Looking For A Reason (#4 - D.I. Paolo Storey Crime Series)

by Frances di Plino

  Paolo glanced at Dave who looked as bemused as Paolo felt. What was going on between Mason and his secretary? He would have thought it was a lovers’ spat if it hadn’t been for Katy telling him Mason’s tastes didn’t run to females.

  “Montague, I need to ask you a few questions,” he said, sitting down next to Dave, who already had his notebook at the ready.

  “Yes, so April said. Something to do with council matters. I’m sorry, Paolo, I can’t see what council discussions have to do with you. It is privileged information, you know.”

  Paolo nodded. “I know that, and I’m sure I can find out what I want to know from public records, but you could make it easier for me by answering one question.”

  Montague shrugged. “If I can. What’s the question?”

  “Did Fletcher Simpson clear with the council his decision to disable the CCTV footage along the canal?”

  “Yes, he did and I was completely opposed to it. I told him it was essential to the security of the people who used the canal path, but would he listen? No! Of course, he has most of the other councillors in his pocket, so he got his way on it. Why do you want to know?”

  Paolo ignored that question to ask one of his own. “Who would have known the cameras had been disabled, apart from council members?”

  Montague looked as if Paolo was insane. “The entire town, apart from you, it seems. Didn’t you read the letters pages of the papers a few months back? Lots of residents, myself included, bombarded Simpson’s rag of a paper with complaints, but he, of course, did nothing about it.”

  Paolo looked over at Dave, who shook his head. Obviously, Dave didn’t read the letters pages either, but whoever dumped the attack victim at the canal probably did. Great, the field was now narrowed down to several thousand.

  “Is that all you wanted to know?” Montague asked. “You could have picked up the phone to ask instead of traipsing all the way over here. I have a very busy day ahead and need to get on.”

  Paolo leaned forward. “Not quite everything. We’ve heard back from financial crimes and I’m afraid there is something very seriously wrong with the accounts here.”

  The colour drained from Montague’s face. “That’s not possible,” he said. “I oversee the accounts myself. If there was something amiss, I would have spotted it.”

  “Who else, apart from you, has access to the funds?”

  “Are you accusing me? Who the hell do you think you are? I can tell you right now, there isn’t a penny missing from the centre’s funds. Not one single penny.”

  “Calm down, Montague,” Paolo said. “No one has been accused yet, but there are irregularities and we have to look into them. Now, I’ll ask the question again. Who, apart from you, has access to the funds?”

  Montague remained silent. He picked up a pen, fiddled with and then slung it back down onto the desk.

  “Sorry, Montague, but I need an answer.”

  “If I hand in my resignation from the council, can that be the end of the matter?”

  “Are you admitting guilt?”

  Mason nodded, but didn’t speak. Paolo was amazed to see tears running silently down the man’s face. As he watched, Mason’s shoulders began to shake and then he fell forward, howling as if he was suffering more pain than he could bear.

  The door flew open and April came in.

  “What’s that noise? Oh!” she said, moving towards the desk. “What’s happened? Can I help?”

  She put her arm around Mason’s heaving shoulders.

  “What did you do?” she said, looking at Paolo as if he’d sprouted horns and a tail.

  Paolo stood and walked over to April. Putting his hand on her arm, he nodded towards the door.

  “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave.”

  She glared at him. “No way! If you think–”

  He cut across her words. “April, unless Montague asks you to stay, you need to go back to your office.”

  She leant down so that her face was closer to the sobbing man. “Montague,” she whispered, “do you need me to stay?”

  With a shudder, the sobs subsided and he shook his head.

  “Do you want me to call anyone for you?”

  He lifted his head and Paolo was shocked at the devastation written on the man’s face. Whatever his reason for fiddling with the finances, Montague’s future was in tatters and he knew it.

  “No, don’t call anyone,” he said, his voice a shadow of its usual bluster. “Leave me now, April. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Are you sure?” she said, her arm tightening around his shoulders.

  “Yes.” As she let go and took a step towards the door, he called out. “April!”

  She stopped and looked back.

  “Thank you for caring,” he whispered, so low Paolo thought at first April hadn’t heard him.

  After a moment, she nodded, shot a look of venom at Paolo and Dave, and then left, shutting the door with enough force to make the point of how she felt about the scene she’d witnessed.

  Paolo sighed. Another enemy gained from doing his job. He waited for Montague to finish blowing his nose. He seemed to have pulled himself together.

  “I’ll need you to come down to the station to make a statement about what you’ve done and why you did it,” Paolo said.

  Montague shook his head. “I don’t have to tell you why.”

  “No, but it might help you at trial if there was an extenuating circumstance for your actions.”

  “Trial? No, there mustn’t be a trial. I’ll plead guilty to whatever you say, but no trial.”

  “Montague, don’t be daft. Of course there’ll have to be a trial. This isn’t some third world country where we sling you in prison and forget about you. Even if you plead guilty, there still has to be a trial to determine what sort of sentence you’ll get.”

  “You mean prison? I can’t go to prison. I put all the money back. All of it. They can check. I only borrowed it until I could sell things to replace what I took. You have to believe me, Paolo. I moved cash around, yes, but I didn’t steal anything.”

  Paolo sighed. “That’s why there has to be a trial, Montague. If you’re telling the truth, the chances are you won’t get a custodial sentence. You might even get away with a rap over the knuckles, but you must see that justice has to be done. You’re in a position of trust and, for whatever reason, you abused that trust.”

  “I’ve already said I’ll resign. Please, I’m begging you, can’t we just ignore this whole thing?”

  “I can’t. You know that.” A thought occurred to Paolo. “Are you being blackmailed?”

  Already ashen, Montague’s face lost its remaining colour.

  “You are, aren’t you? Who are paying money to?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “You are,” Paolo pressed. “Come on, Montague, let me help you. Are you being blackmailed? Is that why you needed to produce cash in such a hurry you had to take it from the youth centre accounts?”

  Montague hung his head, but his answer was clear. “I’ll be ruined when this comes out. The newspapers will splash it all over the front pages. Isn’t that enough for you? Please, Paolo, I’m begging you, don’t dig into why I did it.”

  “I have to. It’s my job. I can’t sit by and allow blackmailers to ruin lives. Whatever you’ve done, paying someone to keep quiet about it won’t hide the facts forever.”

  Montague looked up. “I haven’t done anything illegal.”

  “Apart from borrowing from public finances, you mean?”

  He looked as if he’d been slapped and Paolo was surprised to find he felt bad.

  Montague raised his shoulders and let them drop in defeat. “I know taking the money was wrong, but I told you, I put it back. I’m not a thief. What I did, what the blackmailer found out about, it isn’t illegal, but it’s just… I… Go away, Paolo, please. As of this moment, you can consider I’ve resigned. I’ll get April to send out a press release and I’ll come to t
he station later today to give a statement.”

  Paolo stood. Looking across the desk he felt more sympathy for Montague than he’d considered possible. He didn’t like the man, but to see him broken like this wasn’t a sight Paolo could rejoice in.

  “I give you my word, nothing will reach the press from me or any member of my team. It will come out eventually, but not via my office.”

  “Thank you for that,” Montague whispered, his voice wavering as his tears broke through once again.

  Paolo nodded and went to open the door. As he and Dave walked into the outer office, Derrick Walden made a sudden move away from April’s desk.

  “Right, April, I’ll see you later, then,” he said and sauntered out.

  April turned to Paolo. “That bloody man is worse than any woman when it comes to spreading gossip. I hope you realise you’ve ruined Montague’s reputation. By the time Derrick leaves today, everyone will know you’ve been here and reduced Montague to tears. I hope you’re pleased with yourself!”

  Paolo opened his mouth to justify his actions, realised he couldn’t without compromising his position, so shut it again without saying a word.

  “See! You know you’ve ruined that man and you won’t even apologise.”

  “April, it was partly through your nudge in that direction that we… Sorry, I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation.”

  “Well, I didn’t mean for you to come and persecute the poor man. I just thought you’d find out what was going on and help him. There’s no money missing, that I do know.”

  Paolo sat down. “You’re going to have to explain. I’m completely lost.”

  She grimaced. “I knew there was something not quite right with the books, but each time I thought there was money missing, it reappeared, so I knew Montague wasn’t stealing. At first I thought it was my imagination, but now I think someone is blackmailing him. He’s a nervous wreck these days and he’s been selling off his stuff. He reckons it’s to downsize, but you don’t sell paintings and sculptures to downsize until you know what size place you’re moving to and can work out what to keep and what to ditch. And that’s another thing; he’s put his house on the market. He loves that place. No way would he sell it unless he’d been forced to. Someone is bleeding him dry. I thought if I nudged you in the right direction you’d look into it and find out who it was.”

  Paolo was aware of the scratching of Dave’s pen as he scribbled down the notes of April’s furious tirade.

  “So was it you who scrawled on the plaque?”

  She looked disgusted. “How many times do I have to tell you? No, it wasn’t me, but it might have been my lipstick. I lost it and haven’t seen it since. I wanted to help Montague. I’d never publically humiliate him, but that’s what’s going to happen isn’t it? I feel sick to think I’m responsible.”

  Paolo stood up. “You’re not to blame. We’d have reached this point anyway.”

  She gave a bitter laugh. “That’s easy for you say, but I’ve got to face that poor man when he comes out of there.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Nemesis in Action Blog

  I knew I was being watched. I’ve had the feeling of someone spying on me for weeks. It started with a tingle in my spine, a growing awareness of no longer being invisible. Now the sensation has deepened to the certainty someone is interested in my every move. There’s no point in taking chances. I’ll simply keep low for a while. Nemesis will have to go into hibernation for a few weeks. With all the bastards out there in need of punishment, it’s going to be hard to ignore my calling, but I have to think of the longer term.

  There are still so many truly evil people who need to be shown the error of their ways, but if I get caught, and forced to stop dealing retribution, it’s the innocent women of the future who will suffer. If I don’t stop these men from raping again and again, who will? The police don’t care and the courts are useless. Even when rapists are convicted they get no more than a slapped wrist. How can that be right? Where is the justice in that?

  My way works, though. I’ve proved it time and time again. Not one of the men who’ve been through my reconditioning programme has ever reoffended. Not one!

  An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a rape for a rape. Nemesis in action.

  ***

  Paolo turned to peer at the bedside clock. God, it was only six in the morning. Why did his internal alarm insist on waking him at this bloody ridiculous hour at weekends? Every Friday night he promised himself a lie in. Every Saturday his eyes opened to the unwelcome sight of his clock telling him he could have slept for another couple of hours at least.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to force his mind to relax, but it was no good, his brain had already started processing the events of the week. Sighing, he sat up and switched on his bedside light. His thoughts drifted back to the day before when Montague had come into the station to make his statement.

  The man was a wreck, a shadow of the bluster and bombast that had always been part of his basic personality. April had come in with him as support. Now that woman was a constant source of surprise to Paolo. He couldn’t make her out at all. She seemed to veer between being a mindless flirt and a compassionate friend in need. He shrugged. Scratch the surface of most people and you’d find they had more facets to them than you’d ever dream were hiding there.

  So far the press hadn’t caught wind of Montague’s disgrace, but it was only a matter of time before it became public knowledge. Paolo wondered how Montague would handle being headline news for all the wrong reasons.

  Paolo knew he was dwelling on work to take his mind off Jessica’s visit this weekend. Had she found someone else? Is that what she needed to discuss with him? She’d sounded very serious, so whatever it was, did not bode well for a joyful reunion. He tried to work out when they’d last spent a full uninterrupted weekend together and couldn’t think of one during the past six months at least.

  It was almost as if the criminal element of Bradchester knew when he was planning a relaxing couple of days with Jessica. The moment she arrived, the phone would ring on a case he couldn’t ignore. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe she was just fed up with him being called out all the time.

  He stretched and got out of bed. If he was going to stay awake, he might just as well get a caffeine fix. As he padded through to the kitchen, he thought about the other two women in his life, because he had to consider Katy in that way now. She was no longer a child, even if he’d have preferred her to remain one for a few years longer. He’d tried to discuss Katy’s plans with Lydia over the phone, but she’d refused to talk to him about it until after this weekend. She and Katy were going to have a heart to heart and try to see each other’s point of view.

  Must be something in the air, he thought, as he filled the kettle. It seemed to be a weekend for heavy conversations and life changing decisions. As he reached into the cupboard for the coffee, a memory flashed into his mind. The last time Jessica had been here, she’d said something had changed for her. Something to do with her work. They’d been about to discuss it when his phone had interrupted her. Maybe she hadn’t found someone else. Maybe it was work related. Now he was clutching at straws for sure.

  He spooned coffee into the cafetière and poured the boiling water on top. As he replaced the lid and plunger, he tried to imagine life without Jessica and realised, with some shock, that’s exactly what he’d been living for the last six months. The last time he’d cleared his work load so that they could go away for a few days, even planning to leave his phone behind so that no one could find him and drag him back to work, Jessica had cancelled a couple of days before. She’d had to go off somewhere work related.

  Stop it, he told himself. Stop trying to overanalyse everything. Jessica will be here in a few hours. He poured a cup of perfect coffee and took it through to the bedroom. Just because he was awake, didn’t mean he had to get up. A couple of hours with his favourite author would help to pass the time.

  Fou
r hours later, Paolo was pacing up and down at the train station, still trying to second guess Jessica’s intentions. As the train flashed by, he spotted her standing next to the doors, ready to alight. He moved along the platform as the train slowed and eventually stopped, so that he was level with her carriage.

  She came off the train, dropped her overnight bag at his feet, and hugged him.

  “God, I’ve missed you,” she said.

  All his fears and anxiety fled as he returned her embrace.

  “I’ve missed you, too.”

  “Good! I’m hoping…never mind. Let’s go back to your place. We can talk there.”

  Paolo picked up her bag and carried it to the car. He wanted to ask questions, but knew there was no point. If Jessica wanted to keep her news until they got home, no amount of probing on his part would prise information out of her. He smiled. Some of the criminals he interviewed could learn from Jessica about when to speak and when to keep quiet. A sudden vision of her coaching some of the harder nuts he needed to crack came into his mind. That really would be the ultimate nightmare scenario!

  “So, how’s London?” he asked, as he manoeuvred the car into the Saturday morning traffic.

  “Busy. Noisy. Exciting. All the usual adjectives, but I won’t be there for much longer.”

  “Really?” he said, turning off the main road. “I thought you were going to be there for another year.”

  She laughed. “We aren’t supposed to be discussing this until you’ve made me coffee at your place. No more questions, okay?”

  He agreed, but his heart soared. So this was the big discussion point. She was coming back to Bradchester. Maybe she wanted to discuss moving in with him – or him moving into her place. As he drove, he tried to analyse how he felt about that. Was he ready for a more permanent relationship? He smiled. Yes, he thought, that’s exactly what he was ready for.

  To avoid any awkward silences, he told her about Katy’s plan to go overseas as a volunteer for a year.

  “I’ve made a rash promise to talk to Lydia on Katy’s behalf. I’m not sure how much good it will do. Maybe I should forbid Lydia to let Katy go, that might do the trick. She’d be booking Katy’s air tickets before I’d even left the house.”