He doubted that they would; life never worked that way.
****
Wednesday. Six a.m.
Craig hadn’t slept at all. Not only because Katy’s visit had meant company and warmth, talking and love-making into the wee small hours. He hadn’t slept even when she had; lying awake instead, imagining the fate of the Bwyes.
The caller hadn’t specified when and where they wanted the ransom, meaning he couldn’t picture the venue for the drop and ready his men. But it wasn’t that which stole his sleep, it was a creeping uneasiness that something, even more than the obvious something, was very wrong. He couldn’t put his finger on it. Each time he got close it slipped away and he jerked awake chasing it, with it far too far away to catch.
At six a.m. he gave up and slipped quietly out of bed for an early shower, closing the bathroom door and keeping the water to a trickle so as not to make a noise. Katy woke as soon as he moved and lay wondering what was troubling him so much. The case of course; some aspect of it was beyond his control. But not only that, there was something more. She could hazard a guess at what it was, but she needed to hear it from him if she was to be of any help.
She’d seen changes in him in the past few weeks; he was sharper, quicker to anger and there were fewer and shorter smiles, even for her. He’d been drinking too much as well, often alone, the signs obvious when she’d arrived at his flat. It hadn’t been helped by John’s enthrallment with his new marriage, meaning that their once frequent boys’ nights were a thing of the past. But that wasn’t the cause of the changes, and the moods and drink weren’t all; there was a still, coiled aggression in him nowadays, as if he was a gun just waiting to go off.
Craig returned, washed, dressed and ready to leave, interrupting her analysis. He gazed down at her like a parent with a naughty child.
“You’re supposed to be asleep.”
Her smile widened to a grin. “Remind me to tell myself off.”
She nodded at the kettle and as it boiled she took his hand and pulled him to sit on the bed, gazing at him with a question. He shook his head.
“I don’t know what’s bothering me, pet; something just feels off. Like there’s a whole dimension in this case I’m missing.”
It was as close to an admission that he was out of sorts as she was going to get today; personal things would have to wait. She slipped from bed and brought back two coffees, then summarised in a logical tone.
“OK, three people have disappeared and there’s a lot of blood belonging to the elder Bwyes and a dog, probably the daughter’s. The girl’s blood isn’t there, so either she went quietly or she was in on it. Now you have a ransom demand which you’re assuming is for all three. That’s hopeful isn’t it?”
Craig wanted to say yes but he couldn’t. He shook his head.
“They could be dead and the bastards would still ask for ransom.”
“But they must know that you won’t give it without proof of life.”
Craig sipped his coffee. “Not necessarily. If the estate’s lawyers want to pay it then we can’t stop them. We can only advise. If they have the sense to ask for proof of life then we might stand a chance.”
His dull tone told Katy the money was secondary. As she scanned Craig’s face her jaw dropped.
“You think it was an inside job!”
He glanced at her admiringly, knowing that she’d read something in his face. She was right; he did think someone in the family had organised it; it was partly what had wrecked his sleep. He played devil’s advocate, interested in what else she might have to say.
“What makes you say that?”
“It’s written all over you. But why would Oliver Bwye arrange for himself to be kidnapped as well? Unless…”
“Yes?”
“He wanted rid of the wife and daughter but didn’t want to be implicated. He wants to look like a victim too.” Her eyes widened. “What if he wants to start a new life elsewhere with someone else? But he couldn’t do that if he was locked up for kidnapping or murder.”
It made sense, especially if, as they suspected, Bwye had a mistress, but something still wasn’t ringing true. He rose to leave and her face fell.
“Did I say something wrong?”
He was surprised, then he looked at what his actions had said; not commenting on her idea and then heading for the door, anyone would think that it was their fault. He was thoughtless nowadays. He retook his seat and leaned in to kiss her.
“You’ve said everything right, pet. I’m sorry, but I’m just a million miles away. Go back to sleep for a while, you’ve a long trip back to Belfast.”
Katy grinned mischievously and tucked the covers tightly round her neck. “And a whole morning’s shopping to do before I go.”
****
9 a.m.
Craig faced the small group and saw their bleary eyes matched his own. Liam’s boomed-out words said that he’d noticed as well.
“You look like crap, boss. Bad night?”
Craig came back like lightning. “I didn’t sleep. What’s your excuse?”
Andy guffawed loudly. “You’ll not try that one again.”
Liam was undeterred. “Even on my worst day I’m prettier than you, White.”
Craig let the talk continue for a moment then, when everyone had a coffee and Danish in their hands, he started to report.
“You all know about the ransom call. We have the amount but no venue and no proof of life as yet, so they’ll have to call back if they want their money.”
Even he was surprised that he’d added the caveat. Who wouldn’t want their money? And yet he’d said if. He moved on quickly.
“We have to treat this as a real chance to get the Bwyes back safely, so I’ve notified the estate’s lawyers to do whatever they have to do to gather the cash.”
Annette cut in. She was the only one of them that didn’t look like death warmed up and Craig knew she’d avoided the overheated hotel and a long drive by staying at Mike’s nearby holiday home.
“Are we going to pay them, sir?”
Craig shook his head. “I hope it doesn’t come to that, although we can’t stop the estate if they want to.” He took a sip of coffee and carried on. “Thanks to Andy and Julia we have the taps in place on the phones if they call back. OK, what else?” The question was rhetorical. “We have two of the Bwye’s DNAs confirmed and the third DNA was canine, so there’s a dog somewhere injured or dead that we haven’t found yet.”
Liam interjected. “We don’t know which two of the Bwye’s the blood belongs to yet, do we?”
Craig rolled his eyes. “Were you asleep yesterday? We matched it to Oliver and Diana Bwye.”
“Oh. Aye well, I was probably thinking deep thoughts when you said it.”
“I don’t think ‘what’s for dinner’ counts as a deep thought.” He turned to Davy. “How are we doing with the background checks?”
Davy shook his head and Craig noticed a new flash of green amongst his black hair. He didn’t ask.
“It’s s…slow going. So far I’ve found that one of the grounds men, Brendan Gordon, has a record for assault -”
Craig cut in sharply. “What sort of assault?”
“W…With a deadly weapon. He was eighteen. He was attacked in the s…street by a couple of guys and pulled a knife.”
Liam spluttered into his drink. “That’s self-defence, or at worst carrying a dangerous weapon! What numpty categorised it as assault?”
Davy scanned the screen for a name. “The prosecution barrister was Rory Davis. Do you know him?”
Liam rolled his eyes. “Old boy. He should have been put out to pasture years ago.”
Craig interrupted. “What age is Gordon now, Davy, and who was the arresting officer?”
“He’s twenty-five and it was a D.I. Terence Harrison.” As he said it Davy’s eyes widened. “Is that Teflon?”
Liam and Andy nodded together. “Yep.”
Terry Harrison had been a creep even when he
’d been an inspector. He’d landed a youngster with a serious record just for defending himself.
“Did the boy do time?”
Davy nodded. “Two years in Magilligan, out in one on licence.”
Craig shook his head. If Brendan Gordon hadn’t gone into prison a criminal he’d sure as hell come out as one.
“What’s his record been like since?”
“Minor offences. Mostly petty theft. There was a GBH charge in 2010 just after his licence expired but he w…wasn’t convicted.”
Craig nodded. “Let me have the details of everything as soon as you can; I’ll interview Gordon myself. Liam, I’d like you with me on that.”
Liam was puzzled; two senior officers interviewing Gordon seemed like overkill, but his was not to reason why. Craig continued.
“Right, unless none of you left here last night, which would have been above and beyond the call of duty, I’ll assume we’re still where we were at six p.m. yesterday. That means you all know what you’ve got to get on with. Yes?”
He was answered by a staggered series of nods that didn’t convince him. “OK, humour me and let’s go round. Annette?”
Annette smiled confidently. “I’m seeing Ross again to press her harder on the car and dog, and I was going to ask her more about Oliver Bwye’s sex life, sir.”
Liam’s eyes widened as if he hadn’t had sex for a year. Craig continued before he said something rude.
“Good. I’m particularly interested in any mistresses Bwye’s had through the years, right up to the present day.”
Liam gazed at him curiously. “You really think Bwye staged everything to run off with some woman?”
Craig shrugged. “It would be cheaper than a divorce. If he’s found injured and the only survivor, he’ll think we’ll see him as a victim and be free to start a new life. He wouldn’t be the first person to underestimate the police.”
Liam shook his head. “I can see him killing the wife but why the daughter?”
Craig had no answer and he wouldn’t have until they found the Bwyes, dead or alive. He waved Annette on.
“That’s really everything, sir. I thought I’d ask Ross about the other staff as well; I don’t want her to feel like a suspect when she could be of use.”
“Good idea. Liam, what’s your plan today?”
“To interview Gordon with you by the sounds of it. Andy’ll have to supervise the search of the area round the lake.”
Craig shook his head. “It’ll only take us a couple of hours to see Gordon then we can pitch in on the van, lake and the rest of the interviews. Andy, can you get the statements Julia and Gerry took from the cook and head gardener and cast an eye over them, please. Anything we need to follow up we can do tomorrow.”
Andy nodded; it was going to be a busy day. “I’ll send them up to check on the burned out car. They might see something forensics missed, hey.”
“OK. Davy, what’s happening at your end?”
Davy spread his arms wide, indicating that he was covering everything. “Residual prints from the main room and in here, deep background checks on the s…staff, and I thought I’d run Cameron Lawton and Vera Patterson as well, and the victims’ backgrounds of course.”
Craig nodded. Davy’s deep backgrounds missed nothing. He would uncover what sort of sweets they’d liked as kids. He was still speaking.
“Bank accounts, credit cards, w…withdrawals, deposits for all staff and the Bwyes. That s…should pick up anything unusual -”
Craig cut in. “What about Jane Bwye’s unsuitable boyfriend? Do we have anything on him yet?”
“Nothing yet. I think your best bet is one of the s…staff knowing something, or her friends. I’m trying to find out who she mixed with, called, emailed. I should have something for you soon.”
“Good.”
“Other than that I’m checking the family’s insurance; car and otherwise.”
Craig stopped him. “You’re thinking of life insurance?”
“And K&R.”
Liam made a face. “What’s that?”
“Kidnap and Ransom. Lots of w…wealthy people take out insurance in case they’re kidnapped; to pay for ransoms, private searches, negotiators etc. It usually applies abroad but Oliver Bwye was hated here so he may have taken some out.”
Craig thanked God his staff thought of the things he missed.
“Excellent. On that note, Davy, Cameron Lawton is compiling a list of people who hated Bwye, get that from him please.”
Davy smiled, already two steps ahead. “He’s sending it through later. I’ll run checks on the names w…when it comes in.” He indicated the laptop beside Craig. “I’m running the CCTV and traffic cams around the phone box where the ransom call was made.” He made a face. “I just w…wish Bwye had had some cameras rigged around his estate.”
Craig thought for a moment. Why hadn’t he? He had a hunch. “Davy, check if Bwye ever had cameras and, if he had, when they were removed.”
Liam smiled; Craig was almost as cynical as he was. “You think Bwye planned the kidnap in advance.”
“I don’t think anything; I’m just asking the question.” He turned back to Davy. “I know you don’t discuss cases with Maggie, but has she said anything?”
Davy’s girlfriend was one of the few journalists that Craig didn’t dislike.
Davy smiled teasingly. “Now, you know w…we wouldn’t do that, chief, but…”
Craig smiled. “Spit it out.”
Davy leaned in conspiratorially. “She did mention that Diana Bwye visited The Chronicle’s offices last w…week.”
“Something for her husband?”
Davy shook his head vigorously. “No, that’s just it! She went into Ray Mercer’s office and s…spent almost an hour in there.”
Liam gawped at him. “When were you going to tell us this? I drove you all the way here this morning and you never said a word!”
Davy was indignant. “S…She only told me last night and I’ve had better things to think about s…since then.”
“Aye, and we all know what they are.”
Craig waved them down. “Davy, see what more you can find out on Mrs Bwye’s visit; I’d like to find out what it was about without alerting Mercer. He’s an unsavoury bugger so whatever they were discussing it probably wasn’t good.”
Davy nodded. “OK. I’ll see what Maggie can dig up.”
Craig could see Liam about to start another rant about Davy not keeping him informed so he cut him off. “Everyone’s got plenty to keep them busy. We’ll brief again at four.”
He headed for the door, not missing Liam deliberately dragging his heels.
“Liam, we’ve an interview to do.”
Liam glared at a smiling Davy so Craig emphasised his point.
“Now!”
Chapter Ten
Derry Station. 11 a.m.
“Tell me again, Ms Ross. Exactly what did you see when you left Rocksbury last Wednesday evening?”
Bernadette Ross squinted in the interview room’s neon light, trying to make eye contact with Annette. She couldn’t and it was intentional. Annette was standing by the door, deliberately positioned so the light’s glare hid her face. She’d been pleasant when they’d met before, perhaps too pleasant; today would be different.
Ross’ voice squeaked back. “I told you. Mr Bwye had gone to the golf-club earlier and Mrs Bwye was sitting in front of a blank TV screen when I left. Then, as I went down the drive, Jane drove past me in her blue Mercedes.”
Annette leaned in. “Except that you told us the car was Jane’s and it isn’t registered to her. In fact it’s not registered to any of the Bwyes.”
Ross looked genuinely surprised. She spluttered out a defence. “I didn’t know that. Maybe…maybe it was hidden by Diana for tax purposes. I do know Jane doesn’t have the money to buy her own car and that she kept it secret from her father. She never drove it when he was around.”
“Doesn’t Jane work?”
Ross shook her head. “She’s supposed to be a student.” The emphasis was on supposed.
“Studying what?”
Ross shrugged. “Fashion. Although as far as I can see the closest she gets to fashion is buying it.”
Annette scented blood. She shifted so that Ross could see her face. “What does she use for money?”
“Mr Bwye gives her a small allowance and her mother sneaks her money when she thinks nobody’s watching.”
The meaningful glance that accompanied her words said there was more there if Annette dug.
“Money’s a bone of contention in the family?”
Bernadette Ross smiled slowly as if she was going to tease out her reply. A sharp look from Annette quickly changed her mind.
“The Bwyes are rich on paper, super rich even, but a lot of the money is tied up in Mr Bwye’s companies and it can’t be accessed unless there’s a directors’ vote…”
Annette interrupted. “How many directors are there?”
“Five in one company and six in the other. It takes a unanimous vote for money to be withdrawn and their agreement depends on -”
Annette interrupted, nodding. “Market forces. They won’t release money if it could impair the company’s chances of survival.”
“Or affect the share price. So liquidating funds in a hurry is difficult, sometimes impossible.”
It didn’t bode well for the ransom payment.
Annette had a hunch. “What happens in the event of Mr Bwye’s death?”
“The money passes to the next of kin. A lump sum is released to them; around forty per cent of the total and the rest remains in the companies. The same process applies when they die and so on.” Ross’ eyes widened. “You don’t think…”
“I don’t think anything. I’m just gathering information. Tell me more about Jane’s allowance.”
She thought it was time to play good cop again. She rang for coffee and took a seat, waiting till John Ellis had brought it through before restarting.
“OK, Jane’s allowance.”
Ross sipped her coffee, grateful that she was no longer being treated like the enemy. “Jane’s twenty-one next week and that’s when most of her rich friends get access to their trust funds, but Mr Bwye likes to keep his family on a short leash, so he set thirty as Jane’s inheritance date.”
The Sixth Estate (The Craig Crime Series) Page 12
