‘Thanks, guv. I’ve got to admit, I’m starving.’
Kay jerked her thumb over her shoulder. ‘I’m going to grab a seat in the observation suite. See if I can learn anything from this interview before it ends. Could you get me a sandwich or something?’
‘Will do. See you in a bit.’
Carys hurried away and Kay walked along the corridor until she reached a solid door with a security warning on a sign pinned to its surface.
She swiped her security card across the locking mechanism to one side, then entered the room.
A series of computer screens were placed on a long fitted wooden desk opposite the door, two of which were on.
Kay pulled up a chair in front of them and sank into it with a sigh, then reached out and turned up the volume control under one of the displays.
On screen, Gavin and Parker were sitting on one side of a desk facing a man in his twenties who ran a hand through a dark fringe damp with sweat.
Kay flipped open her notebook until she found a note of the man’s name.
Shaun Browning.
The team’s research showed that Browning had been at grammar school with Damien Brancourt, eventually securing a place at the University of Winchester.
Right now, he looked as if he’d much rather be back in Hampshire rather than sitting in a dingy interview room at a Kentish police station.
‘When was the last time you saw Damien?’ said Gavin, his voice containing a metallic edge due to the way the microphones had been set up in the room.
‘In April,’ said Browning. ‘We don’t socialise much these days, but someone we knew at school got engaged and we were both invited to the party.’
‘Whose engagement?’ said Gavin.
‘Ian Marlow.’
Parker thrust a pen and paper across the desk. ‘We’ll need his details, please. Address and phone number.’
Browning obliged, and Kay narrowed her eyes at the screen.
The man’s hand shook as he scrawled across the page, and he dropped the pen when he was finished as if it burned his fingers.
‘What did you discuss with Damien?’ said Parker.
‘Christ, I can’t remember. It was seven or eight months ago. I know he was planning to go travelling in Nepal. He mentioned that.’
‘How did he seem when you last saw him? Did he say or do anything that gave you cause for concern?’ said Gavin.
Browning’s head jerked as he turned to face the detective constable, his features turning pink. ‘Like what? Is he in trouble or something?’
‘Answer the question, please.’
‘No, he was just Damien. Same as always. Chip on his shoulder about something or other and happy to complain about it to anyone who would listen. I got tired of it after ten minutes and made my excuses. Ended up chatting with a girl from Paddock Wood.’ He sat back in his seat, his shoulders relaxing a little. ‘Getting married to her next year, actually.’
‘Congratulations.’
Kay snorted at Gavin’s tone; it was evident the detective was frustrated with the lack of progress in the interview and after another twenty minutes of questioning, it seemed that Shaun Browning was going to be of no further use to the investigation.
Gavin terminated the interview and switched off the recording equipment, although he left the man sitting at the desk when he exited the room with Parker.
Kay pushed her way out into the corridor and met them as they were walking towards the exit.
‘How come Shaun Browning looked so nervous when you were interviewing him?’ she said.
Parker grinned. ‘Uniform picked him up this morning before we got a chance to contact him,’ he said. ‘Found a small amount of cannabis on him.’
Kay rolled her eyes. ‘Great. Did you charge him?’
Parker shook his head. ‘We’ll let him off with a caution. He’s got an interview tomorrow with one of the big manufacturing companies over at Aylesford. Didn’t think it was worth spoiling his week, given it’s a first time offence.’
‘He won’t get the job anyway if he doesn’t pass the drug and alcohol test that company insists upon,’ Gavin said, a grin on his face. ‘Idiot. Thought we’d leave him in there to stew for a bit before getting someone to show him the way out.’
‘No further information about this grudge that Damien Brancourt had?’
‘Not so much a grudge,’ said Parker, turning a page in his notebook and peering at his writing. ‘Apparently John Brancourt has always expected Damien to take over the business and Damien doesn’t want to. Thinks it’s below him.’
‘Families, eh?’ said Kay. ‘All right, go and read him the riot act about the cannabis and then I’ll see you back upstairs. Briefing in half an hour.’
‘Guv.’
Kay brushed crumbs from her suit trousers and scrunched up the paper bag as she licked the last of the butter from her fingertips.
Snatching a paper tissue from the box she shared with Barnes, she wiped her hands then tossed the rubbish into the bin under her desk and locked her computer screen.
‘Right, everyone. Front of the room,’ she called, pushing back her chair. ‘Carys, can you let us have an overview of the other interviews conducted today?’
The detective constable weaved her way to the front of the room before addressing her colleagues.
‘We’ve interviewed eight witnesses since this morning, and apart from Julie Rowe and Shaun Browning no-one has a bad word to say about Damien Brancourt. Three of them hadn’t kept in contact with him since leaving university, one had worked with him briefly at the petrol station on the A20 when they were in sixth form school, and the other four were at university with him until last year. None of them were close to him – they followed each other on social media, but that’s about it. On that point, we did question them whether they’d seen any posts from Damien while he’s been in Nepal but they hadn’t – all of them stated that they believed the reason for this was that he doesn’t have an internet connection out there.’
‘Makes sense. Thank you.’ Kay waited until Carys had reached her seat before bringing the team up to date with the interviews of Julie Rowe and Shaun Browning. She tapped her finger on their photos pinned to the whiteboard. ‘All right, what do we think? Anyone?’
‘What if Damien’s threat towards Jeff Donovan was taken seriously by Mark Sutton, who decided to hand out his own form of retribution?’ said Gavin.
‘Sort of a tit for tat gone wrong you mean?’ said Barnes.
‘Yes. Maybe they meant to rough him up a bit, but it went too far.’
Kay frowned and turned away from the whiteboard, twirling the pen between her fingers. ‘Could be, except we know from Lucas that Damien – presuming it’s him – was electrocuted before he suffered the head wound. Get Donovan in for questioning first thing in the morning. I’ll be interested to hear what he’s got to say about Damien and their altercation.’
‘Do you think he was tortured, guv?’ said Carys. ‘With electrocution, I mean.’
A shocked silence replaced the muted conversations taking place around the incident room as her words sank in.
‘Bloody hell,’ said Barnes.
Kay’s gaze fell to the carpet for a moment as she mulled over her response. ‘Carys – can you get onto Lucas straight after this briefing and ask him to review his post mortem report in light of your theory? See if he can find anything to support it.’
‘Will do, guv.’
‘If our victim was tortured, then Mark Sutton is a lot more dangerous than we’ve realised. From now on, I want you working in pairs outside of this room, is that understood?’
‘Guv.’
‘Yes, guv.’
‘And no-one, I repeat no-one goes anywhere near Mark Sutton unless myself or Barnes is with you. That’s an order.’
Twenty-Eight
Kay hovered at Gavin’s shoulder and stared through the privacy glass at the man sitting in interview room one, before narrowing her eyes.
&nb
sp; ‘He’s expecting the worst if he’s got Brian Sutherland representing him,’ she muttered.
‘Good, is he?’ said Gavin, sliding a clean notebook across the desk to Barnes.
‘Patient. Needs to be, with some of the people he hangs around with. You ready, Ian?’
‘Guv.’ Barnes snatched up the notebook, pocketed a pen and then led the way out of the door and through to the interview room.
He started the recording, provided the necessary caution to Jeffrey Donovan and introduced those present, before gesturing to Kay.
‘Let’s start with your employment at Sutton Site Security, Mr Donovan,’ said Kay, ignoring the solicitor who rolled his eyes and uncapped his fountain pen.
‘What about it?’
‘How long have you worked for Mark Sutton?’
‘Since I got out of prison four years ago.’
‘And how did you apply?’
‘Apply?’
‘How did you get the job?’
‘I’ve known Mark for a few years,’ said Donovan. ‘I used to drive a taxi. When I stopped doing that, he offered me a job.’
‘Why did you stop driving a taxi?’
‘What’s that got to do with your investigation, detective?’ said Sutherland, raising an eyebrow.
‘Context,’ she said, and then turned back to his client. ‘Answer the question, Jeffrey.’
Donovan glanced at his solicitor, who gave a slight shrug.
‘I lost my licence.’
‘Why?’
‘Got caught drink driving.’ He smirked. ‘They banned me for twelve months, so I needed money ’cause I couldn’t work. Mark gave me a job and when I got my licence back I decided I didn’t fancy driving the taxi anymore so I stayed with him.’
Kay opened the file that Barnes handed to her. ‘Do you hold any formal security qualifications?’
‘No. I don’t need them. I don’t work in any licensed premises, and it’s not like I’m guarding any kids, is it?’
‘So what qualifies you to work for Mark Sutton’s security business?’
His top lip curled. ‘Experience.’
‘Tell me about Damien Brancourt.’
‘What about him?’
‘Why did he punch you?’
‘You’ll have to ask him. I don’t know.’
‘A witness we’ve spoken to says that Damien Brancourt told you and Mark Sutton to leave his dad alone.’
Donovan blinked, but remained silent.
‘Furthermore, our witness states that Damien implied there would be consequences if you didn’t heed his warning.’ Kay folded her hands and stared at Donovan. ‘What’s your involvement with John Brancourt?’
Donovan crossed his arms over his chest, and then sat back in his seat. ‘I worked on one of his sites. Through Mark. Security and the like. Except he decided he wasn’t going to pay on time.’
‘What did you do?’
‘Me? I didn’t do nothing. Mark paid me no matter what happens between him and his clients. Makes no difference to me if Brancourt don’t pay his bills.’
‘What did Mark do?’
Donovan held up his hands. ‘How should I know? First thing I knew about it is when his boy spotted me, dropped the sign he’d been waving in the air and came after me.’
Kay turned at a knock on the door. ‘Come in.’
Carys appeared, a note between her fingers. She handed it to Kay before turning on her heel, closing the door behind her.
Kay looked over at Donovan. ‘Interesting. It appears that you’re no longer employed by Mark Sutton. Since when?’
‘About May. Yeah, May. Before it got hot.’
‘Why not?’
‘I don’t know. I suppose the work dried up.’
‘Where do you work now?’
‘Here and there. I do a couple of days pulling pints at one of the pubs in town.’
‘Why didn’t you press charges against Damien Brancourt?’ Kay flicked through the pages in the file. ‘You didn’t even respond to my colleagues’ phone calls to come in and let them have a statement about the assault.’
‘No need was there? I mean, the boy was an idiot, but no harm done. I think your lot made more out of it than it was, to be honest. More trouble than it was worth for me to get involved.’
Kay slipped a photograph of the mummified body at the crime scene across the table to Donovan. ‘We’ve reason to believe this is what remains of Damien Brancourt. The victim was found in the ceiling cavity of another building Sutton Site Security was guarding. That contract had been awarded to Mark Sutton by John Brancourt under dubious circumstances.’
Donovan tore his eyes away from the photograph. ‘So?’
‘Did you kill Damien Brancourt and hide his body?’
‘No!’ Spittle covered the man’s lips. ‘I never killed no-one. You said it yourself – I haven’t worked for Mark since May, so I couldn’t have done that, could I?’
Brian Sutherland put a restraining hand on his client’s arm, and then glared at Kay. ‘Explain yourself, Detective Hunter. My client takes offence at such accusations.’
Kay waited until Donovan had settled. ‘Then explain to me why Damien threatened you only months before his death. And why you seem to know that Damien disappeared in June.’
‘I told you, I’ve got no idea about the threat. It seemed to come out of the blue. Probably only targeted me because he could see the logo on my shirt. It could’ve happened to any of us.’ He shrugged. ‘And it must’ve been someone else who works for Mark who told me Damien wasn’t around in June. He was going on holiday or something, wasn’t he?’
‘Working for charity in Nepal, actually.’
Donovan’s face broke into a wicked smile. ‘Charity work, my arse. Little runt was running away from his responsibilities, wasn’t he? Didn’t want to work for his old man. What’s the point in taking over a business that’s dying a death?’
Twenty-Nine
Kay fought down the familiar sensation of impatience as she watched the team of detectives and uniformed officers assemble in the incident room the next morning.
Finally, after days of speculation and second-guessing her decisions, it seemed they had a breakthrough that would enable them to focus their attention on narrowing a field of suspects.
The youngest police constable in the team had only sunk into a seat in the middle of the small crowd when Kay began.
‘Gavin – perhaps you could bring our colleagues up to speed with what we’ve learned this morning.’
‘Guv.’ Gavin rose from his chair and nodded to two administrative staff who parted ways to let him through, eventually positioning himself at the side of the room next to the window. He waited until the murmur of voices had dissipated, then closed his notebook.
‘I received an email overnight from the British Consulate in Kathmandu. They have no record of Damien Brancourt contacting them in distress for any matter, nor do they have a note of his ever arriving in the country.’
The hubbub of voices began once more, the excitement palpable.
Gavin held up his hand to silence his colleagues. ‘We’ve also received a phone call this morning from the UK Border Agency. Damien Brancourt hasn’t used his passport since a week-long trip to Magaluf two and a half years ago.’
The incident room exploded with chatter.
‘Thanks, Gavin.’ Kay raised her voice over that of her colleagues. ‘All right, pipe down everyone. Barnes – you’re next.’
‘Guv.’ Barnes pushed himself away from the wall he’d been leaning against. ‘I’ve spoken with Andy Grey, and he confirms his team have concluded viewing the CCTV footage from major London train stations and Heathrow airport – all five terminals. There’s been no sighting of Damien Brancourt in any of the images, either inside or outside. Andy confirmed he had them check twelve hours either side of Damien’s flight to make sure. He never showed up.’
‘All right,’ said Kay. ‘Next steps. Amanda – I wonder if we could draw on your
expertise and find out if Damien used his ATM card anywhere in the twenty-four hours leading up to his death? I want to wait until we have the results from the DNA test Lucas is running against the sample given to us by John Brancourt before we go back to the parents with the news so let’s use this time to trace Damien’s last movements locally. It’s quite clear he never made it to Heathrow, so sometime after having dinner at his parents’ house that night and John dropping him off at Maidstone East station, Damien went to the Petersham Building, where he subsequently died.’
‘Will do,’ said Amanda. ‘I’ll go back a week in the timeline as well, so that I can get a feel for his movements in the days leading up to his death.’
Barnes pulled out his notebook. ‘What about Mark Sutton?’
‘Leave him for a moment. I want to find out what happened to Damien before we speak to him again. I don’t fancy interviewing him when I’ve only got half the information we need.’
Barnes nodded, then lowered his head and updated his notes.
Kay turned to the uniformed officers who comprised over half her investigative team. ‘We’ll reconvene in six hours. I want a full picture of where Damien Brancourt was the day he supposedly left for the airport. Work every angle you can, speak to your colleagues who police the town centre on a regular basis and get onto that local CCTV footage. Someone out there knows what happened to him.’
The incident room filled with the sound of chairs scuffing across carpet as the team dispersed, and Kay exhaled.
At some point, she would have to speak to Damien Brancourt’s parents again, but until she had conclusive evidence it was indeed their son who had been discovered in the ceiling cavity of the Petersham Building, she had to wait for Lucas Anderson’s findings to support her conviction.
However long it took.
Kay took the cardboard tray from the assistant behind the counter of the café and elbowed her way out of the door, a chill gust of wind from the river blowing up Earl Street and making her gasp.
Bridge to Burn Page 12
