by Adam Croft
15
Less than an hour later, Caroline was back in work mode, having buried her health worries in the back of her mind. She was in Uppingham, at the premises of Allure Design, having picked Dexter up on the way. She’d been surprised to find Monique — despite her release from custody — nowhere to be seen.
Caroline didn’t like to stereotype, but she was fairly certain she could’ve picked Tom Mackintosh out of a line-up of potential IT managers. His grey t-shirt was at least two sizes too big for his lanky frame, and the frayed bottoms of his jeans declared they’d seen better days. As she got closer, she noticed he smelled of stale smoke, although somewhat sweeter. She wondered if it wasn’t purely tobacco he’d been smoking, or if her sense of smell was still recovering from heavy chemotherapy. Right now, though, she had more important matters on her mind.
‘Good to meet you, Tom,’ Caroline said, shaking his hand. ‘How was the break?’
‘Lovely, thanks. Always good to get away.’
‘Anywhere nice?’
‘Up to Scotland. Love it there.’
Caroline winced. ‘Crikey, it must’ve been cold up there. It’s bad enough down here.’
‘Exactly,’ Tom replied, with a know-all smile. ‘I’m a big fan of all-weather camping. I love all the survivalist stuff. No better way to get away from it all than be in the middle of nowhere for a bit. The cold just gives it an extra edge.’
She couldn’t deny that sounded like heaven at times. ‘Not that we’re ever far from the middle of nowhere round here,’ she said.
‘Oh, definitely. In fact, if it’s something you’re keen on, there are some great local places I go to. Fineshade and Wakerley Woods are brilliant. Whack a tent in a bag, kit up and off you go. They’ve both got facilities if you want them, and if you know the right spots you can even get wi-fi.’
‘I couldn’t think of anything worse. Especially in this weather.’
‘Ah, you’re missing out. Get yourself down to Fineshade and hire a Danish shelter. Basically a tiny three-sided log cabin with a fire pit outside. Beautiful.’
‘I’ll think about it,’ Caroline said, tickled by his enthusiasm. ‘Still, sorry to burst your bubble.’
‘Indeed. This isn’t really what I expected to come back to, I’ll be honest, but I’ll do what I can to help.’
Caroline smiled. ‘Looks like they’re a bit stuck without you. What happens if something goes down while you’re away?’
‘To be honest, there isn’t really anything much that can go down. If there are network problems it’s usually down to our internet service provider, if the website collapses it’s down to the designer or the host, and if someone forgets their computer password for the sixth time that month — well, that’s their problem, isn’t it?’ Tom replied, smiling.
‘Sounds familiar,’ Dexter said, looking at Caroline.
‘So, how can I help?’ Tom asked.
Caroline took a deep breath and considered her wording carefully. ‘Well, at the moment it’s more a case of gathering evidence. We don’t have our eyes on anything specific, but there’s always the slightest possibility there might be some digital evidence somewhere. We’ve got a specialist en route who’ll explain things and let you know what we need. Essentially, it’ll involve making copies of systems and communications. It’s all beyond me, so I’ll leave him to explain. He should be here any minute.’
Tom shrugged. ‘Alright. Do you guys want a drink or something in the meantime? Tea? Coffee?’
Caroline smiled. ‘Coffee would be lovely, thanks.’
‘Sounds good,’ Dexter replied.
They followed Tom through the office towards the brightly decorated break room, where Caroline eyed up the egg chairs once again. ‘Y’know,’ she said, ‘these things do start to grow on you, don’t they?’
‘Not really my style,’ Tom replied, leaving Caroline wondering what his style actually was. The closest she could come to defining it was “greasy”.
‘So, what kind of guy was Martin? Good boss?’ Dexter asked.
‘Yeah, he’s alright. Was. Crikey, feels weird saying that.’
‘I imagine it’ll take some getting used to. What were his relationships like, do you know?’
‘Relationships?’
‘Yeah. Did he get on with everyone?’
‘Oh. Right. Yeah, sorry, I thought you meant... Sorry.’
‘Meant what, Tom?’
‘I don’t want to drop anyone in it. It’s just... there were rumours. About him and Monique,’ he said, almost silently mouthing her name although she was nowhere to be seen.
‘What about them?’ Caroline asked innocently.
‘Probably just rumours. But office gossip was that they were, well, you know.’
‘I think I do, yes.’
‘I dunno what’ll happen to our jobs now. Someone said his wife’s a director too, but I don’t think I’d recognise her if she walked in here. Can’t see she’ll be too bothered about keeping the place going.’
‘You never know. She might bring in a manager or bump someone up to looking after the place. Silent director sort of thing.’
Tom laughed. ‘Chance’ll be a fine thing. Never much silence round here, I can tell you that.’
‘One of your colleagues mentioned that Martin had a bit of a row with someone last week,’ Caroline said. ‘Did you hear anything?’
‘Ah. Yeah, I think I know the one you mean. It was the day before I went up to Scotland. Thursday, it would’ve been. I didn’t really hear what was said, but it didn’t sound good.’
‘Do you know what it was about?’
Tom shook his head. ‘No, sorry. To be honest, stuff like that happens at work sometimes. There won’t be anything in it.’
‘Who was he arguing with?’
‘Uh, Amie, I think.’
‘How well do you know Amie? What’s she like?’
Tom took a deep breath, then let out a huge sigh. ‘I dunno. I mean, she’s fine. She’s nice. She seems to get on well with everyone. Keeps herself to herself, mostly. She can be difficult to get to know, but not necessarily in a bad way, if you know what I mean. Private. But cheerful, friendly, bubbly.’
‘This is Amie Tanner?’ Caroline asked, unable to reconcile Tom’s description with the woman they’d already met.
‘Yeah. Why?’
‘Just trying to build a picture,’ Caroline replied, smiling. ‘How were things left after the argument?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Well, did Amie stick around or did she go home? Were there any comments or remarks made? Did they kiss and make up?’
‘Nothing specific that I can remember. They seemed fine, I think. No permanent falling out, if that’s what you mean. I don’t imagine Martin would stay angry at her for long.’
Caroline cocked her head slightly as she registered this comment. ‘How do you mean?’
Tom looked as though he’d just realised he’d said too much. ‘Oh, nothing,’ he said.
‘No, go on.’
‘Honestly, it’s nothing. It’s probably not even relevant.’
Dexter interjected. ‘With the greatest of respect, that’s for us to decide.’
Tom looked at him, then back at Caroline. ‘It’s just… Well, it’s difficult to explain really. It’s Martin. Between you and me, I think he’d been trying it on with Amie as well. It’s the sort of guy he is. Was.’
‘A relationship, you mean?’
‘Oh no. Not Amie. I doubt it, anyway. She’s always been pretty smitten with her other half. Not that he’s the nicest guy in the world, from what I’ve seen. But Martin had a bit of a reputation. It was a sort of unspoken thing. Especially with… you know.’
‘His wife?’
‘Well, yeah. No-one really wanted to rock the boat, I guess. But like I say, they got along fine. Everyone has arguments every now and again, but it all seemed to be sorted out pretty quickly. And I doubt it had anything to do with what happened.’
&nbs
p; Caroline smiled at him. She had to admire his optimism, but she wasn’t entirely sure she agreed.
16
Meanwhile, Sara and Aidan had taken a drive over to Seaton to speak with Sandra Forbes. They’d been at the George & Dragon the previous day and had seen how uncomfortable the owner had looked when they’d asked about Martin, and they were keen to try and gauge how much Sandra really knew about her husband’s extra-curricular activities.
‘She must have known,’ Aidan said, thinking to himself as Sara drove. ‘If it was going on for that long, there’s no way she was oblivious to it all. Especially if they were right at the pub about her reaction when she came looking for him.’
‘We’ll soon see. It’s the timing that worries me,’ Sara replied. ‘Just enough time from discovering the truth to have sat and stewed on it for a bit before planning her way out.’
‘You think she did him in because he was having an affair?’
‘Honestly? I’ve no idea. But we probably shouldn’t go into this with too many preconceptions or theories. If we do that, we’ll only see what we want to see.’
‘Fair point,’ Aidan replied, returning to his own thoughts.
A few minutes later, they arrived at Sandra Forbes’s house in Seaton, and were soon seated in her living room.
‘We’re really sorry to intrude on you again at such a difficult time,’ Sara said, ‘but we’re at the stage now where we’re looking to widen the investigation. That means we need to find out more about Martin’s friends and contacts, his work, all that sort of thing.’
Sandra gave a non-committal shrug. She looked as though she’d barely slept, which was hardly surprising. ‘I’ll help if I can, but he tended to keep most things to himself.’
Was there a hint of something in those words? Sara thought perhaps there had been, but she silently reminded herself not to look for things that might not be there.
‘Okay, well let’s start with work. I understand you’re a director of Allure. Were you involved in the company much before Martin died?’
Sandra shook her head. ‘No, not really. I mean, I was listed as a director, but that was only to split the income and halve the tax bill. Totally legal and above board.’
‘Don’t worry, I’m not the tax inspector,’ Sara said, smiling. ‘Did Martin talk much about the people he worked with?’
‘Not really. Sometimes, perhaps. But he was pretty good at keeping his work and home life separate. As far as he was concerned, he closed the door and went home at the end of the day and that was that. He spent a huge amount of time working, but didn’t talk about it when he was at home.’
‘Very sensible,’ Sara replied. ‘I wish I could compartmentalise like that. What about colleagues? Did he ever see them socially outside work?’
‘Oh no, never. I mean, there were work Christmas events and things like that, but he never made friends with anyone that worked for him. That can be a very slippery slope.’
Sandra’s response was a little too forceful for Sara’s liking. In any case, she wasn’t so sure she agreed.
‘Makes sense. Did you ever meet any of his colleagues and employees?’
Sandra shook her head. ‘Not really. One or two.’
‘How about Amie Tanner?’
Sandra shrugged. ‘I think I know the one you mean, but I’m not sure if we’ve met.’
‘There’s a woman there called Monique, do you know her?’
There was a flash of something in Sandra’s eyes. ‘No. Not really. Name rings a vague bell.’
‘She’s the one who thinks she’s Cicero.’
‘Like I say, I never really paid much attention. Why are you only asking about the women?’
‘I’m just trying to get some background. Look, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask some difficult questions. I know they might be uncomfortable, and the answer might very well be “no”. That’s fine. We just need to cover all angles and make sure we’ve got all the information we need.’
Sandra sighed and spoke quietly. ‘If you’re going to ask me whether Martin had a relationship with any of his female staff, I can tell you now I don’t know. I don’t think so. You’d think a woman would know if something was going on, wouldn’t you? But no. I think I can at least do him the good grace of assuming he was always the kind, honourable and good man I knew.’
Sara nodded slowly. ‘Okay. That’s all fine and completely understandable. We just want to help get justice for Martin. And for you. I want to ask about Martin’s leisure time, if I can please. I gather he was a keen runner. Did he have any other hobbies at all?’
‘No. He didn’t really have time for much else. He worked all day, went for a run in the evenings then either crashed out in front of the telly or stayed out for a couple of drinks.’
‘Ah yes. At the George & Dragon, isn’t it? The one at the other end of the village.’
‘Yes.’
‘Nice place. Aidan and I popped in yesterday lunchtime, actually. Do you know the owners well?’
Sandra shrugged again. ‘Not really. We’ve been in a few times for meals and things, but Martin tended to prefer to keep himself to himself.’
Or to Monique Dupont, Sara thought.
‘I presume he must’ve been pretty familiar to them, though? If he often went in after his runs, I mean. You’d imagine they’d recognise him as a local.’
‘I don’t know. I’d like to think so. Look, I don’t mean to sound rude but do you know how much longer this is likely to take? I’m really not sure I can be of much use to you, and my sister and her husband are due to arrive from Cornwall shortly.’
‘That’s okay. We won’t keep you too much longer,’ Sara said, smiling. ‘The reason I mention it is because we asked in the pub about Martin. Just trying to build up a picture of him as a person. They didn’t seem to really know him at all.’
Sandra swallowed. ‘Like I say, Martin liked to keep himself to himself. I doubt he was on first-name terms with the staff.’
‘No, but they’re always aware of who they’ve got in. They said they thought he’d been in once or twice before, but he wasn’t a regular by any means. They couldn’t even pinpoint when he’d last been in, but they reckoned it’d been weeks.’
Sandra started to blink rapidly. ‘Maybe the staff were new. Or perhaps you showed them an old photo. I don’t know.’
‘It was this photo,’ Sara said, showing it to her. ‘A fairly recent one of the two of you. Christmas or New Year, it looks like.’
‘New Year’s Eve.’
‘Pretty good likeness of Martin?’
Sandra flicked her eyes towards the photo, then off towards the fireplace. ‘Not bad.’
‘The staff at the pub were certain we were talking about the same person. They knew who he was, but were adamant they hadn’t seen him in a while. They recognised you, though.’
There was a visible reaction from Sandra. There’d been a smaller one when she’d looked at the photo and must have known this was coming, but now it was clear to both Sara and Aidan.
‘When did you last visit the George & Dragon, Sandra?’ Sara asked.
‘I… I don’t remember. Like I said, I don’t exactly go there often.’
‘No, they mentioned that. They said you weren’t a regular either, but they distinctly recalled that you’d been in recently. Does that ring any bells?’
Sandra looked up towards the ceiling, seemingly having accepted they already knew the truth. Finally, she lowered her head, sighed and spoke.
‘I went in there a couple of weeks back. I’d expected him home and he didn’t arrive, so I went down there because that’s where I thought he’d be.’
‘But he wasn’t.’
‘No.’
‘Do you know where he was?’
Sandra swallowed. ‘No.’
‘Did you ask him?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I didn’t want to know, alright?’ Sandra replied, her voice louder
and more forceful. ‘Of course I knew he wasn’t going to the bloody pub all the time. I’m not stupid. I knew there was something else going on. I didn’t want details. I didn’t want names. I just wanted to know I wasn’t going absolutely bloody mad.’
‘I can understand that,’ Sara said, trying to calm the situation. ‘Did you have any theories? Suspicions as to where he might have been?’
‘With a woman, obviously. You don’t need me to spell that out for you.’
‘Which woman?’
‘I don’t know. I really don’t know.’
‘Okay. A friend? Someone he’d met in the pub? Someone from work?’
‘I don’t know. I said I don’t know. I don’t want to know, either. Even good people don’t always make the right decisions. It doesn’t make them bad people. Martin was a good person. And if you don’t mind, that’s the way I’d like to remember him.’
17
Not long after Tom’s revelation about Martin and Amie, the digital forensics specialist arrived at Allure’s offices to back up and copy their computer systems. Knowing it was likely to take some time, and with bigger fish to fry, Caroline and Dexter made the decision to head over to Amie Tanner’s house for a surprise visit.
They hadn’t planned to spend the day ping-ponging across Rutland, but they found themselves once again on the Uppingham to Oakham road, bypassing the county town before veering off towards Market Overton, where Amie Tanner lived with her family.
‘It was a bit weird, that,’ Dexter said, not long after they’d set off. ‘I mean, the way he described Amie, saying how bubbly and friendly she was.’
‘Maybe we caught her on a bad day yesterday. Maybe she doesn’t like the police. Maybe it’s her way of dealing with grief. Maybe that’s Tom’s idea of bubbly. Who knows?’
‘True. But I know you clocked it too. I could see the look on your face.’