by Sally Rigby
‘Thank you, but no. I’ll let you know how I get on after speaking to Sarah.’
Chapter 13
9 May
The moment Seb turned into the long drive leading to Sarah’s house, Elsa started getting excited, wagging her tail and pushing her nose up against the car window. She clearly recognised where they were and remembered the fun she’d had playing in the grounds. He parked outside the front of the house. There was only one other car there, which belonged to Sarah.
He rang the bell several times, and after a few minutes Sarah came around the side of the house, mud smeared on her face, wearing gardening gloves and old clothes.
‘I thought I heard the bell. I’ve been working in the garden. It’s extremely therapeutic, and I get so engrossed that it makes me forget about everything else. I hadn’t realised the time.’
He leant down and kissed her on both cheeks. When he’d called earlier to ask about Donald’s friends, she’d invited him over.
‘I thought you had a gardener?’
‘We used to, but I’ve had to let him go. There’s a man in the village who comes in once a fortnight to mow the lawns as it’s such a big job. The rest I can manage myself. I’ve had to let most of the staff go as I can’t afford to keep them. All I have now is Dee, a local woman, who does the cleaning and helps with other jobs when I need her. Really, she’s a luxury, so I don’t know how long I’ll be able to keep her. Come on around the back.’
He let Elsa off the lead, and she went charging ahead of them. ‘She had such fun the last time. I expect she’ll make for the woods.’
‘Will she be okay on her own?’
‘She never goes far. She’ll find us soon enough once she’s had enough of running around.’
‘I’m parched. Let’s go inside for a cup of tea.’ They walked around the back and into the kitchen and she filled the kettle. ‘I’ve got Earl Grey, English Breakfast, or peppermint and ginger herbal tea.’
‘The latter would be lovely.’
‘I’ll join you,’ she said, taking out two mugs and pouring boiling water over the tea bags. She took two small plates from the dresser and a tin from the pantry. ‘Cake?’
‘I haven’t long since had lunch, but what the heck,’ he said, the smell of the chocolate invading his senses as she opened the tin and wafted it under his nose.
‘Home-made. All I’ve been doing recently is baking to keep me occupied.’
‘Have the boys gone back?’
‘They left this morning to give themselves time to get settled before their lectures.’
‘Do they share a flat?’
‘They’re both in the same halls of residence and they see each other often, although they do have their own sets of friends. They don’t tell me much, but you know what kids of that age are like.’
‘How were they after the funeral?’ If Donald’s death did turn out to be suspicious, then the police would want to question them.
‘Okay, as far as I can tell, which is hard because they don’t confide in me. They think it’s manly not to share their feelings. They’re both very like Donald in that respect.’ They sat at the big oak kitchen table in the centre of the room. ‘So how’s it all going?’ she asked just as he’d taken a bite of cake. He held up his hand to signal that he’d speak once he’d finished.
‘I’m working with a DC from the local police force.’
‘The police are getting involved in the investigation? How on earth did you manage that? At the time of Donald’s death, they took very little notice of anything I said. Is it because you used to be in the police?’ she asked, her eyes bright.
‘No, this is someone I phoned regarding accessing the police report, and the only way I could get it from her, together with the coroner’s report, was if I let her work with me on the QT.’
‘That sounds a bit odd. Who is she?’
‘DC Lucinda Bird. Known as Birdie. She’s very different from most officers I’ve come across of her age. But certainly entertaining. She’s helping me during her time off and so far, has been very useful. I wanted to ask you about Donald’s friends. I thought I’d speak to one or two of them to get a better picture of how he was in recent times.’
‘Donald didn’t really have any friends. Plenty of acquaintances and he was always being invited to various events, or charity golf tournaments, but no one really close. In fact, the only friend of his he’s had for many years is Tony Yates. You might have met him at our silver wedding party.’
‘I didn’t meet anyone of that name, but considering there were around two hundred people there, that’s hardly surprising.’
‘Tony was Donald’s best friend from university. We used to go out occasionally as couples, his wife is Pauline. To be honest he was more Donald’s friend, and although Pauline was pleasant, we didn’t hit it off enough to meet up outside of any couple’s activity we did together. In fact, I can’t even remember the last time I saw them.’
Tony Yates. Seb’s mind was filtering information he’d seen. ‘Is his proper name Anthony?’
‘Yes, I believe it is. Why?’
‘He was one of Donald’s investors. I will definitely contact him.’
‘Would you like his number?’
‘I already know it, from the records. Are you sure you can’t think of any other friend I could talk to?’
‘No, sorry,’ she said, shaking her head.
‘Did Donald ever mention Bert and Pearl Black, they were clients of his for many years?’
‘I haven’t heard their names before. Should I have?’
‘Bert knew Donald from the Rotary club.’
‘Donald was a member for many years, and I went to their charity events with him, but I don’t recall ever meeting them.’
‘No problem. I spoke to Edgar yesterday, and he’s still bitter about what happened. He’d actually made two large investments with Donald and neglected to tell Celia about the latest one, which was the reason behind them losing everything as he’d cashed in all his other investments to fund it.’
‘Goodness … he kept it from Celia. That’s a surprise. Edgar has kept well away from me since Donald’s death. I don’t blame him, I suppose, but he has to know it was nothing to do with me. Does he hate me?’
‘No, he doesn’t. He realises that you wouldn’t have known anything about Donald’s scheme. To be honest, the issue is more with Celia.’
‘That doesn’t surprise me. Has he been forbidden to see me?’
‘Give them time and I’m sure they’ll come around. Birdie and I went to Foxton Locks to the location Donald was found, and then we went into the pub close by. The manager knew Donald as he often used the place for meetings with prospective clients. Did you ever go there with him?’
‘Yes, occasionally I did. Maybe a couple of times a year. It’s a lovely location, and the food is good.’
‘Donald was there with someone on the day he died.’
‘I told you he went out to meet a client, but he didn’t give me their name and it wasn’t in his diary, nor did he tell me exactly where they were meeting.’
‘Did the police ask you about it?’
‘No because I think they thought he’d made it up, to give him an excuse for going out that day. It didn’t help that I couldn’t give a name or provide any record of the meeting.’
‘It’s an understandable conclusion to make. According to the report, Donald’s car was left in Foxton village itself and not in the car park where his body was found.’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘Did the police explain why they thought it was left there?’
‘I didn’t think to ask and no one mentioned it to me. The first I knew of it was when the tow truck brought his car back.’ She sighed. ‘That makes me sound so stupid, but at the time I wasn’t thinking straight.’
‘You’re not stupid. It’s hard to think rationally when you’re grief-stricken. Could I take a look at the car?’
‘I no longer have it.
I sold it a few weeks ago. The man who does the lawns took it to the car auctions in Northampton as I couldn’t face doing it myself. I’m sorry.’
Damn. It would have been cleaned by now so nothing for him to look at.
‘It’s not important, don’t worry about it.’
‘After what you’ve done so far, do you think I’m justified in my beliefs about the death?’
‘It’s too early to say. Yes, there are some anomalies, but none so far which have caused me to question the police and coroner’s verdict. But that doesn’t mean I’ll stop investigating.’
Chapter 14
10 May
Seb parked in Newarke Street car park and headed down York Road until reaching Oxford Street. He pressed the button on the crossing and waited for the green man to show so he could cross the busy Leicester road. He’d arranged an appointment for two o’clock with Donald’s friend Tony Yates who had a large quantity surveying practice in the city. Birdie had moaned that he was going without her, but she was working and he wasn’t prepared to sit twiddling his thumbs waiting for when she was available. He’d never visited the city, although he’d recently read that it was in the top ten places for people to live in terms of quality of life, ahead of London, Nottingham, and Derby. From what little he’d seen of it, so far, he liked the vibe.
Yates and Co was in a large office block, and after studying the board listing the companies housed there, he took the lift to the seventh floor. The reception was chrome and glass, and behind the desk sat a twenty-something man wearing a suit and tie.
‘Good afternoon. The name’s Clifford and I’m here to see Tony Yates. I have an appointment at two.’
‘If you’d like to take a seat over there, I’ll let him know you’ve arrived.’ The receptionist pointed him to a waiting area where there was a black leather sofa and matching chairs.
Seb headed over and sat down. He picked up a book on iconic buildings around the world from the glass-topped coffee table in front of him, and flicked through the pages. Buildings had always fascinated him.
‘Mr Clifford?’ He glanced up at the woman standing a short way from him, smiling. ‘I’m Dawn, Mr Yates’s executive assistant, if you’d like to come with me, I’ll take you to his office.’
He followed her down the corridor until they reached an open door with Tony Yates Managing Director on the brass nameplate. Inside were two desks, one empty and the other with a young woman speaking on the phone. An internal door was situated to the right of the two workstations, and Dawn gently knocked and opened it.
‘Mr Clifford to see you, Tony.’
‘Come on in,’ Yates said, walking around his desk to where Seb stood and shaking his hand. He was slim with salt-and-pepper short hair and stood six inches shorter than Seb. He was dressed conservatively in a pair of dark navy suit trousers, the jacket hanging on a coat stand beside the door, a white shirt and paisley tie.
‘Would you like anything else?’ Dawn asked.
Was he going to be offered a coffee? That would be most welcome.
‘No, we’re fine, thank you. Please take a seat.’ Yates gestured to the large table by the floor-to-ceiling corner window.
‘What a magnificent view,’ Seb said, admiring the one-hundred-and-eighty-degree skyline, a mix of old and new buildings, all blending effortlessly.
‘There have to be some perks of being the owner of the company, and having the best office is one of them,’ Yates said, standing by the window and giving a contented sigh, before returning his attention to Seb. ‘You informed my assistant that you wished to speak to me about Donald Witherspoon, on Sarah’s instruction.’
‘Yes, that’s right. Thank you for seeing me, I wasn’t sure you would under the circumstances.’
‘Initially I was going to refuse, then curiosity got the better of me. Why did Sarah want you to speak to me?’
‘She isn’t convinced by the suicide verdict and I’m investigating for her.’
‘Clutching at straws, I suspect,’ Yates said, shaking his head. ‘How’s she doing?’
‘As well as can be expected. It’s been tough for her and the boys. Have you been in touch with her? I noticed you weren’t at the funeral.’
He already knew the answer to that question but hoped to trigger a response to help him gauge the depth of his feelings about the situation.
‘I should have gone, but how could I after what had happened? I realise it wasn’t Sarah’s fault, but ...’ He shrugged.
‘Unfortunately, many people felt the same as you and she’s been left on her own to deal with her loss and the fallout from the discovery of his financial mismanagement.’
‘Do you agree with Sarah about the suicide verdict?’
‘My investigation is ongoing and as yet I don’t have a definitive answer.’
‘Are you a private investigator?’ he asked, frowning.
‘No, I’m not.’
‘What skills do you have, in that case? I hope you’re not taking advantage of Sarah in her vulnerable position.’
The irony of the comment, coming from someone who hadn’t even bothered to contact her, didn’t escape Seb.
‘Aside from being Sarah’s cousin, I’m a former police officer, and my colleague on this case is a serving officer.’
Perhaps he shouldn’t have mentioned that, not that it would get Birdie in trouble as he hadn’t mentioned her name.
‘Fair enough. Fire away. What do you want to know?’
‘I’d like a little background on the two of you. I know that you and Donald went back a long way, and that you were his only real friend. Can you give me a potted history of your relationship?’
‘We were in the same halls of residence at Leicester University and met during freshers’ week. We hit it off straight away and were friends ever since. I admit we didn’t see each other as much as we’d have liked in later years, but we would meet up every now and again, at charity events or social functions. And then sometimes, when our diaries allowed, we’d go out for drinks to catch up. Occasionally, we’d make up a foursome with him and Sarah, but my wife Pauline wasn’t keen on doing that. She liked Sarah well enough, but she disliked Donald and thought his friendly outgoing nature was all a facade. She saw what the rest of us didn’t, as it turned out.’
Was that enough for her to take matters into her own hands after discovering the fraud? Which would mean she’d have had to have known about losing their money before the death and it had become general knowledge.
‘From what I’ve discovered from his records, you invested a substantial amount of money with him at the beginning of this year.’
‘Yes, that’s right, I did. Two hundred thousand.’
‘Can you confirm that you’d never invested with him before?’
‘That’s correct, because I like to keep business and pleasure separate.’
Except he didn’t this time.
‘Why did you change your mind and invest in January?’
Yates leant forward slightly, and lowered his voice, as if wanting to make sure that no one else could hear. ‘He contacted me because he was desperate. He was having a difficult time financially and asked me if I could help.’
‘Had he ever asked you to help him out before?’
‘No, that was the one and only time.’
‘And you were happy to invest two hundred thousand pounds. That’s a lot of money to find.’
‘I have a thriving business and he was in trouble. He’d have helped me if the situation was reversed.’
‘How were you able to lay your hands on such a large amount?’
‘It has nothing to do with you.’ His body stiffened.
Seb immediately went on alert.
‘I’m trying to get a picture of how desperate he was and how deep your friendship went. Judging by your comments, I’m guessing you had to either liquidate some stocks or borrow from the bank.’
‘What else could I do? He was my friend. I borrowed from the bank.’
‘Did he discuss how he was going to pay you back?’
‘It was an investment, and I was going to get a return on my money, in the same way as the rest of his clients. I agreed to a five-year term.’
Nothing was sitting right.
‘So you tied up two hundred thousand pounds for five years. How did you receive your dividends?’
‘I was due quarterly payments and, before you ask, no I didn’t receive any. After the first due date had been and gone, I contacted him and he said there was a problem and he promised that next quarter it would be fine. There wasn’t a next quarter because he was dead before the time came around.’
‘And now you’ve lost that money and you’re left having to pay back a loan for which you having nothing to show.’
He nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘When was the last time you saw Donald?’
‘We met up in early January, when he came to see me about borrowing the money.’
‘After you’d agreed to invest, did you meet up again?’
‘No, because we were both too busy. We conducted our business electronically.’
‘What were you doing on Saturday, 10 April? We know he’d gone to Foxton Locks pub with a client, and I wondered if that was you?’
Yates didn’t match the vague description the pub manager had given, but Seb sensed something going on and he wanted to check.
‘I told you only moments ago that I hadn’t seen him since January. What are you implying?’
‘I’m not implying anything. Just trying to get an idea of Donald’s life recently. I thought you could help.’
‘I have nothing further to say and have work to do.’
He was being dismissed.
‘Thank you for speaking to me. Do you mind if I get in touch again if I have further questions?’
‘If you must.’
Chapter 15
11 May
‘It’s me,’ Birdie said, when Seb answered the phone.
He’d just finished his lunch and was intending to give Sarah a call to update her on his meeting with Tony Yates. He didn’t have much to tell her, but he wanted to keep in touch to check on how she was doing. Someone had to.
