by David Beard
‘I have already explained we have not come here empty handed. The private equity firm is A Gate Services.’ It triggered something, ‘Mr Rollisade, as it is Henry Crossworth’s company, he is, I’m sorry, was, your boss. You didn’t know him or know of him?’
‘I am saying no more,’ he stood up, turned, went behind his desk and looked out of the window at nothing in particular. He had now become angry with himself as he realised his behaviour would raise suspicions with the two officers.
‘Well, that tells us everything.’
Emily asked, ‘You sacked an employee recently for stealing goods. Is that right?’
He turned and tried hard to be more controlled. ‘I sacked a girl from the accounts department who was fraudulently raising false invoices and pocketing the money. What the bloody hell has this got to do with your enquiries?’ He couldn’t resist stating the last remark but he instantly regretted it.
‘Well, if it is fraud, as you suggest, then it could mean a lot to us. Our main concern is that Samantha Peckham is Heather Lynley’s daughter,’ Emily explained.
‘We will call this a day, Mr Rollisade but there are a great many more questions you will need to answer later. It is clear to me that you are not of the correct frame of mind to help us with our enquiries, so, I will arrange for you to come to see us and bring your lawyer with you.’ Smalacombe took on a decisive role deliberately and decided to be pretentiously friendly, which undoubtedly he was not. ‘I think he will be very useful. It’s been nice to talk.’ He held out his hand.
Rollisade ignored the gesture and made for the door.
‘I am away on business for the next fortnight.’ Corndon, aware of what was going on, positioned herself in the most inconvenient place for Rollisade who could not reach the door handle without touching her. He hesitated.
‘You need to be very careful, Mr Rollisade. I would advise you not to assault a female police officer.’
Rollisade backed away. His face and bald head were puce.
‘Let me make this clear. I can stop you going away until I have interviewed you. I can caution you and do it formally, if you insist.’
‘You can’t caution me; on what grounds?’
‘Obstructing a police enquiry will do for a start. I can make the arrangements now but I will trust you to cooperate. We will see you tomorrow morning at ten at the police headquarters. If you don’t turn up you will be in serious trouble. If you prefer, I can arrange police bail.’
Corndon backed off and Smalacombe made a point of being the first to leave the office.
As they wandered back to the car they discussed the present position and it was clear to them that it was necessary to speak to Samantha Peckham once more.
‘What a shit!’ Emily observed. ‘You don’t act like that unless you have something to hide. So, what is the connection between the murders and Samantha’s sacking?’
Smalacombe screwed up his nose, ‘There are still too many gaps but there is one thing I am sure about. All of the investigations I have been involved in have had one thing in common.’
‘And, what is that?’
‘Somewhere along the line, there has always been a cock-up and that is what we have to focus on. Look, if there is a connection, as you suggest, surely, to sack her at the same time as murdering her mother is a dead giveaway. Pardon the pun but life is never that easy.’
‘Are you saying they are not connected then?’
‘No, but I think something happened that wasn’t part of the preparation.’
‘Premeditated murder?’
‘Absolutely! But, they wouldn’t have murdered Heather and then arranged to compromise her daughter all at the same time…would they?’
‘Plural?’
‘Mmmm, don’t know; probably.’
‘I see where you’re going. So, her sacking was out of sequence?’
‘No, too many people involved. The sacking was all arranged, but some prat stepped out of line, lost his cool and presented us with horrendous murders.’
‘The murders were out of sequence?’ This was fascinating for Emily. Smalacombe was beginning to piece together a scenario. She was not sure he was right but she was sure that he remained opened minded. She reasoned that he was presenting a case that needed to be demolished, which in turn would lead to another approach. ‘I am impressed.’
‘So am I. I have somebody who can use my bloody sat nav and explain the life of a kingfisher.’
Emily laughed loudly and returned to the discussion, ‘So, it is highly probable that Samantha’s dismissal is an issue here, and if we can resolve that, we will then be on our way to solving the murders?’
‘I think so!’
‘Shall we stop off at Pinhoe and speak to Samantha?’ Smalacombe nodded. They drove on.
*
Samantha Peckham welcomed them and invited them in. Her demeanour seemed more placid than when they last saw her and Smalacombe hoped that he would not to have to convey details that would upset her again.
Samantha went to the kitchen to make cups of tea after she directed the two into her cluttered front room furnished with easy chairs adorned in old blankets to cover up the worn fabric. Smalacombe removed the Radio Times and sat in one chair and Emily went to another, inadvertently she sat on the remote control and the television came on. For a moment there was confusion.
‘What happened?’ she looked at Smalacombe, ‘What have you done?’
‘I haven’t done anything.’
Emily stood up and looked behind her. She picked up the control and waggled it.
‘What a bummer!’ Smalacombe couldn’t resist such a remark.
‘Oh, you can’t help yourself can you.’ Emily laughed and decided to add to it, ‘What an ass!’
‘I am training you really well, Emily.’ There was much amusement between them and in reference to her comment it was a very good one, he assessed.
Samantha came in with a tray full and looking confused, ‘My! You are making yourself at home.’
Emily pressed the on/off button. ‘I’m sorry, I sat on it.’
‘Samantha, we have just visited Mr Rollisade. He was very cagey, very angry and, not to put too fine a point on it, he was lying.’
‘That doesn’t surprise me. He is an angry, arrogant sod for most of the time. He’s not very nice.’
‘He claimed not to know your mother or Crossworth.’
‘Lying on both counts.’ Samantha was quite emphatic. ‘Look, I think I have to explain to you my mother’s lifestyle. It won’t be easy.’ She stopped and prepared herself, as it was going to be extremely difficult to be complimentary about her. ‘Mum and I got on well, we were very close but, how can I put this…My mother was a free bird…,’ she looked at the officers and realised that that was not enough information. ‘To put it another way, one man was never enough for her. It’s hard to speak of one’s mother like……’
Emily sighed, ‘Look, if this is too difficult…’
‘No, you have to know. During my childhood I was surrounded by uncles, who only seemed to appear when dad was away, which was frequently. I must have been in my early teens before I realised the familial definition of the word uncle.’
‘That must have been tough for you,’ Emily sympathised.
‘It was harder for dad. Well, he gave up and left her to get on with it. I’m just trying to outline my mother’s attitude to life. She always worked hard but played even harder. Not so long ago she had an affair with a colleague at school. I have been wading through her emails trying to see if there are any clues I can pass on to you. So far, I have found a few things but there is stuff that puzzles me.’
‘Well, we are looking at these things ourselves, but maybe you can lead us in the right direction…’ Smalacombe nodded at the laptop.
‘Perhaps! You will not know the connections or who is who. I do and I am on your side. I’m better equipped and happy to do it. Anyway, I want to find out for myself. One thing you will be interested in i
s that the two of them, I mean Crossworth and mum, regularly stayed at the Woodland Hotel on Dartmoor.’
‘Now, that is interesting Samantha…’
‘And, she was there this weekend. That accounts for her body being found in that area I suspect. Do you know the hotel?’
For his amusement, Smalacombe waited for Emily to acknowledge that she did. However, clearly she did not. At last, he thought, this is something I know and she doesn’t. ‘Yes, I have been there many times,’ he said. He looked to his colleague, smiled and raised his eyebrows. He returned to Samantha, ‘We need to ask you about Rollisade,’ Smalacombe decided to change tack. ‘We’re not clear about his business.’
‘It’s an unusual one. They specialise in import repairs for the clothing trade. You would be surprised just how big a demand there is.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘All the big high street firms import clothing from the Far East, and other areas abroad, as you know. Sometimes, indeed it seems to me quite often, a consignment will arrive, but not exactly to the spec agreed upon or perhaps with faulty workmanship. There are three options. Return the stuff, which will be long and drawn out. All of the season’s sales will be missed; it saves the investment but there’s no trade. Secondly just throw it away; that is writing it off and that is a no better solution. Then there is the third option, which is to get it corrected in the UK and pass the cost back to the manufacturer. Most often this last option is the most cost effective for all concerned and the products are available for sale during the season. That’s what Rollisade does.’
‘Rollisade has a factory there as well?’
‘Yes. Some work is done in house but much of it is subcontracted out to a number of small units around about.’
‘It never ceases to amaze me how people earn their living.’
‘Well, it is big business.’
‘Did you have connections with the clothing trade before you went to Rollisade?’
‘My father is connected with it. I have contacted him, by the way. He specialises in cutting table equipment. That’s why he is based in Hong Kong: that’s where the business is.’
‘What is the name of his business?’
‘Stomely Holdings. Stomely was my mother’s maiden name.’
‘Wait a moment, sir,’ Emily stood up, ‘I want to check something in the car.’ She hurried out. Smalacombe and Samantha looked at one another and shrugged. They did not have to wait long. Emily returned with the file she received from Sheldon and she was looking intently at the list. ‘Crossworth had money in your father’s business, Samantha.’
‘Yes, I think he did.’
‘Did you know he was financing Rollisade and Sons?’
‘No, I didn’t. Well, well, well. That may answer some of the email anomalies.’
‘Is there anything else you can tell us?’
‘There are some things in mum’s emails to Crossworth that don’t make sense. I am working on it and I will let you know as soon as I have worked it out. I am also checking her older correspondence. Anyway, you have access to all of it as well. Everything is on cloud. I will give you any particulars you want and you will have everything you need.’ She went to the mantelpiece, retrieved a pen and an old envelope and returned to her seat. She wrote down her mother’s email address and password and other factors including her mother’s Facebook account and her own. She handed the envelope to Smalacombe.
‘Thank you. So, why did Rollisade sack you?’
‘I was confronted with evidence that I had raised invoices to a bogus subcontractor and pocketed the money. And, before you ask, no I didn’t. I knew that ledger inside out. It is just bloody stupid.’
‘At this stage, your problem is a civil one until Rollisade makes a formal complaint about embezzlement or something, but it would suit our purpose if we butted in.’ Smalacombe was deeply concerned that he had no way of charging Rollisade, as he was sure he would be flying off somewhere without his knowledge. He was also sure that he was withholding information. He desperately needed Rollisade on hand until his involvement was uncovered.
‘I can assure you that I have done nothing wrong but it frightens me. I don’t know how these things work but can I make an official complaint?’
This was encouraging for Smalacombe and saved him from a difficult proposition. ‘Of course you can.’
‘Look, I’ve been accused of a criminal activity that I have not committed. The so called bloody evidence he showed me must indicate that there is something going on. What I am saying is, I haven’t done it but somebody else must have. I suppose, in jargon that registers, I suspect there is criminal activity at Rollisade and Sons, of which I have been accused, and in my interests would you please investigate this?’
‘You will have to outline to us all you know in a statement.’
‘No probs. I am being targeted with this; I was sacked, and my mother was…,’ her voice faltered, ‘…what the hell is going on?’
‘We are well aware there may be a connection…’
‘May be?’ Samantha interrupted.
‘Well yes, there has to be and it justifies us to look into this.’
‘Thank you and I will cooperate. I have no idea why I have been framed for this. Why me?’
‘A good question and that is why we need to see him,’ Emily added.
‘I’m beginning to think, Samantha, that when you look for another job, the police may be a good option.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind.’
‘Tell me, did anything unusual happen, other than the invoices, in the days leading up to your dismissal?’
Samantha thought for a while and suddenly the question opened up something at the back of her mind. ‘You know, there was. I worked in an open office with private offices around it to house the bosses. On the previous Thursday afternoon, two blokes came in to the office and seemed to be in a great hurry. No one knew them and they burst through, out the other side and then came back. They asked one of my colleagues where Willy Whitecroft was. He is the chief accountant and was my boss. They burst into his office and they came out shortly after and literally ran out of the office.’
‘Would you recognise these men again?’ Emily asked.
‘Probably: they were suits, if you know what I mean, a bit scruffy, mid thirties and I’m pretty sure by their appearance that they were brothers.’
‘I’m sorry to ask you this, but we need someone to identify your mother: I am not clear where your father is or how he fits in. We have not had a response from him yet. If he doesn’t turn up we will have to ask you to do it.’
Samantha nodded. ‘He is still married to mum but I don’t know why he never severed the cord. I don’t have regular contact with him. I don’t know where he is but I assume, after my email, and yours, that he is on the way over here. I hope so. He was never an angry man; he just left to get on with his own life and a long, long way away in Hong Kong.’
Emily was impressed by Samantha’s strength of mind when she was under such stress. ‘You are bearing up well, Samantha. I know how hard this must be for you so do you need any support? Can we be of any help?’
‘I got it all out of my system after you left on the Monday,’ she looked away for a moment and then returned to face Emily, ‘I didn’t stop crying all night. What a time I have had. But, you’ve got to keep going haven’t you?’
Emily took her mobile and went to the photos. She selected one and showed it to Samantha, ‘Do you recognise this?’
‘Yes, it’s mum’s car rug.’
‘Thank you that is a great help.’
As they drove back, Smalacombe was very satisfied with the afternoon’s work. ‘We’ve picked up a hell of a lot more, Emily.’
‘It just makes it even more complicated, Dexter. I’m in danger of being overwhelmed with all this info.’
CHAPTER 5
Detective Constable Barry Sheldon and his colleagues had spent more hours than they cared to remember searching thr
ough Crossworth’s records, emails and other correspondence. The mobile phone had not yet dried out sufficiently for it to be working, which was another gap in piecing everything together. However, he now had sufficient knowledge of the man to convey to the team what sort of person they were investigating.
As he, Corndon and Smalacombe sat in the superintendent’s office, he felt pleasantly upbeat as it was he who was holding forth and informing the meeting.
‘Crossworth’s business was very unusual, mam,’ he began, feeling it necessary to address the group through the superintendent. ‘He was involved with private equity and venture capital, which is rare these days, in an industry dominated by big organisations. But, he thrived and was making great deals of money.’
‘But, not everyone can be a venture capitalist, surely?’ Emily queried.
‘No, there are rules; essentially, are you rich enough to do it? He inherited a big pile of money, which set him up. He specialises in quite small companies and often with what is known as stage two stuff. That is, for companies looking to expand rather than to be set up.’
‘So where does the company go now, as he is no longer there?’ Sheila Milner queried.
‘Big worry it seems. He has left everything to his wife and daughter, but his wife has shown no interest in anything.’ He stopped and looked around. He knew his next remark would have great impact and he wanted to savour the moment and maximise the effect. ‘Even worse, she doesn’t know that he had a daughter. I contacted her just after you left her, sergeant. She knew of the will but didn’t understand it.’
‘Why on earth did she withhold that information from me?’ Emily moaned.
‘Usual excuse. You didn’t ask her,’ Smalacombe explained.
‘This really gets to me. You think you are doing well and building a good relationship with someone and then this,’ Emily added angrily.
‘It’s called everyday policing,’ the superintendent added.