by El Edwards
“Ms Diamond? Steve Parsons. Good to see you again.” He offered me his hand and I shook it.
“I’d say the same but under the circumstances …”
He smiled. “I understand.”
“Mrs Rogers wouldn’t let you in?”
“She said she wouldn’t do anything until you arrived.”
“May I speak with her? I’ll be right back.”
Steve looked at his watch. “Two minutes. We really need to get on with it.”
I nodded and knocked on Abigail’s front door. The door opened a crack, the chain firmly in place, but when she saw it was me, Abigail closed the door, took the chain off, then opened the door wide to let me in.
She gave me a brief hug and smiled. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Happy to help but I’m not sure what I can do. We’re not any closer to finding Toby so I doubt they’ll give us any more time.”
“Don’t tell them about the ransom money!” Abigail looked scared. “If they know I’m trying to get it, they’ll want to know why I won’t pay them.”
I couldn’t argue with her logic but a small unvoiced part of me sympathised with the bailiffs. They had a job to do and they were only here because Toby hadn’t paid his bills. What I was most interested in now though was finding out who the mystery creditor was and what, if anything, could be done to help ease the pressure on Abigail.
“We need to let them in. Maybe we can come to some kind of arrangement.”
Abigail put her hand on mine. “You promise it’ll be okay?”
“I promise.” I didn’t know what okay would look like, but I knew I could promise to help find it. Promises made, I opened the door and called out to Steve and his colleague. “Fancy a cuppa Steve?”
I led them into the kitchen and put the kettle on. “Have a seat guys. We need to sort out a solution for Abigail here. But first, are you content to talk to me about the debt this time? I’m here as Mrs Rogers representative.”
Steve looked at his colleague and nodded. “That sounds reasonable,” he said.
“So what are our options?”
I listened as Steve gave me a spiel about payment in full and the cost of removing goods. I found myself totally zoning out until he said two words that were like magic to my ears: payment plan. If we could negotiate a low enough monthly payment there was a good chance Abigail would go for that. It would also allow time for me to find Toby and get this whole mess sorted out.
Twenty minutes later and the payment terms were agreed. I decided it was time to play my trump card.
I turned to Steve. “One more thing Steve. Mrs Rogers has agreed to make payment. We’d really like a copy of the creditors agreement. The case with Toby Rogers is still ongoing and anything we can ascertain about his movements prior to his disappearance would be helpful.”
“Of course. It’s all in the paperwork.” He handed me a piece of paper and pointed to an address near the top. I thanked Steve and his colleague for their co-operation and showed them out.
When I came back I showed the details to Abigail. “Mean anything to you?” The address was a post office box based out of Cardiff.
She shook her head. “Sorry Charlie, I don’t know.”
“No worries.” I looked at the time. “Listen, if you’re okay here, I have a few errands I need to run before Toby’s parents arrive later.”
My lady with her broken shower had phoned and left a voice message during my drive here. It might not be glamorous but I was glad of the excuse to get some space between me and the Rogers family. I needed to clear my head and plumbing helped me think.
FORTY-SIX
When the lady with the broken shower opened her door to find me standing in front of it she looked delighted to see me.
“Wow, that was quick! I wasn’t expecting to see you for days yet.”
“I had a gap in my schedule and the part was in the van.”
“That’s wonderful, thanks so much.” She appeared to hesitate. “The only thing is, the bathroom’s in a bit of a mess.”
I hid my smile. She’d said that last time. “Honestly, it’s not a problem. You should see some of the places I go to.”
“Really? Well thank goodness!” She looked relieved. “Did you want a cup of tea or something?”
“Not for me thanks. This shouldn’t take too long.” I gestured to the shower fitting in my hand. “Do you know where your stopcock is?”
She showed me a tap at the back of the house, so ancient it wouldn’t turn. “I think that’s what the last chap used,” she said.
“How long ago was that?”
“Maybe four years ago. Five possibly. I had a new boiler.”
I looked at the tap. “There must be another tap. This one doesn’t look like it’s been opened or closed for years.”
Five minutes and one trip outside to the main road later and her water supply was off. “Did you want me to show you where it is so you’ll know for another time?”
“No thanks, you’re alright. I’ll just keep your card and phone you.”
One of my favourite aspects of the plumbing work was teaching women like this lady how to perform basic maintenance jobs in their homes. As such, there was nothing that would have given me greater joy that morning than showing my customer how to turn her water off and on. It was only a small thing but it was what it represented that was so important to me. Robbed of that pleasure, I went to the bathroom to get to work on the shower. It was a quick twenty minute job and I was soon back downstairs handing her the old shower hose and nozzle.
“If you give them a good soak you can keep them as spares,” I said.
She nodded absently. “Good idea.”
I could tell that both would be in the dustbin as soon as I’d left but at least I’d tried.
“Would you like that cup of tea or coffee before you go?”
I was about to refuse when I thought better of it. I had nothing urgent pressing for my attention and if the size of her kitchen was anything to go by, I was sure she’d make an amazing coffee. True to form, I watched as she pressed a couple of buttons and the machine was soon whizzing and purring away. I’d been using a hand grinder to grind my beans for the last three years so I was blown away with the speed at which she could make a coffee.
I took a sip, half expecting it to taste substandard, but it was the best cup of coffee I’d had in weeks. I couldn’t keep the look of bliss off my face.
“You like?” she asked.
“I love! What’s your secret?”
We sat and chatted about the relative merits of whole beans versus pre-ground and best storage practices for freshly roasted beans and before I knew it it was lunchtime.
“Why don’t you stay for lunch?”
“Oh I couldn’t.” The poor woman had already paid just over a hundred quid for me to fit a new shower. I couldn’t possibly encroach upon her hospitality any longer.
“Course you could.” She leaned in and spoke in an exaggerated whisper. “Truth be told, I’d be glad of the company, it gets pretty boring. You’re the most interesting thing that’s happened around here all week!”
I prayed silently on her behalf that that couldn’t possibly be true, the alternative was too depressing to entertain, and then graciously accepted her offer of lunch. I knew I mustn’t eat too much because I was expected for tea at Abigail’s house later but thanks to her bailiffs, I’d had to skip breakfast completely. If I didn’t eat something I might shrivel up and die before ever making it to teatime.
When lunch was ready we sat together in her conservatory to eat and I turned to the queen of small talk questions.
“So what do you do? When you’re not playing bingo that is.” I smiled. “Your husband mentioned you like to play.”
“Ha! He likes to think I like to play. It suits his ego to imagine the little wife at home, going out with the ladies, dinner on the table at six.”
“Ah so not one of life’s domestic goddesses then? Phew! I’m of
f the hook.” I grinned and she laughed.
“Not exactly. I’m an actor. Trying to be at least.”
“Anything I’d have seen you in?”
“That depends. How often do you partake of adult entertainment?”
“Adult entertainment?” My mind went blank for a moment but when I caught on to what she was asking me I felt my face flush. “Never!” I didn’t know where to look. “You mean you … that is, you like to … “ I decided I might as well just come right out and say it. “You’re a porn star?”
“Exotic dancer darling. Although my work is pretty niche.”
“How niche?” I could feel myself staring but couldn’t stop.
“I tend to focus on men who like a unique experience.”
I didn’t want to even ask what that meant so I just smiled and nodded. “Pays well then does it?”
“It’s like most things. You just have to apply enough pressure, stick with it and don’t let up until you get the result you want. I’ve been in this game for close on a decade now. When you’ve been around the block as many times as I have, you learn a thing or two about stickability.”
I believed her and something about her words stirred me at a physical level. Stickability wasn’t a lesson reserved exclusively for porn stars and it was just the education I needed to make my next move.
FORTY-SEVEN
Unfortunately for me, my very next move was back to Abigail’s house for tea with Toby’s parents. I was looking forward to seeing Carol and Saul again but I was worried about which Carol we’d see today: the bitter, angry woman from our first meeting or sweet and ready to do anything to help. Abigail only knew about the one meeting I’d had with them so I’d not had opportunity to warn her but they were both adults and they both loved Toby. I kept repeating the mantra in my head that that had to be enough. The Beatles song, All You Need Is Love had been playing on a loop in my head most of the morning. I just had to hope it was true.
When I pulled up outside Abigail’s house I saw a car I didn’t recognise on the drive. I glanced at the time. If it was Toby’s parents they were early. I rang the bell and was greeted by a smiling Abigail.
“Charlie, thanks for coming. We’re in the front room.”
“We? They’re here already?”
“Called an hour ago and asked if they could come early.” She whispered into my ear. “I was a bit worried but it’s all fine.”
We walked into the front room where I saw Carol and Saul sitting together on Abigail’s sofa with young Lucy on Saul’s knee. Lucy turned and looked at me and her bottom lip quivered but she was soon distracted by Saul bouncing her up and down. Sitting in the corner playing on an iPad was Alexander, Abigail’s son. We’d not met so I decided to introduce myself. I walked over to the boy and offered him my hand.
“Alexander? I’m Charlie, your mummy’s friend.”
He looked up from his iPad and eyed me suspiciously but then he grabbed my outstretched hand and gave it a little shake before returning to the iPad. Introduction over, I said hello to Carol and Saul.
“Don’t get up. You look like you’re nice and comfy there.” I gestured to Lucy.
I was about to offer to help make tea and coffee when my mobile rang. I glanced at the screen and saw it was Jack from the service station. Keen for any news he might have for me I made my excuses and went out into the hallway to speak to him.
“Hi Jack, how you doing?”
“Good thanks Charlie. Just wanted to let you know I’ve been asking around and I’ve come up with a name for you.”
“Go on?”
“Winkman and sons. Does that name ring a bell?”
“Other than sounding like Winkleman no, not a clue.”
“Well I have it on good authority that they’re one and the same. Something about insolvency or bankruptcy. I’m not sure of the legal jargon but rumour has it Winklemans was set up after Winkman went under.”
“And they got away with that? They sound almost exactly the same, it hardly seems possible.”
“Just telling you what I heard.”
“I appreciate it. Thanks Jack.”
I said goodbye and then sat on the stairs in Abigail’s hallway. If Winklemans had been trading as Winkman, they wouldn’t have come up during my search of Companies House. I felt my heart beating in my ears as I loaded the Companies House app on my phone. Ten seconds later I wanted to throw the wretched thing out the window when it pulled up hundreds of results. I decided to try the website instead and this time it was better. Much like the last time I’d checked, Bill Winkleman’s name didn’t bring up any matches and Toby too was clean but finally, just when I thought I should give up and go back into the front room, I struck gold. Winkman & Sons, dissolved August 2015. Last registered address, a PO Box in Bridgend.
Bingo! And I bet if I check the registered address for Winklemans it’ll lead me to the same location, I thought.
I couldn’t understand why Bill wasn’t a company director though, that made no sense to me. Even if his wife had been a director, that would have come back in the search results and it wasn’t like there could be that many Winklemans in South Wales. I clicked through to the list of officers and it was then that I had the biggest shock of the week. Listed as secretary for Winkman & Sons was one Tobias Rogers. His correspondence address was listed as somewhere in Cardiff but that had to be him. The little weasel!
There could be a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this. It was entirely possible that it was all above board and honest, but Abigail’s father had told me he introduced Toby to the company. There’d been no mention of him being in any way connected to Bill’s previous company. Whatever was going on, Bill Winkleman had some explaining to do.
I went back into the front room to be greeted by the heart-warming scene of Abigail and her in-laws chatting, the children with them, one big happy family, and I was torn. For the first time in years they were all getting along. I didn’t know how it had happened or who had said what to make it all right again, but they were happy, united by their love of Toby. How could I take that love and tell them their precious son and husband might actually be embroiled in something dodgy? Besides, I still had more questions than answers. I didn’t know if Bill was connected to Toby’s disappearance. I didn’t know what connection, if any, this latest revelation had to the ransom request. I didn’t even know how the creditors listed on the paperwork from the bailiffs tied in. Until I could give them a concrete explanation, I was quite content to let them enjoy their family moment.
In the meantime though, I had more work to do than ever. I had to go back to the site and see Bill and if like last time he wasn’t there, I was perfectly happy to apply as much pressure as necessary to find out where he might be. It was time for them to know that I, Charlie Diamond, meant business.
FORTY-EIGHT
By the time I parked the van at the building site it was almost dark. Floodlights were on and I could see a few figures dotted about but it was clear that most of the men had packed up for the night. I knocked on the door of Bill’s office, not really expecting a reply and, just like last time, it was locked and empty. I sighed. Just for once it would have been nice not to have go trudging about in the mud but today was not going to be that day. I pulled my coat tighter around me and walked towards the nearest figure.
“You alright love?”
“Hi there.” I didn’t recognise the man. “I’m looking for Mr Winkleman. Has he been on site today?”
“Not sure love. He sort of comes and goes like. Why, who’s asking?”
“Charlie Diamond.” I showed him my card.
“Private investigator?” He squinted his eyes to read it in the poor light. “What’s all this about?”
“Mr Winkleman’s been helping me with my investigation. I’m looking for Toby Rogers. Do you know him?”
He shook his head. “Don’t really know anyone love. Only started last week.”
“So you don’t know where Mr Winkleman l
ives?”
“Nope, sorry. Can’t help you there.”
“Is there anyone around who might know?”
“Have you tried in the office?”
I sighed. “Yep, no answer, office is locked.”
After going around in circles with the man for another couple of minutes I decided it was all a complete waste of time and went back to my van. I sat behind the wheel watching the comings and goings on the site. There weren’t many people around and I was about to start the engine and go home when I saw a figure walk to the office, take a bunch of keys out of his pocket, unlock the door and go in. He didn’t turn the light on but I could see the glow of something, maybe a mobile phone, moving round the office. Less than two minutes later the man came back out carrying a bundle of papers under his arm. He looked around before locking the office and heading straight towards the car park and me. I ducked down in my seat, thankful for the poor lighting, and watched as the man climbed into one of the cars and started his engine. Without even thinking about it I waited for him to pull away then started my engine and followed him.
I kept my distance as he drove, acutely aware that my van wasn’t exactly the ideal vehicle for tailing someone. The traffic was steady but as we moved further out of town it started to thin and I was worried he might notice me following him. I wasn’t really sure what I was hoping to achieve but with no sign of Bill on site, someone had to be keeping him up to date with progress. What better way than to have one of the men deliver things to you personally? Wherever the man was going, I was determined to find out.
