Web of Lies

by Sally Rigby

  ‘What about Andrea Wood? We should interview her and see if she knew him personally. Not only is she a celebrity, she also invested a big chunk of money. If we can talk to her, that is. She might refuse.’

  ‘Rob, my friend at the Met, might be able to help. I expect I’ll have to travel to London for the interview as I don’t want to wait until the weekend in the hope she might be visiting her home here. I’ll let you know once I’ve spoken to him and we’ll go from there.’

  Chapter 17

  13 May

  The next morning Seb got up at six and grabbed the lead from the side.

  ‘Come on, Elsa, let’s go for a walk before I have to work.’

  He drove to the Welland River where she had a good run around. It was surprisingly busy for so early in the day, but it was still enjoyable walking down by the river. It helped clear his head, and he was able to plan his next steps. Later, he’d give Rob a call to see if he could arrange an interview with Andrea Wood. It was Seb’s best chance of getting to see her without alerting her agent or management team, which he didn’t want to do at the moment as this was meant to be an unofficial enquiry. Also, as a TV personality, she wouldn’t want her dirty linen aired in public, if there was any.

  Sarah had invited him around for tea later so he could give her an update on the investigation. She’d sounded very keen to see him when they’d spoken on the phone which didn’t surprise him. Now the hard work of arranging the funeral was over and the boys had left, she had a lot of time on her hands. She needed to start planning her future, whatever that was going to be. He hoped that eventually the family would come around and see that what had happened wasn’t her fault and give her the support she deserved. But he imagined they would want the dust to settle in case the press was still hanging around, especially as the funeral had reignited media interest.

  That was the trouble with their family being so high profile. They were overly concerned with what the outside world might think and how it could damage their reputation. It wasn’t all selfish. Members of the family were patrons of various charities, and bad publicity could have an adverse effect on them.

  ‘Elsa,’ he called, spotting her playing near two dogs who were in the water. It wasn’t warm enough for her to go for a swim as it would make her arthritis worse. The dog glanced up at him. ‘Come on, girl. You know you can’t go in there.’

  She reluctantly ran back to him. Many people anthropomorphised their pets and he was one of them. But how could he not when Elsa clearly understood everything he was saying? And she made her feelings known to him.

  They’d arrived back at the house by seven-thirty and, after breakfast, he opened the computer and started researching into Andrea Wood. She was aged thirty-nine. Used to be a journalist and then worked in the newsroom for a local BBC station. From there she secured a position at an independent TV station, eventually ending up hosting their breakfast show. She was an attractive woman with short blonde hair, tucked behind her ears, and large green eyes. She appeared much younger than her age. Unless the photo had been Photoshopped. She’d been to York University to study English and was married, now separated, to a radio producer. Currently, she was dating a celebrity chef. Provided Wikipedia was to be believed, of course. He didn’t recognise her from the image, but that was hardly surprising, as he seldom watched TV, and never in the morning. Nothing in what he’d read set off any alarm bells.

  At ten-thirty he picked up his phone and called his friend and ex-colleague Rob Lawson, hoping he’d be able to assist.

  ‘Sebastian Clifford. Hello, stranger,’ Rob said, answering almost immediately. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Very well, thank you. I’m staying in Market Harborough at the moment.’

  ‘What are you doing in that dump?’ Rob had an aversion to any place outside of London, unless it was New York or Paris.

  ‘You’re such a snob,’ Seb said, laughing.

  ‘Anyway, to what do I owe this pleasure? It’s not like you’ve called regularly since leaving. Come to think of it, you haven’t called at all. I was beginning to feel I’d done something wrong.’

  When Seb had left the force, he’d decided to cut all ties. It was more of a defence mechanism against missing the career he’d forged for himself. He had missed Rob, though, as he’d been the closest friend he’d had at work. Had he made a mistake?

  ‘It’s complicated. I’m actually after a favour.’

  ‘Fire away.’

  That was what he liked about Rob. They hadn’t spoken for ages, but he clearly didn’t hold that against Seb.

  ‘Does your wife still work at the TV station?’

  ‘Yes, why?’

  ‘I want an interview with Andrea Wood who presents the breakfast show.’

  ‘What do you mean interview? Don’t tell me you’ve joined the press. I know your views on the media.’ He laughed. ‘Or do you want to ask her out?’

  ‘I’m working on a case and her name has cropped up. I don’t want to make a big deal of it, just speak to her quietly.’

  ‘How can you be working on a case when you’ve left the force?’

  ‘Between you and me, this is something I’m doing on the side for my cousin, Sarah. Her husband was Donald Witherspoon, and he died about a month ago. You may have heard of him.’

  He could trust Rob to keep it to himself.

  ‘I have indeed. He was the bastard who swindled hundreds of people in a Ponzi scheme and then committed suicide. A nasty piece of work by all accounts. And you’re related to him? Bloody hell. How on earth did the family take that?’

  Rob knew all about Seb’s family, as on one drunken night, when they were both attending the same training course, they had a deep and meaningful heart-to-heart. Seb trusted him implicitly never to mention their conversation, the same as he kept to himself everything that Rob had confided.

  ‘Let’s put this way. It hasn’t been easy, especially for Sarah. She doesn’t believe it’s suicide, and has asked me to investigate.’

  ‘Oh, so now you’re a private investigator? I’d swear that in the past you didn’t have any time for them. Have you now changed your mind?’

  ‘I’m doing this as a favour and certainly don’t intend on becoming a PI, as my views haven’t changed. Anyway, the point is that Andrea Wood invested some money with Donald, and I’d like to speak to her about it. I don’t believe it’s common knowledge, so I’m trusting you not to repeat any of this.’

  ‘We’re mates. My lips are sealed. I might be able to get you in there, not actually through my wife, because I don’t know if she could, but I do have another contact.’

  Excellent. He knew his friend would be able to help.

  ‘Sounds interesting, who is it?’

  ‘Just someone I know. Leave it with me and I’ll see if I can arrange for an interview, but I can’t promise anything, considering you’re not actually police. You’ll have to be prepared to go whenever it suits the woman.’

  ‘Of course. Who’s this person you know?’ he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

  ‘I’m not saying,’ was the cagey response.

  Seb didn’t want to push it. It could have been anybody, ranging from an informant to a friend and if Rob wasn’t prepared to tell him then it proved his general trustworthiness.

  ‘If you can get me in there, I’ll owe you one big time.’

  ‘I won’t let you forget it either,’ Rob said, laughing. ‘So you really like Market Harborough?’

  ‘I’ve only been here a few days, but it certainly makes a change from London. It’s quiet and pretty. There are lots of walks to go on, and the best thing is there’s no rush hour traffic to contend with.’

  He hadn’t realised quite how much he liked the place until saying it out loud.

  ‘You’ve only left the force a short while and now you’re turning into a country bumpkin. Mind you, you were never suited to city life. Not with your background and all those country pursuits your lot get up to.’

/>   ‘When have you known me to engage in country pursuits?’

  ‘You might have done if it wasn’t for the demands of the job, although … maybe not. That aside, I still think you didn’t fit in the force. Not in terms of doing the job because you were brilliant at that. But you never liked going out and letting off steam. I didn’t ever witness you being loud and crazy like the rest of us.’

  ‘We can’t all be like you.’

  ‘I’m not like that, now. That’s married life for you. That and getting older. It’s been great to hear from you. We’ll catch up soon. I’ve got to go as I’m due in a meeting. I’ll be in touch as soon as I’ve got any news.’

  Chapter 18

  13 May

  Seb spent the rest of the morning researching Donald’s social activities. There was plenty of recent publicity regarding the Ponzi scheme, but he was more interested in what the man did leading up to it, over the previous eighteen months and even further back. It seemed Donald was very active in the social scene and there were many photos of him attending events. Often Sarah was with him, but sometimes he went alone.

  In particular, Donald was photographed at charity events and would always bid for items in charity auctions. Interestingly, although media stories mentioned bidding by different people for items, rarely did Donald win. He mostly dropped out towards the end. A clever ploy to appear benevolent without having to pay up, Seb suspected. Donald had cultivated an image of being very wealthy and philanthropic until such time as it all imploded. After his death.

  Seb’s phone rang, interrupting his deliberations. It was Rob. Had he worked his magic already?

  ‘Clifford.’

  ‘You owe me big time for this one, mate,’ his friend said. ‘It wasn’t easy, but I’ve managed to secure you an interview with Andrea Wood.’

  ‘I knew you could do it. Thanks.’

  ‘The only problem is, it’s tomorrow. She’s on the telly from six until nine and after that she has a production meeting. But she can see you at midday. I’ve been told that the interview can only be for a short time, maybe fifteen minutes tops, as then she goes to her London flat to relax before going to bed early. She gets up at two in the morning every day to get ready for the show, so I’m reliably informed. It must pay well if she’s prepared to do that. Anyway, that’s what you’ve got to do. Okay?’

  ‘How did you find out all this about her?’

  ‘It’s called knowing the right people.’

  ‘Did you explain why I want to question her?’

  ‘Um … I implied that it was linked to a police matter.’

  Damn. That could prove to be an issue.

  ‘Why say that? You could get yourself in trouble if it gets back to the wrong people.’

  ‘I’ll deny it. The only person in trouble would be you for impersonating a police officer.’

  ‘Except I’m not going in as an officer.’

  ‘I was joking. Don’t worry, it’ll be cool. When you arrive at the studio, go to the front desk and ask to see her. Tell them you have an appointment and give my name as the person who organised it. There shouldn’t be any issues.’

  ‘So you will be incriminating yourself.’

  ‘You worry too much. After you’ve seen her, let’s meet up for lunch.’

  ‘Can you spare the time?’

  ‘Always, for you. There’s a pub around the corner from the studio. Meet me there between half-past twelve and one. We’ll have a good catch up.’

  ‘Can’t wait. Did you say it was just me, or did you mention that there might be two of us at the interview?’

  ‘How can I mention what you didn’t tell me? Who might you be taking?’

  ‘It’s a DC Bird, aka Birdie, from the Market Harborough force. She’s helping me on the side.’

  ‘I won’t ask how you managed to get the police to assist, though I’m not surprised with your charm. I’m sure it won’t be a problem and I’ll see you both for lunch, then.’

  Seb ended the call and sent a text to Birdie,

  Interview with Andrea Wood tomorrow in London. Want to come?

  After a few seconds, he had a reply.

  Yes. Call me.

  He called immediately. ‘You wish to speak to me?’

  ‘Well, yes, obviously.’

  ‘Why didn’t you call me then?’

  ‘I can receive calls but don’t want to be seen making a call because Sarge is hanging around and as I’m not working a case, he might try to listen in.’

  ‘You know that makes no sense. He could still wonder what this is about.’

  ‘Stop being so literal. I want to know what’s happening. Thanks for arranging it on my day off. How did you manage to swing it?’

  ‘I didn’t know you weren’t working. Our appointment’s at twelve and I thought we’d take the ten o’clock train which arrives at St Pancras station a few minutes after eleven. That will give us plenty of time to get across town.’

  ‘What shall I wear?’

  He frowned. ‘Smart casual. Why?’

  ‘We’re meeting a celebrity and I want to dress for the occasion. I might be spotted for some reality TV show.’

  Was she being serious?

  ‘This isn’t an audition. We’re going to be with her for fifteen minutes at the most. So wear what you want and remember you’re not to ask anything other than what’s absolutely relevant. This isn’t a springboard for a career in TV.’

  ‘You’re so boring. Here was me thinking that my life was about to change and you’re trying to ruin in.’ She gave a loud sigh, followed by a giggle.

  ‘Nobody’s twisting your arm, you’re welcome to leave me to go alone,’ he teased.

  ‘No chance, mate.’

  ‘I’ll pick you up at nine-thirty so we have time to buy our tickets, in case there’s a queue.’

  ‘You know we can get them online.’

  He’d already planned on doing that, but he didn’t want to tell her in case she thought they could leave arriving at the station until the last minute.

  ‘I’m not prepared to risk missing the train, so I’m warning you now. Don’t be late because I won’t wait.’

  ‘Not even one minute?’ she taunted.

  ‘Not even thirty seconds.’

  ‘I’ll be there on time. Just don’t knock at the door,’ she warned.

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’

  He ended the call and smiled to himself.

  The reason he’d said nine-thirty was to allow for her inevitable lateness.

  He was looking forward to meeting up with Rob for lunch and have a catch-up. It would be interesting to see his take on Birdie.

  He suspected they’d get on very well.

  Chapter 19

  14 May

  Birdie ran from the bathroom to her bedroom, quickly peeping out of the window. Crap. Clifford was there already. Typical. Just one day, she might actually be on time. It wasn’t that she’d got up late, well, only a few minutes after falling back to sleep when her alarm went off. But even so, she thought she’d allowed herself sufficient time to get ready.

  She ran back to the mirror, picked up the brush, and tugged at her hair. It was even worse than usual. She grabbed a hairband and tied it back, as there wasn’t time for her to coax it into shape. She’d made an effort with her make-up and worn a pair of dark flared jeans, with a short, ribbed cardigan over a white T-shirt. On her feet she had a pair of grey suede ankle boots with a two-inch heel. At least then she wouldn’t look quite so miniscule beside Clifford.

  She grabbed her handbag from the bed, ran down the stairs and out the front door. Glancing at her phone on the way, she was pleased to see that she was only one minute late. It had to be a record. She opened the door and got in.

  ‘I made it on time,’ she said, grinning at Clifford, as she fastened her seat belt.

  ‘I was just about to leave.’

  ‘Yeah, of course you were. I’m only one minute late. Not even that.’

  ‘I told yo
u I wasn’t prepared to wait beyond nine-thirty.’

  ‘And I knew you didn’t mean it.’ She didn’t know that at all, but she didn’t want him to realise that. ‘Well, come on, let’s get a move on.’ He started the engine and headed down the road. ‘Am I smart casual enough?’ She ran her fingers down her jeans. They were new, and she’d been dying to wear them somewhere special.

  ‘Spot on,’ he said.

  ‘You couldn’t bring yourself to dispense with the tie, I see. Or is that your definition of smart casual?’

  ‘It’s what I would usually wear for work,’ he said, shrugging. ‘Plus, I hardly had any clothes with me when I arrived, as I had no intention of staying this long.’

  ‘I’ll take you shopping after the interview if you like? Make you all trendy?’

  He glanced at her, an unreadable expression on his face. ‘Thanks, but I’m okay.’

  ‘I didn’t have time for breakfast,’ she said, changing the subject.

  ‘That’s a surprise,’ he said, giving a wry smile. ‘We don’t have time to stop at whatever café you were thinking of.’

  She laughed. It was going to be a fun day.

  They made it to the station in under ten minutes.

  ‘See, we’ve got plenty of time to park and get our tickets,’ she said.

  ‘Actually, I got them online,’ he said. ‘If I’d told you, you’d have been even later.’

  ‘That’s so not true,’ she said, scowling and refusing to admit he was right.

  ‘You’ve now got time to buy something to eat from the café while I park. I’ll meet you there.’

  She jumped out of the car and headed into the small café inside the station. She stood at the back of the short queue and opened her bag. Crap. She’d left her purse on the bed, after taking it out to make sure she’d got everything she needed.

  She left the café and went towards the main station entrance to wait for Seb. After a few minutes, she could see him heading in her direction and so ran outside to meet him.