The Sixth Estate (The Craig Crime Series) (15 page)

BOOK: The Sixth Estate (The Craig Crime Series)
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“Liam, you interview Gordon and I’ll say nothing unless it’s essential.”

Liam squinted at Craig. He’d said it like he was a probationer who needed the interview practice. Craig caught the look and shook his head.

“It will give me a chance to watch his face for lies.”

“Aye, OK. As long as that’s all…”

“That’s all. For goodness sake, you could interview him in your sleep; we both know that.”

He took a seat in the cool interview room then realised they were both freezing and turned up the thermostat. Either John Ellis didn’t use the room much or the prisoners in Derry were hardier than the ones in Belfast. A minute later Ellis appeared with a tray of biscuits and drinks.

Liam grinned. “That’s very nice of you, Ellie.”

Ellis made a face. “Don’t call me that.”

Liam gave a coy smile. “You never used to mind.”

Ellis rolled his eyes. “I’m bringing Mr Gordon in now. Mind, some of those biscuits are for him.” He nodded at the two-way mirror. “I’ll be watching so I’ll know if you eat them all.”

A minute later, Brendan Gordon was seated opposite them and Craig handed him a cup of tea. He was a good looking lad; short, dark and saturnine, with the muscles and tan of a grounds man’s outdoor life. He looked as if he belonged on the Amalfi coast rather than Derry, but then there was strong Mediterranean blood in Ireland’s northwest. Craig wondered what Jane Bwye had thought of the boy. If he could see that Gordon was handsome what effect might he have had on a bored rich girl? Was Gordon the unsuitable boyfriend they were looking for?

Liam swallowed a biscuit and pushed the plate towards their guest.

“Have a biscuit, son. Tea’s too dry otherwise.” It made sense in Liam World.

Brendan Gordon shook his head and gave a defeated sigh. It came from the heart and Craig wondered how many times he’d been hauled in for interview in the past six years. Probably every time there’d been a local crime. Liam saw the young man’s dejection and shook his head.

“Look, lad. I know you were badly done by when you were a kid. You were put away when you shouldn’t have been. If I’d lifted you I’d just have nailed you for carrying a knife and you’d have got a suspended sentence.”

Gordon suddenly became animated. “I was only carrying it ’cos they were trying to jump me into a gang and I didn’t want to join.”

Liam nodded in sympathy while Craig focused on something else; the neutrality of Gordon’s voice. This was a boy who’d lived a hard life in Ireland’s northwest, yet his lack of accent said he could have come from anywhere in the world. Liam continued.

“Magilligan must have been hard at that age.”

Gordon gazed down at the table. “It’s hard at any age.”

“I’d say so. Well look, we’re not here to blame you for anything, so just have a biscuit and relax.”

Craig smiled to himself. Liam thought food was the ultimate panacea, plus, if Gordon had a biscuit he wouldn’t feel so bad about having another one himself. Gordon reached hesitantly for a custard cream. His hands were lean and worn with nails bitten to the quick. Liam took a second biscuit and munched contentedly for a moment, then he returned to the business in hand.

“It’s like this. We’re interviewing everyone who works for the Bwyes, just to find out what they know or saw. OK?”

Gordon nodded slowly but gave Liam a suspicious look.

“I wasn’t near the house when it happened. I was off work last week.”

Coincidence of convenience?

“What were you doing?”

The young man looked surprised, as if what he did on his days off was no-one’s business but his own. Craig saw him about to say as much then he reconsidered and shrugged.

“I was chilling at home.”

“Which is where?”

Liam already knew where Gordon lived but he wanted to hear it from him.

“I have a one bedroomed flat on the estate.”

“What did you do?”

“Listened to music and studied mainly. I was painting as well. Mrs Bwye lets us decorate however we like.”

Craig cut in. “What are you studying?”

Gordon stared at him like he hadn’t noticed he was there. He scrutinised Craig’s face untrustingly as he answered, as if he was waiting for him to take the piss.

“Landscape gardening. I want a career.”

Craig nodded, but not patronisingly as the younger man had expected.

“Good for you. We’ll need the name of your college.”

He waved Liam on and sat back.

“Is there anyone who can verify your whereabouts?”

“Only my mum. She was in and out all week, helping me paint.”

“No girlfriend?”

Craig watched as Gordon’s face ran the gamut of expressions. Surprise, embarrassment, defensiveness, and something else; something that he couldn’t put his finger on.

“No. Why? Is it compulsory?”

Liam guffawed. “You make it sound like a chore. Most lads your age would like a girlfriend, unless they’re gay.”

“I’m not gay!”

Craig’s quick glare reminded Liam about Human Rights.

“Aye, well. Not that there’s anything wrong with being gay, like. We have a gay sergeant.”

Craig was damn sure Jake didn’t want his business shared with the whole world so he cut in again.

“Do you have a partner, Mr Gordon?”

Gordon blushed and stammered “N…No.”

Both detectives knew it wasn’t the whole truth; Brendan Gordon mightn’t have had a partner but he had a crush on someone. His red face and the way he immediately chewed his nails said that he wasn’t going to give them a name. They’d have to get it some other way. Craig changed tack, opening a file that he’d brought with him.

“You were charged with GBH in 2010, Mr Gordon, but the charges were dismissed. Tell me what happened.”

Gordon coloured even further and shook his head, so Liam answered for him.

“Someone who wanted to up their status by fighting an ex-con?”

Gordon nodded sadly. “Why don’t they just leave me alone? I just want a quiet life.”

Craig read out loud. “He had a knife but you weren’t carrying, yet you managed to beat him pretty badly.”

Gordon turned on him belligerently. “Was that a question?”

Craig nodded and the gardener shrugged.

“I box. He came at me so I hit him; hard.”

Craig shook his head, not at the answer but at the fact Gordon had been charged with GBH when it had clearly been self-defence again. He turned the page, knowing exactly what he’d find; Terry Harrison’s name again, this time as a D.C.I. He’d had it in for the boy. He’d seen cops with personal vendettas before; every crime that was committed in their area they tried to make their favourite perp fit. How many other poor sods had Harrison fitted up just to get another button on his epaulette?

He made a note to dig deeper on Harrison’s past when he had the time and turned back to the case.

“What do you think of the Bwyes, Mr Gordon?”

Gordon shrugged. “Mrs Bwye’s nice but the old man’s a bastard.” No mention of Jane.

“To you or to her?”

“To everyone. He shouts at all his staff except Bernie Ross.”

“Why not at Ms Ross?”

Gordon chewed his nails again before answering with a shrug. “Probably because he can’t replace her. They’ve worked together for years.”

“What about Jane, what’s she like?”

Gordon’s blush deepened. They’d found his crush; Jane Bwye. He shrugged. “All right. She doesn’t like her dad either.”

“Oh?”

A sharp glance said the young man had realised that he’d said enough. He folded his arms. “Can I go now?”

Craig smiled to himself and signalled John Ellis to join them, then he rose to his feet.

“Sergeant Ellis here needs some information from you. Your friends at college, your tutor, that sort of thing. I’d also like you to list anyone you’ve seen at the house in the past three months and the names of any of Jane’s friends you might know. Then you’re free to leave. Thank you for your assistance.”

As they left the room they heard Gordon asking John Ellis. “Are you the gay sergeant then?”

Craig shot Liam a look that said ‘Equality refresher course’.

Chapter
Eleven

 

4.20 p.m.

 

By four-twenty Craig had called the group to order. Andy was rubbing his hands together attempting to get warm, so Craig nodded him to stand by the fire that Davy had lit. Davy was the only one who wasn’t freezing, but then he’d been in the house all day.

“OK, first Annette with Bernadette Ross’ re-interview, then Andy and Davy and then Liam will report on our meeting with Brendan Gordon.” He glanced around the room then asked in an exasperated tone that no-one failed to spot. “Does anyone know where Gerry and Julia are this time?”

Davy nodded. “On their way. Harrison s…summoned them for an update.”

Craig gave a deep sigh; power games. He waved Annette on, wondering what to do about Terry Harrison.

“OK, Bernadette Ross. After a bit of digging it seems the Mercedes was registered to the estate as a staff car, but Jane was the only person insured to drive it. Diana Bwye arranged it that way to stop Mr Bwye finding out. She probably didn’t inform Ms Ross for the same reason. Jane is twenty-one next week and that’s when most of her friends inherit, but Oliver Bwye has everything tied up in a trust until she’s thirty years old, then she gets ten million. Until then he’s keeping her on a very short financial leash.”

Liam whistled the way Annette had wanted to earlier and just then Julia and Gerry rushed in, muttering apologies. Craig motioned them towards the fire and nodded Annette on.

“That whistle says exactly what I thought. Anyway, the delayed trust caused friction, as you might imagine, so Diana Bwye slipped her daughter cash as well as sorting out the car.”

Liam cut in. “How did Jane avoid the old man seeing it?”

“She only drove it near the house when he wasn’t around. Like that Wednesday when she knew he was at the golf-club, maybe. The rest of the time she parked it in an out-building.”

Davy interrupted. “My mum used to s…slip Emmie and me extra pocket money and my dad was always moaning at her. I bet it caused trouble at the Bwyes.”

Annette nodded. “Although I suspect that Oliver Bwye did more than moan. By the way, did you verify domestic violence?”

Davy nodded. “Yep. Both the w…wife and daughter attended the local emergency department frequently, with s…serious cuts and bruises, and in Diana Bwye’s case two different fractures of her arms. Oliver Bwye’s a real charmer -”

Craig interrupted. “We’ll hear more on that in a minute. Anything more, Annette?”

“Yes, sorry. Ross has given me a list of Jane’s and Diana’s known associates and Bwye’s business colleagues. Apparently when he held business meetings he did it in town, in one of those meeting rooms you can hire.”

“He never brought business colleagues to the house?”

Annette shook her head. “Never. But he did bring women. He used escorts regularly.”

Liam gawped. “In his own home? What about the wife?”

“If she knew I’d be very surprised, but Bwye doesn’t sound as if he’d have cared either way. He locked himself in his study and let them in the back door. Remember he was the only one with that key.”

Davy glanced around the study in disgust while Liam continued gawping, open-mouthed, until Annette tipped it shut.

“Bwye used an escort agency in town; I’ve got the name.” She reached into her bag for her notepad and flicked quickly till she found the page. “The Kasbah.”

Andy laughed. “Why are none of these places ever called something normal, like Joe’s Body Shop?”

Liam’s bellowed laughter told him what he’d just said. Craig continued before the discussion deteriorated.

“You know this area, Andy. Have you ever heard of the place?”

Andy nodded. “Aye. It costs a ton and it’s supposed to have some gorgeous women, hey. It’s wealthy business types like Bwye who go there.”

“They don’t want the riff-raff spoiling the goods.”

Julia and Annette yelled “Liam!” in unison and Annette continued, “Those are human beings you’re talking about.”

Liam tried to look contrite. “You know what I mean.”

Craig nodded. “Unfortunately we do. Keep going, Annette.”

Annette glared at Liam as she carried on. “Bwye spent quite a bit on escorts. He regularly withdrew between five hundred and two thousand pounds cash from the bank; I’m getting more details on that. Two other things of note were that Ross just assumed that it was Jane driving the car that Wednesday; she didn’t actually see her face. And even Oliver Bwye can’t remove large sums of money from his companies unless the other directors agree. There are five directors in one company and six in the other and a vote has to be taken to release cash, so paying the ransom could be a problem.”

Craig thought for a moment. “Who inherits?”

“Mrs Bwye, and when she dies, Jane. They get forty per cent of the total legacy in cash as a lump sum, but they would still have to get the other directors say-so to liquidate their full assets.”

“Does Bwye have any insurance policies?”

Davy answered. “As w…well as the usual house and car insurance he has life insurance for twenty million on himself and Mrs Bwye.”

“Not Jane?”

“No. he probably didn’t think s…she would die first. He also has serious K&R insurance, like I guessed.”

“Any exclusions?”

Davy smiled. Craig missed nothing.

“Not on the K&R but on his life insurance. He’s excluded from any claims for death from heart disease and s…skin cancer.”

Craig was surprised. How many middle-aged men would agree to that?

Davy explained. “He had a heart attack w…when he was forty, followed by a coronary by-pass op, and a malignant s…skin cancer removed when he was fifty-two. No-one would insure him for either after that.”

It made sense; insurers weren’t known for their charity.

“OK. Anything else?”

“Just the normal; acts of God, s…self-inflicted injury.”

Craig nodded. The usual wriggle room.

“In case he decided to top himself to leave his family a fortune.”

Annette snorted. “Oliver Bwye sounds far too selfish for that. Sorry, I meant to say one more thing; Bernadette Ross was adamant that no-one drank whisky except Bwye and he was practically OCD about putting the decanter back. They have a cleaner three days a week but she would have known better than to leave it sitting on a lamp table.”

Craig shook his head. Had one of the first responders moved it on the Thursday morning? They’d said not, but only the prints would tell. He sighed heavily. The case seemed one step forward and two back at the moment and all they’d found so far was more people to interview.

“Thanks, Annette. Make sure you speak to the cleaner. Andy?”

Andy was staring down at his brogues, wondering if it had really been worth commandeering the waders to keep them clean. The searchers were probably planning a fate worse than death for him now. He shook himself from his gloomy thoughts to answer.

“I’ve set the searchers to work at the lake, but I’m not sure what we’re looking for, hey. They’re scouring the shore for tyre tracks, foot prints and debris, but it’s a half-mile around; it’ll take forever. It gets dark at four so I’ve told them to leave and restart tomorrow morning.”

Craig gave a thin smile. “I’m not sure what they’re looking for either; just keep going. Focus on the arc closest to the house and tell them to keep their eyes peeled for anything in the water.”

Andy looked surprised. “You think the Bwyes are in there?”

“I was thinking more of the dog. No-one’s seen it.”

“Oh, OK.”

Craig thanked goodness that Nicky wasn’t there. One mention of a dead puppy and she’d have burst into tears. Just as he was about to ask Julia to report, Davy cut in.

“On the s…subject of the dog…”

“Davy, if you don’t mind I’d like to hear from Julia and Gerry before we come to you.”

Davy didn’t mind at all. He’d been playing a game on his smart-pad and he was more than happy to carry on.

“What did Harrison want with you, Julia?”

Julia rolled her eyes and Gerry shook his head before answering.

“To prove that he’s still in charge.”

“Except that he isn’t.”

“Nope.”

He bit into his biscuit and Julia started to report.

“Gerry and I interviewed the Bwye’s cook and head gardener. Much of what they said matches what we’ve just heard. They both said that Bwye was violent to his wife and daughter and mentioned that he saw other women.”

Liam snorted. “You make it sound like he met them at a tea-dance.”

Julia squinted angrily; their old animosity wasn’t buried very deep. “It’s preferable to being vulgar like you.”

Liam went to retort but Craig silenced him with a look.

“Carry on.”

“He saw other women and overly controlled his family, so as a consequence Jane hated him.”

Craig cut in. “Enough to kill him?”

Julia was surprised. She spluttered. “I s…suppose so. You really think…”

“I think Jane Bwye’s was the only blood not found at the scene.”

“But would she really harm her mother and her dog? Everyone says she loved her mum.”

Craig conceded the point. “You’re probably right; we don’t even know if she was there when they were kidnapped. But…” He stared into space for a moment and everyone saw an idea forming. “…what if she found out about the kidnap afterwards and decided to capitalise on it?”

Liam gawped at him. “You mean she made the ransom demand, or got a male friend to do it?” He warmed to his theme. “Maybe the unsuitable boyfriend? God, that’s brilliant, boss.”

Annette shuddered. “And cold. To use your parents’ disappearance for money.”

Craig shook his head. “She may not have known her mother was there that night; how often was anyone but Oliver Bwye in that study? Anyway, it’s just speculation and a risky strategy if she did. If she falsified a ransom demand we could end up with two, so which would be the real one? And, as Annette said, is she really callous enough to use her parents’ kidnap as a way to make money?”

To his surprise Julia nodded. “Her father, I’d say yes, definitely. She hated him. Her mum…maybe she didn’t know she was there, or, I suppose if her mum had already been taken then she might have thought, why not? She didn’t take them but she might as well benefit. It makes sense if she was desperate to escape her father’s control.”

Craig wondered who’d controlled Julia enough to make her identify with such hatred. He let the group carry on speculating; free thinking often produced good ideas. After a few minutes he brought them back to earth with a bump.

“OK, we’ll know our suspicions are wrong if we find Jane’s body. Anything else, Julia?”

She glanced at Gerry and he shook his head. “Everything else just confirms what the rest of you have said. Bwye was a real piece of work who everyone hated, but he paid their wages on time.”

Craig nodded. The rich were different.

“OK, Davy. What have you got for us?”

Davy smiled and tapped his smart-pad back to work. “Plenty. OK, the relevant negatives. Bwye never had perimeter cameras, no idea why. Maybe he had the rifle instead. The s…staff are all clean on criminal record checks, except for one of his grounds men, Brendan Gordon. No history of anything naughty anywhere else. Mrs Bwye was involved with two local charities and treasurer of one of them. I’ll dig deeper but s…so far everything looks above board. Jane was a very s…spoilt girl. She may not have had her own money but she ran up her credit cards and bills at all the local s…shops, leaving her parents with no choice but to pay them off. She was s…studying fashion design but it took her three years to pass year one, so her dedication w…was definitely in question. The course mostly seemed like something to keep her dad off her back.”

Craig interrupted. “Any sign of the unsuitable boyfriend? He might have gone to college with her.”

Davy smiled. “There’s been a s…string of unsuitable boyfriends apparently; the latest seems to be a guy called Justin O’Hare. He’s twenty-three and his family are very w…wealthy so I’m not s…sure why he was unsuitable.”

Gerry cut in. “The cook gave us his name as well. She said the family fell on hard times when his father made some bad deals. Said he was only after Jane for her money.”

“That sounds plenty unsuitable to me, boss.”

Craig squinted at Liam. He hadn’t forgotten his earlier clumsy remarks. “Carry on, Davy.”

“OK, O’Hare’s a possibility but I’m running them all for the past two years. I’ll let you know if anything pings.”

“What about the list of enemies from Cameron Lawton?”

“I’m s…starting on those now, and Bwye’s bank accounts -”

Annette interrupted. “You mentioned the negatives. Anything positive?”

Davy smiled at her and nodded. His hair didn’t fall over his face as it usually did and Craig suddenly realised that it was in a ponytail. Another fashion trend; maybe short back and sides would become one soon.

“Two things. The dog had a GPS tag and it’s moving, so that means it’s probably not dead. I’ve got a trace on it.”

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