Kay looked up from her notes. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Ask him about the bailiffs. And the smaller contractors who’ve nearly gone out of business because he owes them money. I reckon he’s got people chasing him for money on a daily basis. No wonder he’s forgetting about loaning me equipment nine months ago. Reckon he’s got bigger things to worry about at the moment.’
‘How did Damien manage to get into the building if your men were meant to be guarding it?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Were you charging Brancourt for services you weren’t delivering? Was there anyone actually guarding the building at night?’
He shrugged.
‘What were your movements on June twenty-seventh?’
‘I was stuck in the office. I was meant to be going to the site to do a check on progress, but I couldn’t get away so I sent Adrian. I told him to keep his ears open. If John Brancourt was struggling to pay smaller contractors, I didn’t want him trying to get out of paying me.’
‘Otherwise there would be consequences?’ said Kay. ‘The sort of consequences that resulted in Damien Brancourt’s death?’
‘I didn’t kill anyone. Never would,’ said Sutton. ‘Not good for business, see?’
‘Speaking of which,’ said Kay and closed her file, ‘we’ll be looking further into your business, Mr Sutton, I can assure you of that. You and I will be spending quite some time together.’
Thirty-Six
Kay threw the file onto her desk, failed to suppress a yawn and then signalled to Carys and Gavin to join her.
She pushed open the door to DCI Sharp’s old office and ran her hand through her hair as her eyes fell on the darkened sky beyond the window. She turned as Gavin shut the door.
‘Mark Sutton may be guilty of blackmail, theft and whatever Amanda Miller and her team can throw at him from a financial regulation point of view, but I think he’s telling us the truth about Damien Brancourt. I don’t think he’s responsible for his death.’
‘Are you sure, guv?’ said Carys. ‘I mean, he’s got some pretty dodgy people working for him.’
‘None of whom are in a hurry to go back to prison.’
‘I’ve been going through the statements uniform have been collating from other construction companies who have used Sutton Site Securities,’ said Gavin, ‘and although none of them will admit to being blackmailed they do say that once his people are on site, there were no problems. In fact, the instances of theft from site went down dramatically.’
‘Probably because of Sutton’s reputation,’ said Kay. ‘Anyone who knew him and his men were probably too scared to nick anything.’
‘So we let him go?’ said Carys.
‘For now. I think there’s more to this than we’re seeing at the moment,’ said Kay. ‘I want you to take a closer look at the other contractors that were working on site and who were engaged directly by John Brancourt. You can ignore anyone employed by Alexander Hill.’
She stopped talking at the sound of scratching at the door and pulled it open.
Barnes hurried inside, three pizza boxes balanced in one hand as he unbuttoned his coat with the other.
Kay took the boxes from him, handed over cash for the food and then gestured to her colleagues to help themselves while she paced the carpet.
‘Eat this before it gets cold, guv,’ said Gavin.
She sighed, then joined them and helped herself to a large slice of pepperoni-covered dough.
‘Why the John Brancourt angle, guv?’ said Carys. ‘Why not Hill?’
‘Sutton says Brancourt owed – and maybe still owes – a lot of people some money. Smaller contractors, tradespeople, that sort of thing. If one of those people was having problems getting money out of him and had tried the usual official channels, maybe they took matters into their own hands and used Damien as leverage.’
‘Is it worth speaking to John Brancourt again?’ said Barnes.
‘We will, but not yet. Did you manage to trace Damien’s last movements?’
‘No sign of him on any CCTV imagery – the angles of the cameras on nearby buildings don’t give us enough range,’ said Gavin. ‘We’ve got a picture of John Brancourt’s car passing under a camera at the motor vehicle dealership on the A20 but that’s after he dropped off Damien – there’s no passenger in the car. None of the licensees or staff from the pubs in the Sittingbourne Road area that uniform spoke to recognised Damien’s photo, either.’
‘Well he and his friend must’ve gone somewhere after John dropped him off,’ said Kay. ‘What about taxi firms?’
‘We’ve contacted all the local cab companies, guv,’ said Carys. ‘Two drivers looked promising, but both of those checked out – one passenger was a businessman at Loose, and the other was a bloke over from the States who was visiting family in Allington. No sign of Damien.’
‘Dammit,’ said Kay. ‘This is ridiculous. One of these people knows something.’
‘Is it worth interviewing his brother and sister?’ said Barnes. ‘Maybe he said something to them about where he was really going?’
‘We can try, but I want it done at their house. I’m not bringing two kids into the station – too traumatic for them given what’s happened to their brother.’
‘I’ll make a note to speak to them over the weekend. I’ll take Debbie with me – she’s good with teenagers.’
‘Okay, thanks.’ She paused, and then wandered over to a spare whiteboard against the wall and picked up a pen. ‘I think it’s time we ran another media conference and use it to ask for the public’s help in tracing Damien’s movements.’
‘Do you mean have a reconstruction?’ said Carys.
‘Exactly. Can you get onto the media team in the morning? There’ll be no time to organise anything tonight. I want everything we know about Damien’s last day presented to the public – including dinner at his parents’ house. We need the public to care about Damien. He was loved by his family, ran into a bit of trouble with us but worked his way through it and had a promising career ahead of him after getting his degree.’ Kay wrote the filming scope on the board as she spoke. ‘I want to show John driving Damien to Maidstone and leaving him at that bus stop.’
Gavin looked up from his notebook. ‘How do we present the circumstances of his death?’
Kay re-capped the pen. ‘Carefully. Don’t sensationalise this, Gav. Might simply be a case of the presenter doing a piece to camera – or I can. Appeal to the public to come forward if they know anything that might help. I’ll speak to headquarters in the morning about getting some bums on seats to answer phones once the media release goes out and the reconstruction is shown on television.’
She glanced up at a knock on the door, and then grinned at the familiar face that peered around it.
‘You made it.’
‘Wouldn’t miss pizza for the world,’ said Sharp.
He greeted the other detectives, helped himself to a slice of pizza and then raised his glass of soft drink against theirs. ‘Right, what’s going on, then?’
Kay brought him up to speed in between mouthfuls of pizza. ‘And today, we lost our prime suspect,’ she finished.
‘You don’t think Mark Sutton is involved?’
‘Not in the way we thought he was, no. I don’t think he was responsible for Damien’s death. He might have an inkling as to what’s going on, but he’s keeping quiet.’
‘Protecting his own backside,’ Barnes growled.
‘Unfortunately, people like Mark Sutton will always look after themselves before anyone else.’ Sharp’s mouth twisted. ‘It’s why he and his ilk are so successful.’
‘Ever had a run-in with him before, guv?’ said Gavin.
‘No – which shows how clever he’s been to keep off our radar. No matter what happens with this investigation, I want us to pursue a separate enquiry into his business. It’s obvious he’s running a corrupt line in security, but we need something to charge him with.’
‘Well, A
manda Miller has a lot of documentary evidence she’s taking back to headquarters on Monday,’ said Kay. ‘That should make his life uncomfortable for a while, especially when she passes that on to Revenue and Customs.’
‘It’s a start,’ said Sharp.
‘Doesn’t solve who was responsible for shoving Damien into that cavity, though,’ said Barnes.
‘Two steps forward, one step back,’ said Carys.
‘It’s like the murder investigation version of bloody tango,’ said Barnes. He snatched up a napkin and dabbed at his chin. ‘So, what do we do next?’
‘I’m hoping someone will come forward about Damien Brancourt’s movements and what the hell he was doing coming back to Maidstone when everyone we’ve spoken to has assured us he was on his way to Heathrow to catch that flight to Nepal,’ said Kay. ‘And, hopefully, the televised reconstruction will help jog people’s memory. Someone out there must know something.’
‘What if they don’t, guv?’ said Carys, her voice barely above a whisper.
‘I don’t know,’ said Kay. ‘I really don’t know.’
Thirty-Seven
Kay glanced up from her computer screen as Barnes dropped his backpack onto his chair the following morning and ran his hand through sodden hair.
‘Bloody rain. That’ll teach me to leave home late and end up having to park at the supermarket.’
She grinned and opened the bottom drawer of her desk before tossing a clean towel to him. ‘Use that. I’ve been caught out before.’
‘Cheers.’
He shrugged off his jacket, then dried his hair as he walked around to where she sat. ‘Anything come in?’
‘Nothing new to help us. Debbie’s working with Hughes and Parker to collate everything we know to date about this case so we can do an audit over the weekend. And we’re going to lose four of the uniform team on Monday – Sharp’s tried to argue the case with management, but there aren’t enough people to go around because of the budget cuts.’
‘Dammit. That’s the last thing we need at the moment.’
‘I know.’ She sighed. ‘Not a lot we can do about it, though.’
The door opened and Carys burst through, shoving a soaking wet umbrella into a plastic bag.
‘I hope Damien Brancourt appreciates this,’ she grumbled. ‘If there was ever a time to have a duvet day…’
Kay laughed. ‘Don’t give me that. You wouldn’t miss this for the world.’
A quirk began at the side of Carys’s mouth. ‘True. Where’s Gavin?’
‘Buying breakfast. I figured no-one would notice the difference with his hair if he got caught in the rain. He should be back soon. I presumed you’d both want bacon butties.’
Barnes’s stomach rumbled loudly in response. ‘You’re a legend, guv.’
‘I can’t concentrate if I’m hungry so trust me, it wasn’t a charitable decision.’
On cue, Gavin appeared, his arms laden with paper bags that he proceeded to distribute amongst his colleagues before sitting down and sinking his teeth into one of the sandwiches.
They munched in silence for a moment, and Kay’s mind wandered to the next steps in the investigation.
If Damien had met with someone prior to his flight to Nepal and found himself in danger, why hadn’t he attempted to call his parents to let them know that something was wrong? None of his friends or acquaintances that had been formally interviewed had given any indication that Damien had tried to contact them, so who had he met with?
‘Carys, can you and Gavin spend this morning going over the witness statements we took at the beginning of the week and contact everyone we spoke to? Ask them specifically if Damien mentioned whether he was planning to travel to Nepal with someone, would you?’
‘Why would he not tell his parents who he was going with?’
‘Perhaps it was a new girlfriend, or someone they wouldn’t have approved of – something like that. See what you can find out. John Brancourt says there was no-one else at the bus stop when he dropped his son off, so maybe Damien met his friend somewhere else and then walked to a pub.’
‘Will do.’
‘Do you think we’re going to find another body?’ said Barnes, his eyes worried. ‘Do you think whoever killed Damien killed his friend as well?’
‘I hope not,’ said Kay. ‘I’m working on the basis that he or she might know how Damien got into that ceiling cavity. We have to consider the fact that whoever he met with is also responsible for covering up his death. Besides, Harriet’s team found no evidence to suggest anyone else had been placed in the cavity.’
‘Guv!’
She craned her neck to peer over her computer monitor in time to see Debbie rushing towards her. ‘What’s up?’
The police constable held out some pages she’d collated from the printer. ‘Take a look at this, guv. I stumbled across it when I was going through some old newspaper reports about Hillavon Developments.’
Kay frowned and ran her eyes down the report. ‘Bloody hell.’
‘What is it?’ said Gavin, perching on the end of Barnes’s desk.
‘Alexander Hill – Hillavon Developments – had a minor shareholding in another development company with interests in Bromley,’ said Debbie. ‘Three years ago, a worker was killed on site by falling masonry, and the firm was fined a significant amount of money for dodgy health and safety practices. What if Damien Brancourt’s death was an accident, and Alexander Hill covered it up rather than risk getting sued again? I mean, Lucas said he was electrocuted, right?’
Kay pursed her lips as she finished reading the news article and handed it over to Barnes. ‘I agree, it’s worth investigating. Especially given the fact that Hill didn’t return Gavin’s calls for several days at the start of our enquiries. Maybe it was Hill who Damien met with.’
‘Do you think he was avoiding us on purpose, then?’ said Carys. ‘Getting his story straight as it were?’
‘Could be, and it could’ve been a mistake taking our focus off him these past few days. Barnes – can you find that list of attending personnel that Hughes put together from Sutton Site Security’s records? We need to find out how many times Hill went to the site to check progress.’
‘Hill would have had a key, too, given that he owns the place,’ said Barnes, scribbling into his notebook. ‘Debbie – can you contact John Brancourt and ask him for a copy of all the meeting minutes if we don’t have those already? There might be a clue amongst those if there were safety concerns on site.’
Debbie headed back to her desk, and Kay turned as her desk phone rang.
‘It’s Andy Grey over at headquarters,’ said a voice. ‘I thought you might be in early.’
‘I’m not the only one,’ she said. ‘The whole team’s here. What are you up to?’
‘We’ve been working on Damien Brancourt’s mobile phone with one of your uniformed colleagues over here,’ said the digital forensics expert. ‘Call logs came through from his provider at last, and there’s an old text message we recovered that you might be interested in. Turns out Damien had a meeting scheduled with Alexander Hill a week prior to his supposed flight to Nepal.’
Kay pushed back her chair. ‘How did you find the message if Damien had deleted it?’
Grey chuckled. ‘We have our ways. I’m going to email over what we’ve got and I’ll copy it to Debbie so she can update HOLMES.’
‘Is that the only message that mentions Hill?’
‘Yes. I’ve double checked everything, and that’s all I’ve come up with.’
‘That’s great, thanks.’
Kay ended the call and updated to her team. ‘Alexander Hill is now a significant person of interest. I want all the information you can find on him by the end of today. Barnes – come with me. I’m going to find out what John Brancourt knows about his son’s meeting with Hill.’
Thirty-Eight
John Brancourt opened the door to Kay and Barnes, his expression wary.
‘What do you want?’
‘A word, please, Mr Brancourt.’
He stepped aside and gestured to the kitchen. ‘Go through. Annabelle’s having a lie down. She’s still in shock.’
Kay let Barnes go on ahead and then placed her hand on Brancourt’s arm. ‘We have a family liaison officer who can be with you this afternoon if you need support.’
He shook his head. ‘We’d prefer to keep our grief to ourselves, detective. Thank you, though.’
He brushed past her and followed Barnes, indicating to them to take seats at the kitchen table while he leaned against the sink.
Kay waited until Barnes had retrieved his notebook from his jacket pocket and then turned her attention back to Brancourt.
‘How are the twins holding up?’
‘All right, I suppose.’ He shrugged. ‘They’re teenagers – they don’t talk much at the best of times, so it’s hard to tell.’
‘What’s your relationship with Alexander Hill like?’
‘Relationship? I bid to work on some of his projects, and that’s about it. Why?’
‘How many projects of his have you bid on?’
‘Probably a dozen over the years.’
‘And how many did you win? How many have you worked on?’
‘Three. The one at the Petersham Building, a housing project over near Aylesford and another office development at West Malling.’
‘Ever socialise with him outside of work?’
‘No. Not my type of person to be honest.’
‘Oh? In what way?’
‘A bit too cutthroat for my liking.’ Brancourt pushed himself away from the sink. ‘I run a business that’s been in my family for three generations. We take care of our workers, pay our taxes and support local charities and businesses. Alex is – how can I put it – ruthless. It’s all about the money to him.’
Kay let her gaze wander over the state-of-the-art appliances and shiny surfaces in the kitchen, then turned back to Brancourt. ‘You appear to be doing all right, though by the looks of things.’
Bridge to Burn Page 15
