Gunrunner (7 page)

‘I’ll put money on our Fernando there having a bit of form,’ said Dave, as we made our way to the main door and back into the street. But Dave assumed that everyone had ‘a bit of form’ until the contrary was proved.

‘I don’t think that Roberts has an unblemished record, either, Dave,’ I said, and turned to Nicola. ‘What was it you asked him in Spanish, Nicola?’

‘I didn’t ask him anything, guv. I recited a couple of verses of a Spanish poem I’d learned when I was studying the language.’

‘What d’you make of Roberts claiming to have been at the club when Fernando says he wasn’t there, guv?’ asked Dave, when we’d finished laughing at Nicola’s subterfuge.

‘Clever question of yours, Dave,’ I said, always believing in giving credit where it was warranted. ‘We’ll wait a day or two and then interview Roberts again. He’ll probably say that he was with a woman.’

‘But if that was the case, why didn’t he say so?’ asked Dave.

‘Probably because he was screwing the arse off someone else’s wife and is worried that you’ll want to check his story,’ said Nicola, demonstrating once again that she was not the demure young lady that she appeared to be.

‘Well, I shall,’ I said. ‘In due course.’

FIVE

O
n Saturday morning, Dave and I went, once again, to the premises of Kerry Trucking at Chiswick.

We found Bernard Bligh in his office overlooking the loading bay.

‘Good morning, Mr Bligh.’ I looked enquiringly at the other man in his office.

‘This is Carl Thorpe, fellow director and the company secretary,’ said Bligh.

‘I’m Detective Chief Inspector Brock, Mr Thorpe. I’m investigating Mrs Hammond’s murder.’

‘Yes, Bernard told me.’ Thorpe stepped across the office and shook hands. ‘Are you getting anywhere with finding out who killed her, Chief Inspector?’ he asked.

‘We’re following a few leads, Mr Thorpe,’ I said, ‘but these are early days.’

‘I suppose so,’ said Thorpe.

‘Perhaps one of you can answer a question for me, though.’

‘Fire away,’ said Bligh.

‘We’re interested in tracing the present whereabouts of Gary Dixon, the driver you sacked.’

‘I’ve no idea where he is,’ said Bligh, and turned to Thorpe. ‘You keep the staff records, Carl. Have you still got an address for him?’

‘It should be in the office somewhere.’ Thorpe glanced in my direction. ‘Bear with me a minute, Chief Inspector, and I’ll go next door and get my girl to have a look.’

‘D’you know who takes control of the business now that Mrs Hammond’s dead?’ I asked, while we were waiting for Thorpe to rummage through his records.

‘No, I don’t,’ said Bligh. ‘As matter of fact, Carl and I were discussing what was likely to happen when you arrived. I’ve got a thirty-five per cent holding in the company and Carl holds ten per cent, but Kerry held the majority shareholding of fifty-five per cent. So it all depends on what’s in her will. If she’s left her shares to that waster of a husband, and he’s allowed to get his hands on the business, he’ll likely make as big a mess of it as he has of his own. And then we’ll all go down the tubes.’

‘Last time we were here, you told me that Nick Hammond is an estate agent.’

‘Of sorts,’ said Bligh dismissively. ‘He’s got flashy offices in the West End somewhere, but personally, I’d never consider letting him sell a house of mine. He’s a bit dodgy, if you ask me. I reckon he’ll go belly up before long, and if he gets the chance to siphon off cash from this company to support his own, he’ll be throwing good money after bad. And we’ll be left high and dry.’

It was an interesting comment that Bligh had made about Nicholas Hammond’s business acumen, or lack of it, particularly as it came from an established and successful businessman. I decided that I’d have someone take a careful look at Hammond’s estate agency.

‘Did he and Mrs Hammond get on?’ asked Dave.

‘As I said the last time you were here, I think they had one or two ups and downs, but they seemed to have resolved whatever differences they had. And like I told you previously, I believe she had to shore up his finances once or twice.’ Bligh lowered his voice. ‘What’s more, the way she put herself about at times led me to think that Kerry wasn’t averse to having the occasional fling, and I don’t suppose that contributed anything to marital harmony.’

That was not only interesting, but had been vaguely hinted at by Kerry’s parents. And if it were true it opened up the possibility of having to seek an incalculable number of lovers.

‘Have you got any names, Mr Bligh?’ asked Dave.

‘Names? What names?’

‘The names of anyone with whom she might’ve been having an affair.’

‘Oh, I see. No, it was just a sort of feeling I got,’ said Bligh, but he gave the impression that he wasn’t being completely frank about Kerry’s private life.

‘I’ve only got the address we had for Dixon when he was working here,’ said Thorpe, coming back into Bligh’s office with an open file in his hand. ‘According to his HGV licence, he was living at twenty-five Hardacre Street, Ealing.’

‘Did you take up references for Dixon when he started work here, Mr Bligh?’ asked Dave.

‘I suppose we must’ve done.’ Bligh glanced at Thorpe. ‘Carl?’

‘I imagine so,’ said Thorpe, ‘but if I remember correctly it was Kerry who engaged him. She just told me to put him on the books, so I suppose she must’ve run some checks.’

‘Why d’you ask?’ queried Bligh.

‘Because he had previous convictions,’ I said, breaching numerous regulations that forbade me from imparting Dixon’s criminal history to a third party. ‘Apart from the one for which you sacked him.’

‘Bloody hell!’ exclaimed Bligh. ‘If I’d known that, he’d never have got through the gate. I wonder what was so special about Dixon that Kerry took him on.’

‘So do I,’ I said, but in view of what Bligh had just told me about Kerry having the occasional fling, I thought I could guess.

‘It looks as though he slipped through the cracks as far as references are concerned,’ said Bligh. ‘But I’m not surprised at what you say, Mr Brock.’

‘Any reason in particular?’

‘I never trusted Dixon, and I was always worried that we’d get a phone call from a customer saying that there was a shortfall in the load they’d received. Or, worse still, he’d been caught bringing in a load of illegal immigrants. I was concerned, too, that his load might be hijacked one day and that he would claim to be the innocent party, a scam that’s as old as the hills. But in a way, I was proved right to be suspicious when the customs people nicked him for bootlegging. What really annoyed me was that they told me he’d been at it for some time. I always prided myself on spotting a dodgy driver, but I obviously didn’t suss him.’

‘When exactly did you sack him?’ asked Dave.

‘Eleventh of September last,’ said Thorpe promptly, who still had Dixon’s file in his hand. ‘It was after the customs people turned up here making enquiries about him. They told us he’d been arrested at Dover and was being charged with the illegal importation of a large quantity of spirits. We were damned lucky that the vehicle wasn’t impounded, or even confiscated. But I think that only happens if the vehicle has been specially adapted for smuggling,’ he added as an afterthought.

That comment about a specially adapted vehicle made me think, and I determined that I would look into it.

‘I wasn’t having any drivers who got up to that sort of malarkey,’ said Bligh firmly. ‘So he was out on his ear the same day.’

‘What was Mrs Hammond’s reaction to you giving Dixon his cards?’ asked Dave.

‘As I recall, she just shrugged. I got the impression that she was a bit put out by it, but she didn’t say anything. She couldn’t really argue with me for giving a driver the elbow when he’d been nicked by customs.’

‘Did Nick Hammond ever come here?’ I was interested in the Hammonds’ relationship, and whether he’d shown any desire to become involved in Kerry’s haulage company.

‘Occasionally,’ said Bligh. ‘But only ever at the end of the day, and that was usually to collect Kerry when they were going out somewhere. I don’t think she liked him poking his nose into the business. She probably thought that his inefficiency was contagious.’

We left it at that. We’d added a little more to what we knew of the Hammonds, but not much.

‘I think this afternoon might be a good time to have another word with Nick Hammond, Dave,’ I said, as we drove back to Curtis Green.

‘Is he likely to be at home, guv? Most estate agents I know of are open on Saturdays. Sundays even.’

I rang Hammond’s home phone number from my mobile, confirmed that he was at Barnes and made an appointment to see him that afternoon.

When we returned to Curtis Green, I spent an hour or two scanning the pitifully few, and largely useless, statements that we’d acquired since the discovery of Kerry Hammond’s body. I then set Kate Ebdon to checking on the address that Thorpe had given us for Gary Dixon.

‘D’you want him nicked if I find him, guv?’ Kate asked.

‘Yes, he’s worth a pull if he’s there,’ I said. ‘If not, find out what you can about him. Have a word with his wife, assuming he’s got one.’

‘He has, guv. Well, I imagine so. I did a voters’ list check and it shows a Sonia Dixon living there.’

Dave and I grabbed a quick bite to eat, and made our way to Barnes.

Exuding what I was certain was a false air of bonhomie, Nick Hammond gave all the appearance of a man who had quickly recovered from his wife’s death. Wearing a sweater over a blue shirt, chocolate brown chinos and expensive loafers, he invited us into the sitting room.

‘I’m having a bit of a job finding Kerry’s bank statements,’ he said, as we sat down.

‘That’s a pity,’ said Dave. ‘It means that we’ll have to get a Crown Court judge’s warrant to serve on her bank.’ He took out his pocketbook and flicked it open, ready to record details. ‘Perhaps you’d give me the address of the branch where she banked.’ He looked up expectantly.

The ploy worked. ‘Oh, hang on, though,’ said Hammond, flicking his fingers at feigned recollection. ‘If you can give me a minute or two, I’ve just thought where she might’ve kept them.’ He jumped up and hastened from the room, and I heard him going upstairs, presumably to the safe I’d discovered in the bedroom.

I wondered why Hammond should’ve made such a blatant attempt to prevent us from seeing his late wife’s bank statements, and I was now even more interested to see them in the hope that they might reveal some secret that would aid our investigation.

Taking advantage of Hammond’s absence, Dave took the wedding photograph from his briefcase and placed it on the side table whence he had taken it three days previously.

‘These are the last two years’ statements,’ said Hammond, flourishing a sheaf of bank documents as he returned. ‘Kerry always got online statements, but then printed a copy of them to keep here. I think she kept a duplicate set at the office as well. Very good with paperwork, was Kerry.’

‘Seems a bit pointless, getting online statements and then making a hard copy,’ commented Dave, who knew about these things. He glanced quickly at the statements and then put them in his briefcase.

‘I suppose so,’ said Hammond, ‘but Kerry was very much a belt and braces girl.’

‘Does the name Gary Dixon mean anything to you, Mr Hammond?’ I asked. I’d posed the same question to him at the airport when we’d told him of Kerry’s death, but I was interested to hear what he had to say this time. I was disappointed.

‘You asked me that at the airport,’ said Hammond, ‘and no, the name means nothing to me. Why, is it important?’

‘I’ve no idea, Mr Hammond,’ I said, ‘but a murder enquiry is a bit like a jigsaw puzzle: you collect all sorts of odd pieces and try to fit them together.’

‘I see.’ Hammond appeared unimpressed by this novel approach to solving serious crime. ‘When am I likely to get Kerry’s car back, Chief Inspector?’

‘There are still a number of scientific tests to be carried out on the vehicle, Mr Hammond.’ Although I’d noticed a new Mini Cooper on the drive when we’d arrived, it seemed that Hammond was more concerned about getting his hands on the Jaguar. Certainly more concerned than he seemed to be about his wife’s murder. But I was on the point of disillusioning him. ‘However, the Jaguar will be returned to its owners, Kerry Trucking Limited, once we’ve finished examining it.’

‘But it’s Kerry’s car, surely?’

‘It’s registered to the company,’ said Dave, ‘and it’s the company that’ll get it back.’

‘But Kerry owned the company.’

‘Not all of it,’ said Dave. ‘It’s something you’ll have to take up with her fellow directors.’

‘Which leads me to my next point, Mr Hammond,’ I said. ‘Do you have a copy of Mrs Hammond’s will?’

Hammond hesitated long enough for me to know that his answer, when it came, would be untrue. ‘Er, no, I’m afraid not,’ he said eventually. ‘In fact, I’m not sure she’d made one,’ he added, belying his previous statement that Kerry was a belt and braces girl. ‘Is it important?’

‘Not really,’ I said offhandedly, in an attempt to imply that it was of no real interest to me. But I was sure that a businesswoman with the assets that Kerry Hammond possessed would not have died intestate. Doubtless Bernard Bligh would know about it, and it was a possibility that Kerry Trucking’s company solicitors would have taken care of drawing up a will for Kerry.

But Hammond answered that question for me. ‘I do know that she used the company’s solicitors for private stuff, like the purchase of this house.’

‘Is the house jointly owned by you and your wife?’ asked Dave.

‘No, it’s in Kerry’s name,’ said Hammond tersely. I got the impression that such an arrangement did not please him greatly. ‘She lived here with her previous husband.’

‘Do you know where I can find these lawyers?’ I asked.

‘I’m afraid not. I seem to recall Kerry saying that all the paperwork, including the deeds for this house, were kept by a solicitor, but I’ve no idea which one. I dare say that someone at her offices in Chiswick will be able to help you.’ And then Hammond reverted to our previous conversation. ‘I imagine that the bulk of her estate will come to me,’ he volunteered, ‘although we’d never discussed it. Certainly mine would have gone to Kerry. Quite frankly I didn’t expect a woman of her age to die when she did. Well, you don’t, do you?’