The Dead Call: A chilling British detective crime thriller (The Hidden Norfolk Murder Mystery Series Book 6)

by J M Dalgliesh

  "Is that a reason to kill? I mean, there are secondary sites as I understand it."

  "Yes, yes, of course," Tom said, gesturing for Eric to come in. The detective constable slid his chair closer to them, leaning his elbows on his knees, a notepad clutched in one hand. "Eric."

  "From what I've been able to find out, Prometheus Energy is in trouble. They've over-extended themselves with their expansion plans in recent years. They aren't large enough to operate the design and construction projects they do alone, few companies are. Therefore, it's common in the industry to diversify the portfolio and share the load when it comes to costs. What companies like Prometheus tend to do, is obtain the development licences and, once they have the go-ahead, they source other entities to form a JV."

  "JV?" Tamara asked.

  "Sorry, a joint venture," Eric said. "This results in a massive injection of resources in the form of expertise but more importantly, money."

  Tom picked up the narrative. "We spoke to Hansell and he was bullish about the project. He said contracts were prepared and ready to be signed, no doubt once the project was rubber stamped."

  "I've done a bit of digging around and as I understand it," Eric continued, "Prometheus has several companies interested in the JV, one based in The Netherlands and also one of the largest players in the sector which is co-owned and financed by the Norwegian state. But all of that is hanging on the ruling of the planning inspectorate due this week."

  Tamara frowned. "But surely, even if the switching station is ruled out, they'll simply move on to one of the backup locations. Right?"

  Eric smiled. "Yes… but I don't think Prometheus can afford that. Even if the resubmission is fast-tracked, you're still looking at a significant delay. Not to mention the additional lead times if those plans are also opposed. And I dare say they will be. The opposition groups will be buoyed by their success and, if there's any doubt in the revised scheme, they'll go at it."

  "Why the hurry?" she asked.

  "Because this is the third project in a row beset with problems," Eric said, looking to his notepad and flicking back a couple of pages. "Two years ago they opened a new hydro-power station in Norway. The hydro schemes over there are a massive part of their power generation fleet. It was the largest project Prometheus have been involved in to date, but a tunnel collapse within days of the official opening saw it taken offline for the following year. They couldn't meet their contractual obligations to provide power to the grid. It proved very costly. Besides that, they've been in litigation ever since with the construction firm subcontracted for the build. The latter cited design flaws as the cause of the collapse and denied liability. Until the courts rule, Prometheus has had to source the funds to recommission the station and employ new contractors. It's tens of millions in costs before interest payments are applied on the loans. The company statement accompanying the latest accounts document these loans as temporary. It looks to me as if they sought bridging finance ahead of longer-term loans and these payments are coming due."

  "Presuming the Norfolk Wash project is the third project you're talking about, what about the second?" Tamara asked. Tom could see she was intrigued with the direction they were taking. He stepped over and pointed to the top right corner of the board, tapping a picture with his forefinger.

  "This wind farm off the north coast of Holland, situated offshore near Haarlem," he said. "A number of companies in the industry are based in the city, and Prometheus Energy has close ties with several. There was a work-related death involving a maintenance contractor two years ago. A number of allegations were made that safety measures were being circumvented in exchange for speeding up the works. They were behind schedule and everyone was pushing hard. A whistle-blower came forward, along with the dead man's next of kin, claiming to have evidence of the breach in health and safety rules. Despite the investigation resulting in a large fine, the corporate liability charges collapsed."

  "Why was that?" Tamara asked, resting her hands on the edge of the desk beside her.

  "The evidence never materialised," Tom said. "The whistle-blower retracted what they alleged, offering no supporting evidence, and the family of the deceased fell quiet."

  "And this helps your theory because?" "Because I've spoken to the deceased man's wife last night," Tom said. Tamara fixed him with a stare. "She's local. Reluctant to talk about it."

  "And you think—"

  "She's withholding because someone's got to her," he said. "Not threatening, but they've bought her silence."

  Tamara shook her head. "Tom, that's a serious accusation to level without proof."

  He held up his hand. "I know, at this point it's a reach, but the woman has no income, no job. Eric checked her records with HMRC." He indicated Eric.

  "She hasn't shown up on the PAYE system for years, indicating she hasn't had any formal paid employment in that time."

  "But she has no shortage of funds," Tom said. "Now she didn't claim to have had a life insurance policy to me, and I'm willing to bet that she's either receiving repeated sums of money from someone or was given a large pay out off the books to ensure her silence. To be fair to her," Tom said, biting his lower lip, "her other half was the earner in the household and she was left widowed with a child. I wouldn't blame her."

  He looked at Tamara as she studied the information. She was intrigued, but he wasn't sure if she was fully convinced just yet.

  "Okay, let's see if you can pull me across the line," she said. "Where's the link to Beckett?"

  "Ah… we don't have one," Tom said. She looked at him. "Yet!" he added. "But Billy Tilson's widow had another visitor recently. Adrian Gage, and he was asking the same questions."

  Tamara glared at him. He knew what she was thinking but wouldn't say so in front of Eric. He'd promised to stay away from the Gage case, and he'd tried to an extent.

  "It's the type of story he would go after; corruption, bribery. This has all the hallmarks. Why else would he be calling on Tilson's widow?"

  "Eric," she said without looking at him. "Can you give us a minute?"

  Eric looked between them, raising his eyebrows as he read Tamara's expression. "I'll… get some coffees."

  Tamara waited until Eric had stepped out of the room and then she turned on him.

  "I’m sure you’ll have a good reason as to how you’ve found a link to a murder case you’re not supposed to be anywhere near! I thought we'd had this conversation and you understood—"

  "It's not like I went looking for it," he said. He could understand her reaction, but he bristled at it all the same. What was he supposed to do when a tentative link came to mind? "I wasn’t investigating Adrian’s murder. Hear me out before you go off on one, will you?"

  "Then explain to me how a link to the Gage case came up when trying to locate Mary Beckett's killer."

  "The pad!"

  Tamara frowned, her lips parting. "What pad?"

  "Adrian Gage left a note with his sister to pass on to me if anything happened to him. It was written on the same paper as a note he left for Alice last week. It was Prometheus Energy stationery, headed paper."

  Tamara raised a hand, indicating for him to stop. "Back up. Gage left you a note with his sister, saying what?"

  "Just to pass the paper to me. Nothing more."

  "And why am I only hearing about this now?" she said, scowling at him.

  He was thrown by her attitude, feeling his anger rising. His response was curtailed by Cassie entering in the background. Tom looked at her but Tamara only had eyes for him. Cassie picked up on the tension in the room, hanging her coat up slowly. Tom flicked his hand in her direction and Tamara looked over her shoulder.

  Cassie tentatively approached. "I would say good morning, but I fear I've missed something."

  Tom's eyes narrowed. "What did you do with the note I gave you from Carol Martins, Adrian Gage’s sister?"

  Cassie's mouth fell open. "I… it's on my desk," she said, confused.

  "You didn't tell m
e," Tamara said.

  "I haven't seen you," Cassie countered. "Why? What's going on?"

  Tom turned back to Tamara. "That's the link, right there. He was looking into Prometheus Energy, the cover up, the deal they were working on. Maybe he had something. He told his sister it was something big. He must have been close."

  Tamara took a deep breath, chewing on her bottom lip. She put both hands up, palms facing Tom, and fixed him with a stare.

  "Okay, let's run this through. Just saying, for the sake of argument, that you're right. If Gage had something on Hansell or the company, he killed him… for what? To keep the secret?"

  Tom shook his head. "We don't know who. It might not have been anyone at Prometheus Energy. It need only be someone with something to lose if the company goes to the wall. Which brings us to most of those who we've been looking at for the Beckett murder. Those with a vested interest."

  Tamara thought hard, her expression fixed. "Run them by me."

  "Well, you've mentioned Prometheus Energy. Locally, they have a minimal presence, but Liam Hansell is the one who visited Mary Beckett and is based in Norfolk much of the time. Although, he was…"

  "What is it?" Tamara asked.

  Tom grimaced, shaking his head. There was a nagging thought at the back of his mind, but he was struggling to tease it to the front. It was significant, he was sure. Eric re-entered the room, seemingly relieved to see Cassie was present, and picked up his pace. He didn't have any coffee in his hand. Tom beckoned him over.

  "Eric, remember when we spoke to Daniel Crowe?" Eric nodded. "His wife walked us out bemoaning her husband's concerns regarding the wind farm proposal for the switching station. She said he was frustrated at the weekend. Do you recall?"

  Eric thought hard. "Yes, but…" he shook his head, "I can't remember her saying anything particularly useful. Why?"

  Tom was about to reply, but Cassie interrupted at that point, flicking her eyes anxiously between Tom and Tamara. "Look, clearly I've missed a fair bit of this but." She glanced at Tom again. "We still have concrete forensics that put… Alice at the murder scene."

  Tom folded his arms across his chest. Cassie had been pushing the case against Alice pretty much since the body was discovered as far as he could tell. She was nervous about speaking in front of him, but he maintained his composure. He was confident they were now on the right track.

  "What evidence?" he asked calmly.

  "The lab matched the fibres of Alice's jumper to the ones found under Gage's fingernails," she said, shooting a sideways glance in his direction but focussing on Tamara.

  "And what else?" he asked. "Did they find any trace evidence related to the stabbing, blood spatter, DNA?"

  Cassie shook her head.

  "So, all you have is that she was there at his house," Tom said, failing to keep the dismissive tone from his voice. "We know that. She admitted it. But there's nothing to link her to the act itself, just supposition."

  Cassie rolled her eyes. "Your objectivity is compromised by your emotional attachment to Alice. It's obvious—"

  "And you're too narrow in your outlook. The easiest answer isn't always the right one, Cass!"

  Cassie scoffed. Tom made ready to respond but Tamara stepped between them.

  "Pack it in, the pair of you," she said. "Tom's right. We've got the time frame and evidence Alice was there. That's not in dispute. But," she said, looking at Tom, "Alice hasn't helped herself by not revealing why she was there."

  "Isn't it obvious?" he said. "The two of you work with me. Adrian was making a play to win her back over the course of a few weeks, maybe months," he said, his voice lowering as he spoke. Cassie and Eric averted their eyes from his, feeling his embarrassment. "If she opened up to you then there was every chance I would hear about it… and she'd made her choice. And she chose me."

  "You're sure about that?" Tamara asked. He met her eye, wondering if something had been said between the two women the night he'd met Tamara leaving Alice's place after an impromptu meeting. His gaze narrowed, but Tamara's expression remained fixed.

  "Yes, I am. That's what she told me… and I trust her."

  Tamara held his gaze for a moment. Was she assessing his judgement, like Cassie, questioning whether he could be objective? Then she nodded and broke the eye contact.

  "If you're right, then that would explain her reluctance to reveal the detail. Particularly if she couldn't foresee ever being responsible for Adrian's death. And if she'd called it off with him—" She shot him an apologetic look. He waved it away.

  "We just need to get to the truth. I'll handle the fallout later," he said.

  "Okay," Tamara said, "if she'd ended it all with Adrian Gage, she had no reason to kill him. If a lover kills their partner, it's usually the one who is scorned who loses it, not the one choosing to walk away. That's one reason I've struggled with seeing Alice as a suspect." She looked at Cassie, shaking her head. "What would she have to gain from killing him?"

  Cassie reluctantly accepted the logic.

  "Right," Tamara said, looking at Tom, "you've got us this far. What do you want to do next?"

  "Bring in Liam Hansell. Put him in an interview room and throw some facts at him, see how he responds."

  Tamara looked at the board one more time, rolling her tongue across the inside of her cheek. "Do it."

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Tom Janssen walked along the corridor clutching his notes, arranging his thoughts as he made his way to the interview room. This time, more than in any other case he had worked previously, his performance counted. On this occasion he was well invested in the results, more so than just to catch a killer. If his theory proved to be correct, then not only would they have revealed a murderer but the shadow of suspicion would leave Alice for good. Tamara gave him the option to sit it out, to leave it to her but he declined. She was capable and tenacious, of that he was in no doubt, but he wanted to see this one through. Not least because it was his theory, but that's all it was, a theory. There was little concrete evidence they could produce to support it. Never had he felt such pressure.

  Eric appeared at the end of the corridor, running to catch up with him. Tom was hopeful he'd already found something useful to put to Liam Hansell. He turned to the constable expectantly.

  "I've just got off the phone with an old friend of my dad's," Eric said. "I've not seen him in years, but he knocks around in the same circles as Daniel Crowe."

  "Anything interesting?"

  "The word around the golf club is that Crowe isn't quite what he used to be. From what his wife said to us, I reckon she's in the dark, but the rumour mill has him in trouble financially."

  Tom knitted his eyebrows. "I thought Crowe was semi-retired. He looks like he's doing all right."

  "Yeah, outwardly, that's exactly the impression he gives off but not so. At least, not according to my source. Crowe built quite a large land portfolio over the years, primarily agricultural blocking, but as his interest in farming waned, he starts banking plots for future development. Apparently, he's very much one of those bores at the nineteenth hole at the club banging on about how well he's doing. Seemingly he's been a little subdued of late."

  Tom considered the information and what effect it might have, if any, on the conversation he was lining up for Hansell.

  "Any idea how serious his position is?"

  Eric inclined his head. "He has a number of development sites that ran aground in the financial crisis a few years ago. He had to offload some land that went for a bit of a song by all accounts just to get by. Seemingly, this time last year he entered into negotiations with an American agri firm with a view to selling off that side of his business and it all looked good until this past spring. The deal fell apart. My source tells me Crowe thought it a done deal and was already moving on with his development plans. He's overstretched himself."

  "So, he might need this planning decision to go his way."

  Eric nodded. "I'd say so."

  "Okay, go
od work, Eric," Tom said, reaching for the door handle.

  "There's something else." Tom glanced at him. Eric hesitated. "Rumours are going around that Daniel Crowe is seeing someone. No idea who," he said, shaking his head. "I don't know if it's relevant, but thought I'd mention it."

  Tom smiled and opened the door to the interview room. Liam Hansell sat behind a table, an empty chair alongside him. Cassie was already in position, hands clasped together in front of her, waiting patiently. Tom glanced up at the camera in the corner of the room where two walls met the ceiling, the telltale red light indicating it was recording. Tamara was watching from another room.

  Liam Hansell's eyes followed Tom as he approached, pulling out a chair and sitting down, casually clearing his throat and gesturing for Cassie to set the recorder running to commence the interview. She announced those present, and Tom confirmed his name for the benefit of the tape. Tom read Hansell his rights, knowing full well he'd already declined the offer of legal representation. He was either supremely confident, naïve or, Tom hoped the last was wrong, completely innocent.

  "Mr Hansell. Thank you for coming in this morning."

  "I wasn't aware it was optional."

  Tom smiled but didn't reply. "Well, we'll try and get through the questions as quickly as possible and then you can be on your way."

  "Great. Ask away. But as I told you before, I don't see how I can help with the Mary Beckett case. I'm surprised I'm here."

  Tom opened the folder in his hands and withdrew a small plastic wallet. Inside was the note Adrian Gage had left for Alice. He placed it on the table in front of Hansell, whose eyes flicked to it and away again.

  "Do you recognise this?" Tom asked.

  Hansell nodded, pursing his lips. "It's a piece of paper?"

  "Headed paper with your company logo on it. Part of a notepad, we believe?"

  "Yes, it is."

  "Are there a lot of them around?"

  Hansell looked momentarily puzzled at such a random line of enquiry. Tom persisted.