Find Them Dead

by Peter James

  Then her mind went back to the phone call she’d had at home last night.

  Please, I’m doing everything I can.

  Oh, we know that, Meg. And we are right with you, doing everything we can . . . You will see tomorrow how we are helping you in other ways, too. We have made your life easier, but so much is still down to you.

  Was this bastard behind what had happened to the woman? It seemed just too coincidental. And how easy would it be to knock someone off on a country lane?

  OK, so she and Gwen hadn’t exactly become instant buddies, but she didn’t wish her any ill. And if these evil people were capable of causing this accident, did they have no limits?

  The eleven of them remained in the jury room. Some of them sat at the table, others stood to help themselves to drinks.

  Meg poured herself some coffee, then sat back down, looking around, thinking back to the words of her caller last night.

  You do have a friend on the jury.

  Which of you, she wondered?

  ‘Anyone have any views on what we heard yesterday?’ Mike Roberts asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Meg said. ‘It seems we might have a huge disagreement as to whether Starr actually met Gready that day.’

  ‘I agree with our foreperson,’ Hugo Pink concurred.

  Toby DeWinter chipped in. ‘Perhaps we should all be a lot more concerned about Gwen’s accident. She was the one who wanted us to cut short the trial and come to a “guilty” verdict – and now she’s off the jury. Doesn’t that worry any of you? It worries me!’

  ‘What are you saying?’ Mike Roberts looked at him. ‘That her accident wasn’t an accident? Are you worried that if we came to a “guilty” verdict you – and others on this jury – might also meet with an accident?’

  ‘Just saying . . .’

  ‘Just saying what?’ Roberts pressed.

  Again, the words of her caller came back to Meg.

  We have made your life easier, but so much is still down to you.

  How have you made my life easier?

  Wait until the morning, Meg. You’ll know then.

  By eliminating Gwen from the jury?

  Maisy Waller suddenly spoke, absently playing with her cross. ‘Don’t you think we should take a more forgiving attitude?’

  All the other jurors looked at her.

  ‘Forgiving what, exactly, Maisy?’ Roberts asked.

  ‘We seem to be jumping to a lot of conclusions, before we’ve heard all the evidence from both sides,’ Waller said. ‘Should we not be considering the Christian attitude of forgiveness here at all?’

  ‘What period of Christianity are you referring to?’ asked Edmond O’Reilly Hyland, looking at her darkly. ‘The period in history where they went on trial by ordeal? Plunging the accused’s hand into a vat of boiling water and, if it came out fine, they were innocent?’

  ‘Please,’ Meg said. ‘I think we’re all getting far too emotional. Maisy is right, we are still in the very early stages of this trial and it is far too soon to jump to any conclusions. We need to hear all the evidence from both sides before we can have an informed discussion.’

  ‘I agree,’ Harold Trout said.

  ‘So do I,’ said Pink. ‘I don’t think our judgement should be affected in any way just because a silly, arrogant woman fell off her bicycle.’

  ‘Excuse me!’ Meg interrupted them, loudly and firmly. ‘A man is on trial for immensely serious offences, which could not only deprive him of his freedom for many years, if we come to a “guilty” verdict, but also destroy his standing in his community and end his career.’

  ‘Very well said,’ O’Reilly Hyland interjected. ‘We are all sorry this lady had an accident, whether we liked her or not. But we need to focus on the evidence being put to this court, and from what we have heard so far I do think we need to be concerned about the strength of the prosecution’s evidence on this point.’

  ‘And not the defence’s integrity?’ Roberts queried.

  ‘That, too,’ O’Reilly Hyland conceded.

  62

  Thursday 16 May

  The atmosphere in Richard Jupp’s chambers was tense.

  The judge sat at the conference table annexed to his desk, opposite Stephen Cork and Primrose Brown.

  ‘We are one juror down. I have considered whether to discharge this jury and we start over – probably in three months’ time, which is about the soonest we could get everyone back together. That would be unfortunate for Terence Gready who will not be released on bail in the interim due to the severity of the case against him, not to mention time and money wasted for the State.’

  Cork and Brown looked at each other. Then Primrose looked back at the judge. ‘After this trial, Your Honour, I’m due to start a very complex case which could last several months. I would rather proceed.’

  Stephen Cork nodded. ‘I agree.’

  ‘Good,’ Jupp said and added, with only minor sarcasm, ‘We’re all on the same page, how nice.’

  The two barristers left the room.

  Richard Jupp wondered, privately, about the juror’s accident. Was there anything sinister behind it? In any major trial like this, judges needed to be aware of the possibility of jury nobbling. There was some history of that happening, particularly when big-time mobsters were involved. And this trial was, without doubt, high stakes. If the prosecution case was correct, Terence Gready would have more than ample resources to pay for anything he needed to secure his freedom. And he would, undoubtedly, resort to all means at his disposal. Although Gready was solely on trial for drugs offences, there were plenty of allegations floating around about his not being afraid to use violence.

  But at this moment, however, he had no actual evidence to give him any grounds for suspicion. Accidents happened. He felt happy to move on.

  63

  Thursday 16 May

  Five minutes later, the hearing resumed.

  Richard Jupp leaned across and addressed the jury: ‘I have made the decision, as we are now advanced with this trial, that we will continue with a jury of just eleven people. I’m sure everyone here in this court wishes the absent juror well, especially you, her fellow jurors, who will have got to know her by this time.’

  Then he turned to Stephen Cork. ‘You may continue with your next witness.’

  Cork stood. ‘I would now like to call Detective Sergeant Jack Alexander. He has confirmed that at the time of the arrest he was working as part of the Surrey and Sussex Major Crime Team, and acted as Supervisor on the raid on the defendant’s home on Saturday December 1st last year, and subsequently on his office premises.’

  A tall, slim man in his late twenties, carrying a bundle of documents and a small laptop, entered the witness box and took the oath. He had a calm and composed manner, and looked around the room, giving the jurors a polite, warm smile as he stated his name, rank and station.

  At that moment, Meg noticed Gready staring directly at her, as if fixing her with his gaze. She looked away, hastily and uncomfortably.

  Jack Alexander gave his evidence, describing how he had gone to the home address in the early hours of the morning on the date in question under the terms of a warrant issued by a local magistrate. He went into some detail telling the jury what had happened when they had arrived at the defendant’s home.

  ‘Now, Detective Sergeant, would you please tell this court what you found there?’ Cork asked.

  The DS spoke with a clear, educated voice. ‘Yes, the first items of significance, which a search officer discovered concealed inside a bedpost in a spare bedroom, were an SD card and a number of phones.’ He held up his bundle. ‘I have here the detailed report from Aiden Gilbert of the Sussex Police Digital Forensics Unit on what was recovered. The burner phones had never been used, and the contents of the SD card have been analysed thoroughly. To summarize briefly – the full details are in the documents that both the defence and the jury have copies of – they include email communications with a company called Schafft-Steinmetz based in
Düsseldorf, Germany, and receipts from this company for the work they carried out.’

  ‘And what was the nature of this work, Detective Sergeant?’ Cork asked.

  ‘It was to build, as inexpensively as possible, a replica – or perhaps a more accurate description would be a facsimile – 1962 Ferrari 250 SWB.’

  ‘And was this in order to try to pass off this fake car as the real thing and to sell it?’

  ‘No, the instructions to Schafft-Steinmetz were to provide as many voids within the chassis, frame, doors and roof as possible.’

  ‘And did the company at any time question the reasons for this?’ Cork asked.

  ‘Yes, they did. They were informed that they had a client who wished to use the vehicle for long-distance endurance rallies, and the spaces were for storage of fuel and provisions.’

  Cork nodded. ‘I see. And was anything else discovered on this SD card?’

  ‘There was,’ Alexander replied. ‘Over the past five years, there were instructions to this same company to construct four previous facsimile classic sports cars with a similar specification of voids. An AC Cobra, another similar Ferrari, an Aston Martin DB5 and a French car, the marque of which is now defunct, a Facel Vega.’

  ‘And where were all these vehicles destined?’

  ‘To LH Classics of Chichester, which the Financial Investigation Unit have established is owned, through a convoluted chain of offshore companies, by the defendant.’

  Cork nodded again. ‘I see – and to your knowledge were any of these previous cars entered into any endurance rallies?’

  ‘Not that I have been able to establish, no.’

  Cork went on. ‘Detective Sergeant Alexander, during your raid on the defendant’s home, did you discover anything else of interest?’

  ‘We did, yes. We discovered a number of prepaid travel cards, to countries that tallied with the offshore chain of companies that LH Classics is owned through, which include Panama and the Cayman Islands. The total amount of credit on these cards was just under £200k. We also found in a safe in the house a cash amount of £62,500 sterling, a further £87,000 in US dollars and a further £320,000 in euros.’

  ‘Well,’ said Cork, ‘don’t we all put a bit of cash aside for our holidays?’

  The remark made someone in the court laugh out loud, and Cork milked it for all he was worth, dramatically pausing before addressing the detective again. ‘Was there anything else, apart from the defendant’s – ah – holiday fund – that you found during this raid?’

  Jack Alexander nodded. ‘Yes, we discovered an amount of cocaine, which the defendant said was for his personal use. But more significantly, we found a key, very cleverly concealed in the false bottom of an aerosol fly spray canister in the garden shed. It ultimately led, after several months of investigative work, to a private safety deposit box on the premises of a company, Safe Box Co, on the Hollingbury Industrial Estate.’

  ‘Oh? Did you manage to take a look inside?’

  ‘We did, it was opened under warrant. It contained more foreign currency, for the countries I have already mentioned, totalling £392,000, along with six USB memory sticks.’

  ‘DS Alexander, can you tell us what was found on these memory sticks?’ Cork questioned.

  The DS replied, ‘Further information relating to the movement of high-value cars in and out of the country that did not contain drugs and were part of appearing to maintain a genuine business front. There was also significant information relating to LH Classics and the company’s bank accounts overseas.’

  Cork addressed the DS once more. ‘I am now going to ask you to tell the jury and the court in more detail about the information you have just summarized.’

  Jack Alexander then spent the next two hours going through in detail the information found on the USB sticks. As he finished sharing the information, Cork asked the officer to wait and invited Primrose Brown to proceed.

  Primrose Brown got to her feet. ‘Officer, you mentioned earlier in your evidence information relating to a German company, Schafft-Steinmetz. Can you confirm that at no time progressing these enquiries is my client’s name mentioned?’

  Alexander replied, ‘That is correct.’

  Brown continued. ‘In relation to the instructions regarding specifically the four classic sports cars, can you again confirm that my client’s name was not found anywhere on that paperwork?’

  ‘That is correct,’ said Alexander.

  Primrose Brown persisted. ‘Detective Sergeant, did you find anything untoward about these four previous cars, other than them being replicas?’

  He shook his head. ‘No, I did not. But, of course, they have never been examined.’

  ‘Would you consider yourself an expert in the field of classic vehicles?’

  ‘Other than my father owning a vintage Harley Davidson motorbike, no, probably not.’

  She nodded. ‘I understand there is a large and legitimate market in replica models of classic cars. Many of these are exhibited and raced at classic car events in the full knowledge they are replicas. So, you would not be aware of this?’

  ‘No,’ Alexander admitted.

  ‘You have also just said that LH Classics of Chichester is owned by the defendant through a chain of offshore companies, as if you were casting aspersions on such a thing. Many highly reputable companies operating out of the UK are in fact owned by companies registered abroad, either for tax mitigation or for other equally legitimate purposes. Do you have any reason to suppose my client had a nefarious reason for having this company registered offshore, if indeed he did? Our case is that he had no connection with this company.’

  ‘Beyond masking the ownership of the Ferrari seized at Newhaven Port, no,’ he conceded.

  Brown then spent the next hour running through the evidence that Alexander had given but was unable to sway his evidence or gain any advantage from what he had said to the court that would help her client.

  She paused for a moment. ‘One more question, officer. Is it possible that someone who visited the house could have placed these items in the post of my client’s bed? Can you discount that?’

  He replied, ‘No, I cannot.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said and sat down.

  Cork then rose to his feet. ‘Officer, how likely is it that the scenario my learned friend has just raised might have happened?’

  ‘It is of course possible,’ Alexander said, ‘but due to the nature of where these items had been hidden, I think it extremely unlikely.’

  ‘Thank you, officer, I have no more questions.’

  Alexander left the courtroom.

  64

  Thursday 16 May

  It felt like the defence had hit a brick wall, Meg thought, despondently, reflecting on today’s proceedings. She was in Laura’s bedroom, giving the daily treats to the rodents, as per the very precise list of instructions her daughter had left. A handful of dandelions for Horace the guinea pig, which he scoffed in seconds. She stroked him with her finger before moving on, hand-feeding some cucumber and pumpkin seeds to the gerbils. She did a quick spot clean to keep things fresh in between the deep clean she was instructed to do each week, then topped up the water in each cage. This whole process made her feel sad and worried. Laura cared for the welfare of each and every creature she kept and now, there she was, in danger, unaware and far, far away.

  She stared at a purple cushion with a large L embroidered on it, on the bed. Then glanced around the room with a wistful smile. Her daughter’s string of fairy lights; her stack of boxes that contained her precious, different-coloured trainers; the large map of the world; the clutter of her make-up and hair products on her dressing table; the fluffy rug; framed inspirational quotes dotted around the walls.

  IF I WAS ORGANIZED, I’D BE DANGEROUS!

  THE ONLY KIND OF SHIP THAT CAN NEVER SINK IS FRIEND-SHIP!

  IF YOU GO ON DOING WHAT YOU’VE ALWAYS DONE, YOU’LL ALWAYS DO WHAT YOU’VE ALWAYS DONE!

  Then the photograp
h on the bookshelf. Taken just months before that fatal day. All four of them doing a family fun run in Reigate, which they’d done with Nick’s brother and his family for charity.

  The memory twinged, painfully. She turned and looked out of the window at the rear garden. A thrush was washing itself in the birdbath. It was a gloriously warm evening. Just five weeks shy of the longest day. Normally she loved this time of year. Normally. But nothing was normal any more. It never had been since Nick and Will had died. The day her world had skewed sideways. And had remained sideways until last week when it had skewed again, this time completely upside down.

  It was 6.20 p.m. A long, light evening stretched out ahead. She should sit out in the garden and read a book, but she had barely read a single page since that first phone call last Saturday evening. Nor could she focus on anything much on television. Alison had been telling her for ages about a series called Succession. She’d tried the first episode a few nights ago in her attempt to switch off from all the horror of her predicament, but within seconds her mind had wandered.

  A drugs gang was watching her – and had invaded her home. Her daughter, thousands of miles away, was being followed around the clock and they had threatened to kill her if there was anything other than a ‘not guilty’ verdict. She was breaking the law and risked going to prison herself – not to mention trying to help a major criminal evade justice.

  The spinning wheel in the gerbil cage began squeaking; one of them was inside, turning it increasingly quickly, as if at some point, if he got fast enough, it would stop simply rotating and actually lead him somewhere – perhaps Mongolia, where most of them originated from, Meg thought with a faint smile. At first when Laura had given her the list, she’d viewed looking after these creatures as a chore, but now she found them comforting; grounding.

  She was so damned wound up. A run would do her good, she knew, realizing she hadn’t done any exercise for almost a week. Overwhelmed, suddenly, by everything, she sat down on the soft bed, feeling utter despair.