Looking For A Reason (#4 - D.I. Paolo Storey Crime Series)

by Frances di Plino

  “Is he bothering you?”

  She laughed. “No one bothers me, Paolo. Anyone gives me grief, I know how to deal with them.”

  Recalling his earlier words to Dave, Paolo imagined the slightly built woman felling the swimming coach with one blow. Derrick Walden wouldn’t enjoy that experience.

  “Are you here to lock up bloody Clementine Towers?” she said, grinning at him. “You’re too late; she left an hour ago. It would make my day if that lunatic was shut away somewhere.”

  “Why, what’s she done?”

  April laughed. “Nothing really, apart from try to tell everyone here what they are doing wrong and how she could do it better. That’s why Derrick was up here. Clementine doesn’t feel he should be teaching the girls. Says it’s inappropriate for a man to see them in their costumes and that there should be segregation in the pool. Did you know she’s put her name down on the volunteers list for everything you can think of, from working in the canteen to washing floors? No matter where I go, I bump into her. Some people think she’s the best thing that ever happened to the centre, but I think she’s a nosy interfering busybody with nothing better to do with her time!”

  Paolo grinned back. “I’ve met her. You’re not a fan?”

  “Fan? I’d drown her in the swimming pool if I thought I could get away with it. Okay, so you and this gorgeous hunk haven’t come to arrest our crazy lady. How can I help you?”

  “We’re just following up on everyone who had access to the plaque after it was put in place, April.”

  She grinned. “Oooh, can I be a suspect? Can this nice young man take me down to the station and force the truth out of me?”

  Paolo laughed as a crimson tide flooded Dave’s cheeks. Who’d have believed the misogynist who’d first come to work with him would be hiding a shy and easily discomfited man?

  “Nice young man? Have you two never met?”

  She shook her head. “I would never forget that face and body,” she said, making a great show of looking Dave up and down.

  “Behave yourself, April. That’s sexual harassment and if someone spoke to you like that you’d be understandably angry. Besides, you’re embarrassing the poor man. This is Detective Sergeant Dave Johnson. Dave, this woman winding you up is April Greychurch. Right, now that’s out of the way, what can you tell us about the two days leading up to the unveiling?”

  The laughter stopped and she frowned. Paolo was pleased to see she took the question seriously.

  “Other than the list I prepared and dropped off at the station, not very much, I’m afraid. I put down all the names I could think of where people had been left on their own for short periods of time.”

  “A couple of them seemed a bit out of place here: Fletcher Simpson and George Baron. Any idea what either of them were doing here?”

  She shook her head. “Not a clue. I didn’t see Baron myself. His name was given to me by someone and I just added it to my list.”

  “Can you remember who told you about him?”

  She shrugged. “Not really. I went round asking everyone and wrote the names down as I went. I can find out for you if it’s important.”

  “No, don’t worry at the moment. If it turns out we need to know, I’ll come back again. What about Fletcher Simpson?”

  “I put his name down. I spotted his back as he was going out through the doors.”

  “But you don’t know who he’d been to see or why he was here?”

  “As I said earlier, I haven’t a clue. By the way, have you been able to match the lipstick?” April asked.

  Paolo shook his head. “It’s being tested at the moment, but I don’t hold out much hope on that score. I doubt the lab results will show anything other than a standard easy to purchase brand.”

  “Hmm,” she said. “I have a horrible feeling it might be mine.”

  “Did you do it?” Paolo asked.

  She laughed. “No, don’t be daft. The thing is, I dropped my handbag near the plaque a couple of days ago and one of my lipsticks is missing. I have a feeling it must have rolled and I didn’t spot it when I picked everything up.”

  “Didn’t you need it?” Dave asked.

  April grinned. “You think we ladies only carry one lipstick. One colour fits all occasions? I didn’t want to use that shade until this morning and noticed it was gone. I’m not saying it was my lipstick that was used, but it could have been.”

  Paolo tried to decide if she was telling the truth, or covering her tracks, but her face gave nothing away.

  “Tell me, April, have you noticed anything odd about Arbnor? Does he seem to be acting strange to you?”

  She shrugged. “Not so that I’d noticed. What do you mean by strange? You think he might have picked up the lipstick and got artistic with it?”

  “No, nothing like that. We bumped into him coming out of one of the rooms along the hallway and he–”

  “Which room?” she asked. “There’s no reason for him to be up here at all. He takes care of the centre downstairs, but up here it’s just offices and storerooms.”

  “Maybe he needed some supplies,” Dave suggested.

  April shook her head and stood up. “There’s only office equipment, not cleaning supplies. Would you mind showing me which room it was?”

  They walked back and Paolo pointed to the door Arbnor had come through. April opened it, but the room was empty apart from a desk adjacent to a day couch against one wall and a locked medical cabinet against the opposite wall.

  “This is our sickroom,” April said. “He shouldn’t have been in here, but maybe he’d been having a sneaky nap and you surprised him.”

  Paolo smiled. “Could be,” he said, but didn’t believe it. If anything, Arbnor had been wide awake and sweating a little.

  “Who has the keys to the cabinet?” he asked.

  April pulled a string from round her neck, showing a bunch of keys. “I keep control of the medical supplies. Even the sports instructors have to come to me if they want anything from that cabinet.”

  Paolo nodded. “As you say, he was probably taking a nap.”

  “Was there anything else, Paolo?”

  “Yes, is Montague around? I’d like a word with him.”

  April shook her head. “He’s out for the afternoon. No idea where. He didn’t tell me.” She put her head on one side, as if considering whether to speak. Then nodded. “Paolo, I honestly don’t know who defaced the plaque, but…”

  “But?” Paolo prompted when it became clear she wasn’t going to finish her sentence.

  “But I think there might be some truth in the accusation.”

  “Really? What makes you say that?”

  She shrugged. “A couple of times I didn’t think the numbers added up and mentioned it to Montague. He said to leave things for him to look into and on both occasions he found the error and put it right. The first time it happened I didn’t think anything of it, but the second time he acted weird.”

  “Weird in what way?”

  “I don’t know how to explain it. He was jumpy and raised his voice when he said he’d deal with it. I definitely got the impression he’d rather I hadn’t picked up on the error.”

  “Why didn’t you raise this before?” Paolo asked. “I’ve been here often enough.”

  “Because it was only after the business with the plaque that it hit me how Montague had acted. Look, there’s probably nothing in it and I imagined things that weren’t there.”

  Paolo smiled. “Possibly, but financial crimes are going to look into the funding records. If there’s anything even remotely dodgy, they will find it.”

  They said goodbye to April and made their way back down to the pool area. Derrick Walden showed them into his office. It was a tiny space, but in the short time he’d been there Derrick had made it his own. A couple of Chelsea scarves were pinned to the wall above his desk and photos of teams through the ages filled every available wall space.

  “We don’t get many Chelsea fans round h
ere,” Paolo said, pointing to the memorabilia. “Like most places, we’ve got plenty on Man U fans that have never set foot anywhere near Manchester, but not many who support London clubs.”

  Derrick smiled. “I was born in London. Lived in lots of places over the years, but Chelsea’s my team. Always has been, always will be. I believe in loyalty. Will this take long? I’ve got a lesson in half an hour.”

  Paolo sat on one of the hard wooden seats opposite Derrick’s desk and Dave took the other.

  “We won’t take up much of your time. We’re just following up on everyone who was here during the time between the plaque being covered and the unveiling ceremony. Did you see or hear anything that might now seem odd, even if it didn’t at the time?”

  Derrick shook his head. “Nothing I can recall, but most of the time I was down here, getting ready for the centre to open, planning my sessions and so on.”

  “Forgive me,” Paolo said, “but I have to ask. Did you deface the plaque, perhaps as a joke?”

  “You must be joking! I’d never do anything to damage that man’s reputation. If it wasn’t for him, this place would still be a rundown dump and I wouldn’t have this job. No way would I ever…bloody hell, I can’t believe… I thought you wanted to know if I’d seen anything, now you’re accusing me of doing it. Was it her? Did that bitch upstairs say it was me?”

  “Calm down,” Paolo said. “No one is accusing you of anything. What makes you think April would say such a thing?”

  Derrick shrugged. “I put two and two together. You’ve just come from there. She doesn’t like me. I don’t like her and so I thought…but obviously I was wrong.”

  Paolo nodded to encourage him to keep talking. “What’s the issue between you two?”

  “First of all, she’s what we used to call a prick tease before the PC mob stepped in. She’s all come on, big boy, show us what you’ve got, but shuts down completely if you take her up on it.”

  “And secondly?” Paolo prompted.

  “What?”

  “You said, first of all, which implies there’s another reason you don’t get on with April.”

  Derrick shrugged, picked up his bottle and took a sip before answering. “I think she hates Montague, but pretends she’s his best buddy and I don’t like hypocrites. If you don’t like someone, fine, but don’t be all over them one minute, then badmouthing them the next. That’s what she does.”

  “If you don’t get on, why were you in her office?” Paolo asked.

  “As we have to work in the same building, I thought we should try to get over our differences, but she wasn’t having any of it.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “What do we know about this club we’re going to, sir? I can’t say I’ve heard much about what goes on there.”

  During the drive to the far side of Bradchester, while Dave listened to non-stop noise on the radio he swore was music, Paolo had allowed his thoughts to drift to Jessica and their lack of contact; was he seeing something sinister when the only problem was that she was too busy to call? At Dave’s question, he dragged his attention back to job at hand.

  “I must be honest, I know very little about Triple B, except that it’s a private club. I tend to only take interest in those clubs where it’s likely drugs are being peddled. Triple B has been open for just over a year and has never come up on our radar for any reason. Membership is by invitation only. I would imagine people get invited after existing members put names forward. I think the place operates as an old-fashioned men’s club. You know the type of place I mean? Somewhere to go for good food and fine wine served in almost complete silence, apart from the snores of those who’d succumbed to an after-lunch doze in comfortable leather armchairs.”

  Dave laughed. “I can’t imagine a more boring scenario.”

  “That’s if I’m right. And if I am, why would the owner of a place for retired businessmen be at the youth centre?”

  “We’re about to find out, sir,” Dave said over the voice of the SatNav telling them they’d reached their destination.

  The car park was only half full, but there was a strong indication of the wealth of those enjoying membership. None of the vehicles looked older than a couple of years at most and they were all at the top end of the price range. Some serious money was using the club as a meeting place. Paolo decided he might need to revise his thoughts on the clientele.

  They approached the porticoed entrance to a three storey grand building that looked as if it might have been a hotel in the not too distant past. Wide steps led to an imposing lobby. A man who looked like he might have been a heavyweight boxer in a previous life stepped out from an alcove, preventing them from going beyond the doorway. Even though he was immaculately dressed, his demeanour was that of a bruiser ready for a fight.

  “I’m sorry, gentlemen, but this is a private club. Members only.”

  Paolo showed his warrant card. “I’m Detective Inspector Paolo Storey and this is Detective Sergeant Dave Johnson. We would like to see the owner, George Baron. I called earlier. Could you let him know we’re here?”

  “No need. I’m right here, aren’t I! It’s okay Chaz, I’ve been expecting this visit.”

  Paolo looked across the lobby in the direction of the voice. The man who’d called out was nothing like he’d expected. Instead of a suave and polished upper-class man with a plum in his mouth, George Baron’s speech showed he was from a working class background, but was trying to disguise the fact with a veneer of polish over his original accent. Paolo guessed London – probably south of the Thames. But it wasn’t his voice which drew Paolo’s attention. The right side of his face was covered in a dull purple birthmark almost in the shape of a question mark.

  “Hello, Mr Baron. Thank you for seeing us at such short notice. Is there somewhere we can go that’s a little more private?”

  “Yeah, mate, come through to my office,” he said, leading the way back across the lobby to a door at the rear.

  The room they entered was occupied by a woman in her mid-thirties, possibly a bit older, Paolo surmised. She looked up as they came in and Paolo had the impression she was sizing them up for some reason.

  “This is my secretary, Trudy Chappell. Trudy, be a love and fetch some coffees for me and these nice officers, there’s a good girl.”

  Paolo hid a smile at the resentful look Trudy cast at George’s back as he led the way into his own office through a door to the right of the secretary’s desk. He noticed another door behind the desk and wondered where that one led.

  “Come in, don’t hang about out there,” George called. He settled himself behind a large mahogany desk and pointed to the two chairs facing him. “Sit yourselves down and tell me how I can help you.”

  Paolo sat down and waited for Dave to take out his notebook before continuing.

  “Were you at the opening of the youth centre?” Paolo asked. “I don’t recall seeing you there, but it was pretty packed.”

  George grinned. “No, not my scene. I was invited, but didn’t feel it was the type of evening I’d enjoy. Why do you ask? I’ve read the papers, so know what happened, but as I wasn’t there I’m not sure what you think it’s got to do with me.”

  Paolo smiled. “I don’t suppose it has anything to do with you, but we’re following up on anyone who was at the centre prior to the opening ceremony and your name came up. Forgive me for saying this, but I cannot imagine what reason you would have for calling in at the centre. As you’ve just pointed out, it isn’t really your scene.”

  George nodded as if he’d seen the light. “I was there the day before opening, but it wasn’t anything to do with the centre as such. I’d read in the paper that there was going to be a place where local businesses could advertise job vacancies. You know, get the unemployment figures down. I put up an advert for young men to come and work here – board and lodgings included.”

  “Doing what, exactly?”

  “Bar work, waiters, someone to help the gardener. We have quite a f
ew vacancies here, but we’re looking for the right type of young men. Those who won’t repeat any business secrets they might overhear.”

  There was a light tap on the door and Trudy came in bearing a tray. She placed it on George’s desk and left without a word.

  “That’s going to be a bit hot. Would you like a look round the place while it cools down?”

  “Thank you, yes,” Paolo said. “I’d got it fixed in my mind that this was an upmarket old folk’s refuge for retired businessmen. I take it I’m wrong?”

  “Yes and no,” George said, picking up the phone. “Hold on a moment. I just need to notify everyone we’ll be coming round so that they can leave the public rooms if they wish to keep their anonymity. Chaz,” he said into the receiver, “we’re going to do a tour. Can you let the members know? Great. Thanks.”

  He put down the receiver and smiled at Paolo.

  “Our membership is a mix of retired and active businessmen. As well as private meeting areas, which I won’t be taking you into, we’ve got bedrooms here so that our members can stay overnight if they so desire, but in the main most of them come for a few hours to unwind or meet their friends. Shall we go?”

  He led them back into the lobby and then through one of the doors leading off from it.

  “Through here we have the billiard room, which leads to the conservatory.”

  After an exhaustive trip around the public dining rooms, various lounges, the library and television room, Paolo knew no matter how much money he might have, this would never be somewhere he could belong, or would ever want to. It was a place of privilege for those few at the top who wanted to keep the plebs at bay.

  “What’s on the upper two floors?”

  “Bedrooms, private dining rooms, places for members to be alone if that’s what they need. You’ve seen all the public areas now. What do you think of the place?”

  “Very plush.”

  “You sound disapproving,” George said as the crossed the marble floor of the lobby.

  “Not disapproving, just not somewhere I’d feel comfortable putting my feet up on the coffee table and relaxing,” Paolo said, turning to frown at the laugh Dave managed to turn into a coughing fit.