“Right sir. Thank you, sir.”
“OK. Is there anything else?”
“Not much, sir. I’ve been on house-to-house all day.” He looked up. “Oh, apparently some old buffer interviewed by John Prendergast reckoned he’d seen this girl get into some bloke’s blue car.”
“Ha! Not you, is it, Mallinson? You’ve got a blue car.”
“Oh, it’s certainly not me, sir. I’m not interested in skinny twelve-year-olds. I like something a whole lot bigger than that to get my hands on.”
“I’m sure you do.” Lasham sniffed. “Well, I must be off. You know the arrangements if you want to get in touch with me.” He closed the window, started the engine and pulled away.
Greg Mallinson stayed leaning against his car for a while afterwards, planning his campaign against Sidney Pullman and luxuriating in Lasham’s approval.
- 19 -
Faraday and Paulson were both waiting when Richard Harris came in the next morning. He seemed a little hesitant when he shook their hands but Charlotte was anxious to put him at his ease.
“Have you enjoyed the second week of your holiday more than the first?” she asked.
“I have indeed.” He passed a hand across his forehead. “Although I must say I’m quite exhausted.”
“Is Susannah a demanding lady?”
“You could put it like that.” He grinned. “I think it’s the first time in more than ten years that she’s had a man available for more than a couple of hours.”
Richard had enjoyed a brief affaire a year ago with Cynthia Adams, whose murder Charlotte had been called in to help solve, which she had done the previous week. As a result he had been a suspect and there had been fears that Susannah Blake, a previously successful actress, had been in danger. It now appeared that he might have been the one in danger. *
“My, how you men do suffer,” said Charlotte wryly.
They all laughed at the expression on his face.
“So you’re back off to London tomorrow.”
“I certainly am.”
“And what is Susannah going to do?”
“Well,” he bit his lip. “We’ve decided we ought to have a break from each other to determine what we really want to do in the future. Her husband is coming down next weekend for the first time in a month and she wants to see how she feels spending time with him in the light of what has happened in the last two weeks.”
“Is she proposing to tell him about you?”
“I don’t think so - not at this stage. After all, she had a very comfortable life with him before I came along. The problem was that there was no excitement in it for her. She has my phone number so, after his visit, she can ring me and we can discuss whether we want to make our relationship a permanent one or continue in another way.”
Charlotte smiled. “If you don’t mind my saying so, it sounds as though you prefer the idea of an affaire with the voluptuous Susannah to marriage.”
“Look,” he countered, “Susannah’s a gorgeous woman and I’m sure I would enjoy being married to her. But I have to travel round the world more in my job than her husband does. So in one way she’d be exchanging one semi-lonely existence for another, although I believe I’d come back to spend more time with her than he does.” He raised a hand. “We’ve discussed this openly. The decision is going to be hers.”
“OK, accepted,” said Charlotte. “Sorry to appear to be quizzing you about your private life which is none of my business. The real reason for asking you to come in and talk to us is that we want you to give us some advice on how we should set about the next stage of our enquiries into the death of Alfred de Billiere’s wife, Joanne.”
Paulson came in at this point. “That’s right. We’ve established so far that her death, if not suspicious, certainly needs some explanation.”
He proceeded to give Richard a brief description of what they had found out to date. “Now, we understand that you know nothing about this guy but, if we are to get to the bottom of what happened to this woman about two years ago, I believe we need to find out what Billiere’s financial affairs were like around that time.” He shrugged. “If we can’t find anything suspicious, then we will have to accept that he is innocent. But I’m still more or less certain that someone else was on the Sarah Jane with her when she had the accident that ended up with her death by drowning.”
There was a pause after Stafford’s long speech. It was ended by Harris.
“OK. Well, when you rang me yesterday afternoon, I decided there was still time to ring my office in London and check whether they’d heard of de Billiere. The result is that, although I had never heard the name, my employers, Henstridge and Athelney, certainly have.”
“That’s interesting.” Charlotte recalled that his company was a firm of investigating accountants who were often employed by government departments and other large organisations to look into possible cases of fraud and other financial crimes.
“So who has asked your company to investigate Billiere’s financial dealings?” asked Paulson.
“Er - I don’t know at this stage. I should be able to find out on Monday, but I may not be able to release that information to you at this stage.”
There was a sharp intake of breath from Paulson.
Charlotte knew this withholding of information angered the inspector so she jumped in with the question, “What can you tell us about him?”
“Not a lot until I speak to whoever is doing the investigation. The only thing I’ve gathered so far is that he’s a Hedge Fund Manager.”
“And what’s that exactly?” asked Paulson.
“A hedge fund is a type of investment fund but it doesn’t only put the money into equities and bonds like, for example, most pension funds do. Hedge funds also deal in currencies and commodities such as gold and other precious metals. They are also into the futures market in a big way, buying commodities ahead in expectation of price rises resulting in shortages of supply. Many of their transactions are short-term which can result in encouraging violent swings in prices.”
“I assume normal traders aren’t happy with that.”
“No, but it’s not illegal, providing the funds are properly regulated. However problems can arise in the way the funds are managed. For example the managers can use their own money or investors profits short-term to extract excessive percentages from the fund and move a disproportionate part of the risk onto clients.”
“Is that what Billiere’s been doing?”
Richard shrugged. “I don’t know. I hope to find out more on Monday. In any case, the investigation may only be a suspicion of insider trading. I will let you know as soon as I find out why he’s being investigated.” He shook his head. “However I’m not sure whether it will fit in with the questions you want answered.”
“So we have to wait until some time after Monday.”
“That’s right.” He grinned. “But I was given one bit of information which you may find interesting. Apparently, at the time of her death, Joanne de Billiere was about to start divorce proceedings. Two years ago a lot of Alfred’s assets were in solid form. That means they were tied up in property, shares, bonds, etc which could be easily valued. A divorce then would have cost him a lot of money.”
Charlotte wrinkled her brow. “And hedge funds aren’t solid as you put it.”
“Well, they can be valued, but it takes time. And they’re very fluid. Money’s moving from fund to fund all the time and going into other commodities which are difficult to value and almost impossible to tie down to individual ownership. So at best they’re only likely to be an estimate. It would take years to arrive at a value and then it’s likely to have to be negotiated.”
“Well, there’s a cast iron motive,” said Paulson. “I said all along there was something dodgy about this guy.”
“You did,” agreed Charlotte. “Now all we’ve got to do is find some evidence to support the theory. Hopefully Richard will be able to come up with something useful; next week.”
“At least we can look at the divorce papers. How can we find out who the solicitors are?”
“I can tell you that.” Harris took a piece of paper out of his pocket and consulted it. “It’s a company called Prince and Farmer. Does that mean anything to you?”
“Well, I never.” The inspector seemed to be delighted. “It’s our friend Hugo Farmer again. This case is full of coincidences.” He explained to Richard Harris. “We came across this chap when we were investigating the Cynthia Adams case last week. Among other things he was responsible for drawing up the Adams Trust deed. Also Mariella Prince (one of the other deaths - but one which was satisfactorily explained) was the daughter of his former partner. It’s a small world, isn’t it?”
“It certainly is.” Richard Harris stood up. “Well, that’s all I can tell you for now. Can you let me go? I have a hectic twenty-four hours to get through.” He gave them a roguish grin,
“Thanks a lot, Richard,” said Charlotte. “I’ll see you out.”
But at that moment the phone rang. Paulson picked it up. He looked across at Faraday. “It’s someone called Mrs Makepeace asking for you.”
“Oh, that’s interesting. Her daughter is Tracey’s best friend. I wonder what she wants.”
He handed her the phone. “You talk to her and I’ll see Mr Harris to his car.”
“Thank you.” She took the phone. “Hello, Mrs Makepeace, what can I do for you?”
“Chief Inspector, I have Nina here and you can speak to her if you wish. But I’ll quickly explain what she’s told me.” There was a short pause. “I know Nina’s only twelve but she has the obligatory boyfriend - a nice lad called Terry. Apparently last Monday he was serving a penalty for some minor infringement of ten minutes ‘under the clock’ as they call it at the school.” She proceeded to explain the meaning of the term. “Anyway he’s in a different year to Nina - he’s twelve months older than her. When they were walking home together from school yesterday afternoon she told him about your meeting with her class and the questions you asked to find out about Tracey’s movements and her contacts.”
“That’s right. Very helpful they were too.”
“Oh, good.” There was another short pause. “Well, it appears that Nina mentioned to Terry that you had been interested in a fifth-form girl called Karen Tilt who had approached Tracey on Monday lunch-time. I’m told Karen is thought of as a bit of a siren at the school.”
“Yes. After I’d finished talking to Nina and her friends I had a brief chat with Karen. She told me the chat she had with Tracey was nothing important.”
“I don’t know about that. The thing is that when Terry was ‘under the clock’ he says he saw Karen and Tracey turn up at the entrance to the old building which is just outside where the lads have to stand while they’re doing their punishment. He said that they asked to speak to one of the prefects called Jason Smart who was supervising these miscreants, if I may call them that.”
Charlotte experienced a quickening of the pulse. “That’s very interesting. I suppose young Terry didn’t hear what was said?”
“No. Apparently this Jason Smart took Tracey on her own into a little room just off the hall, which is the Prefects’ Common Room, so he didn’t know what they talked about.”
“Never mind. How long was she in there with Jason?”
The woman broke off to ask her daughter the question. “She doesn’t know but she thinks it was only a few minutes, She says Terry told her that Karen remained in the entrance porch until Tracey came out again and then the two girls went off together.”
“Well, that’s very helpful, Mrs Makepeace. I’m not sure this is linked to Tracey’s disappearance, which was three days later, However there would be no harm in having a chat with young Jason. It may be useful.”
“I thought I should ring you and give you the information, Chief Inspector.”
“Thank you very much. Can I have a word with your daughter? I must have her confirmation that I’ve got the facts right.”
The phone was handed over and Charlotte led Nina through the important facts. At the end she asked the girl, “Do you know whether Karen Tilt and Jason Smart are friendly?”
“Oh, yes,” said Nina. “Everyone knows Jason’s been having it away with Karen.”
“Pardon?”
There was an embarrassed silence at the other end of the phone.
“What do you mean by that, Nina?”
“Well,” said the girl hesitantly. “I don’t really know, but the story is going round at school that Jason and Karen are - you know - more than just good friends.”
“Is that so? Karen’s in the fourth form. What year is Jason in?”
“He’s a prefect. He’s in the upper sixth. But Karen’s very grown up. She knows much more than the rest of us. She tells her friends all about it and they tell us. That’s how we know.”
“I see. Well, thank you very much, Nina. That’s all for now. I’ll speak to you or your boyfriend Terry if I need any more information. Please thank your mother for ringing me. Goodbye.”
She rang off and completed the notes she had made. Then she sat, deep in thought and twiddling her pen in frustration that she’d have to wait until Monday afternoon to be able to interview Jason Smart.
- 20 -
The Bunch of Grapes was still quiet when Greg Mallinson called in at about seven on Sunday evening. He quickly identified Sean Hendon sitting at a table in a corner with a couple of his mates. The sergeant went to the bar and ordered a pint.
Greg surveyed the scene. The bird behind the bar was a bit old and faded now. While she drew his pint he mentally stripped her - seeing the swelling belly when her silk blouse was pulled open, the sagging boobs when the uplift bra was removed, the scrawny buttocks when her skirt was pulled down, the flabby thighs which her fishnet tights couldn’t hold in shape. She might have been all right on the back seat of the car a few years ago but now she was past it.
He admitted to himself that he much preferred that Bostock woman who’d got herself raped last weekend. He reckoned she was begging for it. Now that her husband had got fed up with her having it away with other blokes and had pissed off, he thought she might be easy pickings in a few weeks. He nodded to himself. Let a month pass and perhaps he’d find reasons to make regular visits to the Red Garter and do a bit of chatting up.
The barmaid brought his beer and took his money. She seemed uncomfortable with the way he’d been looking at her. She put the money in the till and brought his change. Then she hurried away to the other end of the bar, anxious to avoid him trying to involve her in conversation.
He didn’t want to anyway. He took his beer to another quiet corner and watched Sean Hendon, waiting for an acknowledgement. Sure enough the tough individual detached himself from his two mates and sauntered to the bar to refill his mug. Then he casually made his way to Greg’s table and seated himself beside the policeman as if to survey the scene.
“What you want with me then?” he asked.
“You remember I let you off last month when I caught you with those three nicked tellys?”
“You’re not going to let me bloody forget it, are you?”
“Don’t worry. I’ve just got a little job for you - should give you a bit of fun and you’ll have the pleasure of knowing you’re serving the community at the same time. What do you think of that?”
Hendon was obviously suspicious. “What is it then?”
“We’ve got a pervert landed on our pitch. The bugger’s just got out early from serving three years for sex with under-age girls.”
“So what’s that to me?” He grimaced. “Let the bloke get ‘is kicks how ‘e wants, I says.”
Mallinson leaned forward. “But now this has got important. A twelve-year-old girl’s gone missing. Her mum’s tearing her hair out and I want to be able to restore her daughter to her.”
“Fancy the mum, do you?” Hendon leered at him.
“Well,” Greg shrugged, “I wouldn’
t mind if she wanted to show her appreciation in some practical way.”
“I bet you wouldn’t.”
The sergeant shook his head. “But forget that. The thing is, I’m sure this pervert’s got the little girl and stashed her away in some hidey-hole nearby. Of course he denies it. And you know how careful we’ve got to be when we question people these days. One little cut or bruise and they scream blue murder.”
“So what do you want me to do?”
“I want you and a couple of your mates to go to his house and drag him out into the street, kick him a few times and hurt him enough to get him to spill the information on where he’s hidden this girl. The bloke’s gutless. It shouldn’t take you more than a few minutes.”
“We can’t just break in without some sort of reason.”
“Get yourself a rent-a-mob to shout and scream abuse and encouragement. Throw a few stones. Break a few windows. Then you go in. I’ll be parked just around the corner in my unmarked car. I’ll come on the scene with the siren going and the blue lights flashing to rescue the bloke when he’s been softened up.”
“And what happens to us?”
“I’ll be so busy helping him up and getting him into my car that you lot can melt away into the surrounding streets. I won’t have enough time to eyeball anybody who was there. I’ll be looking to get Sidney Pullman’s confession out of him on the way to hospital. Hey presto! An hour later I’ll be rescuing the kid and restoring her to her ever-so-grateful mum.”
“Might even have her that night, eh?”
“Well.” Greg grinned. “I’m told her husband’s pissed off. From what I’ve seen she should be easy meat.” He winked at Hendon. “Who knows?”
“What’s this I hear about not interfering with witnesses?”
“I’d have to tell her to keep quiet of course. “Mallinson straightened up. “But forget that. In addition to rescuing the girl, we’d be ridding Torquay of a pervert who’s a potential danger to any young girl walking the streets.”
“Yeah.” Hendon sneered. “We wouldn’t want that, would we?”
“No, we bloody wouldn’t.”
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