The following Monday, Kay elected to take Gavin with her to interview David Mason, given that Carys and Barnes had to spend the morning working on their existing caseload rather than the decade-old investigation she was leading.
Debbie had telephoned Mason the previous afternoon, arranging for Kay to speak to him during his lunch break.
On the way to Canterbury, Gavin had persuaded Kay to stop at a petrol station so he could buy food.
She’d stared out of the window, watching other drivers’ vehicles as they tore past in the pouring rain with no regard for their safety or that of others. At one point, she’d had her heart in her mouth as a car nearly aquaplaned across the asphalt.
When Gavin had returned to the vehicle, she had laughed as he tried to open the door and balance his purchases at the same time, cursing at the water that coursed down his neck.
As she pulled away, he had unwrapped the first of three sandwiches, devouring it with ease.
‘Anyone would think you were starving.’
‘I am. If I don’t eat this, all you’re going to hear during our interview with David Mason is my stomach rumbling.’
‘I swear blind you’ve got hollow legs.’
He shrugged as he unwrapped the second sandwich. ‘I’ve been working out a lot, ready for the summer. Me and some mates are saving up to go kite surfing down in Cape Town – if I don’t keep my calories up, I won’t be able to increase my strength.’
He polished off the last of the sandwiches, wiped his fingers on a paper napkin and shoved the rubbish in a plastic bag at his feet before extracting a printout that Debbie had handed to him on their way out the door.
Kay glanced over. ‘So, what do we know about Mr Mason?’
Gavin raised his voice so she could hear him over the rain pounding the roof of the car. ‘He’s been working at the stationery superstore for the past four years – he’s the manager there. Before that, he was a photocopier salesman travelling all over the Southeast. Lives in Canterbury, married with two kids – apparently the kids are now in their teens; a boy and a girl. The wife works at a biotech company as a personal assistant for one of the general managers.’
‘All sounds normal, then.’
‘Yeah – his name didn’t come up in the database for anything, not even a traffic infringement.’
Kay slowed the vehicle as they approached the junction for the superstore, and silently congratulated herself as she found a parking space right outside the front door.
Gavin followed her through the glass double doors that opened automatically as they approached, and gave a low whistle under his breath.
‘Debbie would call this paradise.’
Kay laughed, but had to agree with him – the uniformed police officer who helped them on many of their cases had a reputation for guarding the stationery cupboard as if it were the United States Bullion Depository at Fort Knox.
A salesgirl approached them, a smile on her face. ‘Can I help you?’
‘Morning,’ said Kay. ‘We’ve got an appointment to see David Mason at eleven o’clock.’
‘Oh, right. He said he was expecting someone. Come with me – we’ve got an office at the back, and I think he said he was going to be there.’
Kay and Gavin followed the teenager through the length of the store, until she stopped at a solid wooden door, removed a lanyard from around her neck and swiped her security card across the lock.
A soft click reached Kay’s ears, and the girl pushed the door open before gesturing to her right.
‘Here you go. David’s in there.’
‘Thanks.’
David Mason rose from the chair he’d been occupying, and held out his hand as they entered. ‘Thanks for being on time. I’ve got a telephone conference with head office in an hour.’
‘That’s fine,’ said Kay. ‘Hopefully this won’t take too long.’
Mason moved across to the other side of the room, where a small coffee machine sat on a pine cabinet, and gestured to it.
‘Hot drink?’
‘That’d be great, thanks.’
Mason sorted out coffee for them, and then Gavin extracted his notebook as the superstore manager took a seat once more and pushed coffee mugs across the desk to them.
‘The woman who phoned said you wanted to talk to me about Jamie Ingram.’
‘Briefly, we’ve been requested to reopen the investigation into Jamie’s motorbike accident ten years ago,’ said Kay. ‘I can’t go into details, but I would like to know a bit about your relationship with Jamie – I understand that you’d known each other since you were at school?’
Mason tugged at his earlobe and leaned forward in his seat. ‘Actually, we didn’t hang out much at school. We were both in the Scouts. When we both left that at sixteen, we stayed in touch until Jamie joined the army.’
‘Did you have much contact with Jamie once he joined up?’
‘Not much. I saw him maybe once a year – usually around one of our birthdays. We got into the habit of meeting up for a quiet drink. It’s strange; we really didn’t have much in common, and I don’t know if we would still be in touch if he was alive today.’
‘When was the last time you spoke with Jamie?’
‘The last time he came back from deployment. Thank goodness – after what happened, I’m glad that I got to see him that last time.’
Kay flipped through her own notes, and checked the timeline. ‘How many days before Jamie’s death did you see him?’
‘From memory, it was about six days. I didn’t hear about the accident for a couple of days. I think it took Michael and Bridget time to get over the shock, before they started to contact Jamie’s friends. Understandable, really.’
‘Did Jamie seem concerned about anything when you saw him?’
His forehead creased. ‘Yes, he did actually. We did our usual thing – met up for a couple of drinks at a pub here in Canterbury near the cathedral, and the whole time he kept checking his phone as if he was waiting for a phone call or text message. I remember that I joked that I needn’t have bothered meeting him, given he wasn’t really concentrating on the conversation. After that, he put the phone away, but he seemed nervous about it. When I asked him about it, he wouldn’t tell me what was going on – I assumed it was something to do with the army. You know, perhaps they were getting ready to redeploy somewhere and he couldn’t tell me where.’
‘Have you stayed in touch with Jamie’s family since?’
He shook his head. ‘No – I wasn’t really close to them. Like I said, I only knew Jamie because we’d both been in the Scouts together, and it did feel like we were drifting apart as friends when I last saw him.’
Kay rose to her feet, and signalled to Gavin.
‘Thank you, Mr Mason. We won’t keep you any longer.’
Thirty-Two
Kay and Carys had been shown to a meeting room upon arriving at the cement distribution depot north of Maidstone.
She’d left Gavin back at the incident room to type up his notes following their meeting with David Mason, and had smiled when he’d pulled out a large packet of muesli bars from his desk drawer as she’d left with Carys.
Greg Kendrick had explained to Carys when she had phoned him over the weekend that he worked as a delivery driver, often starting before six in the morning and then returning to the depot mid-afternoon.
The meeting room comprised a round table and four chairs, with a window that looked out onto the concrete apron of the distribution plant, a constant flow of cement trucks passing by.
The young girl that worked on reception had organised water for them, and as Kay drained the last dregs from her glass, the door to the room opened and a man stuck his head around it.
He wore a high visibility vest, glasses, and a harried expression.
He closed the door behind him. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting – I’d hoped to finish early today because I knew you were waiting to speak to me, but we had an urgent last minute load to deliver in Ay
lesford. I’m Greg Kendrick.’
Kay shook hands with him, and introduced him to Carys before he took a seat opposite them and folded his hands on the desk.
‘I understand you want to talk to me about Jamie Ingram?’
‘Yes,’ said Kay. ‘I know you spoke to my colleagues about Jamie at the time of his death ten years ago, but as Carys told you on the phone, we’ve reopened the investigation into the motorbike accident, and I wanted to speak to his friends from that time.’
‘Of course. What do you need to know?’
‘Can you confirm how long you’d known Jamie for?’
‘Since school. We both went to Swadelands in Lenham. Neither of us bothered staying on to do A Levels – Jamie joined the army soon after, and I’ve had a few labouring jobs over the years, before starting here four years ago.’
‘Did you socialise much while he was in the army?’
‘Yes, from time to time when he was on leave. You probably know this, but he spent a lot of his leave back at the farm – especially once he started being deployed to Afghanistan for months on end. I think he missed the greenery and the countryside. I knew his parents quite well from when we were at school, so I used to drive over to see him there, or would meet up and have a few beers in Maidstone.’
‘May I ask, did you have a girlfriend or wife at the time? Did you socialise together with Jamie?’
‘I was engaged at the time of Jamie’s death. I hadn’t seen him for a few months – he never met my wife.’ He shrugged. ‘Anyway, that didn’t work out – we got divorced three years later.’
‘Were you aware if Jamie was seeing anyone at the time?’
Kendrick leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin. ‘Yeah. I saw him nine days before he died, and that was the last time I saw him. He couldn’t make it to Kent – said he had something on that meant he needed to stay close to the barracks for another couple of days – I don’t know what. Anyway, I drove down to Surrey for the weekend and we went out for a drink. We went to the local pub – the Red Lion, I think it was called. There was a barmaid there who Jamie introduced me to, and it was pretty obvious that he was besotted with her. A few of us ended up having a lock-in on the Friday night, and they couldn’t take their hands off each other. The landlord of the place let us crash out in his flat upstairs that night, and we had a big greasy fry-up in the morning. She hadn’t stayed over – something to do with having to catch up with her family at some point that weekend, and she arrived later for her shift, but Jamie said over breakfast that he was going to ask her to marry him.’
Kay’s heart skipped a beat. ‘Did his parents know about that?’
Kendrick shook his head. ‘I don’t know. Jamie was still psyching himself up to ask her, so maybe he didn’t tell them, in case she said “no”.’
‘Do you have a name?’
His brow puckered for a moment, and then his eyes lit up. ‘Yes, I remember now – Amber Fitzroy.’
‘Did he ask her while you were there that weekend?’
‘No, that’s the weird thing. On the Sunday afternoon as I was packing up my car to leave, I overheard loud voices in the kitchen. I had parked the car outside the back door of the pub, to keep the main car park clear for customers. Jamie and Amber were having one hell of an argument.’
‘What about?’
‘I don’t know, but when I walked through the kitchen door, Amber ripped out some diamond earrings and threw them at him. She stormed out of the kitchen after that, and Jamie tried to laugh it off before ushering me back to my car. It was like he couldn’t wait to get rid of me. I never did find out what it was all about.’
‘Did you speak to her at all after Jamie died?’
‘No. She didn’t even turn up at his funeral, which I thought was strange.’ He shrugged. ‘I never went back to Deepcut after that – Jamie was the only person I knew that lived in the area, or at least at the barracks.’
‘How would you describe his mood the last time you saw him? Did he seem concerned about anything?’
‘No. If anything, he seemed a bit full of himself – he was always pretty easy-going, but that last time he seemed to be going out of his way to show off. Most of the time he was happy to chat about the old days, and take the piss, but once he came into that money, he changed. It’s like him giving Amber those earrings – he didn’t have to do that. She’d said on that last Friday night while we were all drunk that she would have been happy with a meal out. Those earrings? Over the top, if you ask me.’
Kay exchanged a glance with Carys and then turned back to Kendrick. ‘What do you mean “came into that money”? What money?’
‘When I asked him how he could afford the earrings, he said that an aunt of his had died and left him with some money.’ He shrugged. ‘I guess he had a rich aunt. He’d never mentioned her before that, though.’
Kay closed her notebook, and signalled to Carys that they were finished. ‘Well, thank you for your time. We won’t keep you any longer.’
He rose from his seat, and then opened the door for them. As Kay drew level with him, he held up his hand.
‘You didn’t say why you had reopened the investigation into Jamie’s motorbike accident.’
She gave a small smile. ‘Routine, that’s all. Thanks again.’
Kay waited until she and Carys had reached the car before she turned to the younger detective, who wore the same perplexed expression that Kay expected she had.
‘So, Jamie lied to one of his oldest friends, using the same excuse Carl Ashton initially gave to you and Barnes to explain his sudden financial gain,’ said Carys.
Kay opened the car door, tossed her bag into the foot well, and settled in for the ride back to the incident room.
‘Makes you wonder what else he lied about – and why.’
Thirty-Three
Kay spun her chair from side to side as she waited for her call to be answered.
After four rings, and as she was about to give up, a gruff male voice barked a greeting.
‘Mr Walsh?’
‘Yes. That’s me. Who is this?’
‘Detective Inspector Hunter from Kent Police. Are you the current licensee for The Red Lion pub in Deepcut?’
‘I am. What do you want?’
‘We’re currently in the process of reviewing a cold case from ten years ago. The motorcycle death of an army private who was based at the barracks that used to be there. I understand from talking to his ex-commanding officer and his sister that he used to drink in The Red Lion.’
The man snorted. ‘He may have done, but that was before my time. I’ve only been here two years, and I’m about to put the place up for sale.’
‘I don’t suppose you know who ran the place ten years ago?’
‘Yeah – that would have been Trent Oldham. He’s retired now; the Lion was his last pub. He still lives in the village.’
‘Have you got a number for him?’
‘No. He’s listed in the directory. You can look him up. If that’s all, I have to go.’
He hung up without waiting for a response, and Kay glared at her phone in disbelief.
‘I see your charm is working as well as ever,’ said Barnes, grinning.
‘Very funny. See if you can find a number for Trent Oldham.’
She waited while Barnes tapped his computer keyboard, his brow furrowed while he read the search results.
‘How did you get on with Kendrick?’ said Gavin, wandering over to her desk.
‘Better than Mason – he’s given us the name of the barmaid who Jamie gave those diamond earrings to.’
‘Here you go,’ said Barnes. He handed Kay a sticky note with a phone number scrawled across it, and she wrinkled her nose.
‘Christ, I can see why Debbie moans about your handwriting. What are you doing giving her your notes to type up, anyway?’
‘She’s faster than me.’
Kay waved the sticky note in his direction. ‘Typing lessons for you, Detective Constable. As
soon as possible. Notwithstanding the fact we have to get you kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century, Debbie’s got better things to do than be your secretary.’
Gavin laughed, and wandered back to his desk as Barnes pouted at her.
She dialled the number on the note, and swore under her breath as it went to voicemail.
She knew she was becoming impatient, but she needed a result – and fast. She couldn’t let Sharp or Larch down.
Not now.
She left a message, then slid her phone across the desk, resigned to having to wait for the ex-landlord to call her back, and instead began to sift through the paperwork in her trays.
‘That’s weird.’
Kay looked up from a prosecution report Gavin had prepared at Carys’s voice, and noticed a perplexed expression on the DC’s face.
‘What is it?’
‘When Harrison interviewed the Ingrams ten years ago, he never spoke to Giles Stockton. I can’t find his name anywhere in the old database entries.’
‘Natalie told us she didn’t meet Giles until eight years ago.’
‘Yeah, but he and Jamie knew each other.’
Kay pushed back her chair, the motion sending it scooting across the threadbare carpet until it hit a filing cabinet.
She ignored the noise, and hurried over to where Carys was staring at her computer screen.
‘What have you got?’
‘I was doing a routine search on Giles’s background, and came across this photograph. It was taken at a fundraising event at the Hop Farm near Paddock Wood. Raised a lot of money for a local children’s hospice – look.’
Kay peered over Carys’s shoulder and stared at the photo on the screen.
In it, a smiling Giles Stockton had an arm slung around Jamie Ingram’s shoulder, a huge grin on his face, and a glass of champagne in his hand.
Both men wore tuxedos, and looked comfortable in the formal attire – and in each other’s company.
‘Natalie never mentioned her husband knew Jamie at the time of his death,’ said Kay, her interest piqued. ‘When was this photo taken? ‘
Call to Arms Page 13
