Fatal Love

by Michael Patterson

  ‘Did any of you gentlemen consider yourself to be close friends with Mr Burton?’ asked Milner.

  It was the man who had spoken first who responded. ‘Not really. To be quite frank with you, he wasn’t the type of person who seemed to have many close friends. There were a few people who he played with regularly, but, other than that, he kept himself to himself.’

  ‘But I understand Mr Burton held quite a senior position within the club?’ asked Tom. ‘Surely that meant he met lots of people?’

  ‘Yes, he did, but that doesn’t mean they were all friends. Mr Burton had only been a member for a few years. Many others have been members for considerably longer than that. Mr Burton provided financial help to the club at a time when it was in difficulties. But this club has been around for over a hundred years and, God willing, will be around for another hundred years.’ He paused, before continuing. ‘During that time, the club has experienced far worse. Do you know, Detective Chief Inspector, that a few German bombs were dropped here during the last war? If it could survive that then I’m certain it could survive anything.’

  ‘Do I take it you didn’t especially like Mr Burton?’ asked Milner.

  ‘Personally, I didn’t dislike him, but that’s not to say I would have gone out of my way to spend time in his company.’

  ‘Why was that?’

  ‘This is a very traditional golf club and that’s the way we like it. Personally, I don’t like change. As I said, we have survived for a very long time without having to make the changes which some of the other clubs felt they had to, just so they could claim to be modern. Mr Burton thought differently.’

  ‘In what way did he think differently?’ asked Milner.

  ‘Well, for starters he wanted to completely refurbish the clubhouse.’

  ‘Wouldn’t that be a good thing?’ asked Milner, clearly puzzled as to why there would be any objections.

  ‘We like it this way. It’s what gives the club its unique atmosphere. If I wanted to be a member of a more modern club, then I’d join . . . well, I’d go elsewhere.’

  ‘Surely any refurbishment would cost a considerable amount of money, especially given the age of the club,’ suggested Tom. ‘As it had only recently experienced financial problems, where would that money come from?’

  ‘That’s a very good question. I suppose we’ll never know now.’

  ‘Yes, I think that might be correct,’ said Tom. He then moved on to another issue. ‘Presumably you all knew about the altercation between Mr Burton and Mr Preston. How did you feel about that?’

  This time it was one of the others, who so far hadn’t said anything, who answered. He was a tall man, probably in his early sixties, with a full head of almost white hair. ‘It was unseemly. Whatever their differences, they shouldn’t be settling them in the car park. This is a golf club, not a boxing ring.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Tom. ‘I didn’t catch your name.’

  ‘I’m Nigel Robertson and I’m the club captain,’ he answered in a way which suggested a degree of not just pride but also authority.

  ‘I understand Mr Preston has now left the club,’ said Tom.

  ‘He most certainly has. Frankly, after such behaviour, the club had no choice but to ask him to leave.’

  Tom couldn’t suppress his surprise. ‘I thought he left of his own volition.’

  ‘He was asked to leave. We can’t condone that sort of behaviour,’ Mr Robertson replied.

  ‘So why wasn’t Mr Burton asked to leave?’

  ‘The committee’s view was that, in this particular instance, Mr Burton had been the victim. He might have had a relationship with Mr Preston’s wife, but the physical attack on him, within the club grounds, was totally unjustified. We are not here to judge people’s morals, just their behaviour,’ Mr Robertson said. ‘Now, unless you have any more questions, we would like to get back into the warmth of the clubhouse.’

  As neither Tom nor Milner had anything else to say to them, they all headed in the direction of the clubhouse, leaving the two of them alone alongside the eighteenth green.

  ‘It was interesting how no one expressed any regret about Mr Burton’s death,’ said Tom. ‘I thought you said Mr Preston had told you he left voluntarily?’

  ‘He did. He certainly didn’t mention to me, when I spoke with him, that he’d been asked to leave,’ said Milner.

  ‘It’s becoming apparent he’s not the only one who hasn’t been telling us the full story. Let’s go and hear what Mr White is willing to now tell us.’

  Chapter 23

  They were now back in the same small room where they had first met Tony Cook and Roger White.

  Tom decided the time had long gone for any introductory niceties. ‘Mr White, could you please tell us why you sold all of your shares to Mr Burton?’

  ‘I thought I’d already told you,’ Mr White immediately answered.

  ‘You didn’t so much as tell us you’d sold them. What you implied was that you had about ten percent. In fact, you now have less than one percent.’

  ‘I’m sorry, then, if I misled you. It certainly wasn’t intentional.’

  Tom was unconvinced, but was willing, for the moment, at least, to let it go. ‘But you haven’t yet answered my question.’

  Mr White looked in the direction of Mr Cook. ‘Tony. Would you mind giving us a few moments?’

  As Mr Cook was walking out of the room, Tom said, ‘Please don’t go too far, Mr Cook. I’d like to speak with you after we have finished with Mr White.’

  Mr Cook didn’t answer, but the level of tension in the room had suddenly increased significantly. When he had left, neither Tom nor Milner spoke, letting the silence do their work for them, and it soon had the desired effect as it was Mr White who finally broke the silence. ‘I’m really not sure why this might be of any interest to you in your inquiries. It was purely a private transaction.’

  By now, Tom was in no mood for all the continued ambiguity and obfuscation, and his tone clearly reflected this. ‘The last time we met we were investigating a missing person. Since then it has turned into a murder inquiry. So I think I am the best judge of whether or not it’s of interest. For the last time, I’m asking why you sold most of your shares to Mr Burton. If you don’t answer this time, I can only assume you are not willing to tell me. And if that’s the case then I will take it that you have something to hide. Do I make myself clear?’

  Tom’s change to a much harder tone had the desired effect. ‘It’s all a bit embarrassing, really,’ Mr White replied, his earlier air of superiority now seemingly gone. ‘That’s why I would rather tell you in private.’

  Tom was not about to help him and so remained silent.

  ‘Earlier this year I suddenly found myself having to find a considerable amount of money in order to pay off a debt. I knew, of course, what Glyn did, and that he was quite a wealthy man, and so approached him to see if he would help me.’

  ‘And that’s why you sold your golf club shares to him, then?’ asked Milner.

  ‘Eventually, yes, but initially I simply asked if he could loan me the money.’ He quickly added, ‘I did, though, offer to pay interest on the loan. I might have made some bad decisions, but I’m not the sort of man who shirks his responsibilities.’

  ‘How much were you asking for?’ asked Tom.

  ‘It was about £150,000,’ he answered, a little uncomfortably.

  ‘Was it a gambling debt?’ Tom asked.

  ‘It was, yes. But how did you know that?’

  ‘I didn’t,’ he replied. ‘Just a bit of an educated guess.’

  ‘I’d got myself into difficulties at one of the London casinos. The debt gradually built up, and eventually they would no longer offer me any credit and asked for the debt to be settled in full. That had never happened before. I’d run up losses a few times previously, but had always managed to recover the situation and pay them off. So I was confident I could do it again. All I needed was access to funds and a little time.’
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  ‘And Mr Burton was willing to give you this?’ asked Tom.

  ‘Yes, well, not initially,’ he answered. ‘I was looking for a straightforward loan, but Glyn wasn’t keen. Instead, he suggested buying my club shares.’

  ‘And how did you feel about that?’

  Mr White was now regaining his earlier confidence. ‘I would have done everything possible not to have had to do it. This golf club means a lot to me, Detective Chief Inspector Stone. I’ve been a member here almost from the day I first started playing golf. My father had been a member before me, and many of the best moments in my life were spent playing with him here.’ He paused. ‘It might be difficult for you to imagine, but this golf club has been my life. So you can see just what a decision it was when I agreed.’

  ‘Did anyone else know about your agreement?’ asked Milner.

  ‘No. No one. As you can appreciate, it was not something which I wanted the other members to know about. My plan was always to buy back the shares once I got my finances back in order.’

  ‘And have you got them back in order?’

  ‘Not yet, but things certainly look much better than they did. I had an agreement with him which basically allowed me to buy back at least some of the shares within six months of the date he bought them from me.’

  ‘When was that date?’ asked Tom.

  ‘The six-month deadline is in two weeks’ time,’ he answered.

  ‘So did you recently discuss it with Mr Burton?’

  ‘We had a couple of brief conversations, that’s all. I was hoping to finalise it shortly with him, but . . .’ His voice tailed off.

  ‘But then he died,’ said Tom, finishing his sentence for him. ‘And what was his reaction to those brief conversations?’

  Mr White seemed to hesitate momentarily. Finally, he answered. ‘He said he couldn’t discuss it at that moment, but should be in a position to do so shortly. I was hoping to have that discussion with him during our round of golf. But, as you know, we didn’t play due to the fog.’

  Tom remained silent for a while, before saying, ‘Do you have a copy of your agreement?’

  Roger White looked at Tom quizzically. ‘Why would you want to see it? It was never a formal contract, just something we both put together and then signed.’

  ‘I understand, but I’d still like to see it if you don’t mind,’ Tom said. ‘Incidentally, have you spoken with Mr Burton’s widow about it? Everything will now pass to her, including, presumably, this arrangement.’

  Once again, Mr White looked at Tom with a sense of puzzlement, before simply saying, ‘I didn’t think the time was right. I assumed she had more important things on her mind than this.’

  Tom didn’t respond to his comment. ‘Thank you, Mr White. If you could provide DS Milner with a copy of the agreement as soon as possible, that would be much appreciated.’

  Mr White stood, and was about to walk from the room until Tom stopped him. ‘Please remain here, Mr White. We’d now like to speak with you and Mr Cook about another matter.’

  This clearly unnerved him. ‘I thought you said I could leave.’

  ‘No, I don’t believe I did,’ Tom answered, before adding, ‘DS Milner, would you please ask Mr Cook to come in?’

  Nothing more was said between them whilst Milner was out of the room.

  ‘Thank you for waiting,’ said Tom as soon as Milner returned with Mr Cook. He got straight to the point. ‘When we last spoke, both of you implied that Mr Preston had left of his own accord, as he wanted to spend more time with his young family. That wasn’t true, was it?’

  For a moment, Tom thought Mr White was about to say something. When he didn’t, Tom continued. ‘Nonetheless, thank you, Mr Cook, for calling DS Milner to inform him about the fight. It would, though, have saved everyone’s time if you had mentioned this when we all last met.’

  Still, there was no immediate response from either Mr White or Mr Cook, so Tom continued. ‘But we have just been informed by your club captain, a Mr . . .’

  ‘A Mr Robertson,’ said Milner, referring to his notebook. ‘Nigel Robertson.’

  ‘Yes, thank you, DS Milner. In fact, according to Mr Robertson, he was asked to leave by the club, after his public disagreement with Mr Burton. Why didn’t you mention that as well?’

  ‘To be honest,’ answered Mr Cook, ‘at the time, I didn’t think it was that important why he left. I suppose I was trying to spare him any embarrassment.’

  ‘Frankly, honesty seems to be the one thing in short supply when it relates to this golf club,’ answered Tom. Now he really had their attention.

  ‘And also,’ added Milner, ‘having spoken with Mr Preston, I got the distinct impression that suffering a bit of embarrassment would not unduly worry him in the slightest.’

  Tom was now in full flow. ‘Just so you are fully aware of the seriousness of the situation, Mr Cook, I will repeat what I said to Mr White when you were out of the room. This is now a murder investigation. The time for playing games, or holding back relevant information, has now passed. If there is anything else either of you wishes to tell us, then now is a good time. Conversely, if we subsequently find out that you have still been withholding information, then you could be charged with perverting the course of justice. So I ask you both, once again: is there anything else which you would like to say to us?’

  Tom continued to look at both men, but, when neither man answered, he continued. ‘Mr Cook. Where were you between 11 am and 5 pm on the day Mr Burton disappeared?’

  He seemed to be genuinely taken aback by this question. ‘I’m not sure. It was a few weeks ago.’

  ‘I understand that, but, nonetheless, it was quite a significant day. The day Mr Burton disappeared. You must have thought about it since then.’

  ‘I wasn’t working that particular day,’ he answered.

  ‘So you do remember. Where were you?’

  ‘I was at home in the morning and then, in the afternoon, decided to go for a run. I’m training for the local half-marathon.’

  ‘And what time was this?’

  ‘I think I left at about two thirty and got back home just before it started to get dark. Just after four o’clock.’

  ‘That’s a long time,’ said Tom.

  ‘A half-marathon is a long way,’ he replied.

  ‘Did you go with someone else or by yourself?’

  ‘By myself.’

  ‘I would appreciate it if you could provide DS Milner with details of where you ran,’ Tom said.

  ‘Why?’ Mr Cook asked. ‘Don’t you believe me?’

  Tom looked directly at him. ‘I‘m not sure what to believe any more. Please provide DS Milner with details of your route. One other question. Do you own any shares in the club?’

  He seemed to be taken aback by Tom’s question but, nonetheless, quickly provided an answer. ‘No, I don’t. I’m an employee of the club, not a member. It’s only members who have shares.’

  Tom now faced Mr White. ‘The last time we were here you mentioned that you left the club at about noon and went straight home. Is that correct?’

  ‘It is,’ he answered.

  ‘And you stayed at home during the rest of the day?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Is there anyone who can confirm that?’

  ‘How dare you?’ he asked, his voice level rising significantly. ‘First you quiz me about my shareholding and now this.’

  ‘We are police officers, Mr White. A key part of our job is to ask questions,’ Tom answered, without any great emotion.

  His matter-of-fact reply appeared to have the desired effect. ‘I’m sorry,’ Mr White said. ‘I’m not used to having to deal with police officers. I think it’s affected me more than I thought.’ He shook his head. ‘I was at home by myself. My wife was away that weekend, visiting her sister in Chiswick. She returned home later that evening, at about 7 pm.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Tom. ‘One final question. Did either of you contact, or try to contact, Mr Bu
rton, after he had left the club at around 10 am?’

  ‘No,’ replied Mr Cook.

  ‘And you, Mr White?’

  Mr White’s hesitation was not lost on everyone there. Eventually, he said, ‘Yes. I called Glyn as I wanted to discuss buying back my shares. As I said, I’d intended to do this during our round of golf, but never got the chance.’

  ‘When was that?’ asked Milner, notebook in hand.

  ‘It was not long after Glyn had left the clubhouse. So at about five past ten.’

  ‘And what did he say?’ asked Milner.

  ‘He started mentioning complications and that he wasn’t in a position to discuss it at the moment.’

  ‘Did he give you any indication as to what the complications were?’

  ‘Of course I asked him that, but he just said he couldn’t tell me.’

  ‘That must have made you quite angry,’ said Milner.

  He looked directly at Milner and said, ‘Yes, it did. Very angry. But not so angry that I would want to murder him, if that’s what you are suggesting.’

  ‘I’m certainly not suggesting that, Mr White. We would need evidence first.’

  The look in Mr White’s eyes suggested real anger and so Tom intervened. ‘We are simply trying to establish the facts. As I said earlier, it’s what we do,’ he said in a tone designed to reduce the tension. ‘So, after that, you didn’t speak to him at all?’

  ‘No, I didn’t,’ Mr White answered, his voice now matching the calmness in Tom’s. ‘That is, I didn’t speak with him. I did call him later, but his phone went to voicemail.’

  ‘Why did you call him again?’

  ‘I wanted to arrange to meet with him, later that day, so that we could sort it out. But, as I said, it just went to voicemail.’

  ‘What time was that?’

  ‘Somewhere around two forty-five.’

  ‘Did you leave him a message then?’

  ‘Yes. I said I would meet him at 5 pm that evening.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘There’s a lay-by not far from the entrance to the club. I said that I’d meet him there. I thought it might be more private than meeting at the club.’