The Concrete Ceiling

by Peter Rowlands

  “OK. Well I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but after we last spoke, all my company’s work for Hathaway & Simms was cancelled. Oh, and also our work for Cavenham Risby. That was my punishment.”

  “I did hear about that, and I think it’s appalling.”

  “You and me both.”

  “But you weren’t fired?”

  “Oddly enough, no. Hathaways tried that on, but my boss stood by me. I was able to point out to him that I hadn’t given away any secrets – just told you stuff you could have found out anywhere.”

  “I’m very glad to hear it.”

  “But the whole episode has shown us up in a bad light. We’ve lost work from other customers who are wondering what we might have done wrong. Our business could go under. It’s been a nightmare.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s reached the stage where I think we need to do something drastic. The trouble is, my directors are too cautious. They won’t speak out, so it seems to be down to me to do something.”

  “Speak out about what?”

  “It’s about that retail development in Rugby – the one we talked about. A few months ago a colleague of mine was asked by Dan Risby of Cavenhams to do an environmental survey on the new site.”

  “Are we talking about the vacant lot – the one that had brick buildings on it in the past?”

  “That’s the one, yes. The developers had already commissioned their own official survey, and that survey gave the site a green light. But Dan Risby wanted an in-depth localised study – more intensive soil sampling, radiometric dating, that kind of thing.”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t answer that. It was one of my colleagues who dealt with this, not me. I only found out about it the other day.”

  “But what made Dan think there would be anything to find?”

  “Oh, that’s easy enough. The site was once occupied by a cement manufacturer. You must know that Rugby is famous for its cement. There are still several producers in the area. This company went bust years ago, but it’s possible that there might be traces of harmful minerals left on the site.”

  “Such as what?”

  “Oh, radon, maybe? Thorium? Rare metals, anyway.” He drew a breath. “Personally I think Dan was on a hiding to nothing. If the survey had found anything like that, it would have been in such infinitesimal quantities that no one would have expressed the slightest concern. He was looking for a needle in a haystack.”

  “So what was the point?”

  “I’m guessing it must have been to spread alarm and consternation – to delay the project.”

  “And what did the survey find?”

  “Well, according to my colleague, it did find traces of some of these things, so in a way Dan was right. Whether the concentrations would have been high enough to worry anybody is another matter. My guess would be no – but then I’m a humble surveyor, not a chemist or a physicist, and certainly not a politician.”

  “So what happened to the survey?”

  “A report was presented to Dan Risby, and that was the end of it as far as we were concerned. I forgot to mention – there was a strict confidentiality clause. We were banned from disclosing the findings of the survey to anyone else, or even admitting that it had been undertaken.”

  “But you’re defying that ban?”

  “So it would seem.”

  We both fell silent as I considered what he’d just told me. Eventually I asked, “Can you get your hands on that report?”

  “Sorry, no. That would be more than my life is worth. But copies went to Dan Risby and Nick Hathaway. Maybe you could chase it up from their end?”

  I said, “I appreciate you telling me all this, but what are you expecting to get out of it?”

  He gave an empty laugh. “These people have treated us despicably for absolutely no reason, and I’m more or less certain that Nick Hathaway is the one behind it. I think he deserves a bit of his own medicine.”

  “Aren’t you worried about the implications of going public with this?”

  “Well, Dan Risby is dead now, so Hathaway is the only person who knows about that report. He’s sitting on it, which means he’s not playing fair with the other investors. I think it should be brought into the open, and then they can make an informed decision on what to do about it.”

  “But how will that help you?”

  “As things stand, we have no hope of getting any more work from his company, so this can’t make things any worse. On the other hand, if Hathaway were to be unseated by his board, well, things might change for the better.”

  I thanked Neil for coming forward, then sat for a long time wondering what to make of the information he’d given me. It seemed clear that Dan Risby had been hoping the environmental survey would come up with adverse findings. Then he could go to the other directors of the retail scheme and force them to suspend development. But why had he gone to such lengths?

  Again, the answer seemed plain enough. He’d already decided the project was doomed, either because of the warnings Jessica had flagged up to him, or simply because he was an astute reader of market trends. But Nick had some hold over him, and had probably overruled his objections.

  Threats of environmental blight would put a whole new complexion on the scheme. Nick couldn’t dismiss the findings of a survey by an authoritative third party. If it threw legitimate doubts on the viability of the scheme, Dan would get his way. The project would be halted, or at least delayed.

  But how could I get hold of that report? I’d never had any contact with Dan Risby or his family, and I had a strong sense Jess knew nothing about this. That brought me back to Nick Hathaway. Was there some way I could get hold of his copy?

  Chapter 70

  I phoned Sam.

  “Things are fine,” she told me in answer to my greeting. “I’m going back to my dad’s the day after tomorrow.”

  “Have you heard anything further from Nick?”

  “Nope. He’s keeping his head down.”

  “I don’t suppose there’s still any of his paperwork in the house?”

  “There might be some stuff upstairs in the room he used as an office. I haven’t looked. Why?”

  I explained briefly about the site survey Neil Wardell had told me about. “I was hoping we could find the report on it.”

  “You really want to hit out at Nick, don’t you?”

  That brought me up short. I said, “Is that how you see it?”

  “Well, I’ve left him, and he’s obviously pretty cut up about it. I’m not sure how it would help the situation to hurt him even more.”

  “Hurt him? I wouldn’t have thought you’d feel much concern about that after the way he spoke to you when I was there.”

  “I don’t. But you’re turning this into your battle, and it’s not yours. It’s mine.”

  She was right. In the back of my mind I’d had the idea that by investigating Nick, I would find out things that would reveal him to Sam in his true light. Yet in the end she’d broken up with him for her own reasons, and I’d only told her about my suspicions after the event. Meanwhile, my pursuit of him had morphed into something rather different. In effect, it had become a personal crusade.

  Admittedly, I was also still assuming there would be a worthwhile story for Smart Headings at the end of all this; yet I had to wonder if I would ever be able to publish it without throwing Sam herself into the spotlight. Was I really prepared to do that?

  I said “Of course this is about you. I see that. I’m sorry.”

  There was a moment’s silence, then she said, “Don’t sound so down, Mike. I’m not exactly pleased with what I’ve been hearing about Nick. Maybe I should face up to whatever else he’s been doing. It might help me move on.”

  “It has to be your call.”

  “Let me have a look upstairs. I’ll get back to you.”

  Five minutes later my phone buzzed. “I can’t find anything like the report you told me about,” sh
e said. “I think Nick took away most of his paperwork when he was here the other day.”

  “Well thanks for looking.”

  “Of course, the report could be in his flat.”

  “Or he might just have destroyed it.”

  “Nick doesn’t destroy anything. ‘You never know when you might need it’ – that’s his motto.”

  “Well that’s something.”

  “I tell you what – I was planning to go over to the flat tomorrow to pick up some stuff I left there when we moved into the cottage. I still have a key. I could take a look around while I’m there.”

  “That doesn’t seem a very good idea. What if he catches you?”

  “Oh, he won’t. I’ll pick a time when I know he’ll be somewhere else. It’s not difficult.”

  “No, seriously. He seemed in a very strange mood when we saw him. How would he react if he thought you were nosing around?”

  “I told you, he won’t know anything about it.”

  I didn’t like the sound of this, but she seemed confident enough. I said, “Well if you do start poking around, for god’s sake be careful. The more I learn about this man, the less happy I am about what he might be capable of.”

  “I will. Stop worrying!”

  * * *

  That afternoon I had an unexpected call from Phil Reynolds, the commissioning editor at the Seismic Scene news web site.

  “Mike? I made a note to phone you this week if I hadn’t heard from you. Did anything ever come of your story about the guy who was ripping off self-published authors?”

  Immediately I felt put on the spot. I’d discounted the idea of writing anything about Toni Harper, Rob Openshaw’s accomplice at the data management company in California. I’d given her my word that I wouldn’t. Did that leave any story?

  In an effort at deflection, I said, “I’m not sure about that, but I might be able to give you the inside track on a murder case.”

  “Oh yes? You mean the murder of this man Rob Openshaw?”

  “Sorry, no, I was talking about something completely different. It could be big, but it’s early days.”

  I wondered if Reynolds would start to see me as a fantasist, but he said, “Do you want to give me a clue?”

  “It’s a death that was ruled suicide, but there are good reasons for thinking it may not have been.” This sounded a bit thin, so I added, “It involves the property industry.”

  “All right, well keep me informed, will you?

  Another wave of doubt washed over me as I ended the call. Would it really turn out that Nick Hathaway had a hand in Dan Risby’s death? If so, would I want any part in publicising it? As Nick’s girlfriend at the time, Sam would surely come under close media scrutiny, and not just from Seismic Scene. It would be bad enough for her life to be raked over by the logistics press, but if this went mainstream it could become ugly.

  * * *

  The evening drew in, and I still hadn’t reached any conclusion about publicising what I’d been learning. I felt I needed a different slant on things, and it now occurred to me where I might get one. I phoned Jess.

  I started out cautiously. “Sam seems to be coming to terms with her split with Nick.”

  “Yup, I spoke to her yesterday. It’s great that she’s moving back to her dad’s. It’s like a reset. She can start again and let her life take a different course.”

  I had a feeling she was going to draw me into this scenario. To head her off I said, “How’s the retail world?”

  “Don’t ask. We’re still stuck with that effing Chilworth Fields project. It’s not good.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, did Dan Risby ever mention to you that he’d called for an environmental survey of the site?”

  “Not specifically, no. That kind of thing must have been done and dusted ages ago.”

  “This was something extra that he might have ordered on his own initiative – a kind of double-check to make sure no one had missed anything.”

  “Oh yes?” She was sounding more interested now. “And had they?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen the report.”

  “But you know there is one. So where is it? What does it say?”

  “Hang on! I’ll tell you what I know when I know enough to make it worth hearing.”

  “Hm.”

  “I just wanted to check that you didn’t have a copy of the report yourself.”

  “I wish.”

  It was time to take a new tack. I said, “I’m getting the sense that Nick Hathaway had some kind of hold over Dan. Do you have any idea what it might have been?”

  “Not really. It doesn’t surprise me, but I didn’t really know either of them well enough.”

  I needed to change gear. I said, “You won’t be upset if I ask you more about Dan’s life? You won’t think I’m being intrusive?”

  “Not if it’s in a good cause, no. Why? What do you want to know?”

  “Well, if Nick did have a hold over Dan, maybe we could work out what it was. Did Dan have any secrets that you knew about? Family skeletons? Strange vices?”

  “Ha! Not that I know of. He was a nice guy.” She thought about it for a moment. “The only thing I can think of is that he used to go clubbing. I told him it wasn’t my scene.”

  “Clubbing? You mean night clubs? Raves? He was a bit old for that, wasn’t he?”

  She chuckled. “No, I mean posh gentlemen’s clubs in Birmingham. Gambling clubs, that kind of thing.”

  Was this a chink of light? I said, “You don’t suppose he was in debt, do you?”

  “I’ve no idea.” She paused to reflect. “You could ask his mate Gary. They used to go to these clubs together.”

  “Gary?”

  “Gary Hobbs. I never met him, but he lives somewhere around Banbury. They grew up together.”

  Gary Hobbs was an executive at Antler Logistics in Solihull. He was the man to whom Dan Risby had reportedly leaked confidential information about the contract that Antler had ultimately stolen.

  More of the dots were beginning to connect.

  Chapter 71

  My approach to Gary Hobbs would require more than a little delicacy. In my head I ran through a whole range of directions our conversation might take, and most of them ended badly. When I finally dialled Antler Logistics’ number next morning I was half-hoping he wouldn’t be there.

  He was, and his greeting was unpromising. “Are you the same Mike Stanhope who fucked up my plans when I was at Latimer Logistics?”

  “I was working for Bob Latimer a couple of years ago, yes.”

  “So why should I talk to you? I suppose now you want to fuck up what we’re doing here at Antler? That’s why you came here in the summer, isn’t it? If Will Ponsonby had known who you were, he would never have spoken to you at all, let alone allowed you to write an article about us.”

  “This isn’t about Antler, it’s about Dan Risby.”

  “Dan? What the hell does he have to do with anything?”

  “He died in suspicious circumstances. I wondered what your take was.”

  “You mean he killed himself. Why are you bringing this up with me?”

  I paused for a moment. This wasn’t going well. I said, “Look, could we start this conversation again? I’m on your side here. I’m trying to be helpful.”

  “Helpful? In what way?”

  “I’m not happy with the way Dan died. It looks suspicious to me. I’m trying to work out what really happened, and I think you could help me.”

  “Not happy? Who do you think you are? Some kind of private eye? Or are you looking for another scoop for your paper?”

  I took a deep breath. “The bottom line is, do you want to know what really happened to Dan or don’t you?”

  “Why should I assume it was anything different from what the police said?”

  “Do you really believe it? That’s the point. Does it fit in with what you knew of him?”

  Finally he hesitated. “Not entirely, but what m
akes you think you know better than they do?”

  “It’s a long story, and it’s difficult to explain on the phone. Could we meet?”

  I held my breath, but in fact I didn’t need to. He said, “I’ve got to go to a meeting in Milton Keynes in a minute. I should be finished by one. You could catch me at Newport Pagnell services at one thirty. Is that any good to you?”

  * * *

  Newport Pagnell was fifty miles up the M1, and I struggled through a long section of road works, arriving at the service area late. I parked hastily and jogged over to the main building, worried that Gary Hobbs might already have left.

  He was still there, pensively sipping a coffee in one of the open seating areas. He hadn’t lost any of his good looks since I’d last seen him; his yellow hair and tanned features still gave him a starry aura. However, he wasn’t smiling as I walked up. He greeted me with, “What’s all this about then?”

  I sat down. “As I mentioned, it’s about Dan Risby. I’m not happy about his death.”

  “Nor am I, funnily enough.”

  I breathed a deep sigh. He said, “Go on then. Have your say.”

  I sat down facing him. “OK, well I’ve discovered that Dan was about to block progress on a major retail development in Rugby. He’d decided it wouldn’t make any money. But I think his partner Nick Hathaway wanted to prevent that from happening. He stood to lose a lot of his own money if the project didn’t go ahead. In the end, I’m wondering it he took drastic action.”

  “I know Nick. You’re not seriously telling me he had Dan killed to stop him from interfering in this development? For god’s sake!”

  I shrugged. “It’s possible. That’s what I’m trying to establish.”

  “You are? Why are you involved in this? Did you know Dan?”

  “No, I never met him. It came up in connection with a logistics article I was researching.”

  “So how would killing Dan get him off Nick’s case?”

  “Dan ordered a site survey that might have cast doubt on the environmental credentials of the development plot. Nick wanted to suppress it.”