Trentbridge Tales Box Set

by Lee Wood

  On each double page spread the right-hand page had a receipt signed and dated by the seller of items purchased. Stapled to the top right corner of each receipt was a small five by three-inch white record card with handwritten notes. These listed the amount paid for the items and the amount they had been sold for.

  On the corresponding left-hand page was the name of town or city and below an A5-size full-colour leaflet, with the headline reading:

  'Renowned Top London Dealer will be in your area this week only – and wishes to purchase original paintings and antiques. Free valuation and best prices paid.'

  It also had photos of two paintings and the wording 'recent prices paid and the amount of £12,000 under the left painting and £27,500 underneath the other.

  There was also a photo of a set of crockery and the amount of £8,200 under it. And then under them the words ‘What are your items worth?’

  Contact: Peter Winston-Moore on 07219 274 590

  Some of the pages had handwritten letters people had posted to Peter after seeing his leaflet and enclosing photographs of the items they were offering to sell to him.

  As the two detectives went through the items and catalogued them, they realised this was the method Peter had used to find so many unique items of stock. This was his secret way of buying items his competitors had been so keen to discover. Simple and it appeared, extremely effective.

  Many elderly people, especially those in their seventies and eighties tend to read and believe everything posted through their letterboxes. And many of them live in their own and are lonely, so the thought of someone coming to visit and spending time talking to them was enough for them to pick up the phone and call to make an appointment. A reputable London dealer calling at your convenience and according to what the leaflet stated, giving you the best price for your valuable items.

  The notebooks showed a different story. In reality Peter was a dishonest con-man who preyed on these old people. Once he was in their house, he used his charm and persuasion and they were hooked. So if he told them a painting or antique was worth £4,000 when he knew its true value was £40,000 they would believe his every word. This was why his method had been so successful.

  It was all there in black and white. The reference numbers on the white cards next to each leaflet referred to receipts he had got the sellers to sign saying they had been paid and acknowledging the item now belonged to Peter Winston-Moore. Buried in the small print was a warning that he gave no assurance the valuation he had given was true or accurate and he could not be held liable for any variations. In other words, he could pay them a fraction of the true value and legally they couldn't do a thing about it.

  As they went through each piece of the paperwork, it emerged exactly what Peter had done.

  “Look at this Carla.”

  Carla walked over and looked at the notebook.

  “According to his records he struck it lucky from the start. From what I can make out the fourth item he ever purchased with the leaflets turned out to be an original Picasso with a handwritten note attached to the back of the painting written by Pablo Picasso. According to his notes he paid the lady £4,000 and then sold it in New York for $5.3 million.”

  “This guy really is a piece of work. A real shit,” said Eden Gold.

  And it shows some of the other items he has purchased. Several of the paintings that he paid between £500 and £3,500 he sold them for between £28,000 and £65,000.”

  Eden noted it was a similar story for the notebooks marked 2017 and the one for 2018 with items listed as purchased up until a few days before his murder.

  Eden didn't think all antique dealers were like this but the way his associates had been trying to find out how Winston-Moore had been able to buy such items he thought they only wanted to discover the secret so they could do the same.

  They also found receipts for a large number of paintings that had been purchased from an artist studio based in Hong Kong.

  Everything needed to be photographed, catalogued and bagged. A long process but as detectives Eden and Carla knew exactly what was required to ensure anything that might be used as evidence in a court must follow the strict procedures laid down. Otherwise Norman’s defence lawyers would have a field day.

  The satnav in the second vehicle was telling DS Tracy Archer and fellow officer Will Redgrave they were close to their London destination. Norman had given details of the code to open the entrance to the secure underground parking spaces where Peter always parked the Bentley. Even in a nice area like Pimlico you couldn’t park a car like that on the street overnight and expect to come back and find the wheels, or even find the car still there.

  The apartment they had come to search was situated on the second floor of a five-storey stucco-fronted building. In the days of its construction and early life, it would have been the home of an extremely wealthy family.

  The entrance jutted out to the pavement with four magnificent columns and three stone steps to the front door. The first floor windows had moon shape arches above them and a veranda in front stretching out over the entrance. The next two floors were less ornate with straight coverings over each window. The fourth floor had a simple window surround and the top floor had yet smaller and much plainer windows. Probably as these would have been the servants’ quarters.

  The inside of the house had been given a makeover but most of the original features had been left untouched, including the impressive staircase.

  Before making their way up to the apartment, Tracy walked over to the mailboxes and used the key from Peter’s key ring to open it. She reached inside and found two letters. Both were utility bills.

  Once inside the apartment, Tracy followed the instructions on her envelope and keyed 24691 into the alarm pad and the humming ceased.

  The two detectives started in the main bedroom searching the bedside cabinets before stripping off all the covers and checking under the bed and mattress.

  Next they went through the contents of the walk-in wardrobes. Every item of clothing had to be checked. Not only the pockets but each sleeve and then turned inside out, just in case.

  The rooms did not have any chests of drawers. All the items of underwear were in compartments within the wardrobes, even the shoes were neatly lined up on custom made shelves. Even these needed to be checked to see if anything had been concealed.

  There were so many clothes that it took nearly three hours to methodically search everything. They found nothing of interest.

  Next the bathroom with its ‘wet area’ shower.

  Then they went through to the kitchen. It seemed the occupants ate out a lot as there was very little food in the fridge and freezer or the cupboards.

  The milk in the fridge was emptied carefully through a sieve down the sink to check there was nothing concealed and also to stop it going off.

  One of the main aims had been to check for kitchen knives and see if any were missing, in case Norman had taken one with him to the hotel. Tracy found a set of six knives. None were missing.

  Finally they moved into the front room. This was the main room of the house. It contained a rustic style table with four chairs, a large sofa situated in front of the radiator and facing a large and open fireplace complete with its original mantelpiece, although at some point recently it had all been painted over in a plum colour. Above the mantelpiece was a large mirror with its surround painted in the same shade.

  There was a large TV attached to the wall next to the fireplace and a small bookshelf in the corner, half empty. Above the TV there was a shelf high up the wall containing a few ornaments. Each one was carefully taken down and checked. In the opposite corner of the room was a small desk and chair. The top drawer had recent household bills and receipts all neatly filed in order. The second drawer contained items of stationery such as a stapler and ruler. The bottom drawer contained a long legal size envelope. Tracy opened it and as she read the contents, a smile spread across her face. “Got yer,” she muttered to herself.


  Once they were satisfied there was nothing else of interest in the apartment, Tracy phoned DCI Andy Stone.

  “Hello, sir, it’s Tracy. Will and I have just this minute finished checking the apartment from top to bottom. You’ll never guess what we’ve found… a will leaving everything to Norman and it’s dated just three weeks ago.”

  “That’s brilliant work, Tracy. Well done.”

  After telling him they hadn’t found anything else of significance, she phoned DI Gold. “Hi, Eden. Just to let you know we’ve found a will from Peter dated from three weeks ago and it leaves everything to Norman. How are you getting on?”

  “Hi, Tracy. Yes. We've found a lot of stuff. We should be finished cataloguing it all in about an hour.”

  “If it's okay with you, we'll make everything here secure and head back to base and see what we can do there.”

  “Sorry Tracy. I need you to come over to meet us and transfer what we’ve found into your vehicle.” There’s some important evidence here and after we finish we’ve got to go and interview Oliver Varney. I don’t want to leave this stuff unattended in the car.”

  “Sure. We’ll head over to you and pick it up.”

  An hour and ten minutes later, Eden and Carla finished documenting all the items and bagged them up ready to put into Tracy’s vehicle when she and Will arrived.

  Eden and Carla had one last look around, even checking the toilets and moving items including the filing cabinet to make sure nothing had been hidden underneath or that it was covering a secret compartment. Once they were satisfied, they unlocked the front door and carried the evidence bags to the boot. Carla sat in the car while Eden went back and turned the alarm on and secured the two door locks just as they had found them.

  Five minutes later, Tracy and DS Will Redgrave turned up and all the evidence bags from the art gallery were transferred to their car.

  “This stuff can’t be left unattended. You can’t stop anywhere in London with all that evidence in the boot of the car. It wouldn't be safe. You’ll need to ensure your vehicle doors and the boot are locked at all times and don’t stop anywhere until you’re outside London and then one of you must stay with the vehicle while the other goes for food or fuel. We can’t afford for any of this to go missing.”

  Eden was aware two years previously a London detective had lost vital evidence when a sneak thief had opened the back seat door when the vehicle stopped at traffic lights and they had taken the evidence bags sitting there. He didn't want the same mistake to happen.

  He and Carla went off to interview Oliver Varney. Eden didn’t expect they would get back to Trentbridge until about 7 pm. It had been a long day and the DCI would make it even longer by waiting until he returned before holding the daily update meeting.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Eden and Carla made their way up the second set of stairs that were even narrower than the ones to the first floor. Oliver was waiting at the door to his room and beckoned them in.

  “Hello, Mr Varney. I'm Detective Inspector Eden Gold and this is my colleague DS Carla Parsons.” Oliver looked at them closely as they both held up their warrant cards and then he nodded as if to say 'okay'.

  “I’m sorry there isn’t a lot of room but it’s all I can afford.”

  Eden looked round. He didn’t have to look far. The room was tiny. A small single bed, what appeared to be a canvas-sided wardrobe, a small desk with a laptop and two fold-up chairs. It all looked tidy and clean.

  Oliver beckoned them towards the chairs and sat on the edge of the bed.

  “Thank you for taking the time to see us. Before we start, I’ll need to caution you. It is purely routine in a case like this. Let me just assure you that you are not a suspect.”

  After reading the caution, Eden continued. “I have to inform you that Peter Winston-Moore was found dead in his hotel room in Trentbridge yesterday morning.”

  Oliver brought his hands up to cover his mouth and for a second it looked like he was going to fall backwards. “No! That’s terrible. I wish I’d never got involved with him now.”

  “We hope you can tell us what happened so we can discover who is responsible for his death. If you could start from the beginning and include as much detail as you can. Even things you may consider as trivial. Can you start by telling us how you met Mr Winston-Moore and what happened up until the time you left the Albion Hotel?”

  “I work in a restaurant in south London as a waiter and Peter came in a couple of times and we got chatting. He was a lot older than me but there was just something about him and he was really friendly and we got talking. I liked him from the start, before I knew he was rich.

  “I agreed to meet him one day after work and he picked me up in his lovely car. Anyway, we went off and he took me to see a movie. We got close, if you know what I mean, and ended up at a hotel near Victoria Station. He told me he was an antiques dealer and was going to an antiques fair and would be staying at a hotel for a few days and it would be an ideal way to get to know each other a bit better. I had a few days’ holiday due from work so I agreed.

  “He came and collected me on Tuesday morning and we drove to Trentbridge, we stopped on the way at a motorway service station and had a cup of coffee and a sandwich. Then we drove to the hotel and he booked us in. We went upstairs with our cases and it was a really nice room. He told me he had stayed at the hotel before, then he laughed and said last time he couldn’t have afforded this room. The view was stunning. It had windows at the front and side so we could see some of the buildings in the historic town centre.”

  “Yes. That's good. Please go on and tell us in as much detail as you can all the events until you left. Just to assure you, we’re not easily shocked.”

  “We got to the hotel just after 1.30 pm. and he asked if we could book into the room. The lady on reception checked and said our suite had already been cleaned and prepared so it was not a problem. After we had unpacked we spent an hour or so in bed.

  “We went down to the bar and had a couple of drinks. Then we went for a walk around the town. We wandered the streets for some time until it grew a little cooler so then we headed back to the hotel. Peter made a few private phone calls. He walked off as he made them so I wasn't able to hear what he said or who he spoke to. We looked at the hotel restaurant menu and Peter said he didn't feel like driving anywhere and wanted a few drinks so we booked a table and had a pleasant meal with lots of wine and desserts and coffees. Then we went up to our room and had an early night and watched some TV.

  “The next morning, that must have been Wednesday, I got up as usual at eight. I did some yoga and then took a shower while Peter stayed in bed until just after nine and then he got up and we went down for breakfast. Then we went back up to the room at around ten. Peter went into the bathroom to get ready. He told me he had some appointments from twelve until about four. He mentioned someone had sent him a letter and photograph of a painting and he hoped to buy it. He seemed very excited but didn't really say anything more at the time.

  “I told him I'd go to the museum and then go shopping. I didn't see him again until late afternoon.”

  I got back to the hotel at around 5 o’clock and he was already there. He had an easel set up in the corner of the room with a painting in a gold frame. He seemed very excited about it and when I asked he said he would tell me all about it later over a meal.

  He couldn't stop smiling, even more than before and laughing to himself. He joked and said he was feeling randy so we went to bed until just after six. We looked at the hotel restaurant menu but Peter said he fancied some Greek food and knew a nice little place not far away where he had been before. He phoned and made a reservation.

  “At around seven, we got ready and headed across town to the restaurant. We parked at the end of the road in a car park and walked a short distance. The place was quite small. It was called the Greek Tavern or something like that.”

  “Yes, I know the place. The Greek Taverna. Please go on
.”

  “Anyway, Peter had booked us a table. I've worked in a few restaurants and this was a nice place, very friendly with a family atmosphere. I remember thinking the food should be good. When you’re a waiter you can just tell. Peter ordered us both the six-course meal and some wine. I left it all to him. He seemed so sophisticated and liked to be in control. I just went along. As I thought, the food turned out to be really good.

  “Anyway, as he had promised, when we were about half way through the meal he started telling me about the three paintings he had bought from his various appointments. He said one of them was extremely valuable but the owner didn't know what it was worth so he had got it for a really low price. I was a bit taken back. He had seemed so straightforward and honest before but he said if someone didn't know its true value that wasn't his fault. And if he hadn't bought it they might have sold it to a local dealer and it could have ended up on someone's wall without them knowing how valuable it was.

  “He told me there are thousands of works of art just sitting on walls or tucked away where the painting is probably worth more than the house. He started to boast and tell me about all the items he had purchased where the owners didn't realise the true value and how he paid them a pittance of what they were worth. He had had a few drinks by then so I'm not sure if all of what he was telling me was true or just the drink talking. To be honest I was a bit worried about him driving us back to the hotel.

  “Anyway, we had the meal and then a dessert and coffee, by which time he seemed to have sobered up a bit. We went back to the hotel. Luckily he drove slowly and we got back okay. But he was too far gone to do anything and we both just went to sleep.

  “The next morning, I got up at eight as usual but Peter stayed in bed until around nine and then he got up and we went down for breakfast. It must have been close to ten when we finished. I know we were the last ones in the dining room. I could see the waitress hovering round but Peter didn't hurry.