Cherringham--Too Many Lies

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Cherringham--Too Many Lies Page 7

by Matthew Costello


  The man looked up and down the street, as if checking whether Natalie had been noticed. The curtain shut again.

  Jack turned to Sarah, who sat looking confused.

  “I guess from your point of view, it’s hard to figure whether that’s good news … or bad news,” he said.

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Okay. Let me see,” said Jack. “First — if Chloe is having a fling with Syms — then she’s being two-timed. And if she’s not — but wants to — then should she know about Syms’s overnight visitor? Make sense? And third — if Chloe’s not here, where is she?”

  “That’s exactly what worries me.”

  Jack turned on the engine, pulled out and headed off up the High Street.

  “Well, if it’s any help — I’m guessing — after whatever you two, um, discussed last night, she’s staying with a friend. Many a night my daughter did exactly the same thing. Bit of cooling off, you know? And on any other day, you wouldn’t be bothered by that.”

  “So — let it lie? That what you’re suggesting?”

  “Yes,” said Jack. “That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.”

  He drove on, past the Village Hall and up the High Street, shops and cafés not yet open.

  “Guess you’re right, Jack,” said Sarah. “But it’s not easy.”

  He laughed. “Oh yeah, tell me about it,” he said, pulling out onto the Gloucester road. “Been there.”

  He reached across and turned the radio on, just as a Mozart piano concerto began, the music tremendously soothing in the early fall light as they drove out of the village.

  “Now — shifting gears, so to speak — why don’t you get me up to speed with what you found online.”

  *

  Jack turned off the main road and headed down the lane that led to the Airfield Industrial Estate.

  “So — Callum and his father are fighting each other for control of the company, hmm?” he said.

  “Looks like it.”

  “You talk to your dad about that?”

  “I did. He was very surprised. And a bit alarmed too.”

  “I bet he was,” said Jack. “Don’t suppose he happened to say which Ross the council has been dealing with?” said Jack.

  “Ted. Why?”

  “Just trying to get the shape of this. Who’s really running the operation and all that. What else did Michael say? Anything about Hayes?”

  “Only that he and some of the council members were surprised Hayes was the named builder.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Apparently Hayes doesn’t have much of a rep around Cherringham. Or rather, his reputation is none too good. His business on the ropes. And he’s got zero experience of this kind of build. Knocks up cheap housing usually — and badly at that.”

  “Interesting,” said Jack. “Why would Ross Leisure go with him? And how about Syms — you get anything on him?”

  “Afraid I ran out of time,” said Sarah. “I’ll try and grab a minute when I’m back in the office.”

  “Sure,” said Jack, pulling up at the entrance to the Industrial Estate. “Though I have to wonder why Syms kept quiet about his previous with Ross?”

  Sarah nodded, then inspected the massive sign by the gates that listed all the companies based inside.

  “There we go — Hayes Construction,” she said. “Looks like it’s right at the far end of the estate.”

  As they drove on, Sarah looked at Jack, relaxed at the wheel, tapping his fingers to the music.

  “I do like the new wheels, Jack, I must say.”

  “The MG’s not that new.”

  “Great sound system too.”

  “Yup. Put that in myself. Good, hmm?”

  “Makes me think I need an upgrade.” She thought of her tattered and faded Rav-4. “My car, kind of a mum’s car? And it appears those days are over.”

  “Ha. I wouldn’t bet on it,” said Jack. “Just you wait till Daniel comes home from his travels. And in times of crisis, you know who your kids — even as adults — call.”

  Jack pulled up at the end of a long building — some kind of converted hangar. Big roller-shutters next to a door that must lead to offices above. The car park had plenty of spaces, but only a lone Subaru pick-up was parked out front, the paintwork scratched and dull.

  Sarah climbed out — while Jack killed the ignition. To the side of the hangar, Sarah could see a yard, tall-fenced with barbed wire on top. Behind it, stacks of building materials, a fuel pump, a line of diggers and other vehicles.

  But the whole place — deserted.

  “Eight-thirty,” she said. “Construction outfit? You’d expect it to be buzzing.”

  “Yup. Thinking just the same,” said Jack. “Come on.”

  *

  Jack stood with Sarah at the door that said “Tom Hayes — General Construction”.

  Seems doubtful that a busy operation sits on the other side of that door, he thought.

  Still, Jack guessed that Hayes would be working with a lot of other companies, trying to keep the whole operation on time and on budget.

  This was maybe just a central office.

  He looked at Sarah, raised his eyebrows, and turned the door knob.

  Which didn’t turn.

  “Guess we should have called ahead,” Jack said.

  “Maybe.” Sarah responded by rapping on the door hard, since no buzzer button could be seen.

  Quiet, then the sound of someone clearing their throat, steps, and the door was opened by none other than Tom Hayes himself.

  11. Builders’ Tea

  Hayes made them both a mug of tea, took them across the empty office to his desk, and explained that his secretary was home with a sick daughter.

  He gestured at the nearby empty desks. “Everyone else is out on site.”

  The tone … apologetic.

  Sarah nodded. Hayes had the expression of someone who was perpetually worried about something.

  Jack had told Hayes that the council had asked them to drop in and see what Hayes thought about the attack on Syms, and the battle for the future of the Village Hall.

  Hayes sniffed. Nursing a cold?

  Or is he a little under the weather for other reasons? thought Sarah.

  “Tom,” Sarah started, putting her tea down, “the other night …”

  “Bad stuff, I tell ya. Bad for business too. God! What stupid people do …”

  “Like Syms?” she asked.

  Despite the sleepiness in Tom’s eyes, he showed a flicker of concern at that question.

  “Look now, the two of yers, don’t get me wrong, I think that bloke is a menace. Decent person like myself … trying to run a business … times like these … and what does he do for a living? Destroy things!”

  Hayes looked from Sarah to Jack expectantly, as if they might nod in agreement. “I mean, that’s what he does, isn’t it?”

  “Lot of people,” Sarah said, “don’t want the new hotel.”

  “And others do! Up to them what they want.”

  “You hear about the threat yesterday, Tom?” said Jack.

  Sarah watched Hayes carefully. Did he know?

  “Threat?” said Tom, his eyes flicking from Jack to Sarah and back.

  “Someone left a note for Syms, telling him to back off — or else,” said Sarah.

  Tom shrugged: “So?”

  “Um — you wouldn’t know anything about that?” said Jack.

  “What? Hell no. Got nothin’ to do with me. But whoever wrote it, I’m right behind them.”

  “You’ve seen the plans, isn’t that right, Tom?”

  Hayes looked straight at Jack.

  “Course, I have. I’m the bloody builder, aren’t I? Got them from the architect, put all the quotes together, I did. Spec-ed it all out. Got all the other companies to submit bids, direct to me, then on to Mr Ross.”

  Sarah wasn’t at all sure where this was headed.

  “Keeping all those features the villagers love, hmm?” said Jac
k. “The columns out front. That staircase, the wood of the meeting room. Even the façade?”

  Sarah was sure she saw Hayes gulp.

  Jack’s definitely hit on something here.

  Tom Hayes shifted in his seat.

  “Yes. Er, all sorted. All costed out, properly filed too. Ready to go, soon as the council gets off their arses and votes ‘yes’.”

  “Tricky job, I guess?” said Jack.

  “Eh?” said Tom.

  “Not your usual line. Gather you got more of a reputation for new builds?”

  “That’s right,” said Tom, looking nervously from Jack to Sarah.

  “Village Hall — quite a challenge, then?” said Jack.

  “Dunno about that. Got specialists lined up. You know — for the special, tricky stuff.”

  “Special stuff,” said Jack, nodding. “Gotcha.”

  She saw Jack drain his mug of tea, put it on the desk, and look around the forlorn office.

  “Guessing you could use that work ASAP,” said Jack with a smile, that Sarah guessed must have stung Hayes.

  Jack, without having any backup information now had Hayes seeming cornered by what sounded like his own lies.

  So, Sarah gave it her own shot.

  “Tom, you said the plans were all costed out, special sub-contractors ready to get to work. Sent to Mr Ross, right?”

  At this point the builder seemed to be thinking the best way forward was to say absolutely nothing.

  “You mean Ted Ross?” She paused, creating a bit of a theatrical moment. “Or Callum Ross?”

  Hayes now looked like he wanted them gone as fast as possible.

  “Well, the building plans, you see … but also with all the money needed … the estimates you know … lots of expenses, the timeline, the costs, and so—”

  Sarah interrupted his rambling.

  “So the plans … did they go to Callum Ross?”

  Hayes quickly confirmed it.

  “Yes, he said it’d be best, y’know, to keep lines of communication with him.”

  “Makes sense,” said Jack. “His dad had way too much on his plate to get bogged down in the detail, hmm?”

  “Sure. That’s what Callum said. Exactly what Callum said.”

  “Back home, construction guys I knew always put a second set of plans together. A backup. No frills, bottom line. A plan with none of the fancy stuff — just get in, get out, bare bones. You know … just in case.”

  “Makes sense,” said Tom, seeming more at ease with this construction chat.

  “You do that too?” said Jack.

  “N-not always,” said Tom. “But good to know your bottom line. Have different options.”

  “Sure. So, did you do that with the Village Hall plans?”

  Another pause — the trap snapping shut.

  “Er, sure,” said Tom. “Fact, Mr Ross—”

  “Callum?” said Jack.

  “Yeah, Callum — he definitely wanted that.”

  “Must have been a ton of extra paperwork?” said Jack.

  “Tell me about it!” said Tom. “But, without all the specialist guys in the budget, the backup plans sure brought the price down.”

  “I bet they did,” said Jack, glancing at Sarah, then back at Tom.

  Sarah was impressed.

  “Tom, thanks for your time. Great chatting with you.”

  “Any time.”

  Sarah wondered if Hayes knew what he had just revealed?

  Based on his relieved smile, that was doubtful.

  “Oh — one last thing. We’re just, you know, looking into who could have attacked Ralph Syms. Who had a reason to hurt him. So if you hear anything let us know, won’t you?”

  “Like I said, I had no—”

  “Right. We know. You had absolutely nothing to do with it. We get that.”

  As they both headed out of the deserted office, Jack said — in earnest, Sarah thought — “Good luck with your business.”

  *

  Once outside, Jack took a deep breath.

  Sarah was clearly waiting for his summary of their bumpy but informative chat with Tom Hayes.

  “Whatcha think, detective?” she said.

  “Well, Tom Hayes. I mean … what a zhlub.”

  “Sorry. Zhlub?”

  Jack laughed. “Oh, like a sad sack, hapless, bit of a loser. It’s Yiddish. Lot of zhlubs on the streets of Brooklyn!”

  “Thank you for expanding my vocabulary.”

  Another laugh. “Doubt you can use it over here. Oh wait — I just did. So, first off, Tom — I’m thinking — knows zero about the attack on Syms.”

  “Agreed.”

  “But the note? He didn’t look too surprised about that.”

  “True,” said Sarah. “Though — place like Cherringham — news gets around.”

  “Maybe” said Jack. “And boy — that bit about the plans going to Callum? Interesting.”

  “Very,” said Sarah.

  “But I think he still didn’t tell all. Think maybe the future of his company depends on him not revealing everything.”

  “Such as, what exactly Callum Ross intends to do with the second set of plans and—?”

  “And what the father knows,” said Jack. “Or doesn’t know.”

  “Which means?”

  “Ah, you see, for any theories on that, and how, or if, it connects to the threats on Syms, best I take a long walk with Riley. Think things through.”

  “Beautiful day for it. As for me … I want to find out just why Syms lied to us about his connection to Ross Leisure.”

  “Right. Doesn’t make sense, does it?” said Jack. “You’d think he’d be the first person to pin the attack on them.”

  “True,” said Sarah. “This case … Usually I have one little thread to follow, to try and unravel whatever secret we’re chasing.”

  “But this time, you have a plethora?”

  “See! There’s a word I know.”

  “So many threads.”

  “And all I’ve got to do is to find where they intersect.”

  “If they intersect,” Jack said.

  “My instinct? They will.”

  “Don’t forget our Natalie sighting. Who knows, hmm?”

  “Who knows, indeed. I wonder — what’s Syms up to there? How long’s that been going on? How did they even meet? Seems like a risky move, dallying with the wife of the council leader?”

  “Exactly. Lot of questions,” said Jack, as they walked over to the MG. “I’m not sure the internet’s going to give you answers.”

  “Oh I don’t need the internet,” said Sarah, opening the car door and getting in. “I’ve got Grace — remember?”

  “The eyes and ears of Cherringham!” said Jack, getting into his car and laughing. “You’re sure going to miss her.”

  “Oh, I will. How about — we rendezvous at the Spotted Pig at cocktail hour? You were going to buy me dinner, no?”

  “Seem to remember suggesting the notion. Did I say ‘buying’?”

  “Just kidding. When did we never go Dutch?”

  “Ha, sounds great,” said Jack, starting the engine and turning the car around.

  “Anything else on your to-do list for today?”

  “After dog walk. Why, I think I might drop in on the Colemans.”

  “Natalie Coleman,” said Sarah, smiling. “She is an attractive woman.”

  “Think so? Hadn’t noticed myself,” said Jack, grinning, not turning to her as they drove out of the industrial estate towards the main road.

  “Seriously — you think we’ve missed something there?” said Sarah. She paused, wondering. “Hang on. The money? That what you’re thinking? Of course! Who’s funding Syms?”

  “Precisely.”

  “We figure that out — we might find another motive.”

  “Dead right, partner. And you know — there just might be another reason why Mrs Coleman was emerging from Syms’s office early this morning.”

  “Handing over more c
ash?”

  “Can’t rule it out. Less an assignation. More about paying the bills.”

  “But why would she do that? The husband knows … or?”

  “See — there you go — an excellent question. I’ll do my best to get some answers while you dig into Syms.”

  They drove in silence for a while, Sarah aware of Jack thinking.

  “Something else?” Sarah said

  “Yeah. Just that — with the council vote tomorrow — all these secrets that we are chasing …”

  “Yes?”

  “We need them to be revealed before then. Before the vote. And not just for the sake of the Village Hall.”

  And with that, Jack took the turning into the High Street, his last words reminding her …

  This impending vote could be a serious, dangerous bit of business.

  Not least with Chloe deeply involved with one side.

  12. A Trip to Repton

  Jack had only just finished his walk with Riley, and was filling the dog’s water bowl, when Sarah phoned.

  He stood on the deck of The Grey Goose, watching a lone oarsman row past, heading downstream on the slickly moving river.

  “Sarah.”

  “Jack. Just been talking to Grace — about Syms.”

  “Let me guess — she’s solved the case?”

  He heard Sarah laugh: “Give her time, I’m sure she could. But listen, what she said might help us out.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Okay. So, I asked her if she had any gossip on our friend Syms. Turns out a pal of hers works up at Repton Hall — in the gym. And that’s where Syms stayed just before he moved into the village.”

  “Wow — the hall? That place isn’t cheap. Couple of weeks there’d set you back thousands.”

  “Exactly. But that’s not all. Seems when he checked out there was some kind of fuss about the bill, about all the extras, and who was paying. A real row. It all got settled in the end — but it had me thinking—”

  “Somebody up at the hall might remember the details, hmm?”

  “I’m sure of it,” said Sarah. “You think it might be worth calling Lady Repton, see if she can help?”

  Jack took a second. He and Sarah had helped out Lady Repton on more than one occasion, and though she could be as aloof as hell, he knew the aged aristo had a soft spot for them.

 

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