by T J Harris
“You got it.” replied Hunter. “It’s how some people make huge fortunes when the markets crash. Billions were made over the housing crisis in the US and elsewhere in 2008 and before that there was the guy that made a fortune betting against the pound when we came out of the ERM. I bet there were quite a few people who did very well out of the Brexit vote fallout.”
“But surely the banks must weigh up the likelihood and set appropriate premiums.”
Goldberg answered. “You’d think so, but if history teaches us anything, it’s that that’s not the case. Jason explained it by saying that people hate to think about bad things happening so they underestimate their likelihood. The worse the bad thing seems, the more they underestimate. The very idea of power restrictions, and rolling blackouts seems ridiculous in this day and age. It seems so unlikely, that the odds would be very long and therefore the premiums could be quite low. We know it’s not that unlikely though.” he added, nodding up at the computer display.
“So what’s the link to our investigation?”
“Jason’s thinking is that if someone in the city, or in the sector even, had spotted the same trend that Helen had, they may be slowly but carefully building a short position against major electricity users within the economy. The thing is, the safer something appears to be, the better odds you can get on the instrument. So it would take time to gradually buy up everything you wanted, being careful not to let the cat out of the bag. If you bought in too big too fast, the city would notice and start asking questions about the trades. They would investigate it properly, realise what was in store and the odds would shrink dramatically sending the prices sky high if they even carried on selling them at all. Some scientist telling the world at a major energy conference would be very unwelcome indeed.”
“So that’s the possible motive.” Carver rubbed his chin looking across at his FAGS board. “So what does your mate want from us?”
“Just a briefing really. He wants to understand Helen Brooks’s data so he can look for a trading pattern that might match. It might not lead anywhere and it would not prove they had anything to do with the murder, that could be just coincidence. There is nothing illegal in building a short position in itself as long as its not based on insider trading knowledge. It could point towards a potential suspect though, so it’s worth a look isn’t it?”
“It certainly is.” Carver paused, thinking it over. “OK let’s do it. Where are we meeting him?”
“He said Wood Green Nick in the City. They’ve got Bloomberg terminals and other database access systems there, so it makes sense for us to travel. If we take the 7:05 from Gloucester we can be there for 10:30.”
“Lovely.” said Carver calculating what time he would have to set his alarm to catch the London train the following morning. “You two draw up some lists of what we might be looking for then. Make it look like we’ve done our homework.” He left the room to leave them to it.
The rest of the day was less fruitful. Moss was still concentrating on Tony Brooks but was not getting anywhere. She had looked to see if any of his credit card activity put him anywhere near the list of hotels his wife had used with Williams to try and establish that he had known of the affair earlier than he was letting on. Nothing had stood out.
Pramanik and Hughes had been joined by the local uniforms and had carried out a fingertip search of the woods surrounding the New Fancy car park where the body had been found. They were looking for the necklace or anything else of relevance. All they found were 74p in change, a burst orange and yellow tennis ball, obviously abandoned by a disappointed dog, and some burned down spliffs. The latter was of interest to the constable that had found them, but not to the detectives.
Carver spent the rest of the day pulling together the case information against Williams. He went through the transcripts again, looking for any nuances he might have missed, but came up short. At four pm he decided to call it a day and headed home, conscious of the early start planned for the following day’s trip to London. Before he left he sent Philpot an email updating him and letting him know their plans.
Chapter 14
Carver was the last to arrive in the small coffee shop, come waiting room, on Gloucester station’s platform one. He was in a bad mood.
“Bloody ticket machine in the car park says enter a code to get a rail travellers discount, but how are you supposed to know the code. There was nothing in the ticket hall where I got my ticket. It’s a right rip-off.”
“It’s over there.” said Hunter, pointing at a four-digit code pinned up on the platform wall. “You’re supposed to pay for the parking this side using your phone.”
“Bloody technology.” Carver growled. “What’s wrong with paying cash? I guess I’m supposed to give some switchboard operator my credit card details over a mobile phone with everyone in here listening in am I?”
“You just key it in, you don’t have to read it out. It’s quite safe.”
“Bollocks, how many credit card fraud and identity theft cases did we run last year?”
“They were all through social media. Anyway, who uses cash these days.”
Carver looked furious. “What are you trying to say Steve?”
Hunter visibly shrunk, knowing he had gone too far. Fortunately the tension was broken as the Tannoy system announced the imminent arrival of their train. The three men stood and made their way to the platform to board the train.
They managed to secure one of the few sets of four chairs facing a central table and settled in.
Hunter was still embarrassed and had apologised three times before Carver told him to let it drop, blaming the ridiculous time his alarm had gone off for his bad mood.
The number of people boarding the train so early in the morning surprised all three officers. Most of the other passengers were dressed for the office and carrying small rucksacks. More than a few opened laptops as soon as they sat down and started their working day.
“Imagine doing this every morning.” said Goldberg. “You think they all work in London?”
“Now you know why house prices have gone up so much over the last few years.” said Hunter, re-joining the general conversation. “We live in the commuter belt now.”
“Crazy.” said Carver shaking his head, and the other two nodded.
“So how did you two get on yesterday?” Carver enquired.
“Not bad actually.” Hunter replied. Goldberg smiled at Carver and settled back into his seat allowing the Tech to carry on.
Hunter pulled out his laptop and opened a National Statistics report he had downloaded the previous day and launched straight into his briefing. “Domestic and commercial users account for about half of electricity demand. Surprisingly some of the things you think of as big are not that hungry. Transport and agriculture only use about 1% each. The fuel processing industry is about 8% so that might be worth a look. Increasing costs could squeeze that sector even further.” He swiped down the document on his screen and continued. “The chemical industry is a big user, larger than food processing and the paper industry is surprisingly heavy.”
“Anything unusual stand out? Any companies in particular?”
“One of the surprising ones is IT infrastructure. It’s estimated that 10% of electricity is used by IT and a lot of that is on large data centres and servers.” He opened another document on his screen. “This report says that if you use a tablet or phone to stream just one film, the entire energy cost is more then running two fridge freezers for a week.”
“You’re kidding.” protested Carver.
“I know, I feel a bit guilty now. There was that urban myth a few years back about how each web search uses the same amount of power as boiling a kettle. I looked into it and it’s not that bad, you can actually do three and half searches for a kettle’s worth of electricity.” he raised his eyebrows. “But it’s still pretty bad.”
“Bad, it’s ludicrous. I don’t suppose my kids social media activity is any better then?”
“Well that�
�s a good point.” replied Hunter. “How would hikes in electricity prices affect that business model? If they had to charge for access to pay the bills, membership would drop like a stone, but I can’t see advertising being too keen to make up the difference. Someone shorting social media companies and other energy hungry players may be worth a look.”
They were interrupted by Carver’s mobile vibrating on the table in front of them. He looked at the screen and saw it was DCI Philpot. He picked it up and accepted the call.
“Carver. Where are you?”
It was very unusual for the man to use his surname and even more unusual for him to shout, especially to the higher ranks.
“Good Morning Sir, I’m on the train for London. I sent you an email about it yesterday.”
“Email, what bloody good is that on a Sunday afternoon. Get back here as soon as you can. Your meeting’s cancelled.”
“Sorry Sir…” he put his hand over the phone’s microphone and asked the others quietly what the next stop was.
Hunter was tapping the screen of his Smartphone. “The next stop is Yate, but if we need to get back we’d do better to carry on to Bristol Parkway, we can get a faster train back to Gloucester from there.” He looked at Goldberg and whispered “That’s another couple of kilowatts gone up in smoke.”
Carver put the phone back to his ear, “We’ll get off at Bristol and turn back Sir. We should be back at the station within the hour.”
“Good, my office as soon as you arrive.” The connection was cut before Carver could agree. He stared at his phone for a moment, trying to imagine what he’d done that was so wrong. The other two knew better than to say anything, even Hunter got the message and quietly folded down his laptop screen.
Once back at the station, Carver made his way directly to the DCI’s office on the top floor. He deliberately kept his jacket on so that it was obvious he had followed his boss’ instructions to the letter. He knocked on the door and waited for a response.
“Come in Jeff.” He heard from the other side. He breathed a slight sigh of relief that the storm was at least passing and entered the office. He was surprised to see the Assistant Chief Constable already sat at the meeting table.
“Good Morning Sir.” He said crisply then turned to Philpot. “Chief Inspector. Sorry for the delay, we made it back as soon as we could.”
“That’s fine, take a seat.” Carver sat opposite the two senior officers. Philpot continued. “You’ve created quite the little drama. You really should have cleared this trip with me first. You knew I had doubts about these conspiracy theories of yours.”
“Yes Sir, sorry Sir.” Carver replied, still unsure just how much trouble he was in.
The AC Con took over. “I’m sure you acted with the best of intensions Inspector, but these are delicate times. Fortunately this DI Jason Paterson, from City of London did notify his superiors of the meeting. Their AC Con called me last night and we’ve reviewed the case together. The CPS agree that we have enough to proceed with this Williams character. This other stuff is very circumspect anyway, you’d just be wasting your time. When is Williams due to report for his bail appearance?”
“At ten this morning.” Carver replied, looking at his watch. “He should be here in about half an hour.”
“Good, you’re to charge him. I’ve had a word with the magistrate’s court, we can get him in this afternoon, get him remanded and off to Bristol in time for his tea.”
“We can do that, but I thought the CPS wanted more to make a solid case.”
“They’ll just have to get on with what they have. After all it’s pretty clear-cut from what I can see. He has the motive, the opportunity and the means. Plus the fact that he’s consistently tried to cover everything up and lied to you at every stage. The man’s guilty, I’m sure of it.”
Before Carver could answer, Philpot added. “Forgetting this morning’s little adventure, this will go down as a great success for you and your team. Seriously Jeff, very well done. Tracking this Williams guy down so quickly was very good police work. Pass both our congratulations on to the team will you.” He looked across at the AC Con who nodded.
“Yes Sir, thank you, they will appreciate that.” It was obvious that the meeting was over so he stood to leave. “Will that be all Sir? I’ll need to go and make arrangements for Williams’ arrival?”
“Yes, of course. Off you go and well done again.” Both the senior officers stood as Carver left. As he made his way back down to the incident room he ran through the conversation again in his head. He was a little uneasy with the speed of events, but Williams had always been his prime suspect and a well done from the Assistant Chief Constable would do no harm at all in his annual appraisal. He decided he’d treat himself to a biscuit to go with his coffee.
When he entered the incident room, it immediately went quiet as everyone stopped and looked up expectantly. Goldberg and Hunter had no doubt told everyone about their aborted trip and the DI being shouted at over the phone. They were waiting to hear the results of his meeting.
“The CPS says we should charge Sean Williams.” he announced.
There was a murmur that ran through the room. Goldberg looked around, noticing that nobody else was going to say anything he asked. “What about the energy crisis stuff? What was all that about this morning?”
“Too speculative. The fuss was my fault for not getting proper authorisation to bring in another force, let alone the expenses. You know how much those tickets cost. I didn’t risk assess the two of us being trapped on a train with Hunter’s spreadsheet for four and a half hours either.” He winked at Steve Hunter who grinned back from over his laptop. A ripple of laughter went through the room, breaking the tension. “Seriously though, they’ve decided there is sufficient to charge him and we are to pass everything on to the CPS.” he paused. “There is one more thing. Very well done everyone. That comes from the AC Con as well as the DCI. They were particularly impressed with how we tracked Williams down so quickly.” Hunter beamed and the mood of the room improved further. Carver appointed teams to collate all the evidence so it would be ready to hand over that afternoon.
Moss was the only one left with a concerned expression on her face. Carver knew she was not fully convinced, but it was out of their hands now. He would find her some busy work soon to take her mind off this case.
“Looks like you can go home now.” Hughes said to Pramanik, with a disappointed look on her face. Then she flashed him a winning smile. “Unless I can tempt you with a tour of the town tomorrow? That’s if you don’t have to rush back.”
“You know, you might just be able to do that.” He winked at her. She blushed slightly and was clearly pleased.
Moss stood up, a sullen look on her face, obviously about to leave the room. Carver smiled to himself. At least he wouldn’t lose her in a transfer to Avon. He caught her before she reached the door. “Come on, let’s go charge our man.”
“Is he our man though?” she replied as they walked out into the open plan office and headed for the stairwell. “I’ll admit that it looks that way, but I’m not sure it feels right. Would he really have killed her just for being dumped? For that matter, would she have met him in a car park at the crack of dawn if she was dumping him?”
They had reached the top of the stairwell. Carver stopped and checked that they were not being overheard before replying. “It’s out of our hands now Claire. The bosses have spoken.”
“Yes, but surely you’re not agreeing with them. You were all set to be in London by now following new leads, before they yanked you back here. Something is definitely off, and you’re just rolling over.” Moss was staring at her boss with a look that suggested both surprise and disappointment.
“Careful Sergeant.” he replied. He needed to get control of the situation. “This isn’t some crime busting show on the telly, and we’re not maverick cops that flout authority to get the bad guys. This is normal police work. We’ve got a strong suspect who I truly believe is
guilty, so do our superiors and so do the CPS. All that conspiracy theory stuff was just a flight of fancy. I shouldn’t have taken it seriously in the first place.”
“If you say so.” She huffed and set off down the stairs, leaving Carver to follow in her wake. He considered continuing the argument but decided against it. She was young and she would learn. He resolved to put her on the next interesting case that came in though; he didn’t want to dampen her enthusiasm.
They walked in silence for the rest of the way down to the interview suite. Williams had been routed through to an interview room when he had reported for his bail appearance. Carver opened the door and asked Williams to follow him back to the custody sergeant’s desk. He seemed displeased to be messed about, but obediently did as he was told.
Once at the desk, Carver held the formal paperwork up to read it out load. “Sean Williams. You are formally charged that on or about the fourteenth of July of this year, in the Forest of Dean in the county of Gloucestershire, you did murder Helen Brooks contrary to common law.”
Williams slumped his shoulders and bowed his head as the charge was read to him. “This can’t be happening.” He mumbled repeatedly as they explained that he would be kept at the station before being taken to appear before the magistrate that afternoon. The sergeant led him to the end cell in the block, let him in and locked the door.
Chapter 15
Sean Williams sat on the single bed in the small, magnolia painted brick cell that had been home for the previous six months. On average he spent about eighteen hours a day in that room. On some days he was lucky and spent even more time safely entombed with the heavy steel door locked. He had not really known what to expect when he sat in the white Securicor van heading south along the M5 after his brief appearance with the magistrate. Like most people, he had read conflicting reports in the press. Depending on what paper you read, prisons were either luxury spas, far too good for the scum that they housed, or violent depressing holes where the basic human rights of vulnerable and misunderstood people were abused on a daily basis.