Lost Hours

by Alex Walters

  ‘And there was an incident while she was there?’ Jennings asked.

  ‘A minor one. Some idiot throwing a bottle at the manager.’

  ‘The same manager whose car has now been comprehensively trashed.’

  ‘It’s a big stretch to link that to Justin Wentworth’s murder.’

  ‘I don’t imagine they’ll say it explicitly. It’ll all be innuendo. But they’ll leave their readers in no doubt what these thuggish trade unions are capable of. And maybe by extension, these thuggish Labour MPs.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous, Stuart. Even they wouldn’t suggest that. Apart from anything else, it’s in bloody bad taste given Sheena was nearly killed herself in the middle of a far-right protest.’

  ‘I don’t think anyone’s ever accused the media of good taste. But again, they won’t say it in so many words. It’ll all just be nudges and suggestions. You can just imagine it. Digging out some out-of-context quote that mentions killing or murder, so they can say “Is this the kind of rhetoric that led to the murder of this innocent young man?” They’ll probably even be able to persuade your mother to lead the condemnations.’

  ‘You’re getting carried away, Stuart. That’s just absurd.’

  ‘I’m just trying to plan ahead. As soon as we release the media statement about Wentworth, the shit’s going to hit the fan. This whole thing will be thrust into the spotlight. I just want to make sure we’re got our backsides fully covered before it happens.’ He hesitated. ‘I was even wondering if I should take you off the case, Annie.’

  She’d been aware from the moment he’d first mentioned Sheena that the conversation was circling round to this point. ‘Why would you take me off the case?’

  ‘In case there’s a perceived conflict of interest.’

  ‘There’s no conflict of interest. Why would there be?’

  ‘Apart from anything else, because your partner has publicly criticised Michelle Wentworth’s company. Do I need to spell it out to you?’

  ‘I think you probably do, Stuart. What are you suggesting? That I might not do my job properly because Sheena disapproves of Michelle Wentworth’s business practices?’

  ‘I know you’ll do a professional job. You’re one of my best officers. But we’ve got to be realistic. If we aren’t seen to be making rapid progress on this one, your relationship with Sheena could become a stick to beat us with. The media are already well aware of your relationship from the previous attempts on her life.’

  ‘You know as well as I do that if we don’t make progress, they’ll find any stick to beat us with. If it’s not Sheena, it’ll be something else. We can’t let that dictate who handles the case, surely?’

  She could see Jennings was close to losing his temper, and she wondered whether she’d pushed him too far in his current state of mind. Unlike some bosses she’d worked for, he wasn’t prone to getting angry without good reason, but she’d seen him lose his cool once or twice, especially when under pressure.

  ‘The only person who decides who handles the case is me,’ he said. ‘I know you’re more than capable and for the moment I’m happy for you to continue. But this is a warning, Annie. If we don’t resolve this one quickly or if the media start playing silly buggers, I might have to reconsider. We can’t afford for this to go pear-shaped, or even to give the press any excuse for claiming it has.’

  Annie nodded, knowing there was no point in pushing this any further. If Jennings felt he was being pushed into a corner, he’d feel obliged to show her who was boss. ‘I understand that, Stuart. I’m not trying to be difficult. I just don’t like to have my professionalism questioned.’

  ‘I’m just watching your back, that’s all, as well as my own. If the press start baying for blood, I don’t want it to be ours. So get on with the job and prove how good you are.’

  Before she could respond, he’d already turned and walked out of the room. He’d clearly recognised a good exit line. Annie shook her head and walked over to Zoe, who’d been watching the exchange from the far end of the room. Annie knew she and Jennings had kept their voices low enough to prevent the substance of their discussion from being overheard. She also knew that she’d be quizzed by her colleague as soon as Jennings had left the room.

  ‘What was all that about?’ Zoe asked.

  ‘That incident Michelle Wentworth was talking about. The damage to the car. Stuart’s fear is that the press will link it to Justin Wentworth’s killing and start implying some political motive.’

  ‘I didn’t get the sense that Michelle Wentworth saw any link between the two,’ Zoe said. ‘She just seemed irritated by the vandalism thing. If she’d thought it might be linked to Justin’s death, she’d have said so, surely.’

  ‘If she was any normal person, I’d have thought so,’ Annie said. ‘I get the feeling that Michelle Wentworth’s priorities are a little different from most people’s. But, yes, if she’d thought there was a link, I imagine she’d have been only too keen to tell us. I had the sense that she wanted to play it down.’

  ‘For someone who strikes me as a dedicated self-publicist,’ Zoe said, ‘she seems very keen to keep out of the limelight on this.’

  ‘This is a bit different from banging the drum about her business, I suppose. But you’re right. She and that guy Hardy seem very keen for us to look anywhere but at them. Maybe it’s just because they’re dodgy business types and they don’t want us to start looking too closely into what they’re doing. In which case, it’s not really a priority for us, and we can just pass on anything we might stumble across to our friends in Fraud or the Revenue or whatever.’

  ‘I suspect I’m going to have an uphill struggle trying to gain her trust and confidence,’ Zoe said, ‘but I’ve managed to do it before even in very unpromising circumstances. If I can get her onside, she might be prepared to open up a bit more.’

  ‘Especially if you can manage to spend time in her company when Hardy’s not around. It’s interesting that her first thought after calling the emergency services was to call on the company’s legal advisor. He seemed to be playing a chaperone role with her, trying to make sure she didn’t say anything out of turn. She seemed more open when he wasn’t around.’

  ‘She likes the sound of her own voice,’ Zoe said. ‘Maybe she knows she’s got a tendency to let her mouth run away with her. Calling Hardy might have been a precaution.’

  ‘It’s all speculation,’ Annie said. ‘But if you can start to build up a bit of a rapport with her, we might get a chance to see if there’s anything in it.’

  ‘That’s a big if,’ Zoe said. ‘I suspect this is not going to be the easiest assignment I’ve ever been involved in. But you never know. If she does like to talk, I’m a good listener.’

  ‘Okay,’ Annie said. ‘Stuart’s right about one thing, though. We do need to start making some real progress before the media start filling the vacuum. We’ve all got plenty to do, so we’d better get on with it.’

  Chapter Twelve

  ‘DS Everett?’

  Zoe looked up at the man who was standing in front of her. He was probably in late middle age, maybe late fifties, and had the air of a long-out-of-shape athlete. His stomach was straining at his shirt, and his garish braces indicated that the belt on his trousers was no longer up to the job. His twisted nose suggested a background in rugby or boxing, whereas the broken veins around it implied heavy drinking. He seemed genial enough, with a broad grin revealing his yellow-stained teeth.

  ‘Mr Rentoul?’

  ‘That’s me, love. Do you want to come through?’

  She followed him past the reception desk and into the interior of the building. Rentoul’s name had been given to them by Wentworth as one of the competitors who might conceivably have a grudge against her. They’d already interviewed a number of the individuals on the list without learning much new, but Rentoul had looked one of the more promising names, which was why Zoe had been allocated the interview. He had a police record for violent crime in his teens, a
lthough there was no evidence he’d been involved in any criminal activity in the intervening years. As a businessman, Rentoul apparently had something of a dodgy reputation but it seemed he’d always managed to stay on the right side of the law.

  She’d had a quick glance at the company’s entry on the Companies House website before she’d set off, looking to obtain some basic information about Rentoul. Zoe was no expert, but as far as she could judge from the published accounts the company was a sound business, if relatively small by comparison with Wentworth’s operation. She’d been impressed by the size of the office building when she’d pulled up outside, but when she’d entered the reception she’d realised it was a serviced unit, accommodating a dozen or more different businesses.

  Rentoul’s office was a mess. There was a desk piled high with papers, and a meeting table laden with used coffee mugs. Various items of discarded computer equipment littered the corners of the room. Three filing cabinets were piled high with ring binders and other paperwork.

  ‘Sorry,’ Rentoul said, as he followed her gaze around the room. ‘Bit chaotic, I’m afraid. I’d like to say that it’s not always like this, but that’d be a lie. I’m just Mr Disorganised. Or at least that’s the way it looks, but I can lay my hands on any document without even thinking about it. I’ve had various assistants and secretaries try to get me into order over the years, but it always ends in tears.’ He had the air of an avuncular end-of-the-pier comedian, Zoe thought. A bit of a character, but perhaps one you should be careful not to underestimate. ‘Now, love,’ he went on, ‘what can I do you for?’ He pulled out one of the chairs for her to sit at the table, then swept all the empty mugs aside before sitting down himself.

  ‘Do you know Michelle Wentworth?’ Zoe had decided that the direct approach was likely to be the simplest. Rentoul didn’t seem the type who would respond well to flannel.

  ‘Michelle?’ He seemed surprised at the question. ‘Depends what you mean by know. She’s a mystery to everyone, to be honest.’

  ‘But you’ve had dealings with her?’

  ‘We’ve run up against each other a few times, let’s put it that way. What’s this all about, anyway? She in some kind of trouble?’

  Zoe had agreed with Annie that, although Justin Wentworth’s death hadn’t yet been formally announced to the media, they could afford to be open with Rentoul. By the time he’d be able to spread the news on the grapevine, the media statement should have been released. ‘Her son’s been found dead. We believe it was an unlawful killing.’

  Rentoul stared at her. ‘Jesus, that’s awful. I’m not Michelle’s biggest fan but I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.’ Zoe could see him considering the implications of her presence here. ‘What’s this to do with me, anyway?’

  Zoe didn’t have a fully convincing answer to this. ‘At this stage, we’re just exploring the background. We thought it might be useful to talk to some of Mrs Wentworth’s business associates.’

  Rentoul narrowed his eyes. ‘I wouldn’t call myself one of Michelle’s associates. On the contrary, really. Like I say, we’ve run up against each other a few times. Usually to my detriment, if I’m honest. She’s pretty much screwed me over a couple of times. A couple more times than I should have allowed.’ He smiled. ‘And before you ask, knowing the way your police minds work, no, that wouldn’t give me a motive for harming her son. I was pissed off with her, but I’m not a murderer.’

  ‘No one’s suggesting you are, Mr Rentoul.’

  ‘That right? So why are you here? I’d have thought there were plenty of associates of Michelle’s you could talk to before you got to me.’ His words were laden with irony but he didn’t seem agitated or concerned to be speaking to the police.

  ‘As you’d imagine, Mr Rentoul, we’re speaking to a lot of people. We’re just trying to get as full a picture as possible.’

  ‘I don’t imagine you’ll need to speak to many people before you begin to get a good idea of her business practices.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘Don’t get me wrong. It’s hard not to admire her. She’s a shrewd operator. But she’s also ruthless. And she’s not averse to – well, let’s say to bending the rules when it suits her. I’m going to be very careful what I say here because I can’t prove any of this, but there’ve been a lot of occasions when Michelle seems to have won contracts against all the odds. It’s partly because they do it on the cheap – a bit too cheap, I reckon. They talk a lot of bollocks about streamlining the services and improving efficiencies, but all it amounts to cutting the service back to the bone and paying people as little as they can get away with. But that doesn’t entirely explain some of their successes. There’ve been a lot of rumours.’

  ‘What are you suggesting? Corruption?’

  ‘Not for me to say. If there’s been dodgy practice, that’s for you lot to find out. But I know what I’ve heard. Even about some of the big public sector contracts she’s got. All I know is, we’ve lost a few bids against her that we should have won. She had an inside track. Someone in her pocket.’

  ‘And this has happened a lot?’

  ‘Again, not for me to say. To be honest, Michelle’s outgrown us now. We used to come up against her on couriering and transport jobs. But that’s only a small part of her business now. She’s operating in the big league. I wonder if she’s bitten off more than she can chew?’

  For all his initial suspicion, Rentoul seemed only too happy to shoot his mouth off about Michelle Wentworth, with just the occasional prompt from Zoe. Maybe he was finding it cathartic to vent his spleen against Wentworth after all these years. ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘She’s got her fingers in a lot of pies these days, from what I hear. Outsourcing contracts. Back office work. Security work. It wouldn’t surprise me if she’s managed to tread on some toes. Not everyone’s as easy-going as I am.’

  ‘Are you prepared to name any names?’ Zoe asked, knowing the answer even before she asked the question.

  ‘I wouldn’t even if I could. But this is just grapevine stuff. Michelle’s never worried about making enemies. Maybe she’s made one too many.’ Rentoul leaned back in his office chair, which creaked alarmingly under his weight. ‘I’m still intrigued as to why you’re here, though. I mean, why here in particular. I hear all the guff about exploring the background, but I still reckon I’d be low on the list of Michelle’s contacts. Somebody finger me, did they?’

  Zoe offered no response. She had no intention of lying directly to Rentoul, but she was happy for him to think whatever he wanted. It hadn’t escaped her attention that Rentoul was echoing the words Ronnie Donahue had spoken about his ex-wife’s ethics.

  ‘That’s the thing about Michelle,’ Rentoul continued. ‘She’s ruthless. Maybe I’ve got on the wrong side of her once too often. Even though we haven’t had any real contact for a good while, she’s probably quite happy to throw me under the bus. The question you have to ask yourself is why is she doing that. Maybe because while you’re sitting here talking to me, you’re not poking your nose into her business affairs.’

  ‘When was the last time you had any dealings with her?’

  ‘Must be at least a couple of years ago, when we were both pitching for some transport work. She won, needless to say. It was at that point that I decided that, if she was pitching for a job, it wasn’t worth trying to compete with her. Luckily, since she’s largely moved on to bigger and better things, she’s left me to operate a bit further down the food chain. That suits me fine.’

  ‘Okay, Mr Rentoul. That’s probably all I need for the moment. Many thanks for your time. I’ll let you know if we need to talk to you further. I’ll leave you with my contact details. If anything else occurs to you that you think might be relevant to our case, let me know.’ She’d taken the interview as far as it would go. Her instinct was to believe what Rentoul had told her. Apart from anything else, he did seem to be operating on a much smaller scale than Wentworth, and nothing obviously suggested he had reason to ho
ld a grudge. He seemed to be successful enough, just not as successful as Michelle Wentworth.

  As Zoe got up to leave Rentoul offered a final comment. ‘There’s only one thing I can tell you. Whatever Michelle might have said to you, whatever smokescreen she’s tried to create, it’s most likely a load of bollocks. It’s her you should be looking at. Lady Muck, with her fancy house and swimming pool. Take a close look at her business. That’ll be where the answers lie.’

  ‘We’re very grateful for your advice, I’m sure, Mr Rentoul,’ Zoe said. ‘I’ll bear it in mind.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  ‘Penny for them,’ Peter Hardy said.

  ‘I was thinking about Justin,’ Michelle Wentworth said. ‘Poor little sod.’

  ‘Expressed with your customary compassion.’

  ‘Fuck off, Peter. You might be a completely heartless bastard, but I’m not.’

  ‘Is that right? That’s not the impression I’ve formed over the years.’

  ‘Fuck right off,’ she repeated. ‘Or at least as far as the kitchen to get us a drink.’

  They were sitting outside by the pool, enjoying the last of the evening sun. Wentworth had been working all afternoon, and Hardy had turned up to run through some figures with her. It was a regular pattern in their relationship. They tended to spend two or three nights a week together. Peter would turn up for some legitimate business reason, but always late in the afternoon. She’d invite him to stay for dinner, and that almost invariably also meant staying the night. That was fair enough, she thought. She was happy to keep the relationship simmering away at that level.

  Hardy pushed himself to his feet. ‘A G&T or do you want to move on to wine?’

  ‘Wine. There’s a nicely chilled Sauvignon Blanc in the fridge. If you want red, there’s a bottle open on the side.’

  ‘You know what happened last time you sent in someone to get you a drink, don’t you?’