The Inspector Walter Darriteau Murder Mysteries - Books 1-4 David Carter (autobiographies to read txt) 📖

Walter continued. ‘The company survived by introducing finance from an outside source.’

‘Like where?’ said Hector, unable to keep out of things for long.

‘We don’t know exactly where,’ said Karen, ‘but it would seem it came from someone within the Lodge.’

‘The Masons?’ clarified Hector, eyes suddenly wide and interested, and Walter wasn’t alone in wondering if Hector Browne was a member of the Lodge too.

Walter nodded, checked out Gibbons. He’d gone quiet, Karen watched him too, he may have been silent now but she would ask him about it one-to-one when the opportunity arose.

‘So what is the significance of that?’ persisted Hector.

‘We don’t know,’ said Karen, ‘but if there was any trouble repaying the loan, or if the lender and the lendee fell out for some reason, there might be something there.’

‘Also,’ said Walter, ‘bear in mind that if the bank wouldn’t lend, the eventual lender would demand hard terms, a big interest rate; maybe more than that, maybe additional difficult terms and conditions, and that could have placed even more stress and pressure on the business.’

‘What does Swaythling say about that?’ asked Hector.

‘We haven’t asked him yet.’

‘Why the hell not?’

Karen glanced exasperatedly at Walter. He jumped in.

‘Sometimes it’s best not to leap in like a blind bullock, especially when we are not sure of our facts. We are throwing ideas around here, nothing more at this stage. We are looking for constructive comments and anything that might push the inquiry forward,’ and Walter nodded at Hector, in an effort to see if the penny had dropped.

Hector scowled and looked away.

‘There is another thing,’ said Karen.

‘Like what?’ said Gibbons.

‘Relationships between Neil and his parents are very strained. Neil said that his parents had threatened to cut him out of the will. Gerry admitted the two men no longer got along, rarely spoke, in fact. Neil doesn’t live at home anymore, he’s dating a woman in her forties and the parents are aghast at that.’

‘Probably looking out for the grandkids,’ said Walter. ‘Neil’s an only child and this Veronica Camberwell woman ain’t gonna provide that.’

Hector again, he could not keep out of things for long, ‘So are you saying that the father might be targeting his only son because he hasn’t given him any grandkids? Killing him isn’t going to do it, is it?’

‘We are not saying anything, Hector; we are merely looking at all possibilities, examining the known facts. We know the relationship between the two of them is strained, we can’t ignore that fact, and until we know different, we keep an open mind. Gerry Swaythling is someone who could be behind this. No more, no less.’

‘Geez, a bit of a long shot.’

‘Sometimes long shots come up,’ muttered Gibbons, glaring across at Browne and mouthing, ‘knobhead!’

‘Rule nothing out,’ said Karen, echoing Walter’s words, ‘until we know different.’

WPC Jenny Thompson had been quiet to date, though she didn’t miss much. In a moment’s silence she asked, ‘This Veronica Camberwell woman, what do we know about her?’

‘I am coming to that,’ said Karen.

‘She’s hardly likely to order Neil’s killing if they are lovers, is she?’ said Hector, sighing loudly.

‘I’m not saying she is,’ said Jenny, fighting her corner. ‘But if we know something of her background it might lead us somewhere.’

‘Quite right, Jenny,’ said Walter, nodding at Karen who he knew had been working on Camberwell’s CV.

Karen took up the thread and said, ‘She lives in a big rambling house near Willaston village on the Wirral, a former Baronial manor; built yonks ago. She was left it by her husband when he died of a heart attack when they were on holiday in the States. He was twenty years older than her. There’s no mortgage on the property and she’s got pots of cash in the bank. Seems she likes to spend it by going out clubbing where she has met a succession of attractive young men. Neil is just the latest model.’

‘Lucky her,’ said Jenny, and the two women shared a knowing glance.

Karen continued, ‘Her husband invested in a sleepy Mersey based freight forwarding business in the seventies, bought out the partners, changed its name to Camberwell Freight, and proceeded to build it into one of the biggest businesses of its type operating out of Liverpool. They have offices in,’ and Karen glanced down at her notes, ‘Tower Buildings, that’s the one, fifth floor. A conservative value for the business is now put between four and five mill; and Veronica has just placed it on the market.’

‘For sale?’ clarified Walter.

‘Yep, with Jones and Sons in Hamilton Square, Birkenhead.’

‘How the other half live, eh?’ muttered Gibbons, thinking of his burgeoning overdraft, and the frequent hoity toity letters from his bank manageress.

‘You’re just miffed she didn’t make eyes at you,’ smirked Jenny, and they all laughed at that, and Gibbons said, ‘Too bloody right.’

‘Is there any connection between Camberwell and Swaythling?’ asked Walter.

‘Not that I can find, other than Neil,’ said Karen.

‘Keep looking. Just because we haven’t found it yet, doesn’t mean to say it isn’t there.’

‘So where do we go from here?’ asked Mrs West, who had been silent for some time, contenting herself to watch each of her charges individually, allocating each of them their own five minute slot, for staff assessment purposes, and those individual reports that she liked so much, that would soon be due again. It was a good question and Walter was eager to answer.

‘We are going to interview Munro just as soon as his whereabouts are known. Gibbons, I want you to keep looking into Veronica Camberwell’s background, and Browne and Thompson, you concentrate on Swaythling, the rest of you, take a good look at this ugly mug,’ and he pointed at the killer’s photofit face, ‘and get out there and bloody well find him!’

Fifteen

Walter called Karen into the private office. She sat in front of the desk and wondered what was on his mind. He sighed and sat back in his chair and said, ‘This Masonic