TWISTED CRIMES a gripping detective mystery full of suspense

by MICHAEL HAMBLING

  ‘Do we have the expertise for this kind of work?’ Rae asked. ‘I’m a novice at this type of sleaze. How about you?’

  He shook his head. ‘Me too. We’ll talk it over with the boss.’

  They left the council chambers and drove back to the Blandford incident room, where they told Sophie of their concerns.

  ‘It’s brainwave time,’ she replied. ‘I know the very person, and it solves so many problems. Leave it with me. I’ll have to get the approval of Matt Silver and the ACC.’

  Rae and Marsh left Sophie’s office. ‘Did she actually look happy just then?’ said Rae. ‘What’s she up to?’

  Marsh sighed. ‘Don’t ask me. I can never tell what’s going on in that brain of hers. She’ll have thought of some scheme that will be way beyond anything I could have dreamt up. Let’s just get back to work on this stuff and see what we can pick out.’

  * * *

  Sophie was on the phone to her boss, Matt Silver. ‘Can we poach her, Matt? It’s exactly what she’s been specialising in, over in Bath. She did commercial fraud last year and is doing this kind of stuff now. And Barry and I know her so well. It would be fantastic if you could get her on loan from Avon and Somerset. Can’t you think up some angle that would get her released for a couple of days? Even offer my services in part exchange? I’m anybody’s if the price is right.’

  She replaced the handset, feeling more cheerful than she had in days. It would be great if she could get Lydia Pillay back for a short while to help them with these complex council records. But her plans went further than that, though she hadn’t mentioned them to Silver. With Thompson dead, there would be a vacancy for a DS to work for Kevin McGreedie in Bournemouth, and Sophie had heard through the grapevine that Lydia had passed her sergeant’s exams with flying colours. If only she could be tempted back to this area! Maybe a few days with her and Barry, being reminded of happy times, might cause Lydia to consider the possibility. Along with a few gentle nudges, of course.

  CHAPTER 34: Business Proposals

  Wednesday Afternoon, Week 3

  In Long Lartin high security prison, Ricky Frimwell paced the length of his cell. What the fuck was going on? Why had everyone suddenly stopped answering his questions? Even his half-sister, Carol, the one with a bit of loyalty, had clammed up and was refusing to answer his calls. She’d even cancelled this afternoon’s visit, according to the warden. As for her twin, stuck-up Sue, she hardly ever visited anyway. Ricky was becoming increasingly convinced that he’d miscalculated with Sue. Too many principles and too many reservations, that was her trouble. She’d even got to his mum, infecting her with that holier-than-thou attitude. It was fucking upside down, those twins and their lives. Sue was too prim and proper, but was married to a would-be gangster. Carol shared his own outlook on life, grab as much as you can whenever you can, and she was married to a fucking councillor! Where was the logic? Women! He’d never get to the bottom of how their minds worked. Didn’t any of them realise he was just trying to help them? He wasn’t going to gain anything from all this planning, not stuck in gaol for the rest of his life. It was all for their benefit, not that they appreciated what he was trying to do. Maybe he should just give up on the scheming and settle for an easy life.

  The thought of that fucking cop still needled him. Bitch. He remembered when they’d first met, on that derelict farm on the edge of Poole Harbour. That look she’d given him. Even then she’d known. From then on she’d never let go. Like a fucking terrier with its teeth clamped on his leg, dragging him down. He’d desperately wanted a way to get back at her, and it had looked as though this could be it. Maybe he’d been too hopeful. Anyway, what did it matter? She was only a side issue. The main thing was to keep the properties in family hands. Was that plan still on? Had he misjudged things by telling Woodruff that Sorrento needed to be permanently removed from the scene after all his meddling? What had gone wrong? He couldn’t tell, not locked in a prison cell with all contact chopped for some reason. Something was going on outside. He could sense it.

  * * *

  Marilyn Mitchell walked slowly into the lobby of the Merwell Hotel in Poole and looked around for the entrance to the lounge. Very plush, she thought. Nice carpets, wood-panelled walls, smart staff at the reception desk. So this was the type of environment that Sue Woodruff moved in. Well, maybe she could get used to it. If she did agree to work with Sue, it would have to be according to the law. She wasn’t going to be persuaded to do what she knew was wrong. She ran a hand over her belly, feeling the bulge. A receptionist in a smart uniform asked if she needed any help.

  Marilyn followed the directions to the Rose Lounge, and walked through an archway into a sunlit seating area filled with roses in giant pots. She spotted Sue sitting to one side, sipping from a china cup, and walked over to her.

  Sue rose to greet her. ‘You look lovely, Marilyn. Pregnancy suits you.’

  Marilyn laughed. ‘Not sure about that. But at least I know what to expect this time. I’ve been through it twice before.’ She sat down heavily and allowed Sue to pour her a cup of tea and push across a plate of cakes. ‘Those look wicked,’ she added. ‘But hey ho, what’s to lose?’

  ‘Have you had a chance to think over my proposal?’ Sue asked.

  Marilyn nodded. ‘I have.’ She reached down and took some papers from her bag. ‘I have a few minor issues with one or two of the ideas, but the overall plan looks good and I’d be happy to work with you. I need to make clear, though, that I won’t tolerate anything illegal, or even slightly shady. Some of the things your Wayne has got involved with are a bit dodgy, and I won’t let Gordon get involved if I think things are suspect.’

  Sue shook her head. ‘No, no. I promise. I’ve had enough. I don’t think anyone realises what it was like, growing up with that half-brother of mine. Ricky always was an out-and-out bastard, even at home. Wayne’s very different, but I’ve had enough of him too.’

  Marilyn listened in silence.

  ‘We’ll concentrate only on the Woodruff places that we can run legitimately. The cafes, hotels, and maybe a couple of the pubs. The rest we ditch. I think I’ve got potential buyers for most of them. They pulled Wayne down, those places, with the lowlife that went there. I thought I’d seen the end of that kind of thing when Ricky got put away, but Wayne’s started going down the same route. I know what he’s up to. I’ve always kept him up to date regarding my family trust — he’s my husband, after all. But now he’s muscling in on it for his own ends. The thing is, the Woodruffs didn’t have any kind of plan. They just accumulated properties willy nilly. Wayne thinks the merger with Frimwell will be a way out. He thinks I agree, but I don’t. I’ve already started selling off the crappier properties, and I bought old Phil’s shares in Woodruff Holdings before he died. Wayne doesn’t know yet. I told Phil it would keep the business in the family. Phil didn’t know that half of the shares were already in my name. I’m now the majority shareholder, but no one’s twigged yet. Same with Midwinter Tide and the Frimwell trust.’ She took a long sip of tea. ‘I’ve worked for years to get to this position, Marilyn. And none of them realise it. I have all the power now, but I haven’t started flexing my muscles yet. I was waiting till I got the right people behind me. And that’s Gordon, you and maybe Justin. I’m finished with Wayne. He’s been off again with some floozy for most of the weekend, and I warned him last time that I wouldn’t tolerate it any more. He’s got what’s coming.’

  ‘Revenge may not be the best motive for branching out like this, Sue.’

  ‘I know that. I hated the way Ricky ruined everything for our family, and Wayne seems to be heading in the same direction. That bastard Ricky ruined Mum’s life. Can you imagine what it’s done to her, being the mother of a murdering psychopath? People don’t know he’s my brother ’cause I have a different surname. I’ve told Mum to change her surname by deed poll, but she’s not done anything about it yet. No, revenge isn’t my main reason for doing this. The time is right to merge the two busin
esses, but it’s me that’s going to do it, not Wayne and Ricky. People think I’m just a dumb blonde, but they have no idea how wrong they are.’

  ‘Well, you impress me, Sue. You seem to have covered every angle from the look of your business plan. And this type of work would be right up my street. I think I’ve got the experience, though this little one will get in the way a bit.’ She patted her stomach. ‘I’ve only got about three months of work in me before things get too much.’

  ‘That’s not a problem. And I’ll include child care in your contract when you come back after the birth. So are you in?’

  Marilyn nodded. ‘Yes. I’m in. And Gordon will be as well. Though he doesn’t know it yet.’

  * * *

  Gordon Mitchell was feeling increasingly uneasy about Wayne Woodruff. He’d always thought Sorrento had been the crooked one, but he was now beginning to see that he’d seriously misjudged the situation. Sorrento had an unpleasant personality, but Wayne was shifty. Sure, he was easier to work with, but his disregard of all legal constraints was becoming a real worry. And Gordon was beginning to suspect that Wayne had been involved in Sorrento’s death. The thought terrified him. He kept thinking back to his conversation with Marilyn the previous week when she’d told him she wanted him to stop working for the Woodruffs and start a new job, one that was clean. How would she react if she got to know his latest suspicions? To cap it all, Wayne had introduced him to that bent cop, and the guy had clearly been unhappy about it. Didn’t Wayne understand that he was playing with fire? And now Sorrento was dead. Would Gordon be expected to take his place? And if he crossed his boss too often would he too end up dead and hidden under a bush in some God-forsaken bog? Christ. What had he got himself into?

  His mobile phone rang. It was Marilyn, asking him to come to some posh hotel in Poole for a top-secret meeting, and telling him to keep it secret from Woodruff. As it turned out, Wayne was visiting one of the casinos and wasn’t expected back until later. Gordon drove to Poole and was astonished to see Marilyn in the hotel lounge talking to Sue Woodruff, of all people. What was going on?

  He listened to the two women in amazement. He looked at the business plan that Sue had drawn up, along with the financial figures. He asked questions about the legal position and was astounded to discover that Sue was absolutely right in her claim. She was, without a doubt, the major shareholder in both the Woodruff and Frimwell family businesses and so could dictate any future policy. This proposal would solve his dilemma! Not only that, Marilyn would be back at work, using her experience of commercial property management, and working alongside him. Maybe the gods were smiling down on him at last. Sue handed him a glass of champagne, bubbles sparkling in the sunlight streaming in through the window. He looked out at the view, at the blue sea in the distance.

  ‘I’m with you. What’s the first step?’ Gordon raised his glass.

  CHAPTER 35: Stitched Up

  Thursday Morning, Week 3

  Justin Griffiths poured himself a coffee. ‘So what’s this all about, Wayne? A company meeting at nine o’clock in the morning? Phil would have had a fit.’

  Woodruff shrugged. ‘No idea. It’s that wife of mine. She kept going on about it all last night. In the end I agreed just to get a bit of peace. I dunno what’s got into her head. Women!’

  Griffiths suspected that something was up, but he had no idea what it could be. He looked up as three women came into the room, followed by Gordy. It wasn’t often that old Betty Woodruff came to any meetings, especially since the death of her husband, Phil. Sue always attended, but Alison Carter, Wayne’s younger sister, had never attended a company meeting before. Justin had only met her a couple of times, most recently at old Phil’s funeral. Well, well.

  The group took their places at the table, with Wayne at the head. He stretched out his legs in front of him. ‘Okay, folks. Sue wanted this meeting to discuss the way forward for the company. I’m not really ready with my plans yet, but I can give you a rundown of how far I’ve got.’

  Sue interrupted. ‘That isn’t the purpose of this extraordinary meeting. I thought I’d explained that to you last night.’ Wayne looked blank. She turned to the others. ‘I’ve called this meeting in my capacity as majority shareholder. I propose a motion of no confidence in the current chairman and business manager.’

  ‘I second that,’ said Alison Carter.

  Woodruff looked blankly at his wife and sister. ‘What? What do you mean, majority shareholder?’

  Sue looked across at Gordon, now company secretary and legal adviser. Griffiths could feel the tension.

  ‘A motion has been proposed and seconded. We vote according to shareholding stakes in the company.’ Gordon glanced down at the paper in front of him. ‘Wayne holds twenty per cent. Betty has ten per cent, Alison and Justin each have five. Tony Sorrento also held five, which will pass to his next of kin, so obviously his shares can’t be used at present. Sue holds fifty-five percent.’

  In the stunned silence that followed, Wayne looked around him. ‘What?’ he said again.

  Sue’s face was expressionless. ‘Phil sold his shares to me before he died. Thirty-five per cent. Added to my own, that makes fifty-five. That means I own the company. Can we continue with the vote, Gordon?’

  Gordon nodded. ‘All those in favour of the no confidence vote, raise your hand, please.’

  Griffiths looked around, and almost laughed. So this was it. The great, all-powerful Wayne Woodruff, outmanoeuvred by little Sue. Stitched up, zipped up and set up. Griffiths watched as Sue raised her hand. No one else need do anything, if those figures were correct, but someone did anyway. Wayne’s sister, Alison, raised hers. Change was on the way. Maybe it was for the good. Griffiths swallowed hard and lifted his hand.

  ‘All those against.’

  Wayne raised his hand, and looked around him. Betty, his mother, kept her hand on the table. ‘I abstain.’

  ‘Motion carried,’ Gordon said. ‘I think we have a new chairman.’

  Sue stood up and walked to Woodruff’s chair at the head of the table. ‘We need to swap places, Wayne. I run the company now.’

  Woodruff stood up. ‘How did you fucking do that? How did you get your greedy hands on Phil’s shares?’

  Sue sat down. ‘He didn’t trust your judgement, Wayne. He told me so. He knew there was a good chance you’d ruin us all if you got total control, so we partly planned this together. It was all above board. I bought those shares fair and square. The money is in a trust account in the names of your mum, Alison and you. You’ve lost control but you’ve gained a lot of cash. You should be happy. Your share will pay for any number of weekends away with those prostitutes you seem to like so much.’

  Woodruff scowled at her, turned and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Sue looked around her at the intent, silent faces. ‘Gordon, I’d like you to continue as company secretary. You have my full confidence. Justin, would you like to keep the role of vice-chair and assistant manager?’

  Griffiths felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Maybe at last the company could put its past behind it and move towards a better future. Maybe they’d become totally legitimate for the first time. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Of course.’

  He started slightly at Sue’s next words. ‘Our first priority is to help the police get to the bottom of Tony Sorrento’s murder. We give them absolute co-operation, is that clear? If there is a link to anyone in this company, then that person gets no help from us. Now let’s get on with the other business.’

  As she continued, Griffiths looked at Gordy and smiled. Gordon nodded.

  * * *

  At about the same time, in his cell at Long Lartin prison, Ricky Frimwell was reading a letter from the Frimwell family lawyer. Then he read it again. No, he hadn’t misread it. Sue Woodruff had taken over the running of the Frimwell family business and trust, and his mother agreed.

  He recognised Sue’s writing on the second envelope. He looked at it for a long while before open
ing it and taking out the letter.

  Dear Ricky.

  You should receive this on the same day as a letter from our solicitors about a change in the running of all our family concerns. With Mum and Carol’s agreement, I managed to find buyers for a couple of our more rundown properties. With our share of the money, Carol and I bought out Mum’s stake, so we now own the business. Well, I do, with Carol as a minor shareholder who’s agreed to let me run things as I see fit. It means Mum’s comfortably off for the rest of her life without having to scrimp and save. She’s finally agreed to change her name by deed poll and move to somewhere a bit more comfortable, so at long last she can escape from your evil influence and its disastrous effect on her life.

  I’m going ahead with the merger plans with Woodruff Holdings, but on my terms. I’ll then get rid of the crappier properties. Don’t bother trying to influence Wayne or hope that he can salvage any of your schemes. I’ve ousted him as well. I’ve had enough of all his floozies and his half-baked business plans that would only spell disaster for us.

  I won’t come to visit. I never have before, so why would I start now? I can’t stand the sight of you. It was your influence that set Wayne on the slippery slope. Thank God he’s never quite sunk to your level. Whether Carol comes to see you is up to her.

  I might wish you well for the rest of your life, but that would be a lie because I don’t. You wrecked Mum’s life and nearly ruined mine. I hate you for it.

  From your sister, Sue.

  Ricky flung the letter aside. He got up and kicked at the wall. Then he began to wreck the contents of his cell, item by item, flinging the objects to the floor, turning over the furniture. The noise alerted the wardens, but Ricky had already begun to calm down before the sedative kicked in. He’d been completely outmanoeuvred and he knew it.