“I'm not implying or assuming anything. I'm merely trying to build a picture. Trying to understand.”
“They invested heavily in certain shorts. That's short-term investments, to you.” Grantham emphasised the last with a look of disdain, giving Yvonne the distinct impression he didn't like police officers. He continued. “?The investments didn't yield as they'd promised. Look, I have to go. You know, they weren't just dealing with us.” He sighed and began to move away, making it clear he felt the interview was over.
“I know. We'll be talking to other companies involved. Would we be able to speak with you again, if needed?”?
Mark Grantham tossed a bag over his shoulder. “Sure.” He sounded relaxed, but there was a tenseness in his rigid expressions and stiff movements. As soon as he was far enough away, the DI suggested to Dewi that he and Callum should double-check whether Grantham had a criminal record, and look specifically for sexual offences, and to make sure nothing was missed.
Later that evening, Tasha pulled up a chair to where Yvonne was seated in the garden. “Penny for them?”?
The DI came round from her reverie and smiled thinly at the psychologist. She was feeling world-weary. “Sorry. What time is it?”?
“Just after seven.” Tasha popped her bag next to the wicker garden chair, into which she plumped herself.
“How was the journey back from London?” Yvonne stood up. “I made some food, and what would you like to drink?”?
“I'm okay for a bit. I had a large lunch before I left and a sandwich on the train. Sit for minute and tell me what's going on to make you look so worried. Is it the case you're working?”?
“No. We're making progress with it. I've got a lot to tell you. I know you've only been gone a few days but there's been a some significant developments.”?
“Then what else, Yvonne. I know when something's bothering you.”
The DI sighed, placing her chin on her hand. “I talked to my mum the other day. Something I haven't done for some time.”?
“Are there problems between you two? I have wondered why you don't talk about your parents.”
“My father killed himself.”
“Oh.” Tasha looked at the ground and shook her head. “Yvonne, I'm sorry.” Her eyes met the DI's. “?You blame your mum?” It was said more like a statement than a question.
Yvonne blinked several times, her eyes glistening. “She had an affair. My father found out and it destroyed him. My mother moved to Australia with the other man.”?
“Making it hard for you to forgive her and virtually impossible to forgive the other man.”
“They moved about three years after my father died.”
“Perhaps that was the only way she felt she could continue with her life. Maybe the memories were to painful to stay? How old were you when your father passed away?”?
“Mid-teens. I'd just completed GCSEs. One of the last memories I have of my father was at the sea, during the summer holiday, on a camping vacation.”?
“How were they when they were together, your mum and dad? What was their relationship like?” Tasha sat back in her chair, studying the DI.
Yvonne could feel this turning into a therapy session, something she didn't really want. Still, she answered the question.
“My mother was the life and soul. I'd hear her telling my dad that he took life too seriously. It was she who'd accept the party invites and then persuade my dad it was a good idea. She liked dancing. He liked country walks.”?
“And, I'm guessing, he wasn't that fond of dancing.”
“She'd try to drag him up, at weddings etc., and he'd dig his heels in.”
“Hmmmmm.”
“But he loved watching her dance. He'd smile with love and pride. I could see how much he adored her.”?
“How did they meet?”
“They worked for the same company. He was an accountant and she a personal assistant to the boss. Apparently, my dad chased her for ages. He'd wait for her after work, to ask her how her day was. He used to say that he hadn't expected to win her over, but that hadn't stopped him trying.”? Yvonne smiled. “Romantic, don't you think?”
“Very.” Tasha rubber her chin. “But what you're describing to me is chalk and cheese. You do know that...”
“Of course. They were different, but they had been very much in love.”
“Your mum was looking for a more energetic life with your father. As hard as it may be for you to accept, he was struggling to meet her halfway.”?
“Are you saying the affair was inevitable?”
“Not the affair. The break-up. I think the break-up would have happened at some point, anyway.”
“But would my father still have killed himself?”
“How did your mum take his death?”
“She blamed herself. Cried a lot. Self-pity.”
“Don't you think you're being a bit tough on her, Yvonne? People sometimes have affairs. They don't expect their partners to end it all.”?
“She moved away.”
“Did you talk to her about it before she moved?”
The DI shook her head. “I couldn't. I couldn't talk to her because I couldn't forgive her.”
“Your mum moving away could have more to do with your rejection of her than her own self-loathing. And she probably did blame herself, every bit as much as you blamed her.”
“Can I change the subject?”
Tasha pursed her lips. “If you wish.”
Yvonne talked about the case, filling her in regarding the latest developments, but Tasha could see that Yvonne was distracted. The business with her mother wasn't finished, by any means.
Ryan Smith was sat in the lounge of the 'Willow and Beeches', belonging to Bettws Hall. The lodge was designed to accommodate up to sixteen people in luxury; king-sized, en suite accommodation. Ryan had it all to himself. Lodge staff informed Yvonne and Dewi that this was usually what their more affluent clients required.
The lodge oozed quality, from the locally-sourced oak beams to the plush upholstery and accompanying chef and waiting staff. Ryan Smith would want for nothing during his stay. Yvonne was glad of the peaceful atmosphere.
Ryan didn't get up when they entered. He merely raised his head from the paperwork he'd been studying.
He was long and lean, in black jeans and grey t-shirt. His clothes were a perfect fit, hugging obvious muscles.
“Mr Smith I'm...”
“I know who you are, DI Giles. I'm not expecting anyone else.”
“This is DS Dewi Hughes.” Yvonne thought that introduction probably wasn't needed either, but she wouldn't be silenced - no matter the wealth or the impatience of the interviewee.
“How can I help you, officers?” He said it like he couldn't care less.
“We're exploring the background to the suicides of two local businessmen. I understand both were business clients of yours.”?
Smith sighed and pushed his paperwork to one side. “Who are we talking about here?”
“Ben Davies and Tony Ball.”
“You mean the guys who killed their families as well as themselves? My company had dealings with them.”?
“And your company is Highland Finance.”
“That's right.” He wiped the knee of his jeans free of something non-existent.
“How well did you know them?”
“As well as I know any of my company's clients. I thought they were good at what they did and liked to live life to the full. Their deaths surprised me.”?
“How did you meet them?”
“They approached me after some of their investments with Boxhall began shrinking.”
“I understand you used to work for Boxhall, yourself. Why did you leave?”
The muscles in is face tightened, and he folded his arms. “I suspect you know the answer to that question already.”?
“I'd like to hear your version.” Yvonne's voice was low and soft but the there was an edge to her gaze.
“I was accused of
insider trading. I was eventually cleared, but the company let me go. Couldn't afford to have that kind of smell around.”?
“So you set up your own company...”
“Where's this going?”
A smartly-dressed waiter entered after knocking. On sensing the tension, he ducked back out again.
“Please don't feel threatened by us, Mr Smith. We're just filling in some gaps in the backgrounds of the men. Relatives want to know why. You do understand?”?
He unfolded his arms. “I don't feel threatened, but neither do I trust the motives of others. You'll forgive me that...given my experience.”?
Yvonne nodded. “Did you, or anyone in your company, foresee what was going to happen?”
“No.”
“Did you think them vulnerable?”
“If you're asking if I preyed on them financially, the answer is no.” He got up and walked to the window.
“Did you make a lot of money when they lost money? Or did you lose money, too?”
“You know I don't have to answer that sort of question without a lawyer present.”
“Do you think you need a lawyer?”
“That depends on where this is going and what it is you really want to know. I am not to blame for their deaths. If that's what you're thinking.”
“I didn't say I was blaming you, Mr Smith.”
“They bought into investments with their eyes open.”
“I understand Ben Davies had only been an accredited investor for just over a year. Does that really constitute eyes open?”?
“They had financial advisers. All investors have financial advisers, independent from fund managers. Maybe you should talk to those guys.”?
“We will, thank you.” Yvonne rose from her seat. “One more thing, Mr Smith, I understand you had a conviction for exposure, aged seventeen. What was that about?”?
In that moment, he looked as though she'd punched him. “I took a leak in a park.” He spat the words, striding back from the window. “?Go. And the next time you want to speak with me, I'll have legal representation.”
As they left the lodge, Dewi spoke for the first time since their arrival. “He's nervous about something.”?
“You think so?” Yvonne surveyed their surroundings. “I think he's hiding something. I don't know if that's related to the deaths, though. He wasn't happy when I mentioned his exposure offence.”?
“He was a youngster. He could've been taking a leak, like he said.”
“People are rarely convicted for just taking a leak, Dewi.”
“Fair enough, ma'am.”
“I'm curious about his being in the area right now, though: the same time as Mark Grantham. If Ryan Smith left Boxhall Investments under a cloud, what is he doing here at the same time as the Boxhall CEO? And both staying in accommodation connected to Bettws Hall.”
“I'll look into it, ma'am.”
“Thanks, Dewi. We'll get the team together this afternoon for a briefing.”
He usually watched them, on and off, for at least six months – dependent on opportunity. The personality of the man was just as important as the look of the woman. The husband had to be a risk-taker. Had to have vulnerabilities to exploit. All he had to do was set things up and patiently watch and wait for the time to be right.
He enjoyed the churning in the depths of his stomach. The shivers. The pins and needles. Every nerve ending tingled. It was always like this when he decided on a new couple. But with every family, he increased the risk of being caught. Paradoxically, this heightened both the pleasure and the fear, evidenced by the pearls of sweat building on his upper lip and soaking his shirt at the base of his spine. His biceps ached from the weight of the binoculars, heavier with every minute he surveyed his quarry.
Thomas Childs left his house for work, unaware of the watcher up on the path. Who had a perfect view of his coastal home. Who watched him get into his Jag and fire up the engine. Who watched the car purr out of sight. Who then turned his attention back to the house. The site of which, was perfect –? just around the corner from the Aberystwyth town, along the coastal walk.
Frequented by tourists, he could be anyone, and he had a long view in either direction to ensure he wasn't caught spying. He had to choose his cover carefully but, aside from that, it couldn't be a better location. And, once again, the house had lots and lots of glass.
With the husband gone, he could move in closer. He felt more alive than he had in weeks. He lay down in the sandy grass, binoculars almost flush with the ground. His arms could cope better now.
She moved around the house in her underwear. He couldn't have scripted it better. He checked his watch. Seven-thirty am. He'd have to go soon. The early birds would be out and about with their dogs, or else beginning a hike along the cliff. He wouldn't risk discovery.
15
Williams and Wells Financial Advisers' had offices in Newtown. Yvonne and Dewi parked as near as they could, without using the public car parks. She could see the river and paused to watch it. The water had been dirtied by recent storms. The turbulence seemed a good metaphor for recent events.
The office's highly polished chrome-and-glass finish was indicative of the wealth of the clients who used the firm, and Yvonne felt as though her mere presence might sully its look. The individuals working there appeared as polished as their surroundings. Not a hair or a piece of clothing out of place. The DI straightened her skirt.
“DI Giles?” A grey-suited, blonde-haired girl directed this at Dewi, who cleared his throat uncomfortably. “?Err...I'm DS Hughes,” he said, in a more authoritative tone than he would normally use. “This is DI Giles,” he added, holding an arm out towards Yvonne.
The girl smiled at the DI, but without hint of apology. The two detectives followed her towards a suite of rooms off a small corridor. A further young female, in the front office, barely noticed them, typing quickly as she stared at her screen.
Paul Baker rose immediately as they entered. Extending his hand, he waited for them to introduce themselves before confirming who he was.
“Please.” He pointed to the comfortable chairs next to his desk. His crisp, metallic- blue suit tossed around the sunlight from the window. His shirt was perfectly ironed.
“I'm sorry to bother you at work.” Yvonne took the offered seat, setting her bag next to her feet. Dewi perched on the edge of his chair.
“Well, Darryl okayed it, so it's fine with me. How can I help you?”
Yvonne appreciated his helpful attitude and relaxed a little. “We'll need to speak to Darryl as well. We're trying to tie up some loose ends around the deaths of two businessmen.”? Once again, Yvonne thought it better to concentrate on the ones in her force area for the time being. “Ben Davies and Tony Ball committed suicide after killing their families. Obviously, that's left their wider families and friends with a lot of questions they'd like answered.”?
“Yes.” Paul stared through the window, his face grave. There was a second or two of silence before he continued. “?I knew both men, of course.” He raised his head to look the DI directly in the eyes. “What would you like to know?”
“I understand you're a junior partner in the company.”
“Yes, that's right. Though I wouldn't say I did the junior share of the work.”
“How much time did you spend with either of the men?”
“Errrm...well, I spoke with them probably once a month, on an official basis.”
“Did you ever see them unofficially?”
“Occasionally socialised with them. Darryl knew them better than I. He arranged for me to go with him to a party Ben Davies was holding a couple of years back. I continued to go to the odd social gathering, from that point really.”?
“You knew his family?”
“I did. Lovely family. It's senseless, a senseless waste.”
“Did you have any idea that something like this could happen? Were the family unhappy?”
“Ben lost a lot of money. Financial dealings he ha
d didn't work out the way he planned. We introduced him to the firms he invested with. After that, he would do his own thing and just check in with us now and again. We warned him a few times about the risks he was taking. His head did go down towards the end.”?
“Did he get on with his wife?”
“He always seemed happy to me...until the end, like I said.”
“What about Tony Ball?”
“Tony could be stern. I'd seen him lose his patience with Darryl a few times?”
“You mean Darryl your senior partner?”
“Yes. I think Tony partly blamed Darryl for the mess he got into. He'd gone to him for some advice on trades and investments he was considering. He accepted the advice and wasn't happy with the result. Darryl saw more of Tony than I did. He could tell you more about that.”?
“How often did you socialise with Tony and his family?” It was Dewi's turn to ask a few questions.
“Well, again, I went to a few parties. Garden parties in the summer, mostly.” Paul Baker ran his hand through his short, dark, hair. “?Once or twice, I went to a country do when both men were in attendance.”
“They knew each other, then?”
“In passing, so to speak. I don't think they were big friends or anything.”
“Did you see what was coming for either man and their families?”
“Absolutely not.”
The grey-suited blonde assistant was back. Her heels click-clacked on the parquet flooring. “Mr Williams will see you now.”?
Yvonne and Dewi rose obediently. The DI gave a small wave to Baker as she left his room.
Darryl Williams, Senior Financial Adviser, took off his reading glasses and sat back in his chair. It was clear from his expression that he expected them to introduce themselves, and Yvonne did exactly that.
He indicated the chairs on the other side of his imposing Victorian desk. Yvonne had the urge to stay standing but thought better of it. Dewi pulled his chair out, scraping it noisily over the floor. The DI felt a perverse pleasure at this, and the pained wince from Williams.
Although in his early fifties, he appeared lean, and the broad shoulders gave the appearance of a strong man. His tweed jacket looked a little dated, with its brown leather elbow patches. Yvonne wondered if he wore it deliberately, to convey a certain image.
DI Giles BoxSet Page 50