“It’s important to remember that in blackmail cases, around half of the claims are untrue,” Malcolm said, keen to get Kate back onto the track they had discussed. “So, he may not have been doing anything at all. But there are a series of payments to an account in Indonesia that are consistent with blackmail.”
“Have you got any ideas at all, Annette?” Kate asked.
Annette turned away from Malcolm to face Kate before replying.
“I have absolutely no idea.”
52
Annette’s heart was thumping so hard in her chest she was surprised that she couldn’t hear it. She looked at Kate and Malcolm in turn.
“Are you sure, Annette?” Kate asked. Annette didn’t trust herself to speak again, so she just nodded. The policewoman looked at her for a few seconds before making a note in the pad she had balanced on her knee. The four of them sat in silence, but Annette knew that this was a tactic the police used a lot. Say nothing and wait for whoever they were interviewing to fill the void. Gareth had told her. He had also told her not to fall for it.
“Well in that case,” Malcolm said with a resigned air a few moments later, “there’s probably nothing more that we can do.”
“You’re sure you can’t think of anything?” Kate asked. Annette stared at her, just wanting the woman out of her house.
“My husband taught scuba diving,” she said. “I doubt very much he got up to anything that would make someone want to blackmail him. He was too bloody lazy.”
“Where were these payments to, Malcolm?” Gareth asked. “Have you traced the account and who owns it?”
“No,” Malcolm replied. “I’ve spoken to the NCA, and they don’t think the Indonesia police will be that interested.”
“So they could be to, I don’t know, a cat sanctuary out there?” Despite the seriousness of the situation, Annette suppressed a smirk at Gareth’s suggestion. The idea of Philip giving money to a cat sanctuary was laughable. She looked over at the policewoman and could see she was angry. Whether it was with her or Gareth, she wasn’t sure.
Malcolm got to his feet, followed by Kate. Thank God, Annette thought. It’s finally over.
“Thank you for your time, Mrs McGuire. Gareth.” He took a few steps toward the door. “If you think of anything else, please get in touch. DC Hunter? I’ll meet you at the car.”
Annette saw a look of confusion cross the policewoman’s face, but she didn’t reply other than to say goodbye to Annette and Gareth. Malcolm waited until she had left the room before making his own way to the front door. As he did so, he whispered something to Gareth.
She watched from the lounge window as the two men walked down the path toward her gate. Gareth had followed Malcolm out, no doubt at his request, and they stopped half-way down the garden. A moment later, after a hurried conversation, the policeman left and Gareth returned.
“What did he just say?” Annette asked the second he walked back into the house.
“He knows, Annette,” Gareth replied. “I just asked him if he knew what Philip was being blackmailed over. He said he did, and then he said that so did I.”
“Fuck,” Annette whispered.
“He also asked if you knew.”
“What did you say?”
“Nothing,” Gareth replied. “Nothing at all.”
“Jesus, I need a glass of wine.”
Annette went into the kitchen and grabbed herself a glass, asking Gareth if he wanted a drink.
“I’ve got some beer if you’d prefer it?”
“No thanks, Annette,” he replied. “I’m driving. Let me just text Laura. She’s waiting in my truck around the corner.”
“Why didn’t you say?” Annette called through from the kitchen. “She could have come in. We’d have outnumbered them then.”
“Long story,” Gareth replied. Annette looked at him curiously as she walked back into the lounge. He was distracted on his phone, but flashed her a brief smile. She tucked away the question of what he meant by a long story for another time.
“Gareth, does Laura know?” Annette asked, knowing in advance what the answer would be.
“She knows about Philip, yes, but not about the blackmail attempt,” he replied. “Of all people, she’s not going to say a word. Don’t worry.”
Annette thought that she should be annoyed. That was something that Gareth should at least have asked her about, but at the same time she was relieved that someone else knew. Particularly Laura. A few moments later, she heard a light tap on the front door before it opened.
“Hey,” Annette said as Laura breezed into the room. “Just in time for a glass of vino.”
“I’m good, thanks,” Laura replied. She looked at Gareth, and Annette caught the way they looked at each other. About bloody time, she thought as she turned away so they wouldn’t see her smile. “How did the interview go?”
“Not too bad, I don’t think,” Annette said, trying to sound enthusiastic. “They confirmed that they’re not taking any further action into Philip’s death.”
“That’s good, I guess. Did they say anything about his little hobby?” Laura asked. Annette stared at her, lost for words. Her face was full of sympathy, and at the same time, anger. She took a couple of steps toward Annette and stopped, putting her hand on Annette’s arm. “I can’t imagine what it must be like for you, Annette. Finding out.”
Annette took a sharp breath in and held it for a few seconds. The combination of Laura’s directness and sympathetic expression had caught her completely off guard, and she didn’t know what to say.
“No,” Annette replied a few seconds later, “I don’t imagine you can.”
“Listen,” Laura said, lowering her voice. “Why don’t we get together one evening for a few glasses and a chat? If you’d like to, that is?”
“I’d like that very much, Laura.” She pressed her lips together, determined not to break down. “Thank you.”
“So, what happens next?” Gareth asked. Annette looked at him, not sure whether he was talking to her or Laura, or both of them. He was looking at both of them in turn, and she realised that he was asking them both. Laura replied first.
“Well, from the legal perspective, it should be pretty plain sailing. If they’re not looking into Philip’s death any more, then it’ll be up to the coroner to rule it as misadventure. Then at least you’ll be able to move on, leave all this sorry mess behind you. If you can, of course.”
“Will there be an inquest?” Annette asked.
“Almost certainly, but I can’t imagine it will take long given the circumstances. The key thing really is the police not treating it as suspicious. That should make it a category two verdict, as opposed to a category one or three.”
“What’s the difference?” Gareth asked. Annette watched Laura as she replied, eager to hear what she had to say.
“Well, category one is natural causes. Category two covers suicides, accidents and misadventure. That’s almost certainly where Philip’s death will fit.”
“And category three?” Laura looked at Gareth as he asked this, and Annette saw a look of pain cross her face.
“Murder.”
53
“So how did it really go?” Laura asked Gareth after they climbed into his truck. He looked at her as he started the engine.
“Difficult to say. My gut feeling is that it was a fishing trip.”
“How d’you mean?”
“I think they were trying to get her to tell them about Philip’s little hobby, as you called it.”
“But why?”
“I’m not sure,” Gareth replied as he put the truck into gear and moved off. “I’m guessing that if they think she doesn’t know, they don’t want to tell her.”
“Let sleeping dogs lie, you mean?”
“Yeah, I guess. The bloke’s dead, after all.” Gareth drove on in silence for a few moments. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I am,” Laura replied. They were heading to his office to look at
Philip’s computer. Or heading to his office to watch Dave look at it.
“Only if you’re sure. You don’t have to.”
“I want to. But I still think you should give it to the police.” Next to her, Gareth sighed. They’d already had this conversation.
“Why don’t we see what we find and then decide.” It was the closest Gareth had come to agreeing to involve the police, and Laura was surprised at his change in perspective. “I don’t get why they’ve not just seized it, though. If they’re looking at him for paedophilia, then I would have thought they’d just take it.”
“It depends how hard they’re looking at him for it,” Laura said. “If they’re just suspicious but don’t actually have any proof, then they might not have a legal basis for seizing it.”
“Well,” Gareth said with a smile, “you should know.”
When they arrived at Gareth’s office a few moments later, Laura could see through the plate-glass windows that Charlotte was inside with Dave.
“This might be a bit tricky,” Gareth muttered. “We need to get rid of her for a while.”
“She doesn’t know?”
“God no. If we tell her it’d be like taking out a front page advert in the Eastern Daily News.”
“But you’re the boss,” Laura said, chuckling. “Just send her off on some fool’s errand somewhere. Paul does it all the time to me when he wants some peace and quiet.”
“How is he? Have you heard?”
“His surgery’s scheduled for Friday.”
“That’s only three days away?”
“I know. It makes me nervous that they’re doing it so quickly. You know what the NHS is like at the best of times. It’s hardly quick.”
Laura said hello to Dave and Charlotte as she walked into the office, ignoring the knowing smirk that Charlotte gave her. She obviously wasn’t the only one who couldn’t keep quiet. Laura shot an ominous look at Dave who flinched until she smiled to let him know she was only messing.
Gareth was standing by his computer, fiddling with the mouse. A few seconds later, the printer in the corner of the office whirred into life. He crossed to it and picked up some papers before stuffing them into an envelope.
“Charlotte, could you do me a massive favour?” he asked as he scribbled something on the outside of the envelope.
“Sure. What?”
“This is the report for Mr Wells. I did an initial assessment for him the other day. Could you drop it round to him?”
“Why don’t you post it like all the others?” Charlotte replied, looking irritated. Laura hid a smile at her response.
“Because he’s a new client who I’m trying to impress, and I think that he’d be impressed by you.”
“You’re such a bullshitter, Gareth Dawson,” Charlotte said, her apparent irritation turning to a broad smile. He frowned and Laura burst out laughing. “How long do you need me out of the way for?”
“Er, a couple of hours?”
“Sure. I’ll nip to the gym then.” She plucked the letter out of Gareth’s hand. “After I’ve given Mr Wells a cheeky look down the front of my top.”
“God, don’t do that, Charlotte,” Dave replied, not looking up from the computer screen that he was engrossed in. “He must be in his eighties. You’ll give him a bloody heart attack and kill him.”
“At least he would die happy, Dave. You of all people should know that.” Charlotte turned and flounced her way out of the office.
“Is she always like that?” Laura asked when the door swung shut behind her. She was still laughing, and when both Gareth and Dave said yes at the same time, she laughed even harder. It didn’t last long, though. When Dave got up and retrieved Philip’s laptop from the safe, Laura felt the smile dissolve from her face. She stared at it, suddenly nervous about what they might find on the machine. It looked a lot more menacing than it had before.
Dave opened the laptop and pressed the power button. The computer chimed as it started up, and Laura moved a chair so she could sit next to him. She looked at him and he gave her a quick smile. Laura knew it was meant to reassure her, but it didn’t. She suddenly wondered if she really wanted to be here.
“Laura, you don’t have to do this,” Gareth said as if he had read her mind. She shook her head at him and stared at the screen. Laura didn’t want Gareth seeing anything that she had not seen, and if they did find anything on there, then she wanted to know what it was. Her tolerance for not going to the police was pretty low. Any suggestion of child pornography on the thing and that would be that. She would be telling the police, whether Gareth wanted her to or not.
“No password,” Dave muttered as the home screen appeared. There was the usual windows background—Philip hadn’t changed it from the default one—and a series of icons were lined up neatly. It looked remarkably similar to Laura’s work computer. “I would have expected there to be something, even if to keep casual browsers away from it.”
“Like Annette?” Laura asked as Dave’s fingers flew across the keyboard.
“Yeah, guess so.” He inserted a small thumb drive into a USB slot on the side of the computer. When the laptop recognised it, he clicked on the icon and Laura watched him open up a programme on the thumb drive. A black window appeared and a few seconds later, a bunch of white text appeared and started scrolling its way down the screen. Laura leaned in to the laptop, but she couldn’t understand any of the text as it flashed past. Partly because it was moving so quickly, but predominantly because it was line after line of computer code.
“What are you doing, Dave?” Laura asked. He didn’t answer, but started humming a tune. Laura had to listen for a few seconds before she recognised it as an old song. Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do. She started singing along under her breath before stopping. “Dave?”
“I am putting myself to the fullest possible use, which is all any conscious entity can ever hope to do,” Dave replied, a faint smile on his face. Laura frowned. She had no idea what he was talking about and, as she looked at Gareth, she realised that he hadn’t either.
“He does this sometimes,” Gareth said in a stage whisper. “Goes all weird.”
“Philistines,” Dave replied. “The pair of you. No appreciation of true art.” He turned to Laura and grinned, his teeth slightly too white in the bright fluorescent lights of the office. “I am fishing, that’s what I’m doing. And I’m rather good at it.”
54
Annette opened a large drawer in her kitchen and started rummaging through it. Philip used to refer to it as his man drawer after a sketch by an overweight British comedian about a drawer in every house full of useless things such as keys to unknown doors and once used tools from flat pack furniture. In Philip’s version of a man drawer were also a selection of old mobile phones and their chargers, no longer needed but kept just in case they were.
She pulled out an old Nokia phone and, a few seconds later, it's accompanying charger. Annette plugged in and waited for a few seconds to make sure it was charging properly before grabbing her coat and leaving the house.
The weather outside was a perfect spring day. Annette enjoyed the sun on her face as she walked to the corner shop, realising that apart from the odd run out to Tesco’s for food and booze when she couldn’t get a home delivery slot, she had barely left the house since finding out about Philip’s death. As she walked, Annette thought about maybe going up to Wroxham later that day just to sit by the Norfolk Broads for a while. She had some bread that had gone stale in her kitchen, which the ducks and swans would probably appreciate.
“Morning,” the Slavic looking man in the corner shop said as she opened the door. Annette returned the greeting and picked up a newspaper from the stand, along with a sandwich and bottle of orangeade for lunch. “Will there be anything else?” the shopkeeper said as he rang up her purchases on the till.
“Do you sell SIM cards?” Annette asked.
“Sure, which network?” he replied.
“I don’t care as long
as it works.”
He huffed and turned to pick up a SIM card for Vodafone from a stand next to the cigarettes.
“This one okay? It’s only a quid.”
“Yep, that’ll do,” Annette replied. “I’ll need some credit for it as well.”
“How much?”
“A tenner, I guess.”
When she got back to her house, Annette picked up the phone and disconnected it so she could remove the battery and change the SIM card. As she did so, one of her nails splintered when she was trying to get the plastic covering to the battery loose.
“For God’s sake,” she muttered under her breath, examining the nail carefully. It was yet another thing to add to the list of things that Philip had caused to piss her off. When she had finally replaced the SIM, she plugged the phone back in and powered it up.
It took Annette a few minutes to work out how to add the credit to the phone when it finally connected. She wasn’t helped by the fact that the phone actually had buttons as opposed to a touch screen, but she managed it with the help of the cheerful robotic voice on the other end of the line. Then she entered the number that she had been sent and saved it as a contact on the phone under the name R.
The previous evening, Annette had spent an hour or so going through her finances. She could afford the payment, but only just. It would clear out almost all of her bank accounts, leaving her with a couple of hundred quid until she got paid at the end of the month, but it would be worth it to make all of this go away. It would only be a short term financial problem anyway, as once Philip’s life insurance paid out, she would be sorted. According to her sums, she could probably drop some hours at children’s services if she wanted to, or stay full time and have some fantastic holidays.
Annette put the phone into her pocket and half-filled a carrier bag with bread. She had decided that she would go to Wroxham and sit by the river to eat her sandwiches. It was a lovely day, and she could do with getting out of the house.
Gareth Dawson Series Box Set Page 82