Bridge to Burn

by Rachel Amphlett

She gave him a faint smile, then stepped into the corridor beyond and let the door swing shut behind her before hurrying up the stairs.

  Quickly shedding her outer layers of clothing, Kay crossed the incident room to the kettle, flipped the switch and set about arranging four mugs for her and her team of detectives.

  Barnes was the first to arrive, cursing at full volume about the state of the traffic and lack of parking near the police station, before he was drowned out by Carys who burst through the door on the heels of Gavin and proclaiming the stationery cupboard had been ransacked by a detective sergeant leading a series of burglary investigations in the room next door.

  ‘Debbie will have a fit when she sees what he’s done,’ she said, taking a steaming mug of coffee from Kay. ‘Thanks, guv.’

  ‘Well you can tell her, I’m not,’ said Gavin. ‘She’s scary when she’s pissed off.’

  Kay let the banter subside while her colleagues switched on their computers, and then corralled them around her desk.

  ‘Right, I’ll do the briefing at eight-thirty so check your emails, get updates from the rest of the team and then we’ll make a start,’ she said. ‘Our focus today is determining whether Damien Brancourt left the country and, if he did, where he is right now. This afternoon, we’ll look at any connection between him and the protests last year. What time are interviews with his friends and acquaintances, Carys?’

  ‘Nine-thirty, guv.’ Carys smiled. ‘I remember what I was like as a student so I figured there was no point asking them to come in any earlier.’

  ‘Fair enough. Did you manage to get hold of Julie Rowe?’

  ‘Yes – she’s booked in for eleven forty-five. Here’s the complete list. Is there anyone else on there that you’d like to speak to?’

  Kay ran her gaze down the names and brief summaries Carys and Debbie had collated over the weekend, and then stabbed her finger on the page. ‘This one’s new. Shaun Browning. It says here he’s known Damien since they were at grammar school together.’

  ‘Hughes arranged the interview after speaking with one of Damien’s other friends,’ said Carys. ‘He’s due in at three o’clock – does that fit in with your plans?’

  ‘Yes, should be fine, thanks.’

  Kay handed back the paperwork before running her eye down a list of actions from the HOLMES database that were displayed on her screen, all gleaned from entries made by the investigative team as they worked and then prioritised by the software’s algorithms to assist her with the management of the inquiry.

  She checked her watch. ‘Too early to expect a phone call from the Border Agency, Gav. What about that CCTV footage?’

  ‘I chased up my contact at Heathrow half an hour ago – he’d just started his shift,’ said the detective constable. ‘He’s going to upload it directly to a secure file transfer protocol site Andy Grey’s provided him with. That way, Andy and his team can make a start as soon as it comes through. I’ll get a message from Andy when he’s got it and I’ll log that in the system.’

  ‘Thanks. Let me know as soon as Andy has any news about Damien. Ian – how’s your contact in the British Consulate over in Nepal coming along?’

  ‘I got an email from him this morning saying he’s waiting for confirmation from the airport in Kathmandu, but—’ Barnes broke off as his phone rang. ‘Hello?’

  Kay resisted the urge to pace the floor as he spoke into the receiver, knowing from experience that a lead could come from anywhere, at any time. There was never a set way an investigation would unfold, and interruptions were a constant expectation.

  The older detective replaced the handset and jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards the door. ‘That was Simon on the desk downstairs. Amanda Miller is here – the financial investigator from HQ.’

  ‘We’ll use Sharp’s old office. Do you want to go and get her?’

  ‘Back in a minute. Oh, and like I was saying – nothing from Nepal yet.’

  Kay acknowledged the update, and then buttoned her suit jacket and entered the DCI’s old office.

  Thankfully the cleaners had been in the previous week before the investigation had begun in earnest, so the thin layer of dust she’d spotted on the desk and filing cabinets had been swept away, the remnants of Sharp’s presence tidied into neat piles of folders and investigative manuals to one side of a dormant computer.

  Kay pulled a threadbare visitor’s chair away from the desk and shoved it under the window before substituting it for a different, more comfortable one and then tried not to pace the room while she waited.

  The carpet was already worn from Sharp’s days of leading investigations from the small police station, and given the budget cuts sweeping the police service, she didn’t think a replacement would be installed any time soon.

  A polite cough from Barnes preceded a short brunette woman in her mid-fifties entering the office, her face set in a determined expression and a battered leather briefcase in one hand.

  Kay held out her hand. ‘Amanda Miller?’

  ‘That’s me. Good to meet you, DI Hunter.’

  ‘Please, call me Kay. Would you like tea or coffee?’ Kay gestured to the visitor’s chairs as Barnes followed Amanda into the room and closed the door.

  ‘I’m fine, thanks.’

  ‘Okay.’ Kay took Sharp’s old seat and rested her hands on the worn ink blotter the DCI had insisted on using. ‘I’ll be completely honest with you, Amanda. I haven’t worked with a financial investigator before, so what do you need from me?’

  The woman’s lips creased into a smile. ‘Well, why don’t I begin by telling you what I do, and then we’ll devise a plan for your particular problem?’

  Twenty-Five

  Amanda Miller opened her briefcase and handed Kay and Barnes a slim bound document each.

  ‘When DS Barnes contacted me at the end of last week, the first thing I did was ask for an overview of your investigation to date, together with the matters that give you cause for concern as far as my expertise can help you,’ she said. ‘Based on that, I’ve drawn up a scope of work that will act as a guide for my contribution – we can discuss that now, and this is your opportunity to make any amendments to that scope so that we all have a clear understanding of what you need me to do. Does that sound okay?’

  Kay nodded, flipping through the pages before her. ‘Yes. So, given what you’ve read so far about our dealings with Sutton Site Security and the allegations against them, what do you suggest we do next?’

  Amanda placed her briefcase on the floor beside her chair and crossed her legs. ‘I’ll be using our ELMER database to start off with. That’s what we log all Suspicious Activity Reports into – it helps to build up a story about a company or person over time, and keeps all the information in one place for ease of reference, very similar I suppose to your HOLMES system. The SARs are provided by the financial industry – banks, pension companies, et cetera. Using ELMER, I’ll be looking for any evidence of unexplained wealth, unusual cash deposits or pay-outs, that sort of thing. I have access to account numbers, bank statements, pensions, mortgages – everything. We’ll soon find out if Mark Sutton’s income from his security business is sufficient to support his lifestyle.’

  ‘How does that help us?’ said Barnes. ‘I mean, we’re trying to find out if he had anything to do with the death of Damien Brancourt, not whether he paid his taxes last year.’

  Amanda smiled. ‘I realise that. This first stage of my work is to build a profile about Sutton, so we can see what we’re dealing with. Once I have that, we can start to analyse his accounts and pull apart his business at a micro level. For example, does he have more staff on his various contracts than he claims to be paying? That would indicate he’s paying them in cash – now, to me that says two things. He’s either dodging tax, or he’s using the cash he pays to off-the-books employees to launder money coming into the business. Another example – you stated in your email to me, Ian, that you’d received allegations against Mark Sutton that he’d threatene
d a construction company in order to win work and had stolen two generators and equipment from them to coerce them into awarding that work to him. You also stated that when you attended Sutton’s offices last week, there were no plant vehicles near the building. So, how did he steal the equipment? Did he hire vehicles to remove it from Brancourt and Sons’ yard? If he did, how did he pay for it? Can we find evidence that way? Do you see what I mean?’

  ‘Got you,’ said Barnes. ‘What about the people who work for him? I can’t imagine Mark Sutton would dirty his hands – he’d get someone else to steal the equipment for him and carry out any threats on site.’

  ‘Well, there’s always the use of cash machines and tying that in to any CCTV footage you can get,’ said Amanda. ‘Once I’ve delved into the banking records for the company I can ascertain what debit cards have been issued to Sutton and his staff. I can also see if those cards have been used anywhere near Brancourt’s premises, home or work sites. I’ll put together a comprehensive map of the area showing the usage for each card and we can go from there. Does that sound good to you?’

  Kay sat back in her chair, her excitement building. ‘It does, yes. What do you need from us at this stage?’

  ‘I’ve already got clearance from HQ for the HOLMES records relating to this investigation,’ said Amanda. ‘The best way to do this – and I’m speaking from experience – is to let me have a couple of days to flush out the final details I need about Sutton Site Security from the SARs on file and your interviews to date, and then I’ll provide you with an interim report in a few days to let you know where I’m up to and the steps I believe we need to follow after that. Don’t worry,’ she added, seeing the look of horror that crossed Barnes’s face, ‘there won’t be lots of paperwork for you to wade through; I appreciate you’ve got other angles of this investigation to follow. Think of it more as a checklist – a way for you to ensure our two investigations are complementing each other. It also gives you the opportunity to steer me towards any other matters you’ve found that you want me to take a look at.’

  Kay turned to a fresh page of her notebook and jotted down the agreed action plan. ‘That sounds good. Is there anything else we should be aware of?’

  ‘Yes. I must insist that until my investigation is concluded we keep my involvement confidential. We can’t afford to let anyone at Sutton Site Security know that we’re doing this. At present, it’s only a desktop study but if I can find something you can use as leverage against them in relation to your case, I’ll let you know immediately.’

  Kay rose from her seat and held out her hand. ‘This is a thorough scope, thank you. We’ve got a desk for you in the incident room ready and waiting. Barnes – could you show Amanda where to find everything out there, and then we’ll catch up?’

  ‘Guv.’

  The older detective showed Amanda to the door, and as they disappeared from sight Kay wandered over to the window and let her gaze drift across the car park below.

  The financial investigator’s enthusiasm was infectious; Kay could feel the excitement clutching at her chest.

  Surely they would find something they could use against Mark Sutton?

  What if he had threatened Damien Brancourt in order to coerce his father into awarding the contract? Had Damien somehow discovered about the fraudulent contract award and confronted Sutton?

  She turned at the sound of footsteps.

  Barnes closed the door and raised an eyebrow. ‘Bloody hell, Kay – she’s good.’

  ‘I hope so, Ian. We haven’t got much else to go on at the moment.’

  Twenty-Six

  Kay stabbed the code into the keypad on the door to interview room two with her forefinger and stepped over the threshold, closing the door before crossing to the table at the far end of the room.

  Carys sat on one side of it, her notebook open to a fresh page.

  As Kay approached, she took in the sight of the slim woman sitting opposite the detective constable.

  Julie Rowe picked at the skin on her thumbnail, her brown hair pulled into a severe top knot that did nothing for her appearance. Her mouth wore a petulant expression as she raised her gaze to Kay.

  ‘Julie Rowe? Thanks for coming in,’ she said.

  ‘Didn’t have much of a choice, did I?’

  Kay ignored the remark and instead turned to Carys. ‘Shall we make a start?’

  Carys nodded, then recited the standard caution for a witness interview. That done, she opened the folder.

  ‘Julie, can you begin by telling us how you know Damien Brancourt?’

  Kay silently congratulated her younger protégée. At present, they were working on the basis that the Brancourts’ insistence that the body found in the ceiling of the Petersham Building wasn’t Damien, and Carys had chosen to interview each of his friends and acquaintances accordingly. No mention of the possibility that Damien Brancourt had met his death on his father’s construction site was to be made during the discussions.

  ‘Uni. A few years ago.’

  ‘Were you studying the same subjects?’ said Carys.

  ‘God, no.’ Julie choked out a laugh. ‘He was studying business, project management – stuff like that. I was finishing a master’s degree in politics.’

  ‘Are you older than him?’

  ‘By about a year and a half, yeah. We got talking in the student union bar one night. He was working there to earn a bit of extra money.’

  ‘It’s a long way from having a drink to staging a protest,’ said Carys. ‘How’d you get involved with that?’

  Julie shrugged, her gaze dropping to her hands. ‘Seems stupid now, looking back.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Well, we just wanted to make a point, y’know? There’s better things for the council to be spending money on around here than doing up old buildings.’

  ‘Who organised the protests?’

  ‘I did.’ Julie shuffled in her seat and sat up straighter. ‘I knew that if I didn’t, they’d never happen. Everyone else – including Damien – were talkers, not doers.’

  ‘How did you convince Damien Brancourt to get involved, given that his father was one of the construction managers for the redevelop projects?’

  A faint smile crossed Julie’s lips. ‘I think he and his dad had had a disagreement of some sort a few days before. I think it was Damien’s way of sticking two fingers up at his parents, that’s all.’ Her face clouded. ‘Hey, he’s not in trouble is he? Damien, I mean.’

  ‘When was the last time you saw him?’ said Kay.

  The woman exhaled as she gazed at the ceiling. ‘Um, I guess it must’ve been June. Yeah. Before it got really hot.’

  ‘Did he say what his plans were for the summer?’

  ‘Yeah. Lucky bugger was going travelling. Nepal, I think.’

  ‘How close were you with Damien before he left?’ said Carys.

  ‘We weren’t sleeping together, if that’s what you mean,’ said Julie, wrinkling her nose. ‘Not my type. Bit posh, to be honest. Have you seen his parents’ house? It’s massive.’

  ‘You’ve been there?’

  Julie shook her head. ‘Not inside – I had to drop him off there after one of our demonstrations.’

  ‘He didn’t drive?’

  ‘Said he didn’t want a car. Probably because he was off travelling – no point having one and it sitting on the driveway for nearly a year, right?’

  ‘Tell us about the incident at the protest,’ said Kay. ‘Damien was arrested for an altercation with one of the security guards.’

  ‘Bloody idiot. I told all of them that it was meant to be a peaceful protest, but Damien didn’t listen. I don’t know what started it – I only heard the bloke shout after Damien went for him, but afterwards when I asked, Damien said the man had insulted his dad, so he punched him.’

  Carys flipped through her notes. ‘That was the security guard, Jeff Donovan?’

  ‘I don’t know his name. He was wearing one of those uniforms with the three S�
��s embroidered on the front of it – over his heart.’

  ‘Did you speak to Damien after he was released?’

  ‘Only briefly.’ Julie sighed and leaned back in her seat. ‘I told him I didn’t want him to come to any more demonstrations if he couldn’t keep his temper under control. I don’t need that sort of trouble on my record.’

  ‘Your record?’ said Carys.

  Julie’s features brightened. ‘Yes. I’m planning to run for Parliament one day. Represent local interests on a national level.’

  ‘Were you or Damien ever threatened during or after the protest?’ said Kay.

  The woman shook her head. ‘No. That’s the thing. The only person who threatened anyone was Damien when he went after that bloke. I heard him say it.’

  ‘Say what?’

  ‘That if he and his boss didn’t leave Damien’s dad alone, they’d regret it.’

  Twenty-Seven

  Kay leaned against the plasterwork of the corridor from the interview suite and watched as Carys led Julie Rowe back through the doors to the reception area.

  The woman’s witness statement troubled her.

  She’d read the formal documentation following Damien Brancourt’s arrest, and no formal complaint had been made against him in relation to the alleged threats he’d made towards Jeffrey Donovan, the security guard.

  They only had Julie’s assertion that there was more to the scuffle than a student protest.

  What had Damien been up to? What had he been trying to achieve?

  Kay pushed herself away from the wall as Carys reappeared, wearing a perplexed expression that Kay was sure matched her own.

  ‘What do you think, guv?’ she said.

  ‘Have any of his other friends mentioned anything about threats towards Sutton Site Security?’

  ‘I haven’t heard anything yet, but Gavin and Parker should be completing the last of the interviews in about half an hour.’

  ‘All right. We’ll have an early briefing to go over the highlights rather than wait for all the information to be updated into HOLMES. Why don’t you take a break and get yourself some lunch? You’ve been going nonstop since this time last week.’