Blood Money

by J M Dalgliesh

  “And we do?” Hunter pressed, as they walked through the security door into the lobby and on out into the car park.

  “Oh, yes,” Caslin replied in an upbeat tone. “We most certainly do.”

  “What are we going to do with it?”

  “Let’s start with his colleagues.”

  Chapter 15

  Caslin felt his phone vibrating within his coat pocket. Closing Nairn’s case file in his lap, he took out the phone and briefly looked at the screen before putting it away without answering. Hunter glanced at him, her expression conveying an unasked question.

  “Matheson,” Caslin said.

  “Do I take it she has no idea where we are?” Hunter asked, turning off the engine and withdrawing the key. Caslin shook his head.

  “She’d only worry,” he replied, smiling. Opening his door, he got out. Hunter did likewise. Caslin glanced around. Their destination was a modest two-storey office building, nestled in between several similar making up a small commercial development just beyond the city limits. Caslin judged they were close enough to take advantage of the public transport system but equally well positioned to exploit the road links in and out of York. The site was modern and not short of tenants for the office space.

  They made their way to the entrance, Caslin noting the names attached to the allocated parking spaces set out in front. Two regular discolorations in the brickwork indicated plaques had been removed fairly recently, from spaces adjacent to one another. Hunter reached the door first, opening it and indicating for Caslin to go ahead. Walking through, Caslin observed the interior. There were four desks positioned within. Two were clearly unoccupied, judging by their level of tidiness, with a third that had several piles of paperwork strewn across it in an apparently haphazard manner. They were welcomed with a warm smile from the only person present, a lady, seated behind the remaining desk. She rose and came around to greet them.

  “Good morning,” she said. “My name is Lisa. How can I help you?”

  “Good morning. We’re looking to speak with Thomas Grey,” Caslin said, eyeing her. She was in her forties, power dressed and approached with a confidence that Caslin found momentarily unsettling. He didn’t know why, seeing as he had never held any issue with women as authority figures. Grey was Alexander Nairn’s business partner, named in the file that Caslin had been reading through on their journey back into the city from Acomb Road.

  “I’m afraid Mr Grey’s schedule is already full today. Would you like to make an appointment?”

  Caslin brandished his warrant card, “We don’t need one.” Lisa eyed his credentials, glancing in Hunter’s direction who smiled in return.

  “Oh, I see. May I ask what it is regarding?”

  “Certainly. It’s regarding the death of one of your colleagues, Alexander Nairn.” She tensed at the mention of the name, almost imperceptibly, but her professional persona slipped for the briefest of moments. Caslin picked it up nonetheless.

  “Please bear with me, if you wouldn’t mind?” she said, taking a step back before turning and walking the short distance to her desk. Picking up the phone, she dialled an extension. The call was answered quickly and she turned her back on them, speaking at an almost inaudible level. Hanging up, Lisa turned to face them. The mask of business-like demeanour had returned. “He’ll be with you shortly. Please take a seat, if you wish,” she said, indicating an L-shape sofa arrangement in the corner behind them. Both of them chose to remain standing. Lisa returned to sit behind her desk while Caslin scanned the walls of the office.

  There was a list of companies framed on the wall. Seemingly, this office housed the business activities of several others who were also registered at the same address. Elsewhere, there were copies of articles from professional publications citing awards attained by the company as well as photographs taken of successful developments, both at home and abroad. Caslin found his attention drawn to a commercial high-rise building in a skyline, he thought looked vaguely familiar.

  “Where is this?” he asked Lisa who in turn, glanced up from her desk and looked over at the picture.

  “Singapore,” she replied.

  “Oh,” Caslin said, realising he was mistaken. “Do a lot of business there?”

  “Not as much as we used to,” she said.

  “Any particular reason for that?” Caslin asked, making conversation. No answer was forthcoming, though, as a door opened further along the only corridor into the building and a figure emerged. He almost glided down the corridor towards them. Caslin could tell he was eyeing them up as he approached. Acknowledging them with a nod of the head, Caslin spotted an earpiece.

  “Mr Grey will see you now,” Lisa said.

  The man sent to accompany them stepped aside, allowing Hunter and Caslin to go ahead with the gesture of an open palm. He fell into step behind them, keeping a respectful distance until they reached Grey’s office. Their escort came past and opened it, indicating for them to enter. They were greeted by a suited man, in his fifties, who eagerly came across the office to shake their hands. He was stocky in frame, balding, with a well-lined face and tanned complexion. Evidently, he wintered in sunnier climes.

  “Thomas Grey,” he said, taking Caslin’s hand.

  “DI Caslin and DS Hunter, from Fulford Road CID,” Caslin said.

  “This is about Alex’s suicide, I understand?”

  “Of sorts,” Caslin confirmed.

  “Please, sit down,” Grey said, offering them a chair as he went to sit down behind his desk. “Would you like a coffee or something?”

  “No, thank you,” Caslin said, pulling out a chair and sitting down, Hunter alongside him. Glancing over his shoulder, Caslin saw Grey’s minder, for he had no doubt that was what he was, take a position behind them to his left. He stood with his back to the wall, arms crossed behind his back but remained attentive.

  “How then, may I help? I understood the inquest was closed last year,” Grey asked, sitting forward, elbows on his desk.

  “It was,” Caslin began. “We’re following up on another angle that has subsequently come to the fore. What can you tell us about Mr Nairn’s state of mind at the time of his death? Why would he have taken the decision that he did that day?”

  Grey blew out his cheeks, sitting back in his chair, “Hard to say, if I’m honest. I wasn’t around much at the time as I’d been working away, on site.”

  “You deal in property?” Caslin asked. Grey nodded.

  “It’s a little more complicated than that. Acquisitions, developments, off-plan trading and the like.”

  “I see. Where is your largest market, would you say?”

  “We are global, as are our investors,” Grey announced, “and it’s a globalised economy, no matter what some people may seem to think these days.”

  “So, were you aware of any difficulties that Mr Nairn was experiencing, financial, domestic or otherwise?”

  “I thought this had all been covered?” Grey replied.

  “Humour me,” Caslin countered.

  “Nothing specific,” Grey shrugged, “but he was always someone who felt the pressure. They say divorce and buying a house are the most stressful things you can ever experience and he did the former. The latter, well, that’s what we do, magnified by a factor of a hundred.”

  “Seems an odd profession to take up, in that case,” Caslin said.

  “I don’t think either of us ever planned it, back in the day but we worked hard and you get out what you put in, don’t you?” Grey argued, smiling.

  “You knew him well?” Hunter asked. “I mean, you go back a long way?”

  “Absolutely,” Grey said, emphatically. “We met in our twenties, got on well and it snowballed from there.”

  “Mr Nairn didn’t have any business worries other than the general stress you mentioned?” Caslin asked.

  Again, Grey shook his head, “No. Business has never been better. Susan, his ex, wasn’t surprised about his suicide, though. She said he’d been strugg
ling for a while but I didn’t have a clue. I was just too busy to notice, I guess. To be honest, I really miss him both as a friend and as a business partner. It’s been a tough six months. Why are you investigating Alex again?” Grey asked, sitting forward once more.

  “We’re not,” Caslin said. “His name came up in an unrelated matter and we’re following up.”

  “What matter?” Grey pressed, meeting Caslin’s eye.

  “We’ll leave it there for now, Mr Grey,” Caslin said, standing.

  “Oh, really,” Grey said, sounding surprised which piqued Caslin’s interest.

  “We’re not sure how Mr Nairn fits into it but don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of it soon enough,” Caslin said, smiling and trying to convey a determined attitude. Hunter cast him a fleeting glance but said nothing.

  Grey took a deep breath, “Right you are. Well, if there is anything else you need, please get in touch and I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thank you for your time,” Caslin said, offering his hand. Grey took it, shaking vigorously. Hunter smiled and inclined her head as she stood and the two of them made for the door. The minder opened it and they passed through, into the corridor. They were left to make their own way out.

  Reaching the reception, Caslin stopped at Lisa’s desk. She was just finishing a call and hung up as Caslin spoke.

  “Lisa, can I ask you a couple of questions?” he asked. She nodded to indicate, he could. “Did you know Mr Nairn well?”

  “Yes, he was a wonderful man and a great boss. It was such a shame what happened.”

  “Were you here that day?” Hunter asked.

  “Oh, yes. The office was full. We were much busier back then.”

  “Busier than now?” Hunter asked.

  “Very much so,” Lisa said, lowering her voice and nervously glancing behind her, back down the corridor. “There used to be four of us out here but now it’s only me.”

  “They keep you busy?”

  “Not recently,” she replied.

  “What can you tell us about that day, when Mr Nairn took his life?” Caslin asked.

  “It started much as any other,” Lisa began, “with a scheduled progress meeting between Mr Nairn and Mr Grey but it went a little sour.”

  “Mr Grey was also here that day? I mean, he wasn’t away?”

  “Yes, of course he was here. They only ever went away together. We used to call them the Krays. You know, after Ronnie and Reggie? They were like inseparable twins. Not that they are gangsters or anything,” Lisa quickly stated. Caslin indicated for her to continue. “Part way through the meeting some men arrived, wanting to speak with both Mr Grey and Mr Nairn. It got a little nasty.”

  “Who were they?” Hunter asked. She shook her head.

  “I don’t know. Mr Grey said they were investors but I’d never met them before, but… they weren’t the usual type of clients that we see here in the office.”

  “How so?” Caslin asked, intrigued.

  “They were… I don’t know how to put it. A little bit on the rough side. I mean, don’t get me wrong, they had money, that was clear but they were… intimidating. I’ve never seen Mr Grey as animated as he was that day.”

  “What can you tell us about them?” Hunter asked.

  “Not much, really. Foreign.”

  “Foreign?” Caslin noted. “Where from?”

  “I don’t know but they spoke English with an accent. Eastern Europeans, I would say.”

  “What was the issue?”

  “They wanted payment. Apparently, they felt they were owed money and it was late in coming. There was a lot of shouting before they eventually left. I never found out the full details. I’ve no idea which development they were involved in, mind you. Mr Grey dealt with it personally. It was all very strange, though.”

  “What was?” Hunter asked.

  Again, Lisa looked over her shoulder as if fearful of being overheard before leaning closer towards them, “Mr Nairn had expensive tastes. To be fair, they both share a love of material things but Mr Nairn kept an antique watch collection here, in the safe, in his office. He handed it over to those men before they left.”

  Caslin glanced at Hunter who met his eye and flicked her eyebrows as if to signal she was equally intrigued, “Tell me, what did Mr Grey’s security do while all this was going down?”

  “He didn’t have them then,” Lisa stated. “They appeared shortly after this incident. He always has one with him in the office and never goes anywhere without the others.”

  “Shortly after Mr Nairn committed suicide?”

  “Yes,” Lisa said, her brow furrowing as she spoke. “He’d never mentioned the need for any security up until that day.”

  “What happened after they left, the investors?” Caslin pressed.

  “Mr Nairn came out of his office. He was pale… visibly shaken up. Frightened, even.”

  “And then?” Caslin asked.

  Lisa shrugged, “He left the office without another word. That was the last time I saw him. Mr Grey told us the next day that he had been found on the railway line.”

  “Had you noticed any change in Mr Nairn in the period running up to his suicide?” Hunter asked.

  “He was worried… preoccupied,” Lisa replied. “Particularly, so soon after his friend’s passing.”

  “His friend?”

  “Martin Pocock,” Lisa said. “He was a lawyer friend of both Mr Grey and Mr Nairn but I believe he was closer to the latter. He was a lovely man.”

  “And he died?”

  “Yes, it shook them both up. The week before Mr Nairn’s death, his helicopter crashed on its approach to Burleigh Park, on the weekend of the Horse Trials.”

  “How awful,” Hunter said. “What did Mr Nairn say about it?”

  “Nothing directly. He was clearly upset and had me cancel an order for his own helicopter the following day.”

  “He was buying one?”

  Lisa nodded, “Yes. The exact same model.”

  “Did you give a statement about any of this to the police?” Caslin asked.

  “No, I wasn’t asked to,” she replied. “Why, should I have? Is something wrong?”

  Caslin shook his head, “No, no. We’re just following up on a separate matter, don’t worry. Here, take this,” he said, passing her one of his contact cards from within his wallet, “and if you think of anything else, please give me a call. No matter how insignificant you think it might be. Okay?”

  They excused themselves and left the building. Neither spoke until they were in the confines of Hunter’s car. She started the engine.

  “What do you make of all that?” she asked, looking over to him. Caslin thought about it for a moment before responding.

  “I reckon there’s far more to Mr Grey than he is willing to share with us. If business is booming why has he shed employees? Plus, how many property developers have you ever come across who feel the need for a personal protection team?”

  “None. Makes you wonder where his investors come from?” Hunter said. “And the others, Nairn and Pocock? The former was a definite suicide.”

  “Without a doubt,” Caslin agreed. “Too many witnesses. What drove him to it, though, is still very much open for debate. When we get back to Fulford Road get a run down on Pocock and try to find out what brought the helicopter down. It could just be an unfortunate coincidence but you know how I feel about them. Likewise, let’s take a closer look at Thomas Grey. Do me a favour,” he said, glancing over his shoulder behind them, “and pull up around the corner, would you?”

  “Sure. Why?” Hunter asked, engaging the car in gear and reversing out of their parking space.

  “Just a hunch,” he replied. Hunter set off as if they were leaving the car park only to turn in and pull up outside the building across from Grey’s office. They were close enough to keep the entrance in view but far enough away to be confident they wouldn’t be noticed. Caslin sat back in his seat and sought to get comfortable.

 
“Where are we going with all of this?” Hunter asked, putting her head against the rest behind her. Caslin sighed. He knew he didn’t have a proper answer, not yet anyway.

  “We’ve been steered in this direction for a reason,” he said. “Although at this point, the reasoning escapes me.”

  “Who’s pointing the finger?” Hunter asked but Caslin didn’t reply, choosing to keep it to himself. At least for the time being.

  They didn’t have long to wait. The door to Grey’s business opened and out stepped the man himself, mobile phone pressed to his ear with his bodyguard one step behind. The latter was clearly agitated and saying something that Caslin couldn’t make out from such a distance. He was certainly unhappy.

  Grey reached his vehicle, a black Land Rover Discovery and unlocked it. Turning to his minder, with his back to Caslin and Hunter, he gesticulated with a raised hand, appearing dismissive. Whatever was said, he ended the call, tossed the phone into the car and climbed into the driver’s seat slamming the door shut behind him. The bodyguard stood on the path alongside the car and watched as the Discovery was fired into life. The reversing lights came on and the vehicle began to move.

  “Right. This is us,” Caslin said and Hunter sat upright, turning the key in the ignition. The car started and Hunter waited until Grey had reached the main road and was making the turn out, heading west. Only then did she engage first gear and set off to folllow.

  “Where do you think he’s going?” Hunter asked.

  “I don’t know but he’s rattled,” Caslin said as Hunter slid into the line of traffic. They were four car lengths behind and heading towards the city centre.

  Approaching the medieval walls, traffic slowed to such an extent that they would have no problem keeping up with him unless they got stuck at one of the traffic lights. Grey remained on the circular road, navigating around the city rather than entering the centre itself. “Oh, how much would I give to know what he’s thinking right now?” Caslin said aloud.

  Following the road, they crossed the Ouse, via Skeldergate Bridge, in sight of Clifford’s Tower and watched as Grey took the next right followed by an immediate left onto Cromwell Road. Here, he pulled the car into a row of empty parking bays in the shadow of an established line of Beech trees. Hunter continued on up the hill and only pulled in herself once they were a relatively safe distance ahead, so as not to be observed. Caslin shifted in his seat, looking back down the road at the Discovery. Grey remained inside and Caslin thought he was making another phone call.