“I guess we’ll have to send it eventually, but they’re going to come here for us to do an initial review. Apparently, the first look-see should tell a lot, but it won’t be conclusive.”
“When will they be here?”
“In a week or so. We don’t need this distraction. With Dad gone, I need to concentrate on the business.”
“Of course you do.” Her voice was a soothing balm. “Can’t Eva delay these people. I don’t see how any of you can focus on this at the moment.”
“If only. This woman is accusing dad of selling a forged painting. It’s a police matter, and we need to understand what has happened here. What a bloody mess.”
She wrapped her arms around him and enveloped him in comfort. At least they had each other.
◆◆◆
Eva sighed as she rolled over in bed. She was back in the house she adored, and it was all hers. She even had the land, and, best of all, she finally had her art collection. She’d chosen and discovered most of the pieces herself, and as Kurt’s wealth had grown, so had her purse, and she’d built a fabulous collection. She’d not stand for any nonsense about fakes. She’d finalise arrangements for an in-depth analysis as soon as possible.
She stretched, luxuriating in how matters now stood. Now it was entirely hers. The problem was going to be how she cared for the collection. She would need to find the money from somewhere. And that wouldn’t be cheap. A loud noise from outside caught her attention. A crunch on the gravel outside the French windows, followed by a sharp knock on the glass pane. There was a shadow outside her window. Anticipation fired her blood.
She threw back the covers and rose, quickly moving past the side window that was tightly shuttered against the night. She’d forgotten to close the plantation blinds across the glass doors. The only drawback to this place was that her room wasn’t on a higher level. Her heart hammered inside her chest, thudding against her ribcage.
The shifting clouds chased the moon and fully revealed the large shape outside. She unlatched and opened the door. “What are you doing here? Get inside before anyone sees you.”
He sauntered in. “It’s 4:00 a.m. Nils should have finished partying, or whatever else he does to be out of it most of the time, and I’m sure Rudy is tucked up in bed with Angela. As to why I’m here, I wanted—no, I needed—to see you. I hate it when we have to be vile to each other when someone else is around.”
“You know it’s the only way. At least for the moment.”
Richard closed the door behind him before reaching out and pulling her close to his chest. He simply held her. Part of her wanted to sink into his strength and be comforted by his warmth, but she couldn’t. She pulled back. “Are you crazy? After everything we’ve gone through, you take a risk like this? With all the other crap that’s going on?”
“Darling, it’s fine. I came through the woods. The house is in complete darkness. No one saw me.”
She relaxed, but only a little. “I suppose that’s okay, but what are you doing here?
He moved across the room, kicked off his shoes and lay on the bed.
“Can’t a man visit his love?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“We heard this morning that the Royal Court threw out the appeal and the right-of-way had been rescinded. What does that mean for the land, which is now owned by Eva?” Le Claire asked Paul Armstrong.
Armstrong said, “As soon as you asked to meet up and told me what you wanted to talk about, I did a little bit of digging. Removing that right-of-way gives whoever owns it the absolute entitlement to deal with the land in any way they want. The courts would not look favourably on another appeal.”
“So it could be freely developed, for example, into a block of flats?”
Armstrong shook his head in apparent disgust. “Is that what someone is trying to do? Because this island really needs more apartment blocks, and luxurious ones at that.”
Le Claire ignored the sarcasm in Armstrong’s voice, but he agreed with him in any event.
Armstrong continued, “The land is theirs to do as the owners please, and, as there are no restrictions placed upon it, and there is no free access by the public, then yes, they could build an apartment block, as long as they have the appropriate permissions from planning.”
“And what does this do to the value of the land?”
“I’m not an estate agent, but I would imagine the value would increase dramatically. If Kurt Englebrook had entered into any form of arrangement or was thinking of doing so in relation to developing that land, I guess any deal struck would have taken into consideration the fact that the developer was taking a chance; and by that I mean that they would be out of pocket if the development didn’t go ahead. It’s a different position now. Whoever owns the land can set the price in any deal they’re looking to do.”
“Okay, thanks. Back to the appeal being kicked out. Can it be brought back to the court?”
“It will take money to do so, and I don’t believe the group funding this has limitless pockets. Their financial backers will no doubt consider whether they think it’s a worthwhile investment to throw more money at making another appeal. But it may be that they withdraw from the matter. It’s what I would advise a client of mine to do, especially as the court has expressed their view that the land should remain private. The reason being the public access area is too near to the manor. I’m not commenting on the rights or wrongs, but that is their decision.”
“Which means that Eva Englebrook is sitting on what could turn out to be a substantial sum of money and could name her terms in any transaction.”
◆◆◆
Eva buzzed them through the gates, and when they reached the parking area, she was waiting for them on the steps, a distracted expression in place. “You two again. I don’t know why you don’t move in here. Your time would be better spent finding out who killed Kurt.”
“Don’t forget we’re also looking for who killed Susan Jones.”
She seemed on edge, and her eyes glittered with something indefinable.
“Yes, of course. Anyway, I told Elaine, the administrator, that you needed to see her. She got back from her two-week holiday yesterday. She’s obviously extremely upset about Kurt and Susan. She’s at the office block and is expecting you.”
What was apparent was that she wanted to be rid of them and quick. What had they interrupted? “Thank you. Is everything all right?”
“What? Yes, of course. Buzz the gate when you want to leave.”
She didn’t exactly slam the door in their face, but she did disappear quickly. They hadn’t noticed it before, but there was a smaller building behind the one that housed Kurt’s and Susan’s offices. A red-eyed woman waited for them.
“Hi, I’m Elaine Brooker. I got back from India yesterday. I found out about Kurt and Susan as soon as I managed to connect to Wi-Fi again.” She rubbed her hands together. “This is terrible, just terrible.”
Le Claire said, “This must be a terrible shock for you. I’m sorry to get straight to the point, but we need access to Mr Englebrook’s personal bank statements.”
“Oh, of course. Rudy said it’s okay to give you what you need. Over what period?”
“The last year will do to start.” Louise Unsworth-Murphy claimed the purported sales of artwork to her father had been made within the last twelve months.
She clattered away at a modern desktop high-tech monitor and flashy keyboard. A machine whirred away as it spat out page upon page of the paper. “There you go. These are all personal accounts.”
Le Claire took them from her. Now all they had to do was pinpoint the money coming in, and that would be one question solved.
Elaine Brooker sniffed back tears. “And to think I thought the mess was the worst thing I was going to come back to.”
“Pardon, what mess?”
“It was nothing, really. Susan’s work area was left in a state, papers on the desk, the floor, drawers lying open.”
That got
his attention. “And this was unusual?”
“Absolutely. Susan is a neat freak. Was, I mean.” The tears flowed.
“Do you know if anything was missing?”
“Not that I could see. The mess looked—well, angry, I suppose. The stuff Susan usually had on her desk was on the floor, everything all over the place in a jumble.”
◆◆◆
Eva watched from the sitting room window as the police drove away. She had more on her mind right now than their investigation. They’d arrived as she was reading the email for a second time. A second heart-soaring time. She quickly opened her laptop and scanned the text. Yes, she hadn’t been mistaken. Her hunch had paid off.
The most important thing to her right now was protecting her boys, and what she’d discovered was earth-shattering, at least to her family.
She sat back and considered her next moves. Were there any angles she should consider? What would the ramifications be? Satisfied that only good would come out of her actions—well, for the boys, that was—she quickly drafted an email. She hadn’t told anyone what she was doing. They’d have thought her vengeful and crazy, but she’d had a hunch. One that was about to pay off—big-time.
She rummaged in her bag for her phone and scrolled through her contacts. She’d rarely rung this number before, perhaps she never had, but she had kept a note of it—just in case. It rang and rang, clicking onto voicemail. She dutifully left a message.
“Jessica, it’s Eva. I need to speak to you about something. It’s urgent. Give me a call.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“What do you mean you can’t find the incoming transfers?” Le Claire stared at Hunter.
“The money didn’t go into any of his personal accounts.”
Dewar interrupted, “That’s impossible. We’ve seen the transfer instruction.”
Hunter shrugged. “It’s simple. None of Kurt Englebrook’s accounts matches that bank sort code or number. His local bank has checked, and they have never had any incoming funds from that bank account.”
Le Claire thought for a moment. “Was it sent to a foreign account? Look into where it is.”
“I already did that, sir. It is a Jersey bank, and I’ve sent them a request for information. It could take a couple of days to get it.”
“Fine. This case regarding the purported fake art is separate to the murder investigation, but I don’t want it to be overlooked.”
Dewar said, “There is every chance that this was a fraud carried out by a third party using Englebrook’s name.”
“I know, but we need to follow every avenue.”
◆◆◆
Rudy pointedly glanced at his watch as a dishevelled Nils rushed into the study.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry. I went for a run and lost track of time. Are we on the call yet?”
“No. I’ve conferenced into London, but I’ve muted our end until all the board members are present.”
“The notice calling the meeting didn’t give much away. Any idea what it’s about?”
“Nope, and that worries me. Why would the chairman call a meeting that I, the acting CEO, don’t know anything about? I feel blindsided, and that bothers me.”
Nils settled himself across from Rudy. Both stared at the telephone. Silence. Rudy assumed that the tense expression on Nils’s face was mirrored on his own. He jumped as a cultured voice broke out from the speakerphone. “Thank you. Everyone is here now, and I declare this board meeting of KE Fund Management open. We have a quorum. As this is an extraordinary meeting, I shall launch straight into the matter at hand. Additional discussions with the bank have stalled.
Nils said, “These are unusual circumstances. Surely the key-man clause was to protect from a situation where Dad sold the company and cut his ties with the business?
“To the bank, it’s cut and dried. They no longer consider us a strong borrower, and why should they? We don’t have the money. We can’t repay. We used long-term investments as security. They’ll be sold, and the bank won’t care about getting the best price, only that they get repaid. The market will lose confidence, the share price will tumble, followed by a fire sale on the shares, and we’ll go bust.” His voice trailed off, his last words a tangible presence in the room.
“But the business is worth so much more. I don’t understand.”
There was a pause for a moment. “Not at the moment, it isn’t. Kurt was the driving force of the US operation. We’re throwing good money after bad to shore it up. I called the meeting to discuss what we do.”
Rudy said, “What are the options?”
Robert responded with a weary sigh. “If Kurt were alive, we wouldn’t have this situation, and he would be funding the US expansion. But he isn’t, so I need to ask if you can?”
Could they? Technically, their mother had the house, the land and the art collection. Not them. However, she doted on them and would surely agree to sell whatever was needed to raise the funding to save the business. They could probably get close to £20 million for the house and land as one lot, perhaps more if they sold to Vautier. They could get far more than that for the art collection. But would their mother ever consider selling the art?
Rudy said, “What are the other options?”
“The only way we can repay the loan is by liquidating the majority of the company’s assets. However, that won’t go down well with the stock market, and we could lose everything. I have to say I am at a complete loss. I simply don’t know what to do.”
Anxious voices cut across each other as the other board members expressed their concerns.
Rudy looked at Nils. This was not the legacy they had expected, nor relied on. He looked down as his telephone beeped yet again. The message was clear: call me immediately or else.
He pressed the phone keypad and muted the call on their side. “It’s Harry. I better call him.” He dialled the number from his contacts. It was answered almost immediately.
The voice was gruff. “You took your time, son.”
“I’m in a meeting. It’s important.”
“And what I have to say to you isn’t? I’ll be brief. You get your mother under control. I’ve invested almost £1 million in this project so far what with planning, architect fees and site testing. She said she isn’t interested in developing the place.”
“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I can’t control my mother. It’s obviously a huge mistake, but if she doesn’t want to go ahead with the development, there’s nothing I can do.”
“Well, you’d better find something, son, because I’m telling you I will be developing that land, come what may.”
The call disconnected, and he shivered. The walls were closing in, and he didn’t know where to turn.
◆◆◆
Hunter rushed into Le Claire’s office, a pile of papers in his hand. “Sir, sir, you have to see this.”
Le Claire took the papers, contracts by the look of them, and started flicking through the pages. “What are they?”
“They are legal agreements concerning the sale of works of art by Kurt Englebrook to various third parties. And the conditions confirm Mrs Unsworth-Murphy’s statement. The person buying the art had to agree they wouldn’t openly display the artwork or let anyone know they owned it during Kurt Englebrook’s lifetime.”
“Good work. Where did you get all this?”
“I’ve been going through all of the paperwork that was removed from Susan Jones’s home. All of these were found in her bedroom. This was with them.” He held up a handwritten letter on plain, heavy notepaper. The paper was crumpled, and the neat handwriting faded. “It’s a letter. Written by Susan Jones to Kurt Englebrook.” Hunter blushed. “In it, she says that the past months were a huge mistake and that if they were going to continue their working relationship, they could never mention it again. She goes on to say that she has come to her senses and she didn’t know what came over her.” Le Claire leaned back in his chair. You waited for ages at the bus stop, and then two turned up a
t the same time.
“That paper looks pretty yellowed. Is there a date on the letter?”
His mobile rang. The caller ID displayed a local cell phone. He briefly held up his hand. “Hold that thought.”
He didn’t recognise the number but quickly answered. The voice was light and pleasant.
“Hello, Inspector Le Claire. This is Elaine Brooker. I work in the Englebrook family office. We met earlier.”
“Of course. How can I help you?”
“I opened the mail this morning, and a bank statement made me think. I know you asked for the information on Mr Englebrook’s personal accounts, and obviously, I don’t have anything to do with his business’s financials. But I wondered if it would be helpful for you to see the business account he opened in his personal name.”
Le Claire sat up in his chair. “Yes, I think that would be helpful. Why did he open a business account in his personal name?”
“He said it was for ease. I helped him open the account. But I was under instructions not to bookkeep that and pass the bank statements straight to him. I didn’t have to make any copies.”
He put the call on speaker, so Hunter could listen in. “May I ask what the account number and sort code of that account is?”
She reeled off the numbers.
Hunter checked his tablet and nodded. He was grinning as he gave the thumbs-up.
“Thank you. Could you let us see the statement that came in today?”
“Yes, of course. If you give me the details, I’ll scan it straight across.”
He disconnected the call. “While we wait for the statement, go through those contracts. We need to track down who the art was sold to. We’ll need to approach them. Also, get onto central admin to see if we have any art experts we can call on. They should be from the UK and not have any connection to the island, or anyone connected to the murder investigations.”
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