by Gwyn GB
Claire wondered if the photographs were a true reflection of their lives, or a showcase of forced moments. It reminded her of her own father and their bitter relationship. She'd managed to put him out of her mind for half an hour, but the nagging worry about the damage he could cause her came back. Sometimes she wondered if he loved her, other times she wondered if he even liked her at all.
29
Young Claire, age 15, 2000, Jersey
'Go on, I want you to try it,' Philip Falle waved a plate of oysters underneath his daughter's nose.
'I don't like them, I really don't want any thank you,' Claire replied, her lips tight firm as though she worried he was going to try and shove one in her mouth.
'Aw little Claire won't try something new because she's such a baby. How are you ever going to grow up and experience life if you don't try new things?'
'I do try new things dad. I just know I don't like oysters.'
They had come from a friend of his who'd helped one of the oyster farms out. He'd been given a bag load of them as a thank you, too many for him to eat and so he'd shared them with Claire's dad.
'If you taste one I'll let you off your chores for a week,' her dad kept trying.
Claire seemed to have inherited his pig headedness because there was going to be no persuading her. He could promise no chores for a year and she was still not going to give in. Anyway, he'd just deny he ever said that after she'd eaten it.
'I don't like them,' she repeated again through gritted teeth.
'Why don't you drop it Philip?' her mum joined in now, 'if she doesn't want one what's the point, you might as well enjoy them yourself.'
'Because I want her to try one. She shouldn't be scared of trying new things.'
'I am not scared of trying new things, I have had one before and I didn't like it,' Claire matched his glare.
'When? When did you try one?' he asked
'Last year on our French trip,' she replied triumphantly. 'We stopped off at a French market and we tried oysters, snails and goats cheese. They were all disgusting.'
Her father shook his head.
'You don't know what you're missing,' he said, tipping a shell into his mouth.
Claire watched as the grey and white mass slipped off the shell, making her top lip involuntarily curl up in disgust.
'No sense of adventure,' he said to her dismissively, as though her refusal was a personal slight to him and his authority.
Claire was past caring, she was at the age when she wanted to spend as little time as possible around her parents. Her dad's controlling ways and her mum's submissive personality repelled her. It had also given her an incentive at school because she'd made up her mind she wasn’t staying in Jersey. She wanted off the rock, to get away from her dad, get away from this boring island and go somewhere exciting.
Five years ago the first female Chief Constable had been appointed in the UK and last year they'd dropped the 'woman' from female police officer ranks, much to her dad's disgust. He still felt female police officers needed to be treated differently and couldn't do the same job as a man. Claire saw equality arriving in the UK and had set her sights on joining the CID in London.
The constant bombardment from her father over the years could have gone two ways, she'd either have ended up like her mother, or it could have made her stronger. Claire chose the latter option. If her father wanted her to be more like a boy then she'd be tough like one. It may still not improve their relationship but at least she'd survive.
30
Claire, Friday 10th November 2017, Jersey
Claire's next interview appointment was with Suzette Major who turned out to be the brains of the committee. She ran her own online retail business from the comfort of her stunning hand crafted kitchen in St Saviour. When Claire arrived she closed her office by sweeping aside her MacBook Air and inviting her to sit down.
'I do apologise for the mess,' she added, waving her hand at the various paperwork that accompanied her laptop.
'I assure you that you don't need to worry on my account,' Claire replied. 'I won't keep you long, just a few questions about last Tuesday when you were at Melanie Parkin's for the ball committee meeting.'
'Oh God! Don't tell me one of them has broken a finger nail!' she giggled, good naturedly. 'They're a great bunch, such fun, but they haven't got a business bone in their bodies. Most of our committee meetings revolve around Champagne - or coffee if it's too early. Although I must admit I don't complain.' Suzette smiled and shook her head to loosen long chestnut waves of hair from her shoulders.
Claire smiled back, warming to Suzette. 'I'm trying to find out who might possibly have called a man called Terry Morgan last Tuesday. We know someone from the Parkin household called him at just before ten am.'
'Not me, at least not that I'm aware of. Who is he?'
'He's a stockbroker.'
Suzette slowly shook her head, thinking. 'Nope can't see any reason why any of us would have called him on committee business.'
'Could one of the others have rung him?'
'I honestly don't think so. Are you sure it wasn't James? Sounds more like something he'd have done.'
'We believe James was out the house at work.'
'He was for most of the time, but he did pop back around then.'
Claire's heart jumped, had anyone checked out his alibi yet? 'Oh right, do you know what time?' she said, trying to sound as matter of fact as possible.
'It was about ten-ish. Couldn't say for sure exactly, and he didn't come in to see us, just saw his car arrive and then heard a door slam and saw the car drive off again. I assumed he'd forgotten something.'
Suzette's revelation had Claire on the phone to the team as soon as she was back in the car. Checking James's alibi had been on their 'To Do' list, but it hadn't been done yet. She told them to make it top priority and headed back to the station.
By the time she got there, they'd received confirmation from James's secretary that the meeting had indeed started at 8am, but there was also a break as the clients had to attend a global video conference at ten am. While they were busy, James said he was going to pop home to pick up a clean shirt as he'd managed to spill coffee on the one he had on. It gave him that window of opportunity to make the phone call to Terry.
The news seemed to spur the team on, there was a renewed energy as they hunted through the financials trying to find some link, some evidence that would prove James Parkin was their man.
Claire found Bob in surprisingly good spirits. He looked out of place in this brand new police station, far removed from the mess and moderate decay of their London offices, which groaned under the weight of decades of alterations and quick fix maintenance.
'I've never been before, pretty island isn't it?' Bob said to her as she tracked him down to the little canteen. He was stood staring out over the rooftops towards the sea.
'Yes it's easy to get blasé about that view and forget what a beautiful place this is to live. Just wasn't overly exciting when I was in my teens.'
'Nowhere ever is, is it?' Bob replied, still not taking his eyes away from the window. 'Any more news?' He switched back into work mode.
'Nothing more from the team here, but FCU are working flat out. Are you thinking about pulling James in to ask about the visit home? He'd told me he was at the office, never mentioned he'd popped back at the time the call was made.'
Bob shook his head. 'Let's sit on it. If we question him again on that he'll just employ a hot shot lawyer and completely shut down. At least this way, with surveillance, we have a chance of catching him out.'
Claire knew Bob was right.
'Good to see you keeping focused,' Bob added.
She looked up at him to see him studying her.
'Yeah, I am. Things are good,' she nodded, hoping it was convincing because inside her guts twisted. Perhaps when she went back to London she should go and see someone, talk through what she was feeling, what she thought she had seen. There was no shame
in it, lots of officers got some kind of post-traumatic stress from the job. Last year she was drugged and could have been killed. That's bound to have an impact, right? Her childhood was also bound to come up in the conversation, don't they say most of our adult hang-ups come from something that happened when we were kids? Seeing your brother get killed and having to deal with the fall-out from your parents, that's got to have some impact on how she manages relationships and deals with stress.
'Right, well let's get back to it,' Bob said, grabbing the packet of cheese and onion crisps and Jaffa Cakes which were his usual guilty pleasures. 'Apparently there's some new leads come in from the guys in London who have been looking at David Lyle's work computer.'
The new leads turned out to be potentially confusing for their investigation. David Lyle had been looking at various different stock transactions and stockbrokers, gathering some kind of data which was showing him a pattern. Mapped in a spreadsheet were a host of individual and company names which appeared to have nothing to do with James Parkin or Ludder and White.
'It's essential our enquiry doesn't get de-railed by the FCU one here. It could be a complete coincidence about James Parkin and Terry. He may have nothing to do with whatever else Terry might have been involved in which is what got him and David killed. Let them deal with James until we can see a clear link, we have to keep on digging.'
Claire agreed with Bob. 'I'm still not convinced about James being our man. Even if he's guilty of the insider trading, it doesn't mean he's also a killer.'
'Nope, financial crime is one thing, ordering a hit on two men is a completely different ball game,'
They called London for an update to see how the investigation into Pizza man was going. The team had traced his movements backwards from Weymouth, ploughing through hundreds of hours of CCTV. They were pretty sure that they'd tracked the vehicle he'd been using and now Lew and the team were at an address in London with forensics, searching for evidence. The vehicle had been found abandoned in Weymouth and was currently on the back of a truck heading up to London. If they could confirm pizza man's identity and trace the boat, they could inform Interpol. The net was tightening.
Claire had two more of the ball committee to interview, Anna Scott and Jane Carter. She was seeing Jane tomorrow, but Anna said she could make it that afternoon after the school run. She was only ten minutes out of St Helier.
Claire got there right on schedule and found Anna was just disgorging three young children from her white Porsche 4x4. The smallest of the three was howling and giving an excellent impression of an angry banshee, screeching at her mother and throwing whatever came to hand onto the gravelled drive. Claire estimated the wild banshee was about three or four years old.
'I'm so sorry,' Anna said to her, 'I'm running behind. It took me fifteen minutes to get her back in the car once we'd picked up her brothers. She just wasn't having it. Will you stop Phoebe! I am going into the house now and you can stay out here if you want, but I'm going in to give Alex and Sam some milk and cookies.'
With that Anna walked off towards the open front door. Claire took that as her cue to follow. Behind them the small child managed to go up yet another octave in her crying, but the second they both disappeared into the house, she went quiet.
Claire found herself in a large entrance hall with the traditional black and white tiles on the floor. It was obvious young children lived here because small coats and wellies were flung on the floor by the door.
'Sorry about that, she can be such a madam. Don't worry she'll appear inside in a few seconds. There's no way she'll miss out if she thinks her brothers are getting something nice.'
Claire had just enough time to take in the interior of their house, before some sniffing behind her heralded Phoebe's arrival.
'Go on into the sitting room,' Anna said to her, 'I'll just get these three some milk and a cookie each and stick the TV on, then we'll have some peace and quiet.'
Studio portraits of the children mingled with modern art on the walls. A huge three sided sofa made up most of the sitting area, with a small bar off to the right and Claire could see into a sleek dining area in a room off to the left. It was from that direction Anna joined her, so presumably it led into the kitchen.
'They're sorted,' she said. 'What was it you wanted to ask me?'
'I just needed to know if you remember calling someone last Tuesday at your ball committee meeting, and if you can perhaps tell me who was there that morning?'
Anna flopped down onto the sofa, 'Yes of course, it was me, Melanie, Suze, Debs and Jane.'
'Did you see James at all?'
'Not really. I think he came back to the house at some point, but he left quite soon after and he didn't say hello. My husband saw him later on, he had some important clients over and they were out for dinner.'
'Does your husband work at Ludder and White?' Claire asked, knowing that one of the reasons why James was in the frame was because much of the leaked information had links to his firm.
'No, he's at Nelson Bank in corporate acquisitions. Still all revolves around money,' she smiled.
'Did you by any chance make a phone call last Tuesday to Terry Morgan?'
Anna pulled her mouth together and thought hard, 'No, never heard of him. I don't really think any of us made phone calls apart from Melanie ringing up the marquee company on her mobile and I think Jane rang up about the wine. Who is Terry Morgan?'
At that moment, a shriek made its way from a couple of rooms away and three young voices all started shouting.
'Oh God what now!' Anna said jumping up. 'I'm sorry.'
'It's OK,' Claire replied, 'you go and I'll let myself out. That's all I needed, thank you.'
Her next appointment was with the friends of David and Alice Lyle. It turned out that Ed and Pauline Thompson lived just a few doors away from where the Lyles house had been. While it might be yet another conversation about quiet neighbours who kept themselves to themselves, the Facebook photos indicated she might be in for a better result.
David and Alice Lyle's former house was in a quiet cul-de-sac in St Saviour. They had rented the property and it already had new tenants. Across the way lived Ed and Pauline Thompson. It had taken a few days to manage an appointment that was convenient for them both, but today was the day and Claire didn't want to miss it.
The house gave the impression of an independent young professional couple without kids. Two relatively new cars were on the driveway, and the garage door was open showing a double kayak and bikes.
The door was answered by a petite, dark haired woman, she looked like she was Portuguese or Madeiran in origin, just like a chunk of Jersey's population. Behind her a young man, with blond hair and school boy features, came to join them.
'Hi, DI Falle, I called a couple of days ago.'
'Yes, come in. We were devastated to hear about David,' Pauline said.
'Absolutely gutted,' Ed added, 'he was a good bloke.'
They led her into their sitting room, all newly decorated with the kinds of lamps, cushions and ornaments you see in the Next or M & S catalogues.
'How long have you lived here?' Claire asked.
'About two years, David and Alice were already living across the close when we arrived.' Ed led the talking.
'How well did you know them?' Claire questioned.
'Pretty well, we used to meet up probably once every couple of weeks in the summer, especially. Take the kayaks out, have a beach barbecue. We missed them when they moved to London. David messaged me to say he might be coming over this month and could he stay with us. I was looking forward to catching up with him. Why would anyone want to kill him?' Ed looked upset and Pauline reached out to hold his hand. The pair of them were sitting on the sofa which was at right angles to the chair where Claire had perched herself.
'I'm sorry, I know it's upsetting, but we are trying to put together a picture of David's life here, try to work out why this has happened.'
Ed and Pauline nodded.
'A few months before they left we had a barbecue here,' Ed said, 'Lots of beers and wine and David and I ended up pretty smashed sitting in the garden. The girls went inside because they said it was cold and the mosquitos were out.'
Beside him Pauline nodded.
'He started telling me something, asked me never to repeat it to Alice - or Pauline,' Ed looked apologetically at his wife, 'said he'd discovered something and I got the impression he was quite chuffed with himself. I can't remember it all because I'm sorry we were both too bladdered, but it was to do with a client whose accounts he worked on. He'd noticed patterns in transactions, mentioned something about a woman and fake accounts. I can't remember her name, but it began with M and was unusual. Said he'd traced these transactions and she was at the centre of some network. She had access to information and was making a lot of money. He intimated that it was illegal and that he was thinking about what to do with what he knew.'
'Was he sure it was a woman?'
'Yes.'
'Did he ever mention what client it was?'
Ed shook his head, 'Nope he was pissed, but not completely indiscreet and after that I think he probably regretted ever saying anything to me because he never mentioned it again and we didn't see as much of them. Could that be what got him killed?' Ed shook his head in despair, 'If only I'd said something, maybe persuaded him not to do anything stupid.'
'We can't be sure what it is yet,' Claire reassured him, 'And he may not have listened to you anyway. When David asked if he could stay with you, did he mention why he was coming over?'
'Just said to tie up some business.'
'Is there anything else you can remember that he said that night or afterwards?'
