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Day Five
He left instructions and an address scrawled across a scrap of paper on Gandalph’s desk then made it back to his office just as Lizzie bowled in, early, to share his coffee along with the croissants she’d brought.
A short while later, Thurstan wiped his hands and mouth on the tissue she gave him and took a sip from his mug. “Mmmm, that was very nice. What have you managed to find out?”
She beamed, placing the remains of her croissant on the ripped open paper bag. “To put it bluntly, Ed Warren has never had the money to fund these company purchases. They’ve tried to make it look as if he had but it doesn’t stand up to real hard scrutiny. He’s a bit of a chancer and a gambler. Likes to give the impression of wealth he doesn’t have. Having said that, lately, he’s been paying off debts and spending money he just doesn’t legitimately appear to be able to earn. Also, looking at his past occupations he didn’t have any expertise in the haulage business. I don’t think he’s the power behind Wanderer, Pilgrim and Hobo. We’re still trying to track who is but it’s complicated.” She popped the last of the croissant in her mouth, smiled and picked up his mug.
Midday found him bimbling across the office, heading for the lifts. Gandalph waylaid him, looking around to make sure they were out of earshot.
“That address you left me earlier, Boss? The Gambier Terrace one you said you got from Nickson, where he had a meeting a good while back. I gave it to Taffy to check out. I didn’t tell him too much, just some gumpf about it being a collateral enquiry to the Donny Mostyn job. I told him it might not be correct but you wanted it checking anyway. I hope you don’t mind but it gave me extra time to work on other things.”
Thurstan nodded and patted his arm. “No, that’s fine.” He began to walk away.
“Oh and that job from yesterday, the one about the tyre firm asking after Warren. They don’t exist. It’s fake and I’ll tell you why I’m certain.” He explained the significance of the details given. “Looks like someone else is trying to find him.”
Thurstan contemplated the information. It could be the people Warren ‘worked’ for. Maybe he’d had his hand in the till, these people often did, but the nature of the ‘clue’ was more in keeping with Nickson which meant he still hadn’t found him, not at that point anyway. He nodded. “Thanks, Stephen.”
He was sitting in the canteen picking through the congealed remnants of a bean casserole when Taffy caught up with him.
“Hello, Boss. That enquiry you got Gandalph to give me. I’ve been to the address. Lovely place, nice family. They’ve got a grand piano in one of the rooms, all by itself. Quite impressive, it was. She even let me have go on it.”
“I didn’t know you could play the piano, Taffy?”
“I can’t, Boss, but she was very kind and took a snap of me pretending like. Anyway, they’ve never heard of Donny Mostyn or any of his associates I mentioned. The lady of the house works in local media, TV programmes and films, can’t remember the company but it’ll come to me.” Thurstan waved him to take a seat.
“I’ve got her name and the family. Her husband’s a Barrister. Not heard of him myself. Well, we got to talking and she said they used to let the place out on Airbnb a couple of years ago. I asked her if they were still doing it and she said they weren’t because they didn’t get a great response. Just one person. Rented it a few times back in 2014 and once in late 2013. Four times in all I think she said. Three days at a time. Minimum let, you see.”
Thurstan glimpsed up from pushing food around his plate. “What was the person’s name?”
“I was right on top of that and it took a bit of doing because she had to open up her computer and go through her emails. Waste of time, it was, because they had one of those made up email names. Now, I know we could do something there but it takes too long so I asked if she could check her bank statements online.”
“And?”
“She’ll call me later, Boss.” Taffy grinned whilst taking out his phone. “Just have a look at this one of me at the piano.”
Back in the office, he checked his emails and signed off some Niche taskings.
Gandalph politely tapped the door. “My mate just gave me this, Boss.” He slipped several sheets of A4 onto the desk.
His DCI sat, quietly, thumbing through them. Eventually, he looked up.
“Three unauthorised searches and all of them found and disciplined. So, it all comes down to the Chief Con. Why was he searching files well before the subjects had been shot by Nickson?” His DC shrugged.
Thurstan rested his head in his hands then sat staring out of the window. Finally, “You know what this means, don’t you? I’m going to have to question the Chief and that’s not something I’m looking forward to.” Gandalph tried to look suitably sympathetic.
It took two more coffees before he’d plucked up the courage to phone the Chief’s office.
“Chief Constable’s suite, how may I help you?”
“Detective Chief Inspector Baddeley here, from MIT. Who’s that?”
“It’s Becky.”
He explained he needed to speak to the Chief and accepted that he might not be able to get an appointment for a few days.
“Oh, he’s free now for an hour, if you want to come over?”
He didn’t but he knew he had to. “That’ll be fine,” he replied, limply.