry, although it does not obviate the fact that the man was murdered. That is what concerns us, not your enmity towards him.’

  ‘I didn’t dislike the man, only the way he lived, even when we were young.’

  ‘According to your sister, he fulfilled his responsibilities, and neither of you suffered.’

  ‘She’s right, but she was always the favourite. He would confide in her, even ask her advice sometimes.’

  ‘Did he take it?’

  ‘Who knows? Probably not. With me, nothing.’

  ‘Your childhood, unsatisfactory as it may have been to you, does not have any bearing on the death of your father, or does it?’

  ‘What does that mean? I was in Spain, you know that, so do the Spanish police.’

  ‘Along with some unfortunate tourists who put down payments on property they’ll never own. How much did you make there?’

  ‘We broke no laws. And besides, what do people go on holiday for if it’s not to waste money?’

  ‘Mr Lawrence, your reputation precedes you. Whether you conned them does not affect our enquiry. Your father was murdered, and we need to find who was responsible.’

  ‘Why am I here? It can’t be me, and I hadn’t seen the man for decades.’

  ‘But you know people who are capable of murder. Did you expect to receive half of your father’s property portfolio?’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘Had that been promised to you? Had you seen a will to that effect?’

  ‘No, but what else was he going to do with all his money? He couldn’t take it with him, although he would have if it were possible.’

  ‘You’ve been told what was in the will. Your father has placed his trust in Leonard Dundas.’

  ‘My father trusted no one. If Dundas has the assets, he’s there now figuring out how to realise on them. I know what the promise of easy money does to people. The holidaymakers in Spain, believing that they are getting a special deal from another Brit. Do you think they considered the poor soul who was losing money? Do you think they worried if someone else and their family were to be reduced to begging on the street?’

  ‘I doubt if they did,’ Isaac said.

  ‘That’s what makes it so easy. Greed, the most powerful human emotion, and my father has given Leonard Dundas the keys to the vault. That man and his daughter will cream the money, not that anyone will ever know.’

  ‘Smart?’

  ‘Smarter than me. They’ll never be caught.’

  ‘According to Mr Dundas, your father was of sound mind, and had been checked each year for his mental stability,’ Wendy said.

  ‘How? You tell me. My father never left the house, apart from once a week to walk down to the off-licence. He has our mother upstairs, a skeleton, and everyone says he’s sane and the great financial mind.’

  ‘Are you suggesting we check on his mental condition?’

  ‘It’s highly suspicious to me. Okay, in that room at Dundas’s, I blew it, but I’m right, and everyone knows it, even my sister.’

  ‘She’s happy with your father’s bequest,’ Isaac said.

  ‘And why not? She’s got voting rights, and no doubt access to any decisions that Dundas and his daughter make. With all that property, maybe it doesn’t need to be sold. I’ve been cheated by others who want the fortune for themselves. Believe me, there’s skulduggery involved, and Leonard Dundas is a large part of it. Caroline maybe, although I wouldn’t trust that husband of hers.’

  ‘Desmond Dickson. You have your suspicions?’

  ‘Not as such, but the man knows the value of money. He’ll make sure he and Caroline have plenty.’

  ‘Molly Dempster?’

  ‘Let her have what my father bequeathed her. She deserves it.’

  ‘We have difficulty believing that she did not know what was going on in the house,’ Isaac said.

  ‘When I was younger, I used to suspect her and my father.’

  ‘An affair?’

  ‘We used to see more of Molly than our mother sometimes. It was just a childish fantasy, that’s all.’

  ‘Your father and Molly were friendly?’

  ‘Forget I said it. To me, Molly is the one good person. I’ll not hear a word against her.’

  ‘In the meeting at Dundas’s, you stood up and stated that people have demands on you. What did that mean?’

  Wendy noticed Ralph Lawrence shift uncomfortably in his seat.
/>   ‘I needed the money, that’s all.’

  ‘What will you do now?’

  ‘Find someone to contest the will.’

  ‘That will cost money. If Dundas and his daughter are as smart as you say they are, they’ll have covered their tracks well. According to Dundas, a lot of the money is tied up in overseas banks, trusts, offshore-registered companies. Not so easy to get hold of.’

  ‘That’s why I need a good solicitor. They’re out there.’

  ‘I suggest you do not break the law, Mr Lawrence. The English police are not as forgiving as the Spanish.’

  ‘They weren’t forgiving either. Strings were pulled.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘What I said. Do you think they would release me just because my father died?’

  ‘Why are you telling us this?’

  ‘Insurance.’

  ‘Against whom?’

  ‘Just remember that whatever happens, I didn’t kill my father and that Leonard Dundas is not to be trusted.’

  ‘These people? The sort that kill to get what they want?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Did they kill your father?’

  ‘I don’t know, and that’s the honest truth.’

  ‘We need to stay in touch. As much for your protection as for our investigation.’

  ‘Your son, where is he?’ Wendy said.

  ‘I’ve no idea. I’ve not seen him for a few years.’

  ‘Is he in trouble?’

  ‘Not to my knowledge. I found alcohol when I was younger, he found heroin.’

  ‘Does that upset you?’

  ‘He’s an adult. My father was a self-made man. I wanted to be, but my son, he’s a hopeless case.’

  ‘His mother?’

  ‘No idea where she is now. A few wives, a few other women since then.’

  ***

  The interview with Ralph Lawrence had brought a new element into his father’s death. Chief Superintendent Goddard had joined the scheduled meeting in Homicide.

  It now looked as if the investigation was going to be prolonged, and this time with the addition of possible organised crime interference.

  ‘Ralph Lawrence is in trouble,’ Isaac said.

  ‘You could see that he was putting on a brave face, but he was frightened,’ Wendy said. ‘He’s going to disappear again.’

  ‘You’ve got a watch on him?’

  ‘I have, but if he’s in deep with the loan sharks, they’ll not wait long.’

  ‘What are you suggesting?’ Goddard said.

  ‘Either Ralph has borrowed money beyond his ability to repay, and the father’s death came as a godsend, or else he’s borrowed against his perceived inheritance,’ Wendy said.

  ‘If organised crime had killed Gilbert, that would explain the lack of clues,’ Isaac said.

  ‘Are we suggesting that the man’s death was prearranged, murder to order?’ Larry said.

  ‘It’s possible. Ralph may have known that entering an arrangement with the loan sharks came with some conditions: pay the money back with interest, we’ll deal with your father.’

  ‘Would he have entered into such an agreement?’

  ‘Is Ralph the type of person to read the small print or to care about his father?’

  ‘Unlikely,’ Wendy said.

  ‘According to Leonard Dundas, the man has survived by charming gullible and rich women.’

  ‘And once he had his money and tired of them?’

  ‘Cast off, flotsam to the sea. Tell us, Bridget and Wendy, you’re both mature women. Wendy, you’ve met the man, Bridget, you’ve seen him. Pretend you’re rich and lonely, and Ralph Lawrence comes up to you and lays on the charm.’

  ‘Twenty years too old for me, and the man’s going to seed,’ Wendy said.

  ‘He didn’t appeal, not from what I could see,’ Bridget said.

  ‘That’s it,’ Isaac said. ‘The man’s survived due to his charisma, his good manners, his expensive education and his posh voice. He’s never needed to borrow heavily before, but now he’s getting old, and Spain was the make or break. He also knew he only needed a few more years before his father died of natural causes.’

  ‘Men like Gilbert Lawrence don’t die that easy,’ Goddard said. ‘They refuse to accept the possibility. He could have lasted another five, ten, maybe fifteen years.’

  ‘Okay, we’ll concede the possibility, but Ralph’s aware that one day he’ll be fine. And he’s a chancer. He’s had a litany of failed ventures. It could be that he wanted to settle down, get a house in the country, a garden, grow vegetables.’

  ‘Conjecture, short on facts,’ Goddard said.

  ‘That’s the problem,’ Isaac said. ‘We don’t have facts. We have a dead man knifed in his garden, no clues of any significance. We have a great deal of money, and according to the man’s solicitor, a great deal of property.’

  ‘But not going to the man’s children.’

  ‘Not in itself. Caroline, the daughter, received a five million pound one-off payment.’

  ‘Enough?’

  ‘Not if you expected a great deal more. Greed, yet again. Caroline Dickson and her family are stable people. No reason to suspect them at this present time.’

  ‘Money corrupts, you know it,’ Goddard said. ‘I suggest you don’t leave anyone out of your investigation.’

  ‘We won’t.’

  ‘An early arrest?’

  ‘Not looking good,’ Isaac said.

  ‘I was hopeful. You’ve got my confidence but be careful. If the son is involved with dangerous people, who knows where it will end up.’

  With Goddard leaving, Isaac turned to Wendy. ‘Ralph Lawrence’s son, any updates?’

  ‘I’ve got one,’ Bridget said. ‘I did some searching on the internet.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘He’s moved on from being a layabout squatting somewhere or other. He’s now an anarchist, committed to the overthrow of capitalism, and the redistribution of wealth to the needy.’

  ‘With him being one of the needy. Where do we find him?’

  ‘Idiots Incorporated,’ Bridget said.

  ‘Apart from that, do they have a title?’

  ‘Anarchist Revolutionaries of England. Their address belies the fancy title. You’ll find them in a lockup garage down in Putney. Wendy’s got the address.’

  ‘Violent?’ Isaac said.

  ‘Their website states that they are committed to the overthrow of the current government. By any means, according to them.’

  ‘It’s either rent-a-crowd who do little except philosophise or people who believe that murder is acceptable.’

  ‘And Ralph Lawrence’s son had a grandfather who represented the worst excess of what they abhor.’

  ***

  There was one thing that concerned Isaac, the sanity of Gilbert Lawrence.

  Isaac phoned Jill Dundas, made an appointment to meet with her later that day. Meanwhile, Larry Hill and Wendy Gladstone were getting acquainted with London’s very own anarchists. Not that Wendy, a committed socialist, had any problems with people who wanted a better deal for themselves, but violence and extremism did not sit well with her. Larry had formed his opinion the moment they drew up alongside the ramshackle lockup garage, pre-war by the look of it, with its two wooden doors literally falling off their hinges. Outside on the street, four men stood. One was tall, and academic in appearance. ‘All he needs is a soapbox and a spot down at Speaker’s Corner in Hyde Park,’ Larry said.

  Wendy switched off the car engine and looked to where Larry had been pointing. She could see what he was talking about. The academic, judging by his corduroy jacket and his faded jeans, had the other three assembled around him. He was making a speech.

  ‘The workers need us, and they need us now. For too long they have been downtrodden and made to feel the boots of the capitalist overlords on their backsides. That will change when we take control. When we ensure the distribution of the wealth amongst the people. I live for
that day, and so must you.’

  ‘Sorry to disturb you,’ Wendy said, although she wasn’t concerned if they were upset. A check on the Anarchist Revolutionaries of England website had identified the academic as Professor Giles Helmsley, faculty member of the London School of Economics until he staged a demonstration inside the main building complaining about the disparity in salaries between the teaching faculty and those working in administration. Once evicted from the LSE – Bridget had done the research – he had drifted from organisation to organisation, demonstration to demonstration, until he had founded the ARE.

  ‘A smart man, once,’ Larry said.

  ‘Disturbed,’ Wendy said.

  Helmsley had taken no notice of her the first time. ‘Mr Helmsley, a moment of your time,’ Wendy shouted again.

  Helmsley, temporarily interrupted, looked Wendy straight in the eye. ‘The filth, I suppose,’ he said to his audience of three.

  ‘If, by that, you mean a police officer charged with protecting you and every other ratbag from themselves and others, then I am. Sergeant Wendy Gladstone. A few minutes of your time, if you please.’

  ‘We do not recognise your right to be here. We have dispensed with the need for the capitalist lackeys.’

  ‘No doubt you haven’t dispensed with their fortnightly handouts of money for the unemployed, the vacuous, and the just plain stupid. And a public footpath is open to all people, even the police.’

  ‘Is that an insult? If it is, I will be forced to take action.’

  ‘What? Sue me? Threaten me with violence?’

  ‘I will defend my rights as a citizen of this country. Neither you nor anyone else has a right to criticise me or take action against me.’

  ‘Freedom of the masses, is that it?’

  ‘If you understood our manifesto, you would agree.’

  Helmsley, realising that he had met his match, turned away from the three converts and came over to where Wendy and Larry stood.

  ‘What do you want? I’ve not broken any law,’ Helmsley said.

  ‘We’re not saying you have,’ Wendy said. ‘We need to find Michael Lawrence.’

  ‘Never heard of him.’