“Good idea. I’m sure Plunkett would sign it off. He thinks the world of you, you know.”
“Go away out of that. He might if I was a man. Maybe I should change over – it’s all the rage these days,” she said, and the two girls burst out laughing.
* * *
“I really must protest, officer. You have my client here on the flimsiest of evidence, and he has spent quite an unpleasant night in the cells. I demand that you either charge him immediately, or release him. Do you understand?” O’Donnell said.
“Why don’t you sit down and keep quiet until you have something sensible to say, Mr O’Donnell,” Lyons said, and she took her seat alongside Fahy, facing McCutcheon.
“Now, Mr McCutcheon. We’ll leave the adultery thing for the moment. Just now I’m more interested in how we found several hundred thousand euros worth of contraband gold in your storeroom. Would you care to tell us about it?” Lyons said.
“My client knows nothing about any gold, Inspector. He’s never seen anything like that before. It’s not his,” O’Donnell said.
“I see. Well, not many people leave that kind of fortune just lying around for anyone to find. Would you care to speculate what it was doing in a consignment of tea towels addressed to your shop?”
“It must be something to do with the Lithuanian girls. They’re all crooked – I don’t know why I employ them,” McCutcheon replied.
“You employ them because they are cheap and compliant, Mr McCutcheon, and occasionally you can get one or more of them into bed,” Lyons said.
“Really, I must protest, Inspector. You can’t speak to my client like that! Withdraw that remark.”
Lyons ignored the man, and Sally Fahy asked the next question.
“Can you tell us, Mr McCutcheon, why those particular boxes were separated out from the rest of your stock and taken to your secret premises down by the harbour?”
“It’s not a secret. There was no room in the main store. I use that place as an overflow facility.”
“And a love nest, it seems. But when we checked your main store behind the shop, there was plenty of room for more stuff. So I’m afraid that doesn’t make any sense,” Fahy said.
“The stock moves very quickly. That’s the whole idea behind Eurosaver. Fast turnover and small margins.”
“My client has answered your question, Sergeant, now can we move on, please?” O’Donnell said.
Just then, Lyons’ phone went off. She suspended the interview to take the call, seeing it was from Sinéad Loughran.
“Hi, Sinéad, what’s up?”
Loughran told Lyons what they had discovered about the gold that had been found in McCutcheon’s store.
When she had noted it all down, she went back in to the interview room.
“Mr McCutcheon, the gold bars that we discovered in your secret hiding place, camouflaged amongst a consignment of tea towels, have a smelter’s mark on them,” Lyons said.
“So?” McCutcheon said.
“The markings on the gold that we found on your premises are identical to the markings we found on a similar bar of gold that a woman by the name of Maria Geller was clutching in her dead hand after she was brutally murdered in one of your properties. Would you care to explain that to us?”
McCutcheon went bright red, and looked to O’Donnell for help, but O’Donnell just stared back po-faced and said nothing.
“Eh… eh, no c-comment,” McCutcheon said. “But could I have a drink of water?”
“Certainly,” Lyons said, and Fahy got up and left the room to fetch them all a drink.
“Mr McCutcheon, I would advise you to think very carefully about what you tell us next. It’s clear that you are now implicated in the vicious killing of a foreign citizen, and that this gold that you pretend to know nothing about is somehow connected to that crime. If you don’t have a very credible explanation, I’ll be inclined to charge you with this woman’s murder, along with all the other charges we have lined up for you. Do you understand?” Lyons said.
“Perhaps I could have a few minutes to confer with my client, Inspector?” O’Donnell interrupted.
“I’ll give you ten minutes, and if he hasn’t decided to tell us the truth when I come back in, I’ll be charging him with at least one count of murder. Is that clear?” Lyons said. No one replied.
When Lyons left the room, she called John O’Connor.
“Anything, John?”
“Yes, loads. The stupid thing was barely secure at all. There are lots of emails from someone in Lithuania giving addresses and quantities of gold. And I’ve found some from China as well that appear to be advising details of shipments,” O’Connor said.
“And these are definitely addressed to McCutcheon?”
“Yes, they are, and he’s replied to some of them too, and signed the reply. There’s banking details on here as well; I haven’t had time to investigate that yet, but it looks like there’s a lot of money sloshing around.”
“Good work, John. Keep at it. I think we’ve nearly cracked him,” she said.
Chapter Twenty-one
When Lyons returned to the interview room with Sally Fahy, McCutcheon’s demeanour had changed completely. His wiry little solicitor was the first to speak.
“My client is prepared to co-operate with you fully with regard to the gold, but he wishes to make it clear that he had nothing whatever to do with any murder, or any other violent crime. We trust due consideration will be given to the fulness of his co-operation in the event that you bring lesser charges.”
“Let’s see what he has to say first, shall we?” Lyons said.
“It all started two years ago when I was in China on a buying trip. I go every year to see the latest products they have that are suitable for Eurosaver, and to meet my suppliers. I was at a dinner with some of them one night in a swanky hotel, and one of the men broached the subject of gold with me. He told me that they were selling quite a bit of the stuff by mail order over the internet in Ireland, and asked if I would be prepared to become a local distributor. He said it made things easier and quicker if the gold could be posted to the customers locally. I said I might be, and he went on to tell me how it worked. They would ship the gold over in with some of the other stuff I was buying, and mark the cartons that had gold in them with a specific Chinese symbol. Then, they would email me the names and addresses of their customers, and all I had to do was to post the correct quantity of gold to the customer from Westport, and I would receive a handsome commission. Money for nothing, as they say,” McCutcheon said.
“But you must have realised that it was dodgy. I mean, was the gold declared to customs?” Fahy said.
“No, of course not. The goods were described as household linens.”
“So, you admit to defrauding the State of import duties and VAT as far as these illicit imports are concerned?” Fahy said.
“Yes, yes, I suppose so.”
“And were you aware that the gangs that were providing you with the names and addresses of their customers were also arranging to have the gold stolen back from the same customers and sent back to the source?” Fahy said.
“No, of course not. I knew nothing about that,” McCutcheon said.
“What did you know of Maria Geller?” Lyons took over the questioning.
“Very little. She booked 22 Owen Glen from me on Airbnb once, or maybe twice, that’s all.”
“Have you ever heard the names Matis Vitkus or Dieter Essig?”
“No, never. Who are they?”
“Never mind. Tell me, Mr McCutcheon, how much did you make from this little enterprise of yours?” Lyons said.
“Just a few grand. Pocket money really.”
“We’ll see about that. We’re going through your various bank accounts right now, so we’ll have a good idea how much pocket money you have collected very shortly. Right, I’m suspending this interview for now. We’ll reconvene at five o’clock, and we will be charging you Mr McCutcheon, you can be sure of that
.”
* * *
While Fahy and Lyons had been interviewing McCutcheon in Westport, Flynn had been busy with Essig, accompanied by Janssen. They informed Essig that as there were a number of Europol warrants out for him, there was a possibility that he could be deported, but that in order for this to happen, he would have to fully co-operate with the Gardaí so that they could clear up the local events.
Essig consulted his solicitor, and agreed that this was probably the best course of action for him, especially if he could convince Janssen to reduce the current charges to manslaughter which carried a maximum sentence of fifteen years.
Janssen said that he could possibly agree to that, if Essig was co-operative, and could show that he did not set out to kill the woman.
“Maria Geller was a courier for an organisation that recycles gold, stealing it back from the customers who they sold it to. Geller travels around Europe collecting the gold, and brings it back to Eastern Europe where it is melted down and re-sold. But we had information that she was skimming off some for her own benefit. The organisation can’t allow that for obvious reasons, so they sent me to see her. At first, we got on well. Very well. But then when I talked about her habit, she became very angry and threatened me with the knife. I managed to get it from her, and in the struggle she got stabbed. So I took her gold, and fled, and took her phone, her keys and computer too. Later, I came back to see if I could find the gold she had in the house, but I had no luck,” Essig said.
“There’s one thing that’s been bothering me from the start. Why did you throw Geller’s keys out at the side of the road?” Flynn said.
“I realised that I had probably left my fingerprints on the key thing, and maybe small traces of Geller’s blood too, so I got rid of them. I didn’t think they would be found.”
“And what about the cord around her neck?” Flynn said.
“Once I realised that she was dead, I did that. It is a sign to others in the organisation not to get greedy. They know it.”
“OK. So what about Matis Vitkus – was his death an accident too?” Flynn said.
“It was also self-defence. We got into a fight about how he had come to sell the phone and computer with advertisements. It was crazy. Of course the police would be watching. He has a bad temper. He had a knife under his pillow, and he brought it out. I thought he was going to stab me, so I had to shoot. I’m really sorry – he did not need to die like that. He had been a good friend up till then.”
* * *
By late in the afternoon, John O’Connor had harvested a mass of information from McCutcheon’s computer. His efforts revealed that McCutcheon had almost half a million euro stashed in various accounts, most of them overseas. It was clear that the scam had been going on for some time, and that quite a large amount of gold had passed through McCutcheon’s hands.
Lyons called Hays to discuss with him how they should proceed.
“Does any of this link McCutcheon to the murders?” Hays said.
“No. All we can prove with all this stuff is that he was in receipt of gold from China without going through Customs and without paying import taxes and VAT. Of course he also received orders for the product that were relayed from the website, packaged it up and posted it out, which may involve him in further VAT fraud, but that’s it,” Lyons said.
“Do you not think it’s a bit of a coincidence that Maria Geller was staying in one of his units, and she just happened to be heavily involved herself?” Hays said.
“I guess. But from an evidence point of view, that’s all it is – just a coincidence. There’s nothing that ties the two of them together apart from the holiday bookings.”
“OK, but you know what we both think about coincidences.”
“Yes, I agree, but without something more concrete that’s all we’ve got on him. Anyway, he’s going to get sufficient punishment one way or the other,” Lyons said.
“How do you figure that out?”
“We told his wife that he was found in bed with the Dutch girl. She had no idea. I got the impression she wouldn’t be hanging around. And their house isn’t even in his name – presumably another tax dodge. So he could be sleeping on the streets in a few weeks.”
“Right, well, you better charge him with the fraud stuff and bail him. And keep your head down for a while then – as I said, he reckons he’s connected. Are you sure there’s nothing else we can get him on?” Hays said.
“I really don’t think so. I don’t want him to walk either, but without hard evidence…”
“OK. Well, at least we have Essig. I need to speak to Plunkett about him. I’m not sure what he wants done with him.”
“OK. Let me know. Janssen wants to take him back to Utrecht.”
“Right, thanks. Chat later,” Hays said.
* * *
Hays went to see Plunkett, and they agreed that the best outcome would be for Janssen to take Essig back to the Netherlands.
“Have we managed to close down the whole operation, do you think, Mick?” Plunkett said.
“We will do. There’s enough information on McCutcheon’s computer to get right inside the entire thing. But I’m inclined to hand that over to the Fraud Squad. It would take too much of our time and resources to try and unravel it all,” Hays said.
“Sounds about right.”
“Do you think McCutcheon will cause trouble for us?” Hays said.
“I doubt it. Even our politicians won’t want to be anywhere near something as tricky as this. They’ll dump him once they hear what he’s been up to.”
“Will you be able to plant the word in the right ears, sir?” Hays said.
“Now you know better than to ask me that, Mick. But, yes, of course I will.”
* * *
McCutcheon was charged with several crimes related to VAT; excise duties and income tax. He was then given bail, and told to report to Westport Garda station twice weekly, and to surrender his passport. He left the station in the company of his solicitor feeling very sorry for himself.
Flynn had made arrangements with the Customs and Excise people and the Revenue Commissioners to move in on Eurosaver and seize all the stock. The shop would be closed down: it looked as if McCutcheon had been undervaluing the cost of the merchandise he was importing from China for the purpose of reducing his tax liability. He could owe literally millions in taxes; duties and penalties, and the authorities were not going to risk the assets being removed.
Chapter Twenty-two
Janssen and Flynn had some further interviews with Dieter Essig. He gave up some of the information relating to the operation he was involved in to Janssen, and he in turn passed this on to his colleagues in Utrecht. The Dutch police reckoned they had enough information to round up at least some of the gang, and disrupt their operations considerably.
Lyons met Janssen in the open plan where he was busy emailing details to the Netherlands.
“Hi. Have you got enough information from your man, do you think?” she said.
“I think he has given as much as he is prepared to tell us for now. It has been most useful. My colleagues in Utrecht have arrested ten people already and seized several computers and files.”
“Great. Any news on the Chinese connection?” Lyons said.
“That is much more difficult. The best we can hope is that we intercept some shipments before they change their methods, and the gang get fed up losing such a lot of money and turn their hand to some other business.”
“Can you not get co-operation from the Chinese authorities?” Lyons asked.
“It’s very difficult. It’s not that they don’t want to help, but the language is a challenge, the place is so huge, and much of the industry is carried out in tiny workshops in the back streets. And of course, no one wants to disrupt the legitimate business of China’s gold production. That would be very serious. Did you know they are becoming the biggest exporters of gold in the world?” Janssen said.
“No, I didn’t know that. Anyw
ay, when do you want to take Essig back?”
“I have been speaking to my boss. He wants me back tomorrow if we can arrange it.”
“Yes, of course. I’ll get someone to set it up. We might be able to provide a plain clothes detective from Dublin to accompany you to Amsterdam. Would that be helpful?” Lyons said.
“Oh, yes, that would be very helpful, thank you Maureen. Will you come to the airport?”
“No, I’m afraid not. I’m very busy here. But we will arrange a secure van for Essig and an armed escort right to the steps of the plane. Oh, and you may have to travel first class to stay away from the other passengers. It will be a scheduled flight.”
“I think I can handle that. Before I forget, my boss wants to send his thanks to you personally for all you have done, and I would like to thank you too for your hospitality. You have been very kind. If ever you are in Utrecht, I hope I can repay you,” Janssen said.
“Now, I might just take you up on that someday, Luuk.”
Epilogue
Dieter Essig and Luuk Janssen, accompanied by two detectives from Dublin, flew to Amsterdam in the first class section of the Aer Lingus scheduled flight. They were met by the Dutch Police at the Schiphol, who drove Essig back to Utrecht. He was charged with two counts of murder to go along with the several other charges that he had accumulated whilst he had been on the run. In preparation for his trial, a considerable amount of evidence was supplied by the Galway Gardaí, and Eamon Flynn and Sally Fahy travelled to the Netherlands to give evidence of his arrest at the trial. The jury found him guilty, and the judge, unusually for the Netherlands, sentenced him to a whole of life term in prison.
Batty McCutcheon was successfully pursued by the tax authorities. All of his assets were seized, and his business was closed down. The Eurosaver shop in Westport was boarded up, and remains so. It took the investigators over a year to disentangle McCutcheon’s affairs and take possession of the cash that he had hidden away in various overseas banks. His house and the property in Owen Glen were part of the seizure, so by the time he came to court he was surviving on benefits and living in a hostel for the homeless – a converted hotel near Sligo. Eleanor McCutcheon never returned to Westport. She purchased a house in the suburbs of Dublin for cash, where she is still living today.
Murder at the Holiday Home Page 15