Fear the Past

by J M Dalgliesh

  “I could use one of those as well,” she agreed. “Do we ever get the balance right?”

  Caslin’s face split a wry grin as he shook his head slightly, “Tipping the scales the opposite way every now and again would make a nice change though, wouldn’t it?”

  “Life could be worse,” she said softly, watching Jody Wyer being loaded into the unmarked mortuary van. “Shall we go?” He nodded and Hunter pulled away. The constable manning the gate opened it and Caslin acknowledged his efforts with a brief flick of the hand as they passed through.

  Chapter Five

  It was mid-morning by the time they arrived at Blue Line’s offices. Located on the upper two floors of an imposing old Victorian terraced house, previously residential but now converted for commercial use. The ground floor was assigned to a small architect’s firm and the access to the private detective’s office was by way of a metal fire escape running up the side of the building. Parking was limited to the width of the building’s frontage. Caslin noted the plaque on the wall, sited in the only empty bay denoting where Jody Wyer’s car would be parked.

  A Jaguar was in the adjacent bay, less than two years old and was designated as belonging to another employee of the company, a T. Mason. Caslin thought the name sounded familiar to him but he couldn’t place it. They made their way up the stairs, their feet clattering on the metal beneath them as they went. The recent rain followed by the subsequent drop in temperature made the route up precarious as the water had frozen, but they reached the top without event. Caslin opened the outer door and ushered Hunter into the lobby. The interior had a makeshift appearance to it. The walls were painted white. The carpets were a block-blue colour and thin but hard wearing. Everything around them was functional but could have been any bland office offering any service. Nothing denoted they were in premises specialising in private investigations.

  A woman appeared from a small room holding a steaming cup of tea before her and was so startled by their presence she almost jumped at the sight of them. Caslin smiled.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, glancing back towards the entrance and indicating it with his hand. “The door was open.”

  She gathered herself swiftly, also apologising. “No, please, it’s not a problem. I just didn’t hear the door. It was probably the kettle,” she said. “How can I help?”

  Caslin assessed her. She was in her late twenties, attired in business dress and fastidiously applied make up and hair. There didn’t appear to be a reception of any kind, so Caslin was unsure of whether he was speaking to an employee or an investigator. He took out his warrant card and stepped forward enabling her to see it.

  “I’m Detective Inspector Caslin. This is DS Hunter,” he said. “And you are?”

  “Donna Lafferty,” she replied. “I’m Mr Wyer’s personal assistant.”

  “Can I ask when you last saw Mr Wyer?”

  “A couple of days ago,” Donna said. “He’s not been in much this past week or so.”

  “Is that unusual?” Hunter asked.

  “Not really. He’s been very busy recently. He’s often out of the office for days on end.”

  “And what about speaking to him… when was that?” Caslin asked.

  “The last time?” she clarified. Caslin nodded. “The same time. Two nights ago. Why? What’s going on?” She said the last with a tinge of anxiety creeping into her tone as the realisation dawned on her they were there on a business call. “What’s he gotten himself into now?”

  “Can you tell us what Mr Wyer was working on?” Caslin asked, but Donna’s reply was interrupted by the arrival of another.

  “I thought I heard voices,” a barrel-chested man said, stepping out from a room at the end of the narrow corridor into the interior. Caslin took his measure, late-fifties, overweight with dark brown hair swept up in a quiff that was almost certainly coloured from an over-the-counter bottle. He approached with an affable manner, a booming voice that echoed in the confined space. “How can we help?” he said, grinning. His face had reddish tones to his cheeks and he was already breathing heavily as he offered Caslin his hand in greeting.

  “They’re from the police, Mr Mason,” Donna said.

  “Detectives Hunter and Caslin,” Caslin said, taking the offered hand.

  “Pleasure,” he replied, shaking Caslin’s hand warmly. “Tony Mason. What can we do for you?”

  “I’m afraid we have some bad news for you regarding Mr Wyer,” Caslin said. “We haven’t confirmed it officially but a member of the public found Mr Wyer early this morning.”

  “Found him?” Mason replied, a look of surprise crossing his face.

  “I’m afraid, we believe Mr Wyer is dead,” Caslin stated. Donna gave off an audible gasp whereas Mason appeared similarly shocked.

  “I… I… don’t understand… He’s dead? How?”

  “That’s yet to be determined,” Hunter offered. “Is there somewhere that we can talk? We need to gather a bit of background to help us figure this out.”

  “Yes… yes, of course,” Mason said. “I know how it works. Please, come with me to my office.”

  Mason placed a reassuring hand onto Donna’s shoulder before turning and leading them back along the corridor to the room he’d originally appeared from. Caslin followed with Hunter a step behind. As they made their way, the floorboards creaked and groaned under their weight and the corridor itself felt like it slanted at an angle towards the rear of the building. A sign of the building’s age. As they walked, Caslin remembered why he recognised Mason’s name. He was a former CID officer based out of Acomb Road Station covering the west of York. Caslin was reasonably confident Mason left the force prior to his arrival at Fulford Road, but he was certain it was him.

  They entered the office and were met by another woman seated at one of the two desks present in the room. She was older than Donna, perhaps in her fifties, and a similar age to Mason.

  “This is Beth, my P.A.,” Mason said, the joviality in his tone no longer evident. Beth rose from her desk and greeted them with an awkward smile glancing across at her boss, aware of how his mood had changed. They introduced themselves to her. “It’s Jody,” Mason explained, looking to her and offering them both a seat. “He’s dead.”

  “My God,” she exclaimed, open-mouthed. “How?”

  “We’re working on that,” Caslin said, noting Donna entering behind them. Her eyes were brimming with tears and Beth quickly crossed over and placed a supportive arm around her shoulder, offering her a tissue. “Can you tell us about Jody’s caseload?”

  Mason shrugged, “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “What sort of work do you take on?” Hunter asked.

  “Run-of-the-mill stuff really,” Mason explained. “We do insurance fraud, personal injury claims… Oh, and the usual marital affairs and such like. The former two are a bit of a money-spinner and the latter is… well… commonplace.”

  “What was Jody currently working on?” Caslin asked. Mason looked to Donna.

  “He had three or four cases on the go,” she said, her voice cracking.

  “Were any of those cases threatening in nature?” Hunter asked. “Anyone taking offence at his attention?”

  “Are you saying Jody’s been murdered?” Mason cut in.

  “What makes you ask?” Caslin countered.

  “The questions you’re asking,” he explained. “I’ve been there. I know the drill. You said he was found dead. You said nothing about anything suspicious.”

  “Can you think of any reason someone would wish him to come to any harm?” Caslin asked. Mason sank back in his chair, shaking his head.

  “No. None at all. Jody is… was… one of the good guys.”

  Caslin looked to the other two who both shook their heads. “Was he married?”

  “Divorced. A long time ago,” Mason stated. “His ex remarried and lives in New Zealand now.”

  “Any kids?”

  Mason shook his head, “No. He never seemed too bothered a
bout relationships either.”

  “How so?”

  “He spent a lot of time on his own. His parents are both dead and he was only an only child. All adds up to being a bit of a loner.”

  “What about his cases?” Caslin asked.

  “We don’t share caseloads,” Mason explained. “We operate under the same umbrella but not in tandem, if you know what I mean?”

  Caslin nodded, “How long have you known each other?”

  “All his life,” Mason explained. “I worked with his father in the job. We were good friends. When I was approaching my thirty, Jody suggested I join him in setting up this business. He was working as an investigator for an insurance company and there was plenty of work to go around. We set up on our own. Our combined experience gave us a decent amount of credibility in the industry, so it was a no-brainer.”

  “And how is business?” Hunter asked, involuntarily casting an eye around the bare office, devoid of character. Mason noticed.

  “Don’t let the décor fool you, Miss,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “We just don’t waste money on stylish furnishings. There’s no point. We hardly get clients come through the door as most of our business is corporate related. Much of our time is spent out in the field. Business is punchy right now. We have three teams of investigators plus ourselves and cover a radius of one hundred miles from this very chair. You’ll see from my Jag parked outside that business has never been better.”

  “No offence intended,” Hunter said.

  “None taken,” Mason countered. Caslin rolled his tongue along the inside of his lower lip. Hunter was irritated by Mason’s belittling reference to her but only he could see it.

  “What of Jody’s cases?” Caslin asked. “Which was his most pressing?”

  “He had a pretty big divorce case that was coming before a court in a couple of weeks,” Donna offered, regaining some measure of composure. “And he took on an embezzlement case last month. Other than that, he was working two suspected insurance scams involving personal injury claims. They were both involved in the same accident but Jody figured they were set ups.”

  “Can you elaborate?” Caslin asked. Donna looked to Mason who nodded.

  “The divorce case is a straightforward investigation to assist a spouse improve the marital settlement from her estranged husband. He was quite abusive and played away so she is highly motivated.”

  “The abuse. Was it violent?” Hunter asked, making notes.

  Donna nodded furiously. “Yes, absolutely. Systematic over the course of a decade. We collected medical records as well as proof of infidelity.”

  “Proof? In the form of what?”

  “Video surveillance in the main,” Donna stated.

  “Was the husband aware of Mr Wyer’s interest?” Donna shook her head. “And the others?”

  “A firm in Leeds asked us to look into some accounting discrepancies within one of their client’s accounts. They think one of their staff has been syphoning off funds.”

  “How much?” Caslin asked.

  “We had only just begun but already we’ve noted twenty thousand is missing and it looks like it will rise far higher the further we go back.”

  “And the insurance scam?” Hunter asked, looking up from her pocket book.

  “Two high value cars colliding with each other,” Donna explained. Caslin figured he knew where this one was heading. It was a popular scam. “One was a Mercedes, the other a BMW and both were written off. The total value of the car owner’s claims, including personal injury, were well over a hundred thousand pounds. Plus, there are subsidiary claims from passengers totalling over five figures per claimant.”

  “I’ll bet the accident happened on an empty street in the middle of the night?” Caslin suggested.

  Donna nodded. “Don’t they always?”

  “And where were you with those cases?”

  “Jody figured both sets of people knew each other, so he was building a case trying to link them.”

  “In what form?” Hunter asked. Both Donna and Beth looked towards Mason once more. He remained stoic, unflinching. “Donna?” Hunter pressed.

  “He didn’t say,” she replied, looking to the floor.

  “We’ll need names, contacts… regarding everything Jody was working on,” Caslin said to Mason, figuring nothing would come out of the office without his say-so. “I can obtain a warrant if you prefer?”

  “That won’t be necessary, Inspector,” Mason said. “You’ll have our full cooperation in this matter.”

  “Thank you,” Caslin said.

  “When was the last time you saw Jody?” Caslin asked Mason.

  “Two nights ago. We had a bit of a knees-up in the pub under the guise of a team meeting,” Mason explained. “It was a cracking night.”

  “And how was he? Did he seem out of sorts, distracted perhaps?”

  Mason thought about it, glancing at his colleagues and frowned, “Come to think of it, he wasn’t his usual self. Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t put my finger on why but he wasn’t really up for a night out.”

  “True. He left early before it all got going,” Beth confirmed.

  “Did he say anything that might indicate why he wasn’t participating?” Hunter asked.

  “He was driving and so only had a couple of drinks,” Donna said. “But no, other than that, he was quite normal as far as I could tell. A bit quiet maybe but no one likes being the sober one at the party, do they?”

  “I guess not. Did Jody leave his computer here by any chance?” Caslin asked.

  “No. He uses a laptop and always takes it home with him,” Donna confirmed.

  “We’ll take a look at his home address then,” Caslin said, taking out two of his contact cards and giving one to both Donna and Beth. “Well, if you think of anything I might like to know, I’d appreciate it if you would give me a call.”

  “Be assured we will,” Mason said, sitting forward. “Tell me, which CID do you operate out of?”

  “We’re based at Fulford Road,” Caslin replied, meeting Mason’s eye and ignoring Hunter’s glance.

  “Nice station,” Mason stated.

  “Yes, it is,” Caslin said, stepping forward. Mason rose as Caslin offered his hand. “If we need a positive identification to take place, would you be willing?”

  “Of course, yes,” Mason confirmed.

  “Right you are. We’ll be in touch.”

  ***

  Descending the stairs to the outside, Caslin felt eyes on their back as they reached the street. Glancing over his shoulder, he caught a glimpse of Donna and the larger-than-life figure of Tony Mason watching them from above. Looking back, he met Hunter’s eye as they crossed the road in between oncoming traffic to where the car was parked.

  “A penny for them?” she said.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “I know that face,” Hunter explained. “What is it about them that has got you thinking?”

  Caslin shook his head, smiling, “You started out over at Acomb Road. What do you know about Tony Mason?”

  “He left before I went into CID,” Hunter stated. “But I remember him as a well-liked DI. A little too old-school perhaps for the modern era.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Well, he’d bend the rules if he thought it would get a result. That sort of thing.”

  “I see,” Caslin said, reaching the car and heading around to the passenger side. Hunter unlocked it and they both got in.

  “Not unlike someone sitting not too far away from me now,” Hunter said with a wry smile. Caslin laughed. “Tell me, why didn’t you say where we worked?”

  Caslin looked at her with a questioning glance. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Hunter turned the key and started the engine. “Yes, you do. You told him we were based at Fulford Road.”

  Caslin stared ahead, assessing the traffic despite the fact he wasn’t driving. “That’s my problem, Sarah. You see, we are based at Fulford.”

>   Hunter smiled, “You implied we were Fulford Road CID and didn’t mention we were Major Crimes…”

  “Who work out of Fulford Road,” Caslin countered, grinning. “He didn’t ask. I just didn’t correct his assumption.”

  “You don’t trust him.”

  Caslin inclined his head, “Did you notice how they both looked to him for their lead.”

  “Beth and Donna?”

  “Yeah. Every time they were asked a question, they ran it past him first.”

  “He is their boss,” Hunter stated in mitigation.

  “Yes, he is,” Caslin said, returning his focus to the traffic levels before adding, almost as an afterthought, “and no… as things go, the people I have a hard time trusting, apart from ex-cons… are ex-coppers. I don’t trust him. Not one little bit.”

  Chapter Six

  The sound of trains clattering through the nearby station in central York carried to them, metal upon metal shrieking as the carriages came to a halt. A muffled public address system announced forthcoming arrivals and platform updates.

  “Looks like nobody’s home,” Hunter said, peering at the darkened interior through the shuttered blinds of the bay window. They were standing outside an unassuming brick terrace. Part of a row of twenty houses separated from the road by a knee-high dwarf wall. The street was narrow and lined on the opposing side by similar properties. Parked cars were interspersed with large gaps that would be filled once residents returned from work later in the evening. The buildings traditionally housed railway workers well before the advent of the motoring age. Even with minimal outside space, on street parking and the accompanying noise of the city, they were still in a desirable location being so close to the city centre and its transport links.

  “He lived alone,” Caslin stated, stepping back from the front door and glancing towards the upper windows, his continued knocking remained unanswered. Two properties along, he noted a passageway to the rear of the terrace. Such was the nature of the construction rights of way were granted to the rear of neighbouring houses, allowing access to your own gardens via their boundaries. “Let’s take a look around the back.”