Regardless, Clare sent off the website image to Face Recognition to see what they could come up with. Downstairs in the bar, she could hear the melodious tones of Murphy and Tremayne, another person accompanying them on the piano.
Clare sent a message to Jean: the man’s going to suffer for his sins in the next week. She smiled at her and Jean’s little conversations, but the diet regime, the treadmill, the reduced cigarettes and alcohol had already had some beneficial effect on Tremayne.
Chapter 21
Dublin Airport and an early morning flight back to Southampton. Clare was looking forward to getting back to her cottage and her cat. Tremayne stood to her side at the check-in counter. He was not looking good after a heavy night and a few too many pints of Guinness.
‘Serves you right,’ Clare said as he looked over at her for sympathy.
‘Don’t tell Jean,’ Tremayne said.
‘Jean’s interested in your well-being, and you go and get drunk with Paddy Murphy. No doubt he looks no better than you, but then he’s got no one to care for him.’
‘Good luck to him,’ Tremayne said.
‘You don’t mean it. You love Jean being around, fussing over you. Does she fetch your slippers yet?’
‘I had a dog that did once, but Jean took it with her when she moved out all those years ago. Maybe I’ll have a word about my slippers to her. It only seems fair.’
‘Fair to you. I suggest you don’t go home until late. I sent an image of Farrell’s wife over to Facial Recognition.’
‘The missing girlfriend?’
‘It’s a long shot, but I don’t think it’s her.’
At Southampton, Clare paid the overnight parking fee and they headed back to Salisbury and Bemerton Road Police Station. By the time they entered the building, Tremayne was back to his usual self.
‘Do we believe Farrell?’ Tremayne said to Clare in his office.
‘His story is plausible.’
‘Setting up a business needs a lot of money, the sort Farrell never had.’
‘His wife’s family?’
‘Some of it came from there, although he may have had another source.’
‘There was no money from the gold bars. If there were a payoff, it would only have come from Cosford for a job well done.’
‘And he wasn’t going to pay for anything, not after the gold had gone missing or had been retrieved from the boot of the car. One thing that we can say about Cosford is that he and his money are not easily parted, and not to a truck driver just because he had a girlfriend and had been coshed on the back of his head.’
‘Where did Farrell initially meet the missing girlfriend?’
‘A club in London. We checked it out. Back then, it was the sort of place Farrell would go if he were on the prowl. Nowadays, it’s been turned into a discount pharmacy.’
‘The girlfriend’s crucial,’ Clare said.
‘The girlfriend can’t be found. We tried back then, but Farrell only knew her as Jane. He didn’t even have a surname; can you believe it?’
‘I can. Farrell’s a hunter, only interested in whether the female is willing.’
‘And this girlfriend must have been if he was willing to risk his job.’
‘If Cosford’s behind this, he’d know where the girlfriend is, or at least who she was.’
‘Do you fancy a trip to London?’ Tremayne said.
‘You’re offering to drive?’
‘Get real, Yarwood. We need to meet up with the security van company.’
‘Are you ready?’
‘After I’ve had a cigarette, first of the day.’
***
To the west of London, close to Heathrow, was the head office of Morrison’s Security.
‘Did you set the business up?’ Clare asked Colin Morrison, the owner of the business.
‘Not me. My father did back in the forties, just after the war. Back then, it was much easier. A couple of old trucks and you were in business. Now, it’s almost impossible with the upfront costs, and the competition is fierce.’
‘You managed to survive, even after losing all that gold,’ Tremayne said. He and Morrison had met a long time ago. Back then, the man had been evasive. Now, he looked tired.
‘A dent in the company’s reputation and there were a few lean years, but people forget.’
‘You’ve kept yourself up to date on the missing gold?’
‘I’d prefer to forget about it, a black mark against the company. Any attempt by you to imply that somehow we were responsible, then you’ll need to be talking through my lawyer.’
‘Still sensitive?’ Tremayne said. Back then, Morrison had been younger, fitter, and a fighting man.
‘Why not? We had built our reputation over many years, and then one incident, and we are lambasted. Our competition took every opportunity to run us down.’
‘Mr Morrison, one thing I don’t understand,’ Clare said.
‘What’s that?’
‘There was a problem with your vans, so you swap to a vehicle with no more than a couple of extra locks.’
‘It happens from time to time.’
‘But why? It was eighteen years ago. Trucks are reliable, so why were two out of service?’
‘We’re not talking about the family car, a hundred miles a week. Our trucks traverse the length and breadth of the United Kingdom, into Europe as well.’
‘We’re not here for a promotional,’ Tremayne said. He could see Morrison giving the story that he had reserved for the media when Cosford’s gold had been stolen. He knew that Clare was asking the same questions as he had, and he knew the answers, but there was no harm in them being asked again.
‘If you’d let me finish,’ Morrison said. He sat back in his chair, taking a breath, and then spoke again. ‘The two vehicles that were out of service. One had just come in from Switzerland. It had a brake problem. A heavy load, a few too many steep descents.’
‘Plausible,’ Clare said.
‘The other vehicle had just done an overnighter from Scotland. It was due for a service. The driver had reported a grinding noise in the gearbox. Do you know how much it costs for another gearbox, and the inconvenience if the vehicle breaks down and we have to send a replacement?’
‘You’re about to tell me.’
‘A lot of money.’
‘Okay, let’s assume you’re left with one van. It’s not the ideal solution, but you decide to use it. There’s still the insurance, and there are forty bars of gold worth three million pounds in the back.’
‘This has all been explained before. If you had checked with Inspector Tremayne, you’d know that the insurance company had agreed to the van. All the paperwork was in place. And besides, the shipment was secret, and nobody in this company knew what Harding and Farrell were carrying.’
‘Except you, the drivers, and Cosford.’
‘Apart from us four and the insurance company. It was a three-hour trip down, and at the other end, Cosford would take the gold.’
‘Take? Him personally?’
‘Harding and Farrell would have been responsible for moving it from the van to a room at the back of his mansion. Once that had been completed, Cosford would have signed off, and the two men would have returned back here.’
You expected them back that night?’
‘We did. We didn’t know that Farrell was intent on a late-night seduction. That was not agreed to.’
‘Do the drivers sometimes take different routes, stop for a break?’
‘It happens. Not that we know about it, and we’ve never had a problem, not before, not since.’
‘Farrell’s girlfriend knew about the gold.’
‘It’s eighteen years, and we went over this back then. Do you expect me to remember something else after such a long time?’
‘We expect you to tell the truth,’ Clare said.
‘Get out of my office,’ Morrison said. ‘I’ll not say another word without my lawyer present.’
‘Guilt
y conscience?’ Yarwood said, realising that Clare had broken through Morrison’s shield of invulnerability. ‘What else do you transport?’ Tremayne had trained his sergeant well, he knew that. Men like Morrison don’t get rattled easily, but she had come at him gently, raising the pressure, even smiling, and the man had cracked.
‘There is no guilt. We are a professional organisation, staffed by motivated employees.’
‘We’ve had the promotional, Mr Morrison,’ Clare said. ‘Have there been any other insurance claims for broken, destroyed, or stolen items over the years, and remember we can check?’
‘Nothing, apart from a painting that was damaged, but the vehicle was in a crash.’
‘Paintings are cased for transport. It must have been a serious crash.’
Keep it up, Yarwood, Tremayne thought. See how far you can push the man.
‘It was, and if there’s nothing else…’ Morrison said.
‘There is.’
‘What is it? What scurrilous lies do you want to perpetuate?’
‘Not lies, just the truth. An audit of this company and what it transports, would that be acceptable?’
‘It would not. We have vehicles going in and out of here all the time. We’re a busy company transporting all over Europe. We do not have the time or the interest for the police to enter these premises, and unless you have a warrant or charges are levelled, I would request, in fact, insist, that you do not return.’
‘Any problems with illegals trying to get into your vehicles for a trip across the channel?’ Tremayne said.
‘It’s a constant.’
‘How about drugs? They must be more profitable than paintings and antiques, more profitable than gold, easier to transport, easier to distribute.’
‘Are you accusing me, Tremayne?’ Morrison was up on his feet, attempting to punch a phone number into his mobile, his hands shaking.’
‘Do you want me to do it?’ Clare said. ‘Your lawyer?’
‘Yes.’
‘He won’t be much help when we arrest you for the transportation of drugs into this country.’
‘You won’t find me guilty of that, nor illegals.’
‘Or maybe it was trafficking women. What nationality was Farrell’s girlfriend? Mr Morrison, there’s something here that you’re not telling us.’
‘This is unacceptable,’ Morrison said, having regained some of his composure.
‘Lying to the police is unacceptable.,’ Tremayne said. ‘We hadn’t considered trafficking women eighteen years ago, not such a problem, but now Yarwood may have hit the nail on the head. You’ve done well here, better than the competition. Maybe they play by the book, maybe you don’t.’
‘I met the girlfriend once, I’ll not deny it.’
‘How?’
‘She was here with Farrell.’
‘You never mentioned it during our original investigation.’
‘Why would I? She wasn’t the focus back then. You asked the standard questions, and your people checked the loading documents, and that was that.’
‘Why did you sack Harding and Farrell?’
‘I paid them off.’
‘But you knew the girlfriend.’
‘She was polite, attractive, and keen on Farrell.’
‘He was being set up,’ Clare said. ‘And you, Mr Morrison, were involved.’
‘Please leave. We have no more to talk about.’
The two police officers left Morrison in his office. Tremayne had seen him head over to the drinks cabinet to pour himself a whisky.
‘You were tough in there,’ Tremayne said to Clare once they were sitting back in her car.
‘He could be innocent,’ Clare said.
‘It’s worth checking. I don’t see the angle on the gold, though. He had nothing to gain.’
‘He would have if Ethan and Martin hadn’t quarrelled. Forty bars of gold would have been his, or Cosford’s.’
Chapter 22
Tremayne could see two major players, Colin Morrison and Selwyn Cosford, as well as a sprinkling of minors. He made a few phone calls, called in a few favours. It was a new day, and Tremayne had had the benefit of a good sleep and Jean’s attention. Not that it had stopped her giving him a few sharp words for getting drunk in Ireland.
‘Morrison?’ Clare said. The two were in the office at Bemerton Road.
‘They’ll conduct random checks on his vehicles, the ones coming in from Europe mainly,’ Tremayne said.
‘Is he involved with the gold?’
‘It’s possible. And if he wasn’t, we can’t be sure that he’s strictly legal now.’
‘I can’t say I trust him,’ Clare said.
‘What do we have on Ethan’s murderer?’
‘No more than we had before.’
‘And Gavin Mitchell?’
‘A knife, easily obtained.’
‘Tony Mitchell?’
‘A nine millimetre bullet. Not the same gun as Ethan.’
‘Three murders, no common thread.’
‘Ethan Mitchell was murdered because someone didn’t want him going after the gold, Gavin because he was, and Tony because he knew where it was,’ Clare said.
‘Morrison can’t be involved with any of the murders unless Ethan was tied in to him. Farrell’s girlfriend was the conduit that connects Morrison to Farrell, and probably to Cosford. If she knew Cosford, then how did he set it up?’
‘The man’s got plenty of money, why would he bother?’
‘Cosford has sailed close to the wind on a couple of occasions. I can remember him driving around Salisbury in an old car.’
‘No money?’
‘One of his deals hadn’t worked out. Not that it worried him.’
‘Supreme confidence?’
‘Total. Another couple of months and he was driving a Ferrari. That’s how the man ticks.’
‘Not a life for me,’ Clare said.
‘That’s the difference between most people and people like Cosford. He’d go after the gold, money or no money. He needs the adrenaline rush.’
***
Clare took the phone call. ‘Lord Linden here. Is Tremayne there?’
‘He’s just gone outside. He’ll be back within a few minutes.’
‘Sergeant, Clare, if I may be so bold, O’Connor took off last night. I thought you should know.’
‘Thank you. Any reason?’
‘None from us.’
‘It could be a family emergency.’
‘It’s possible, but it’s out of character.’
‘He had a place on the estate?’
‘A small cottage. We’ve knocked on the door, no answer.’
‘You’ve not been in?’
‘I’ll leave that to you. It’s doesn’t look good us searching an employee’s premises.’
‘Begging your pardon, but do you get involved with your staff on a day-to-day basis?’
‘Rarely, but we had some pheasants taken last night. O’Connor would have dealt with it, but when I phoned him, he’d gone, no answer.’
‘We’ll be there within the hour,’ Clare said.
‘Come up to the main house, park around the back.’
‘Inspector Tremayne’s back. We’re on our way.’
‘Our housekeeper will show you up.’
‘Who was that?’ Tremayne said as he exhaled the last remnants of his cigarette smoke over Clare.
‘Devlin O’Connor’s done a runner.’
‘Curiouser and curiouser,’ Tremayne said, remembering the line from Alice in Wonderland. ‘Men such as O’Connor don’t vanish in the night. It’s not in their nature. What’s the drill?’
‘We’re meeting his lordship at the main house. After that, we’ll check O’Connor’s cottage.’
Outside the police station, Clare walked towards her car. Tremayne, she could see, was dragging his heels, hoping to take a few puffs of another cigarette.
‘Don’t bother,’ Clare said. ‘Jean’s got me counting, and you’ve had on
e. Midday you can have another.’
‘Yarwood, you’re becoming a pain.’
‘If you want to die, that’s up to you, but for me, I don’t intend to have you polluting my car.’
After their brief verbal exchange, the two police officers drove out to Emberley. By the time they arrived, the clouds had opened, and they had to make a run for the back door.
‘Inspector Tremayne, Sergeant Yarwood, his lordship is waiting upstairs for you,’ the housekeeper, a jolly little woman with a ruddy complexion, said.
‘You don’t mind,’ Linden said as he picked up a cigar from a box on his table. ‘Tremayne?’ The three were sitting in a room off the main hall. ‘A smoking room in the past. The women would be in one room, embroidering, and the men would be in here discussing business and politics. Different times, if Sergeant Yarwood’s formed the impression that I’m an old fossil with antiquated views. No doubt some momentous decisions were made in this room, but now it’s a quiet retreat, nothing more.’
‘Thank you,’ Tremayne said. Clare realised she could say nothing about the cigar.
She had to admit that the smell of a Cuban cigar was not altogether unpleasant; her father treated himself to one at Christmas.
‘O’Connor never said much,’ Linden said. ‘We can’t say that we knew him very well.’
‘What’s his history?’
‘Not much to tell. He arrived here about eighteen years ago, not long after the gold had been buried in that hole down by the gatehouse. Our former estate manager had died, and O’Connor had all the credentials.’
‘Are you certain he’s gone?’
‘I’ve got a key to his cottage. It may be best if you go and look.’
Clare took the key and left the room, Tremayne following after he had finished the cigar. ‘That was great,’ he said.
‘Take one for later.’
‘Don’t mind if I do. Yarwood won’t like it, neither will my wife.’
The DI Tremayne Thriller Box Set Page 108