Bridge to Burn

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Bridge to Burn Page 14

by Rachel Amphlett


  Barnes emitted a low whistle. ‘Bloody hell, Amanda. Good work.’

  ‘I’ll second that,’ said Kay, unable to keep the sense of wonder from her voice as she skim-read the report. ‘Thank you.’

  She waited until Amanda had retaken her seat, and then moved to the whiteboard, pen in hand.

  ‘Okay, next steps. I want Barry Esher – also known as Adrian Sutton – and Gary Hudson brought in for questioning as soon as possible. We’re treating them as suspects, so act accordingly. Gavin, can you liaise with uniform to organise that?’

  ‘Guv.’

  ‘Next, Carys – can you take Debbie and Hughes with you and interview the workers at the car wash this morning? I realise you might not get much out of them if they are indeed over here illegally, but do your best.

  ‘Finally, Ian and Amanda – I want court orders raised today to seize Sutton Site Security records and computers for forensic examination immediately. In particular, we’re looking for documentary evidence as to how they were removing the stolen equipment from John Brancourt’s yard and any other extortion rackets that might have resulted in Damien’s death.’

  Sergeant Hughes raised his hand. ‘Do you want me to organise a team to go to the premises when you have those, guv?’

  ‘Please,’ said Kay. She held up the report. ‘Someone at Mark Sutton’s business knows what’s going on, and I’m betting if we squeeze hard enough, we’ll find the answers. Let’s get a move on.’

  Thirty-Three

  Six hours later, Kay followed Carys across to the table where Gary Hudson sat next to his solicitor.

  He’d lost some of the swagger he’d had when she last saw him, a deep furrow appearing between his eyebrows as he saw the thick file Carys placed in front of Kay before opening her notebook and reaching across to the recording equipment.

  Kay listened while her colleague read out the formal warning and then savoured the silence that followed.

  Hudson fidgeted in his seat, then took a breath.

  ‘Perhaps you could explain to my client why he’s here?’ said the solicitor. ‘He’s a busy man, DI Hunter, and his time is valuable. He’s already spoken to you to help with your enquiries and has no other information to offer.’

  Kay opened the file, and then slid across a photograph of Adrian Sutton. ‘When did this man start working for Sutton Site Security?’

  Hudson blinked. ‘Barry? About two years ago.’

  ‘What’s his surname?’

  ‘Esher.’

  ‘Where’s he from?’

  ‘No idea.’

  ‘Do you call him by any other name?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Does Mark Sutton call him by any other name?’

  Hudson shrugged. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Really?’ Kay smiled at Hudson, and then pulled a photocopied certificate from the file and placed it on the table next to the photograph. ‘See, we know Barry Esher was born Adrian Sutton. He’s Mark’s cousin, isn’t he?’

  Hudson’s jaw worked, but he stayed silent.

  ‘Did you know Barry Esher was related to Mark Sutton?’ said Carys.

  ‘He might have mentioned it.’

  ‘He’s got a hell of a reputation, hasn’t he?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Carys flipped her notebook to a different page. ‘Actual bodily harm, intimidation – is he really the sort of person you’d want working for a reputable security company?’

  ‘That’s not for me to say.’

  ‘Whose idea was it to employ him?’

  ‘Mark, I suppose. I don’t know. He just turned up one day and Mark said he was able to help with a job we had on at the time.’

  ‘Where was that?’

  ‘Christ, I don’t know – it was two years ago. You’d have to ask Mark. He’ll probably have it written down somewhere.’

  ‘We will,’ said Kay. ‘Who has the final decision on new employees?’

  ‘Mark, of course. He’s the boss.’

  ‘Did Barry work on the Petersham Building project over the summer?’

  ‘I don’t think so, no. He was managing a job over in Thanet somewhere.’

  Kay pushed a different document towards him. ‘Then explain to me why he signed in at the Petersham Building on June twenty-seventh, the day Damien Brancourt went missing.’

  Hudson leaned closer to run his eyes down the page, but kept his hands in his pockets. Finally, he looked up. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘But weren’t you managing that site?’

  ‘It doesn’t mean I was there all the time. That’s what we have staff for.’ A smug smile twitched his features.

  ‘So, you’re telling me you never saw Adrian Sutton – Barry Esher – at the Petersham Building that day?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  Kay’s heart skipped a beat, but she kept her face passive as she pulled out a photograph from the folder and slapped it in front of him.

  ‘Then perhaps you can explain why we have this CCTV image of you and Adrian next to the Queen Victoria monument on the High Street at three-thirty that afternoon.’

  Hudson’s Adam’s apple bobbed as a panicked expression crossed his face.

  His solicitor placed a hand on his arm.

  ‘I’d like to take a moment with my client, please, Detective Hunter.’

  ‘Thought you might.’

  Kay swept the documents and photograph into the folder, ended the interview recording and followed Carys from the room.

  ‘What do you think?’ said Carys after she’d closed the door and moved further along the corridor away from the interview room.

  ‘He’s going to try to distance himself from whatever the Suttons were up to,’ said Kay. ‘Hudson’s already done time, and he’s not going to want to go back to prison in a hurry.’

  ‘Perhaps he knows they killed Damien.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ Kay turned as the solicitor appeared in the corridor and beckoned to her. ‘Okay, let’s find out.’

  She waited until Carys restarted the recording and recited the date and time, and then folded her hands on the table. ‘All right, Gary. What do you want to say to us?’

  ‘Mark Sutton told me to meet Barry – Adrian – in Maidstone that afternoon. All I did was pass a mobile phone to him and tell him to expect a call from Mark later that day.’

  ‘Was this mobile phone different to Adrian’s usual phone?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Why would Mark do that?’

  ‘I don’t know. I swear, I don’t know. I gave him the phone, then drove back to the office. That’s it. That’s all I did.’

  ‘Did you see Adrian go in the Petersham Building?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What direction did he go in when you parted ways?’

  ‘I don’t know. He made me go first. Said he didn’t need me to hang about.’

  ‘Did you look back?’

  ‘No. I know when to follow orders.’ He sat up straighter. ‘Mark runs a tight ship, all right? He might have been a bit of a lad in his younger days, but he knows what he’s doing. He has good people working for him.’

  Kay drummed her fingertips on the desk, and frowned. ‘Then why would Mark take on Adrian knowing he had a previous record for actual bodily harm?’

  Hudson spread his hands. ‘Everyone deserves a second chance, Detective Hunter.’

  Thirty-Four

  The man who sat across the table from Kay and Carys in interview room four had the look and presence of someone who had done time and savoured the reputation.

  Adrian Sutton had none of the looks or charm his cousin possessed. His nose had been broken in several places over the years, and he confirmed his name with a voice laced with hatred.

  Kay lifted the cover of the file before her. ‘Well, well you have been a busy man, haven’t you?’

  His jaw clenched. ‘I haven’t broken the law.’

  ‘CCTV images from Maidstone High Street show you meeting Gary Hudson and taking a mo
bile phone from him,’ said Kay and spun the photograph around to show him. ‘Why?’

  ‘It was broken and needed to be fixed.’

  ‘Are you saying he couldn’t arrange to do that himself?’

  ‘I’m in charge of things like that.’

  ‘So, why meet in the middle of Maidstone? Why would Mark tell him to do that?’

  ‘Dunno. You’ll have to ask Mark. He’s the boss.’

  ‘Did you threaten John Brancourt in order to get the work at the Petersham Building?’ said Kay.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You heard me.’

  ‘Don’t be daft. That’s illegal, and I told you – I haven’t broken the law.’

  ‘But you have in the past, haven’t you? Before you worked for Sutton Site Security. What job is it you do for your cousin?’

  Adrian sneered in response, but stayed silent.

  Carys smiled and held up the deed poll. ‘These are really only as good as the paper they’re written on, Adrian. Your original name still appears on record. You might tell people to call you Barry Esher, but that’s as far as it’ll get you. It’s not as if you can change your fingerprints as easily, is it? So, what does your role at Sutton Site Security entail?’

  ‘Not much.’

  ‘Really? Well, for someone who’s not doing much you’re being well paid, aren’t you?’ Kay tugged a sheaf of bank statements from the folder and held them out. ‘I’m guessing these don’t show everything Mark’s paying you. Just enough to make it all seem legitimate, right? Cash in hand for the rest?’

  She shoved the security sign-in sheet across the table. ‘Why did you go to the Petersham Building after meeting Gary Hudson?’

  ‘Can’t remember. It was a while back. Probably checking on progress.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Mark wanted to find out how the schedule was going. He had some bids lined up for new work.’

  ‘Why couldn’t he check himself? He went to the project meetings, didn’t he?’

  ‘Most of the time.’

  ‘So, why send you?’

  He eyed Kay with undisguised malice. ‘He’s a busy man, detective. What’s the point in employing someone and then do the job yourself?’

  ‘Who did you meet with?’

  ‘A bunch of people – different contractors.’

  ‘And what did you discuss?’

  He blinked. ‘I can’t remember exactly. How things were going, if the project was going to finish on time – things like that.’

  ‘Did you meet with John Brancourt while you were there?’

  ‘Never saw the bloke.’

  ‘What about his son, Damien?’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘Damien Brancourt. Did you meet with him at the Petersham Building that day?’

  ‘No.’

  Kay held up a photograph taken at the crime scene by one of Harriet’s team, and Adrian’s solicitor recoiled, his eyes wide.

  ‘Why did you kill Damien Brancourt?’

  The solicitor recovered from his shock and slapped his hand on his notebook. ‘Detective, that’s—’

  ‘I didn’t kill Damien Brancourt,’ said Adrian. ‘I never saw him at the Petersham Building. The only time I ever saw him was when he tagged along with his father to hand over the keys to the place when we won the contract.’

  ‘Won the contract? You threatened John Brancourt and removed equipment from his premises to blackmail him until he awarded the work to Sutton Site Security.’

  ‘I don’t know anything about that. You’d have to speak to Mark.’

  ‘How did you steal John Brancourt’s equipment from his yard?’

  ‘I didn’t.’

  Kay turned to Carys. ‘Show Mr Sutton the photographs we’ve obtained.’

  The detective constable reached into a folder and pulled out a set of CCTV images Gavin had handed to her moments before they’d walked into the interview room. ‘Cash withdrawals were made from various ATMs around the town the morning before each plant machine was stolen,’ she said. ‘And we have loading equipment on camera here at two forty-five in the morning on the road outside Brancourt’s yard.’

  ‘John Brancourt may be too frightened to report you and your cousin,’ said Kay. ‘But it doesn’t stop us from investigating the theft.’

  ‘Wasn’t me.’

  ‘But you know who was responsible, don’t you?’

  Thirty-Five

  Kay eyed Mark Sutton as Barnes read out the formal interview caution, noting that the man’s heavyset eyes appeared bored rather than concerned at the turn of events.

  Beside him, a slim well-dressed solicitor pressed pen to paper, his lips pursed as he jotted notes to himself.

  Kay’s gaze dropped to the business card the man had handed to her upon entering the interview room.

  Andrew Faircroft.

  Not a local, that was for sure. The telephone number embossed under his name displayed an outer London area.

  She wondered fleetingly what a Kent security contractor was doing with a London-based legal representative, then refocused on the interview at hand and flipped open the folder before her as Barnes finished speaking.

  ‘How many staff do you have working for you, Mr Sutton?’ she said.

  ‘I can’t remember off the top of my head,’ said Sutton, a sly smirk at the corner of his mouth.

  ‘Try.’

  He blew out his cheeks. ‘Maybe thirty, forty people.’

  ‘Full time? Part time?’

  ‘A dozen full time. They act as managers for me on our different site contracts. The rest come and go as we need them.’

  ‘And how do you pay those staff?’

  He scowled. ‘My business is all above board. I pay my taxes.’

  Now it was Kay’s turn to smile. ‘You pay tax for the staff you actually put through your books, Mr Sutton. However, we’ve had someone look into your financial habits and it appears that your business is doing better than your taxable income provides for.’ She snatched up two pages from the folder, placing them in front of Sutton and Faircroft. She tapped the left-hand one with her fingernail. ‘These are surveillance reports from the past two Thursday mornings. Pay day for your casual staff, isn’t it? Cash, too? I must say, there are a lot of men who turn up at your offices between the hours of seven and ten o’clock who leave with stuffed envelopes in their hands. How do you explain that?’

  Sutton leaned his forearms on the table. ‘Now, see here. Those are legitimate payments to casual workers.’

  ‘They may well be,’ said Kay, gesturing to the numbers displayed on the pages before him. ‘But they don’t appear in your tax returns, do they?’

  She didn’t wait for him to answer. Instead, she pulled another document from the folder and began leafing through it. ‘Our forensic investigator provided this report to me this morning,’ she said. ‘It makes for an extremely interesting read. Even Barnes here was impressed, weren’t you?’

  ‘It’s going to be a bestseller, I reckon,’ said the detective sergeant. He took the report from Kay and held up the last page to Sutton. ‘Money laundering, Mark. Not very clever in this day and age.’

  The solicitor’s eyebrows shot upwards. ‘My client—’

  ‘Has a lot of explaining to do,’ said Kay. ‘Now, why don’t we start with the death of Damien Brancourt?’

  ‘I had nothing to do with that!’ Sutton pushed back his chair and pointed at Kay. ‘You can’t pin that on me.’

  ‘Sit down,’ Barnes barked.

  The door swung open and two uniformed officers burst in, their faces alarmed.

  Sutton sank into his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Happy now?’

  Kay nodded to the two officers. ‘Thank you. We’ll be fine.’

  ‘If it’s all the same to you, guv, I’ll be outside the door in case you need me,’ said the older constable.

  Barnes waited until the door had closed, then turned back to Sutton. ‘A lot of the men employed by you have criminal record
s, including your cousin Adrian. How would your clients feel knowing that you’ve forged security checks and passed these men off as legitimate security personnel?’

  Sutton’s jaw clenched.

  ‘Did you use those men to steal the plant equipment from John Brancourt?’ said Kay. ‘We know you paid cash for the truck to take it away. Did you deliberately target John Brancourt because you wanted to get closer to Damien?’

  ‘No. That’s not what happened.’

  ‘Then perhaps you could enlighten us?’

  ‘Look,’ said Sutton, and placed his arms on the table. ‘I don’t do the recruiting, all right? I leave that to Adrian. He knows people – the sort of people that can do the sort of work we need them to do. I don’t ask questions.’

  ‘You should,’ said Kay. ‘As their employer, the responsibility lies with you. And Adrian tells us you have the final say about everything to do with the business. You’re the owner, after all. When did you instruct your men to steal the equipment?’

  ‘It wasn’t stolen. It was borrowed.’

  Barnes laughed, and Kay fought to keep a straight face.

  ‘Borrowed?’ she said. ‘Don’t give me that. You stole it to coerce John Brancourt into awarding you the contract. You kept stealing equipment until he acquiesced.’

  ‘No, he’s mistaken. He must’ve forgotten. He told me we could borrow it for a few days, that’s all.’

  ‘Where’s the loan agreement, then?’

  Sutton’s top lip curled. ‘There was no paperwork. It was a gentlemen’s agreement. Handshake. Probably slipped his mind with everything else he’s had on this year.’

 

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