The Maggie Bainbridge Box Set

by Rob Wyllie

  'Aye, winners and losers, that's what McGinley said we should look at,' Jimmy said. 'And Marc De Bruin was the big winner I guess.'

  Donahue snorted. 'Except I happen to know that's complete rubbish.'

  He looked surprised. 'How come?'

  'Because I've done my homework, and a company connected to Brasenose Trust was taking a position in Greenway shares long before De Bruin figured out what was happening.'

  'Taking a position?' Jimmy said. 'What does that mean?'

  'I think it's also called short selling,' she said, 'or shorting, or buying futures, or some crap like that. Actually, I don't really know what it means. All I know is that it allows an investor to make money if the price of a share falls.' She beamed him a smile. 'It's all double-Dutch to me.'

  He grinned. 'Me too. But I thought that sort of thing was illegal. Insider trading isn't it?'

  'Well it would have been if Morgan had actually carried out any trading. But he didn't.'

  Jimmy looked mystified. 'Sorry, I'm lost here, you'll need to help me out.'

  'Well, Hugo obviously was on to something, some inside information as you say, that he knew would cause the shares to drop in value. But then when he found out just how big that something was, he quickly changed his plans. Realised he'd never pull off the short selling operation without being detected.'

  Jimmy smiled. 'Aye, I get it now. So he decides to spill the beans on the fact that the ore that's being extracted is way down on cobalt content, causing the share price to crash and the banks to panic.'

  'Exactly,' Donahue said, 'and when the banks decided to pull the plug, he waltzed in and picked it up from the administrators for a song. His offer was way below asset value, but since it was the only deal in town they had little option but to go along with it. The banks got about a quarter of their money back and felt themselves lucky not to have lost everything, and Morgan paid off a couple of the big institutional shareholders because he knew he would need their support going forward, but the small shareholders got nothing.'

  'Those would be the 'B' shares?' Jimmy said.

  'Oh, you've heard of them? Yeah, what a rip-off that was. You handed over your cash for a bit of paper that could only be redeemed by the company itself, on some never-never date in the future. But the thing was, that was the work of Belinda Milner and her fancy City advisors. Nothing to do with Morgan at all. He just spotted they weren't worth the paper they were printed on, and that's what caused the real stink up here. There was a ton of local investors, ordinary folks who'd bet all their savings on the big sure-fire deal.'

  'Belinda Milner? She was the boss wasn't she? The woman who drowned herself.'

  'Yeah, she was,' Donahue said, her tone non-committal. Jimmy stayed silent for a few seconds, but it was clear that the reporter wasn't planning to elaborate, so he decided to park that line of enquiry for now. Instead he said,

  'Actually, I wanted to ask you about something connected to the local investors and the B shares and all that. A story I think you wrote for your wee paper. About one of the miners who lost a hundred and fifty grand I think it was. And then killed himself.'

  'Not so much of the wee paper if you don't mind.' She screwed up her face in mock hurt. 'You must be talking about the Tompkins family. William Tompkins was one of the foreman at the mine and he got really taken in by the great big fairytale Belinda Milner and her mates were spinning. So not only did he invest all his savings in the project, he persuaded his extended family to do the same. Brothers, sisters, cousins, even his mum and dad, they all chipped in to buy shares. And of course they lost the lot. Everything.'

  'And so he killed himself. Another tragedy.'

  She nodded. 'A terrible death too. He swallowed about a hundred paracetamol tablets.'

  Jimmy wondered how that would feel like, to see your dreams of a comfortable future snatched from you by events outside your control. You were likely to be seriously pissed off, and in your anger, it would probably never occur to you that by and large you were the architect of your own misfortune. But if you had also been responsible for the same fate befalling your entire family, then that would be a wholly different kettle of fish. He could imagine the shame would be unbearable, and for William Tompkins it had been so unbearable that he had taken his own life.

  But placing all your eggs in one basket was as dumb an investment strategy as he could think of, and yet hundreds of the locals had fallen into that trap, plunging their money into what they surely must have understood to be a high-risk venture. And now that it had all fallen apart, it was only natural that they would look for someone to blame, and that someone was Hugo Morgan and his avaricious investment trust. As he understood it, Morgan had been under no obligation to pay them anything, but a small gesture would have won him a ton of goodwill in the area and he wondered if he would live to rue that decision one day. Actions have consequences. And the people behind Justice for Greenway, whoever they were, seemed to be intent on an escalating campaign.

  'I'm guessing these Tompkins aren't very happy. Do you think they might try to get revenge? Because someone's running a harassment campaign against Morgan, Justice for Greenway is what it's called. Fairly low-level stuff at the moment but there have been some more serious threats.'

  'Justice for Greenway you say? Well that's interesting, because there's been a few incidents up here under that banner. A couple directed at Milner and a couple at Marc De Bruin. It does cross my mind that the Tompkins lot might be behind it, but to be honest, there's a thousand people up here who might have done it. And these Tompkins, let's just say they're not the brightest sandwiches in the picnic. But having said that, they're pretty pissed off with the whole situation, that's for sure, so perhaps it is them. I really couldn't say.'

  'Maybe I should go and see one of these guys,' Jimmy said. 'They live locally I assume?'

  She grinned. 'Yeah, Whitehaven. But I wouldn't go alone if I was you, not if you're planning to mention you're working for Morgan. They're pretty handy with their fists, that's what I've heard.'

  'Thanks for that Liz. Forewarned is forearmed, eh?' He didn't like to tell her that he'd done plenty of door-knocking out in Helmand where the residents were often pretty handy with the improvised explosive devices and the AK-47s. Compared to that, dealing with the Tompkins would be child's play. That was the theory anyway. It remained to be seen how it worked out in practice. But the more he thought about it, the less likely it seemed that this family would be behind a sophisticated London-based harassment campaign. Nonetheless it was a line of enquiry that would need to be followed up.

  'I assume you have an address? Not that it should be too hard to track him down I guess.'

  She chuckled. 'I thought you were supposed to be the investigator? Yeah, of course I have it, one of the sons. And I'll give it to you if I can tag along when you go visiting. There should be another story in that.'

  He laughed. 'Ok, it's a deal Liz, I'll look forward to that. Now, do you mind if I ask you about the story you were going to give to our mate Gary McGinley. The Greenway one.'

  Her eyes narrowed. 'Look Jimmy, this could be the biggest thing that's ever happened to me in my career. I need to know I can trust you.'

  'Of course, I get that, totally.' And in that moment, it became clear what he should do. He had only just met Liz Donahue, but already he knew she was good and honest, a quality that experience had taught him was not always in ready supply in this world. Besides which, she was immersed in the life of the community up here and if anyone could help them work out who was behind the harassment of Hugo Morgan, it was her. He gave her one of his special smiles.

  'And I'd be exactly the same if I was in your position Liz, believe me. So, see what you think about this. Tell me, when's your paper planning on running your big story?'

  She dropped her voice to a whisper, as if worried they would be overheard. 'In about a week I hope, but I've not even told Jonathan my editor the details yet. There's just one more fact I have to verify and t
hen it'll be ready to go. All I've said to him is it's huge and he'll probably have to get it checked out with the owners in Swindon and then it'll probably have to go through legal.'

  'Woah, it must be huge.'

  'It is. Bigger than any story I've ever done in my life.' He saw her face flush as if overwhelmed by the anticipation of what it would mean to her.

  He nodded. 'Aye, well I respect that you would want to protect it, absolutely. All I ask is if it had any bearing on the Justice for Greenway thing, then you'll tell me everything you know afterwards.' He knew it was a lot to ask given how little he was able to offer in return. But then again, they were working for Hugo Morgan. Out of the blue, the thought came to him.

  'And maybe, and I'm not promising anything, we could get you an interview with the man himself. Give him the chance to put his point of view direct to the community. I'm guessing you'd welcome that opportunity?'

  Her eyes widened. 'You could do that?'

  He nodded. 'I think so. To be honest, he feels a bit hard done to, I mean not that I feel sorry for him or anything. But he is adamant it was the previous management who screwed up and I think he'd like to put the record straight. As he sees it of course.'

  'That would be amazing, definitely.'

  Jimmy suddenly had a thought. 'Just one thing though Liz. This article. It doesn't concern Morgan in any way does it? Because if it does, he might not be so willing to cooperate.'

  He could tell by the way she looked at him that he had struck a nerve.

  'Yeah, it concerns Morgan all right. Big time. You see, I think I know how he found out about the problem with the cobalt yield, and it wasn't because Marc De Bruin told him, no matter what McGinley might think.'

  'Bloody hell,' he said, 'so come on now, are you going to tell me who it was?' He knew she wouldn't, but there was no harm in asking. She was silent for a moment, Jimmy guessing she was deciding how much she should reveal. Finally she said,

  'Look, I've got an idea. Why don't we see if we can meet with Tompkins tomorrow morning, ask him what he knows? You could stay at my place tonight, it's just round the corner. Ruthie was making a big veggie lasagne and baking some bread, so I'm sure there'll be more than enough to go round.'

  'Ruthie?'

  'My wife. She's lovely, and she's a very good judge of people. You'll like her.'

  Jimmy laughed. 'So I'll be under scrutiny, will I?'

  'Put it that way if you like. But I'm sure she'll like you too, and if she does... well, maybe I'll tell you more. So what do you say Mr Detective? Deal?'

  He hesitated for a moment. 'I was actually planning to head back tonight but...well, I suppose it wouldn't do any harm to talk to the Tompkins lot whilst I'm up here. Yeah, Liz, let's do it.'

  She smiled warmly. 'That's great Jimmy. I'll message Ruthie and tell her to expect one more for dinner.'

  'Fantastic,' he said. 'So maybe I'll just catch the bus down to the lake and have a wee wander round, and then pick up a bottle of wine or two. Oh aye, and a tooth brush and a razor.'

  On the bus, he took out his phone and, suppressing a laugh, composed a careful WhatsApp to his boss.

  Hi Maggie, going well up here in the lovely Lakes. Staying the night with Liz! Just popping down to Boots for some overnight supplies, if you know what I mean :-) x

  ◆◆◆

  All in all, it had been a cracking evening. As Liz had intimated, her wife Ruthie was sweet and lovely, and to his surprise, much younger than her spouse, not far off his own age in fact - and very pretty. Disconcertingly pretty in fact, so much so that he had barely been able to take his eyes off her the whole night, which had every prospect of being a bit awkward. But far from being offended, Liz had seemed amused and even flattered by his obvious attentions and it was clear too that Ruthie was deeply besotted by her wife. As the wine flowed, so did the laughter, which was the accompaniment to what he half-remembered as sparkling conversation. With him doing most of the talking. Maybe not so good.

  Breakfast had been set for 8am, and he awoke to the enticing smells of bacon and sausages frying on the griddle pan, Ruthie's semi-militant veganism seemingly no obstacle to rustling up a hearty start to the day for their guest. A long hot shower went some way to blasting away his emerging hangover, and there was a distinct spring in his step as he made his way downstairs. Liz was already at the little kitchen table, munching on a slice of toast which he guessed had been made from the leftovers of the delicious home-baked ciabatta from the previous evening.

  'Morning Jimmy,' she said, a wicked smile on her face. 'Sweet dreams?'

  'Out like a light.'

  Ruthie called over from the hob. 'Glad to hear it. Two eggs or three? And do you prefer them runny like Liz?'

  'You know what, I know it's greedy but I could deal with three no bother. And yes, soft please.'

  'On their way. I must say Jimmy, you were on good form last night. All these stories from your army days. Fascinating.'

  He gave an embarrassed smile. 'Oh God, did I really talk that much? I'm sorry. I'll blame the wine and the great company.'

  'Sounds like you were a real action man,' Liz said, laughing, 'which might come in useful when we meet the Tompkins bunch this morning.'

  And so it had proved. They arrived on Wayne Tompkins' Whitehaven doorstep after a pleasant ninety-minute drive through beautiful Lakeland countryside. Outside stood a battered white van which evidently his father had used for the handyman business he started up after losing his job in the mine. W Tompkins & Sons. Building works, gardens cleared. No job too small. Liz had mentioned that his brother had lost his job too. No savings, no job and few prospects. Added to the death of their father, it was no surprise they felt sore about the whole thing.

  Tompkins had answered the door himself, and when Liz asked him straight out if he or any of his extended family were behind the Justice for Greenway stuff, he let out a string of invective, and for a moment it looked as if things might get violent. That was, until he took another look at Jimmy, and decided that he was likely to come off second best in any altercation with the six-foot-two fourteen-stone ex-soldier. After that, he calmed down and it soon became clear that his overriding emotion regarding the Greenway affair was sadness, not anger. Although he stopped short of inviting them in.

  'My family's lost all their savings because of them people. They trusted my dad and they lost everything. Bastards, all of them.'

  'Who do you mean?' Jimmy asked.

  'Milner, Morgan, all of them. Bloody vultures.'

  'It didn't work out well for Belinda Milner though, did it?'

  He shrugged. 'Well, yeah that was a tragedy for her kid and her bloke. We didn't want that to happen. But she was a right cow, and no mistake.'

  'We? Who's we?'

  'My family. But we didn't do nothing, honest we didn't.' That caused Liz and Jimmy to smile at one another. Guilt was written all over this guy's face.

  'Someone graffiti'd her house, just a day or two before she died,' Liz said. 'Justice for Greenway in foot-high letters.'

  Jimmy nodded. 'And a few days later, someone daubed the same message on Morgan's garden wall down in London. A wee bit of a coincidence, don't you think?'

  'Nowt to do with us,' he said defensively, 'although I can't says that I'm not glad.'

  They were disturbed by the deafening sound of a rorty car exhaust, Jimmy glancing round to catch sight of a lowered Fiesta pulling up sharply behind the Tompkins van. The elderly car had been treated to a plainly expensive paint-job, a glimmering sea of purples and vermilions reflecting the morning sun in their eyes.

  'That's my brother Karl.'

  'Nice wheels,' Jimmy said.

  'Yeah he's into his motors,' Tompkins said, his pride obvious. 'That's his business in fact, does them up for all the lads around here. Nice little earner it is.'

  I bet it is, Jimmy thought, the ownership of a crassly-customised hot hatch as much a class identifier in these parts as a tattoo. Karl Tompkins was around thirty, a couple of
years younger than his brother, stocky but broad and almost as muscle-packed as Jimmy, his hair cropped short and wearing a black sleeveless top that displayed tattoo-infested biceps. So far, so stereotypical.

  'What's this?' he said, ignoring them and addressing his brother.

  'She's from the Gazette. He's some sort of private eye. They want to know about Justice for Greenway. I told them we didn't know nothing.'

  'So who says we do?' The brother's tone was distinctly aggressive and it was instructive he had directed the comment at Liz, because Jimmy knew a bully when he saw one. But there was something else he recognised. A regimental tattoo.

  'Royal Engineers eh? Served alongside a lot of you boys out in Helmand. Great bunch of lads.'

  Karl seemed momentarily nonplussed. 'What? Yeah, they was. You was there too then?'

  'Aye, too right,' Jimmy said. 'Bomb squad. Mental it was.' He didn't mention that he had been an officer. In his experience, squaddies either developed a lifelong respect for authority or they went completely the other way. He had only encountered Karl Tompkins for two seconds but he had no doubt which side of the fence this guy would sit on.

  'Yeah these fecken' IEDs were everywhere. Took a lot of our mates they did. But you lads were fecken' brave, and make no mistake. I wouldn't have done it.'

  'Just doing my job, same as everyone,' Jimmy said. 'How long were you in?'

  'He was in eight years,' his brother interjected, 'Made sergeant. Bloody proud we was, the whole family. Especially my dad.'

  'Then you got a job in the mine when you came out,' Liz said. 'A really good job, so it must have been gutting for you, everything that happened last year. You know, the Morgan stuff and all that.'

  Karl looked at her suspiciously. 'Yeah, he's a bastard all right. Treated everyone round here like shit. But what's that got to do with you?'

  'We're working for him,' Jimmy said. 'Someone calling themselves Justice for Greenway has been harassing him. So naturally we thought it would be good to start up here, given this is where the mine is.'