DCI Isaac Cook Box Set 2

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DCI Isaac Cook Box Set 2 Page 33

by Phillip Strang


  ‘We still need to know where the money and the assets are,’ Ralph said.

  ‘We can afford to give it a couple of weeks. Jill Dundas may prove to be more flexible.’

  Chapter 16

  Graham Picket raised his eyes from the desk and let out a deep sigh. There, standing in front of him, DCI Isaac Cook and DI Larry Hill.

  ‘Wouldn’t it have just been easier for me to send you an email with my report attached?’ Picket, a humourless man of few words, said.

  ‘Probably, but you’re a busy man. Rather than waiting for the full report, we were just interested in your professional opinion,’ Isaac said. Neither Picket nor Isaac had much in common. Isaac was personable, the sort of person that people opened up to; with Picket, most people turned away, and the man knew it, but he had come from a dour family, and he wasn’t going to change, the reason he was a lifelong bachelor.

  ‘Seeing that you’re here. If Dorothy Lawrence had been murdered, there’s no way that I can ascertain the truth. Analysis of the bones reveals nothing, other than she had broken her left arm as a child and a leg in her thirties. Approximations though, and no doubt you can check the records. But you’ll not bring a case against her husband even if you wanted to. Unless you have any reason to delay, it would be possible to release what remains of her for burial.’

  ‘Cremation? Larry said.

  ‘I would suggest burial,’ Picket said. ‘That way if you need to exhume her remains, they’ll still be there. Gives me the creeps thinking about her in that house.’

  ‘Hold off for now with Dorothy Lawrence. What about Leonard Dundas?’

  ‘Apart from the normal ailments of a man in his late seventies, Leonard Dundas was in good health. He suffered a heart attack, nothing more. I’ll send you a report, more technical, but his death is not suspicious.’

  ‘His body can be released?’ Isaac said.

  ‘I’ll sign a death certificate and release the body to his family if that is what you want.’

  ***

  It was clear that Leonard Dundas’s death was going to have repercussions. As had been suspected by Homicide and the Lawrence family, the man had been calling the shots for a long time.

  Isaac and Larry visited Dundas’s house, found the man’s daughter dressed in black. ‘Sorry about your loss,’ Isaac said.

  ‘He was a great man, always cared for his family,’ Jill Dundas said. It was the first time for the two police officers in the house, and it was, as expected, impressive.

  The woman was on her own in the house, save for a cat asleep in one corner of the room.

  ‘You live here on your own?’ Isaac said.

  ‘With my father. I’m not married, but you know that already.’

  ‘Your career took precedence?’

  ‘I was married once, but it didn’t work out. He wanted children, I didn’t. Nothing sinister, and we keep in contact, the occasional weekend away together.’

  ‘It’s unusual.’

  ‘Not to us, it isn’t. He’s still single, so am I. We should never have married, stayed as lovers.’

  ‘And his wanting children?’

  ‘He had them with another woman, but it was me he wanted, not her. She was purely the vessel.’

  ‘It sounds cold-hearted.’

  ‘I suppose you harbour illusions of romantic love, happy families, the children with their friends, birthday parties. None of that drives me, apart from the romantic love, and I have that from Carl.’

  ‘Do you have someone coming over to be with you?’ Isaac said. He had met the woman on a couple of occasions, but this time she seemed hard, as if she was pretending to be strong and resilient when she wasn’t. He wasn’t sure what to make of her, but then he had never been sure of her father.

  ‘My father knew his time was up. He had completed what needed to be done, and we had spoken about his death. It is not a time for overt displays of sadness or joy, just time to reflect on his passing, and what he and Gilbert Lawrence had achieved.’

  ‘Gilbert and your father?’

  ‘Yes. What else did you think? Gilbert was another great man, but as with Alexander the Great and Hephaestion, or as with Lennon and McCartney if you want a more contemporary reference, he needed someone with whom he had an infinity to implement his ideas, to deal with the legalities, the financial controls.’

  ‘And now you have the most complete knowledge of what Gilbert and your father set up.’

  ‘I do, and if the Lawrence family thinks I’m an easy touch, then they are very wrong. I was schooled by two great men. They taught me well and believe me when I say that I was a great student.’

  ‘Which means you’ll be walking into the lion’s den the next time you meet with them.’

  ‘With them, I’m the lion.’

  ‘Why are you telling us this?’ Larry said.

  ‘I’m telling you because you will be talking to Caroline and Ralph Lawrence, and no doubt Michael. If the young anarchist thinks he’s going to get special treatment because he’s cleaned himself up and because he’s a charmer, he can think again.’

  ‘You seem to know a lot about Michael,’ Isaac said.

  ‘It pays to know who you’re dealing with, their foibles, their strengths, although with Michael, he’ll soon turn back to the easy road, even with Giles Helmsley in his ear.’

  ‘You know about Helmsley?’

  ‘I know everything. Even Caroline and Ralph meeting, planning on how to take control, but it’s not going to happen.’

  ‘It’s a big challenge for you. Aren’t you frightened that whoever killed Gilbert Lawrence could target you.’

  ‘Why? I have the key to the vault, no one else. Gilbert never did, but his death brings the murderer closer to me, I realise that.’

  ‘Are you convinced that Gilbert was murdered for his money?’

  ‘What else? And none of the Lawrence family knew of the man’s will.’

  ‘You did, so did your father.’

  ‘Why would we kill him? We had access to every facet of the man’s empire.’

  ‘The man was getting older, possibly senile, dementia setting in. At some stage there was a risk that he wouldn’t be able to pass the sanity checks, and even if he did, they don’t hold much weight in law,’ Isaac said.

  ‘They’ve kept the family at bay, and even though Gilbert had met with no one for many years, except for my father, he was well aware that the rats were ready to pick over the bones.’

  ‘Did you ever speak to him?’

  ‘Yes. My father always said it was only him, but sometimes we would receive instructions, and I would speak to him, but only on the phone, never in person.’

  ‘And what did he sound like?’

  ‘Lucid, although a little slow, but his mind was sharp. Sometimes he’d even share a joke with me. He may have been eccentric, but he and I got on well. He once said that he wished I had been his daughter.’

  ‘Derogatory about Caroline and Ralph?’

  ‘Don’t get the impression that we had long conversations. They were always formal, business-related, but sometimes… It was almost as if he regretted the life he led, and he would make a personal comment.’

  ‘Such as his respect for you?’

  ‘Yes. And one day you’ll be in my office, or down at your police station, trying to get me to admit to the murder.’

  ‘Why would we do that?’

  ‘I’m innocent, and you would be clutching at straws. No one had any immediate gain on Gilbert’s death, and there was no clear direction as to who would benefit. The only two people who knew the contents of the will were my father and me. My father wouldn’t have killed him, but I could have.’

  ‘Is this pre-emptive? Assuming that by giving us the scenario we would have come up with, it will somehow exclude you from our investigation.’

  ‘In part. I did not kill Gilbert, I’m just letting you know. If you take me in for questioning, you will need to be sure of your facts. And now, if you don’t mind, I
would prefer to be on my own.’

  ‘She would be capable of murder,’ Larry said once he and Isaac had left.

  ‘I liked her,’ Isaac replied. ‘The woman may be hard, but there’s a vulnerability about her. She misses her father greatly, and regardless of what she says, she is a woman who has forgone a lot for her ambition. In her quiet moments she must be very sad.’

  ‘She could still be a murderer.’

  ‘It’s possible that she is. She is, as she said, the person with the strongest motive.’

  Chapter 17

  Gary Frost, a man who had lent money to Ralph Lawrence when he was high-risk, did not relish taking a back seat. But that was what had happened. So much so that the man had chosen not to answer his phone calls. Ted Samson, the short man who had been tailing Lawrence, had been replaced. Now there were two, sometimes three and they were varying their schedules. Now his tails were a housewife in her forties, a retired army officer, and a schoolboy in his teens, all appreciative of the extra cash in hand.

  Frost phoned his men downstairs. ‘Bring Lawrence in but be careful. No witnesses, nothing suspicious, and no roughing up.’

  Yolanda, the former Mrs Ralph Lawrence, sat in her hotel room; she was bored. She had been in London for two days: the first, jet-lagged, the second talking to her former husband and preparing to meet a son she had not seen for a long time. As she walked down Oxford Street, her eager eyes on every shop window, her gold-plated credit card firmly in her handbag, Gucci, of course, she had to admit to feeling slightly better, although the climate was not to her liking.

  Easily solved, she thought, as she deviated from her route and entered one of the shops. Forty minutes later, a uniformed doorman opened the door as she left. She walked further on, no more feeling the cold, a fur-lined coat wrapped around her. She cared little for the man she had left behind in Antigua, but his credit card had not let her down. She knew she was callous, but if Ralph were about to secure the golden egg, to become almost as rich as Midas if he had his way, then she could see a change in her affections.

  Ralph had a talent for spotting people keeping tabs on his movements, his wife did not. From across the road, at two different vantage points, two people kept watch.

  It had been Frost who had seen the complication. The word was that Yolanda was no pushover. Ralph had made his money through his charm and his ability to set up plausible if ultimately worthless investment strategies. Yolanda had the looks and the ability, even in her early fifties, to seduce men, the richer, the better. The man in Antigua, pushing seventy, was barely able to keep her satisfied, but it was not what drove her. The fortune he had made in shipping or transport or something – she was never sure what, never cared either – came with a credit card, the best jewellery, and an expensive car wherever she was. In London, the car wasn’t critical, although the jewellery was first-rate, and the credit card glinted each time she showed it. A jewellery shop beckoned, and she went inside. Outside were two people, neither aware of the other. Both took their phones out and made their calls.

  ***

  While Yolanda enjoyed herself, or as much as she could, knowing that the meeting with her son was scheduled for the following day, Ralph could not say the same for himself.

  As he left his flat in Bayswater a man that he knew came up to him. ‘Mr Frost wants to see you,’ he said. He was big, at least a head and shoulders taller than Ralph.

  ‘I said I would be in contact. Things are progressing,’ Ralph said, knowing full well that his dismissal of Frost’s request would have little effect.

  ‘Mr Frost, he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.’ The tone was polite but menacing.

  ‘Tomorrow.’

  The firm hand on the collar, the bundling into the back seat of a BMW 7 Series was not violent, although sitting wedged between two burly men who looked like they were wrestlers at the weekend was not welcome.

  ‘I’ll have something to say about this to your boss,’ Ralph said, more sheepishly than when he had been standing out on the street.

  ‘Do what you want. We’re following orders. Mr Frost, he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.’

  No more was said until the car pulled up outside Frost’s place. This time Ralph got out of the car on his own, no hands on him, and walked to the lift. He pressed the button for the penthouse.

  ‘Ralph, good to see you,’ Frost said as the door opened on Ralph’s arrival. ‘It’s been some time since we sat down for a chat.’

  ‘I thought we had an arrangement.’

  ‘And so we do.’ The man was effusive and overly friendly. Ralph knew that this was when he was at his most dangerous.

  The two men sat on comfortable chairs in the living room. A view of the River Thames, the skyscrapers of Canary Wharf on the other side of the river. Each man held a glass of red wine. Ralph Lawrence feigned relaxed; he was not. He knew the man to be vicious and able to impart pain through his heavies at any time.

  Frost sat nearby, attempting to assess the man opposite. Was he a major player? Was he trustworthy? Would he ever get any of his father’s money, or should he just break one of his legs now and squeeze him for whatever was owing? Or should he pressure the son, even the new-found ex-wife?

  ‘What do you want?’ Ralph said as he put his drink to one side.

  ‘What I always want: money. And your friendship.’

  ‘Frost, you’re not the sort of man who wants or needs friends. You enjoy threatening people, gaining an advantage, and having them thrown into the back of a car and brought to you here.’

  ‘There was no throwing, just gentle coercion. You’ve kept away, Ralph, not even answering my phone calls. I was worried, thought you may be ill, coming down with a cold.’

  ‘Cut it out, Frost, and get to the point.’ Ralph knew that acting firmly with the man was risky, but he had little to lose, and besides, he had leverage, money leverage. With his sister and him working together, even his brother-in-law, there was a possibility that they might bring it off. Now they only had Jill Dundas to deal with, given that her father had done them all a favour and keeled over with a heart attack.

  ‘You’re pushing your luck here, Ralph.’ That was one thing about Frost’s intimidating tactics, he always maintained the same calm manner of speaking. No bad language, no raising of his voice, no leaning over the hapless fool who had got into his clutches. It was more frightening than a thug looking you in the face from one foot away and shouting at you, Ralph knew that. He wanted to leave, but he couldn’t.

  ‘I still intend to pay you back. The situation’s changed.’

  ‘I know that. Dundas has died, and your wife is back in town.’

  ‘Ex-wife. We haven’t had anything to do with each other for many years.’

  ‘She’s a gold-digger from what I’ve been told.’

  ‘Just you leave her alone. Our arrangement is between you and me, not Yolanda, not Michael, and definitely not my sister. Is that clear?’

  ‘You still owe me money.’

  ‘If I pay you now?’

  ‘The original four hundred thousand plus interest.’

  ‘How much?’ Frost’s offer seemed the preferred option to Ralph, but he wasn’t sure how to get the money. Gilbert Lawrence’s fortune would take years to sort out, although with the money he had been given by Caroline, plus a share of the shopping centre sale, another three to four hundred thousand, then it may be possible.

  ‘Pay me today, and it’s just over one million two hundred thousand.’

  ‘How? That’s outrageous!’ Ralph said, getting up from his chair and pacing around the room. ‘I can give you two hundred thousand now, more when the sale of one of the properties goes through.’

  ‘How much and how long?’

  ‘Four to five months, and then I can only give you another four hundred thousand.’

  ‘What a shame,’ Frost said. ‘Such a pleasant meeting and you go and ruin it by giving me bad news.’

  ‘What do you mean? You’re ahead on
the deal.’

  ‘You’re forgetting the interest. It’s ten per cent per week.’

  ‘I never agreed to that. That means I can never pay you.’

  ‘Pay me now what I want, or in four months when we have another conversation, it will be at least five million, probably closer to six.’

  Ralph had been feeling good that morning when he had woken. The first meeting since Dundas’s death had been scheduled for the following day, and he was going along as Caroline’s adviser, not that Jill Dundas would approve. She’d complain, both he and his sister knew that, but not as effectively as her father. And now, as he sat with Frost, Ralph knew that he was back where he had been before. In Spain, he had had the money, or he did until his partner upon release from prison had absconded with the lot. It was either pay Frost what he wanted now, and only Caroline could help, or he could not afford to wait for his father’s fortune. He’d have to make a run for it, hope that Frost and his men could not find him, and then somehow ensure he could maintain his stake on his father’s fortune. And then there was the added complication of Michael and his association with the anarchist fool Helmsley. And what about Yolanda? She still looked lovely, though mercenary, and when he had picked her up at the airport, he had recognised that she was still fond of him, and he of her. It had only been money that parted them, but now he had the chance for that money. He had known when she had come out from customs that he wanted her back in his life.

  But Frost was in the way, and if Caroline wouldn’t help with the money, then Yolanda wasn’t possible.

  Ralph knew he was compromised. He had to act quickly and decisively. He was afraid. ‘One week,’ he said. ‘The money in full.’

  Chapter 18

  Michael Lawrence met up with his mother on a Tuesday in a restaurant not far from the Waverley Hills Centre. Neither was comfortable in the presence of the other.

  ‘Mother, a long time,’ Michael said.

 

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