by Tony Bassett
‘They all want to know about Lucas Sharp and Joseph somebody,’ said Couchman, who was shabbily dressed in a crumpled white shirt and dark trousers. ‘As if I haven’t got enough to do.’
‘I just wondered if you knew the Bennett family?’
‘For what reason?’
Anne quickly needed to conjure up a convincing excuse as to why she was asking questions about his customers.
‘I’m making some discreet inquiries on behalf of a local solicitor,’ she said - aware this was only partly true. She was about to suggest it involved a criminal case, but Couchman for some reason jumped to the conclusion her inquiries concerned a matrimonial matter.
‘Oh, say no more. I’ve been divorced myself,’ he said. Anne was relieved he had made a wrong assumption and she did not rush to correct him.
‘Is this strictly between you and me?’ he asked.
‘Yes, of course.’
‘All right. What d’you want to know?’
‘I’ve heard Neil Bennett and his family are regular customers and just wanted to confirm that,’ she said.
‘Yes, I’ve known them all the time I’ve been landlord here, which is seven years.’
‘Do they come in on a Thursday night? I was wondering about Thursday of last week, November the fifth.’
‘Yes, they’re here every Thursday for quiz night.’
‘So they were here on Bonfire Night?’
‘That’s right. They never miss a quiz. They were here last night as well. They’re as regular as clockwork. You know all these teams have quirky names, don’t you? The Gordon Bennetts -- that’s what they call themselves. If you saw how fast the gin goes down when they’re around, you’d know why.’
Anne smiled. ‘Who were in the team here on November the fifth?’
‘Well, there was Ryan and Judith Bennett - that’s the father and mother. Then there was Neil. Let me think. Ian MacDonald, Shauna McCarthy and Ted Moreton, I think.’
‘Has Rosie Bennett ever been part of the team?’
‘Once or twice, but she’s not really a drinker and doesn’t like going in pubs. That’s fair enough. Some of you girls are like that. But her friend Shauna’s a keen quizzer. Ian’s Rosie’s ex-boyfriend. He’s regarded as a friend of the family - there are no hard feelings.’
‘Ted Moreton works at Finch & Davies, doesn’t he?’
‘You’re very well informed, young lady. Yes. He’s a pub regular who fills in when the Bennett team are short of quizzers.’
‘Who’s the quizmaster?’
‘The role of master of ceremonies and quizmaster’s one that falls to me.’
‘You arrange the whole thing - you set the questions, who hand out the quiz papers?’
‘Yes, with a little help from bar staff. It’s good fun. You should come along. You’d enjoy yourself. You could sit up the front, next to me.’
‘Thank you. I- I might come along some time. What time does the quiz begin?’
‘We kick off at about half-past seven, but you’ve got to be here by about seven to make sure you get a table.’
‘So the Bennetts were here that night at seven o’clock. What time did they leave?’
‘They were here till about eleven o’clock, closing time.’
‘Neil was definitely here with his family and friends?’
‘Definitely. He had about six pints of lager, like he usually does. If you’re interested, I might even have the quiz papers. It was only a week ago so I don’t think I’ve thrown them out.’
He rummaged around behind the bar. Within a few minutes, he had found a stack of quiz sheets, which he placed on the bar counter.
‘I’ve got the list of questions typed out as well. Here we are - the Gordon Bennetts. Ooh, they didn’t do as well as they normally do. I don’t know why, but Neil wasn’t really on form that night. Perhaps he overdid the drinking. They only got eleven out of twenty. They’re usually among the high scorers.
‘Last night, Ian MacDonald couldn’t make it, so another friend of the family joined them, a man called Chad who’s staying with the Bennetts at the moment. They did much better, scoring eighteen. They just got pipped by the team known as Don’t Upset The Apple Cart, who scored nineteen points.’
Anne asked: ‘D’you mind if I take their sheet from Bonfire Night? I’d like to show my husband the kind of questions and answers that come up.’
‘Here you are, young lady. Take their quiz sheet and here are the questions and all the correct answers. And when you come along to take part, don’t worry about your husband. You can leave him at home! He wouldn’t enjoy it.’
‘Thank you very much,’ said Anne. ‘You’ve been very helpful.’
‘Couchman’s the name - Bernard Couchman. And you are?’
‘I’m Anne,’ she said. ‘It’s been nice to meet you.’
‘It’s been very nice meeting you, young lady,’ he said. ‘I thought you wanted to talk about the fight between Lucas Sharp and the migrant when you first came in.’
‘You witnessed the fight?’
‘I came in at the tail end of it,’ he recalled. ‘I heard the Eritrean man - I think his name’s Joseph or something -- shouting in poor English: “You’re a complete bastard.” Excuse my French. Then Lucas, whom I knew quite well, said something like: “You should be at home, peasant boy, caring for your camels!” They traded blows and it was all over in seconds. Ted and one of the regulars pulled them apart. The Eritrean went off shouting: “Tell more lies and I kill you.”’
‘Sounds frightening.’
‘Oh, it’s the kind of thing you get used to in the pub game, young lady. Bye then. Nice to see you!’
23
As I drove Anne away from the pub, I couldn’t resist teasing her a little.
‘Why don’t you come to my pub quiz, young lady! Come and sit on my knee, young lady!’ I said, mocking Couchman’s rich country accent.
‘Stop it, Bob. We’ve work to do,’ she snapped.
After leaving the Pilgrim’s Rest, Anne wanted to call in at the farm. Her main intention was to speak to Kristina, but when we entered the pack-house we chanced upon Ted Moreton as he hurried towards the exit door with a clipboard.
‘Hi, Mr Moreton,’ she called out as he went to rush past her.
‘Oh, hello. Sorry, I’m in a bit of a rush. We’re all very sorry to hear about Yusuf. We’d never have expected it of him, but I suppose you never know.’
‘I’ve promised to try to help Yusuf,’ she said. ‘Could I quickly ask you about the night Yusuf and Lucas were fighting. You were there, weren’t you?’
‘Yes, I had to break up the fight.’
‘You go to the Pilgrim’s a lot and I gather you were at the quiz on Bonfire Night?’
‘Yes, that’s right. ‘
‘So you were with Neil Bennett?’
‘I was on the other side of the table and didn’t say much to him. I was talking to a guy called Ian all evening. But he was there all right. Why’s that?’
Anne began floundering for an explanation.
‘Oh, I just wanted to clear up a possible misunderstanding. That’s all,’ she said. Her claim appeared to lack logic. He looked at her in a way that told her he did not believe her.
‘Anyway, nice to see you both again, but I’ve got to go,’ he said, disappearing through the door into the yard.
As Anne looked round for Kristina, she received an urgent text message on her mobile phone from Janice Carslake, asking Anne to call her. Since she was preoccupied at the farm, she decided she would phone the solicitor later and she continued trying to find Kristina.
Eventually we spotted the Romanian’s long black hair bobbing up and down behind some machinery.
‘Kristina!’ she called. The hard-working girl looked up, put
down a container of apples and walked towards Anne.
‘Hi Anne!’ she said. ‘Any news about Yusuf?’
‘He’s bearing up. Bob and I went to see him yesterday. He’s fine. Look, I wanted to have a word with you.’
Kristina said: ‘I’ll just see if my supervisor can let me have a short break.’
Moments later she returned. ‘Yes, I can have ten minutes. Shall we go to the caravan?’
The three of us left the pack-house and entered the caravan park.
‘I just wondered if you caught that rat?’ Anne asked.
‘Yes,’ said Kristina. ‘But I threw it in the bin.’
‘Is it possible to retrieve it? I’d like to take a photograph of it.’
‘You want to take a photograph of a dead rat?’
‘Yes, it’s important. Also d’you still have the bottle of chloroform Yusuf obtained?’
‘’No, the police took it, but I’ve got the cardboard box it’s coming in.’
‘Could you bring that as well? I’d like to have the box and the rat in the same photograph.’
Kristina continued to look puzzled.
‘The police say Yusuf used chloroform to knock Lucas out,’ Anne explained. ‘Yusuf says it was to kill the rat. If we have proof...’
‘Oh I understand now,’ said the girl, picking the rat out of the bin by its tail and collecting the box from the caravan.
Anne took out her camera. Then, as the rat swayed from side to side in the gentle breeze, she took a timed and dated photograph of the dead creature alongside the box that the chemical had been stored in. She made sure the easily-recognisable Finch & Davies building, a red-brick former farmhouse with three prominent chimneys stretching into the sky, appeared in the background.
When Anne returned from her visit to Sissenden, she received a second text message from Mrs Carslake, repeating the request for Anne to contact her.
Anne quickly called the practice, apologising profusely for the delay in responding. But she found the solicitor was furious with her. I listened in after switching on the phone’s loud speaker.
‘Didn’t you realise Yusuf should have made an asylum claim?’ Mrs Carslake demanded. ‘Didn’t you realise there’s a question over his right to remain here?’
Anne had been totally unprepared for the lawyer’s diatribe. She tried for a minute or two to keep her temper. But eventually she had to react.
‘We’d no idea he had no right to stay,’ said Anne. ‘We’re not bloody immigration experts. He came to us as a lodger. As we got to know him, we realised we ought to contact the asylum screening unit in Croydon for him and sought out his status. We were going to call them at the beginning of October, but this was then overtaken by events.’
Gradually, the temperature of their heated exchange began to cool. Mrs Carslake was at least not threatening to withdraw her services. In fact, she made it clear she was still keen to proceed in defending our friend.
But she warned, whether he was prosecuted or not for the murder, it was important she made an asylum claim on his behalf. We were still rather surprised he had not done this already of his own volition. Perhaps it was Yusuf’s ignorance of how the system works or perhaps he had applied some time before and been turned down. We simply did not know.
The solicitor told Anne: ‘Eritrean nationals are usually fortunate in being able to gain refugee status because their country’s been called the “North Korea of Africa.” Conditions there can be harsh with arbitrary detention and torture. Human rights don’t exist there.’
She added: ‘Anyway, I’m sorry if I lost my temper earlier in the conversation, Mrs Shaw. I suppose part of the problem was I was annoyed after twice failing to reach you by phone.’
‘I’m sorry as well,’ said Anne. ‘I should’ve called you back when I received the first message, but we were at the Finch & Davies farm. I’ve been working hard, Mrs Carslake. I’ve been collecting information about the case which I eventually aim to share with you.’
‘That’s good, so long as you don’t cause any problems for the private detective I’ve hired myself to make inquiries. By the way, I think it’s a little encouraging so many days have now passed and Mr Osman’s not been charged. I think there’s a good chance now they might let him go. Anyway, as I’ve just mentioned my private detective, I suppose there are a few other things I should tell you. We’ve traced Mrs Taylor’s solicitors. In the event of Mrs Taylor’s death, Lilac Cottage was to have been left to Lucas Sharp. He was her only nephew and she’d no nieces. Her sister Martina had a son years ago, but he was killed in a road crash.’
‘So who inherits the cottage in the light of Sharp’s death?’
‘The will says, in the event of Lucas predeceasing her, the cottage will go to Lucas’s wife, Gemma. In the event of Gemma’s death, the cottage passes to the three remaining sisters equally - Andrea Sharp, who’s Lucas’s mother; Martina Moreton; and Sue Wickens.’ There was a pause in the conversation.
Anne asked: ‘Are you still there, Mrs Carslake?’
‘Yes, dear. I was just looking for... ah, here we are. I’d a call earlier from Detective Sergeant Kirwan and I’ve found the note of the conversation. We’ve had an apology from the police. You know they suggested Osman killed another man with a bomb a few years ago? They admit making a mistake about that. It was another man with a similar name.’
‘Oh, God!’ said Anne. ‘What blundering idiots!’
‘He’d been asked to call me and explain how the murder investigation team made a dog’s breakfast of it.’
‘It doesn’t give you much confidence in them, does it?’ Anne concluded.
24
My wife could be very artful. I have learnt this to my cost on a few occasions. This skill of hers came to the fore in the next stage of her quest to prove Yusuf’s innocence - finding out who had ordered and paid for the GPS tracking device sent to Finch & Davies.
We had learnt the model found attached to Lucas Sharp’s car was a ‘Little Snooper’ device, which is sold by a company in Yorkshire.
Anne decided to use our home phone and speak to the firm’s customer service department. During the conversation, she would claim the device had still not been delivered. Could they double-check to whom the item had been addressed? In that way, she hoped to bluff out of the firm the name of the person who had ordered it. She decided to put the landline call on speaker-phone. She then pressed the record button on her mobile phone’s voice recorder, so she would have a full recording of the conversation.
With some trepidation, she dialled the number. Eventually, one of the staff answered, saying he would be only too happy to help. He apologised for the delivery problem.
‘What’s your name, love?’ he asked with a strong Yorkshire accent.
‘Sue Wickens. I’m from Finch & Davies in Sissenden, Kent,’ said Anne without hesitating. ‘We ordered a tracking device about two weeks ago for our farm’s technical department. Despite lengthy inquiries, we can’t trace it.’
‘Can you hold on? I’ll check the computer,’ the man said. After two minutes, he returned to the phone.
‘Well, I can see the record of the order for Finch & Davies. It was ordered on October the second. Is that right?’ he said.
‘That’s it!’ exclaimed Anne with mounting excitement. ‘It was ordered so we could monitor one of our lorries.’
‘But we don’t have the name Wickens here. Have you got the order number?’
‘No, I’m afraid I haven’t,’ said Anne. There was a pause. ‘It’s on a file document I can’t access at the moment,’ she hastily added.
‘Well, I’m not sure I’m allowed to give you any details. You could be anyone phoning, couldn’t you?’
Anne mounted one last desperate attempt to trick the information out of him.
‘
Look, this is ridiculous!’ she said, raising her voice. ‘We have given your firm a lot of business over the years. We are very annoyed about this missing item. If you don’t give me the delivery date right now and details of the order, I will recommend to the managing director that we take future business elsewhere.’
‘Sorry, love,’ the customer service assistant replied. ‘Don’t be hasty. There’s no need to fly off the handle. I’ve got the details in front of me. Can I just ask how you believe the tracker was paid for?’
‘Company credit card,’ she said without stopping for breath.
‘All right. I can tell you we sent an email giving a delivery date of October the thirteenth and someone signed for it with a squiggly signature on that date. On the address line it said: “For attention of Tech.” That fits in with what you said, doesn’t it? Tech Department. Oh, hang on. No, I’m misreading my colleague’s writing. It’s not Tech - it’s Ted. Do you have someone on your staff called Ted?’
Anne retained her grip on the phone with her left hand, she told me later, but she waved her right fist in the air in triumph. She had made a giant leap forward in her hunt for the truth. So the device had been ordered by Ted Moreton!
‘Are you still there?’ said the man.
‘Yes, that’s right. It’s my colleague Ted. I’ll make further inquiries this end,’ Anne declared. The Yorkshireman was still chatting away on the line.
‘Sorry to have taken up your time,’ Anne added. ‘If there’s still a problem, we’ll call back. Thank you!’
Excited by this new discovery, she urged me to get the car started and we set off back to the farm. Ted Moreton sometimes went home early on a Friday. She hoped she would be in time to confront him before he left for the weekend.
As we travelled, she recognised our mission might be putting us at risk. Here we were, about to confront a man who was thought to have surreptitiously ordered the tracking device used to follow Lucas’s car - probably used on the very night he was murdered. She was glad I was accompanying her. I suppose my presence gave her more confidence and made her feel safe.
Was Ted Moreton - who was one of Lucas Sharp’s uncles through marriage -- involved in the murder in some way, we wondered? Although she had some personal fears, she knew she had to go on. She had to find out.
