Even though it was a Sunday, Noel Grayson was at work. However, he had refused to meet them there.
After requesting an interview, it was the right of any individual to meet the police at a place of their choosing, and Noel Grayson had selected a restaurant just down the street from his office.
Lutyens was an up-market brasserie, sat opposite Goldman Sachs across Fleet Street. Its décor was simple creams and browns, and it held a refined ambience that gave it the kind of appeal wealthy financial types gravitated toward.
Walking in and flashing his credentials to the maître d, Neil was ushered over to a side area where a man in a fine suit sipped coffee as he lounged back on a tan couch.
“Ah, good morning gentlemen.” said Noel Grayson, spying their arrival and standing. “It is a pleasure to meet with you. A drink perhaps?”
“No thank you, Mister Grayson.” said Neil, taking a seat next to Artimus, opposite Noel.
Noel was a well-dressed man. His suit looked brand-new, his expensive shoes were heavily polished, and his golden watch was encrusted with gemstones. His hair was significantly greying, with large stripes showing through the brown. His eyes were wide and it was clear he was used to assessing people, his attention flicking from Neil to Artimus, weighing up every movement either made. Even with all the traits, it was clear there was a strong familial likeness between Noel and his brother Michael.
“My name is Detective Townsend and this is Artimus Crane.” said Neil, noting the slightly worried look that appeared momentarily on Noel’s face. “I assume you know my colleague?”
It was clear something was conflicting Noel. He rocked, nodding as he thought about what to say. “You said you were here to ask about the deaths at my Brother’s house?” Noel shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. “However, can I ask a question before we begin so I am not on the wrong track here?”
“Be my guest.” said Neil, happy to entertain the query.
“You are definitely a police officer?”
“I am.” said Neil, puzzled. He glanced at Artimus. “He is not however. I can see how that might be confusing.”
“He’s not confused like that.” said Artimus, sighing. “He thinks this is a rite. He knows my name from masonic circles and has made the leap he’s being tested right now. Well, I’m sorry to inform you, but you’re not. You’ll have to wait some more to reach that elusive third degree Mister Grayson.”
“I don’t know what…” started Noel, his voice unsure.
“Stop with the act!” said Artimus, clearly upset. “My colleague and I know you are a mason, but unfortunately you are not the man we are looking for.”
“How do we know that exactly?” said Neil, in a whisper.
Artimus paused, turning toward Neil. “About five minutes into our journey, you and Dawn were kissing on the back seat. I was sitting next to you with Natasha astride me. As Natasha began to remove my trousers…”
Neil’s heart skipped a beat. He did not want to hear this. He had to think fast to get Artimus to be quiet. Why was Noel Grayson not the man they were looking for? Who were they looking for? What was Noel Grayson to them?
Noel Grayson was a mason. They believed he either bought the house in Belsize Park for, or disguised as, Michael Grayson. He was also responsible for the purchase of the Prospect of Whitby, which… “You can’t be the man we’re looking for because otherwise you would not think this was a rite.” said Neil, panting hard as Artimus went silent. “You probably also did not buy the Prospect of Whitby public house.”
“Buy it?” said Noel, leaning forward. “Why would I…”
“He just attends the meetings there.” said Artimus, patting Neil on the back. “Good work.” He turned his attention back to Noel, pouting as he decided where to take their questions. “I am going to be very direct Mister Grayson, and I want you to be the same. Simple yes or no answers. Any pause and I will assume the worst. Understood.”
Noel Grayson’s brow furrowed a little, but his focus never wavered. “Understood.”
“Did you by the house in Belsize Park for your brother?”
“No.”
“Are you an ecossaise, practising out of the reformed Prospect of Whitby?”
“Er…”
“Mister Grayson!” shouted Artimus.
“Yes. Yes.”
“Did you get your brother his job at Hybrid Incorporated?”
“No, absolutely not.” said Noel, shock crossing his face.
“Is your Lodge Master a man by the name of Thomas Upton?”
“How did you..?”
“Answer the damn question!”
“Yes.”
“To your knowledge, has Mister Upton or any of his staff from Hybrid ever contacted you for financial or other assistance of any kind?”
“No.”
Artimus stopped, looking worriedly down at the table. It was clear that was not the answer he expected.
“Has… er…”
Neil was taken aback. It appeared as though Artimus was out of questions. Thinking fast, he stepped in. “Have you ever had any dealings with an MP by the name of Clara Robertson?”
“Er… Yes and No. All the private equity funds of the members of the house are run through Goldman Sachs. We have minor dealings with all of them at some point.”
“But you work the foreign derivatives desk. Why would you deal with them?”
“Who told you that?” said Noel, surprised. “I stopped working derivatives about three years ago.”
“Do you know a woman by the name of Fiona Shaw?” said Artimus, stepping back in.
“No.”
“Then one final thing,” said Artimus, clearly leading up to a big one, “how long have you been sleeping with your brother’s wife?”
Noel went pale so quickly Neil thought he might faint. “How did you find out about us?”
“Guesswork mostly.” said Artimus, pleased. “Thanks for the confirmation. So, how long?”
“About two years.” said Noel, rubbing his hands together. “This doesn’t have to get out, does it? My wife will take everything if she finds out.”
“Tell me about the houses of your brother again and I’ll see what I can do.” said Neil, grasping where Artimus was going. “You said you didn’t buy the house in Belsize Park for your brother, yet we know Hybrid didn’t give them it either. And what about the house in Hatfield? Why has your brother never sold it?”
“All I know is what Mike and Harry, sorry Harriet have told me. They honestly believe they got the house as part of his transfer to his new company. I don’t know why they would tell you different. They kept the house in Hatfield to let. I’ll admit, I pay that let so me and Harry can use it.”
“Their project lead, a Doctor Waites,” said Artimus, frowning, “told us you did organise your brother’s job at Hybrid. In point of fact, we know his salary is deposited in one of your accounts in the Isle of Wight and he is paid by you from another. So, that being said, do you want to explain what all the lies were about just now?”
“My brother is not being paid by me, and I can guarantee you I have no accounts in the Isle of Wight. I don’t know where you are getting your information from, but it’s inaccurate.”
Neil studied Noel Grayson’s face. The rebuttal was firm, but not overly so, and his pupils did not dilate as he delivered it. The man was telling the truth.
However, if Noel Grayson was telling the truth, then who was paying Mister Grayson? More to the point, why were there accounts linked to Noel Grayson in existence on the Isle of Wight at all?
“Very last question, Mister Grayson.” said Artimus, getting ready to leave. “Does your lawyer or your accountant have lasting powers of attorney to do works in your name?”
“My accountant does, sure.” said Noel, fidgeting. “Not my lawyer.”
“And whom might that be?” said Artimus, standing.
“My wife.” said Noel, his smile awkward. “How do you think I ever got to meet a woman like that?”
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br /> “Of course.” said Artimus, offering Noel a hand to shake.
“Thank you for your time, Mister Grayson.” added Neil, beginning to leave. “We’ll be in touch.”
Chapter 30
Upgrade in Thinking