Chapter 10 - Difficult People
Dean wasted no time in ingratiating himself with the lovely creature behind the Reception desk. He let her know that her help would be invaluable to him, and that she must feel free to lean on him in any emergency. She looked at him from under her eyelashes and smiled beautifully. His heart melted, and he almost forgot his regular device for maintaining contact with favourite female informants. He was writing her name slowly and lovingly in his notebook, his lips forming the musical sounds "Im - O - gen", and almost moved on to the next candidate in a happy dream.
Just in time he remembered, and whipped out a tube of mints from his pocket. He offered her one discreetly, and laid them down on the desk as he murmured his usual line: "Please let me know immediately if you notice anything unusual, or remember anything that may be relevant - however insignificant it may seem." The official-sounding words had their effect - Imogen looked wide-eyed and earnest as she whispered "Oh, yes, I certainly will," and popped the mint into her mouth.
"Now you're one of my mint spies," he grinned. Imogen stopped sucking on the mint and looked at him without comprehension. 'Not on my wavelength, but so gorgeous,' thought Dean.
The enamoured sergeant moved around the building, taking names and making the same request, omitting the peppermint inducement. When he had a complete list of those present and the details of when the rest were expected in, he returned to the Reception area. He badly wanted to know what was happening in the basement, but first he paid another visit to Imogen.
"Did I leave my mints here?" he enquired innocently. "Oooh, yes," she replied, handing them over. Before he could try a line of questioning that established her availability, a commotion erupted at the main entrance. He scraped himself away from leaning on her desk and marched over to where a young constable was trying to prevent a vicar from entering the building. The cleric was loudly proclaiming his identity, and demanding that he be allowed in to see Mr Goswell.
"Can I help, sir? We have no intention of preventing the Council from going about its usual business, but we do have a situation here that may cause some disruption."
"I need to speak to the Parish Clerk, on a matter of some importance - it may even have a bearing on your investigation here. I cannot tell until I have spoken to Mr Goswell," the vicar announced.
"Let him through, Constable," Dean said in a relaxed manner. "Please come this way, sir, and I will take some details. Mr Goswell is not in his office at present, but it may be possible to relay a message to him." He extracted his notebook, taking his time, in order to let the other man know who was in control of the encounter.
"Really, I must protest, I cannot disclose the information to anyone but the Parish Clerk at present," the vicar grumbled. It got him nowhere, and he was forced to stand in front of the Reception desk while Imogen phoned around to find James Goswell. Fiona had seen him in the Clandecy Room, and welcomed the excuse to fetch him. When James appeared in reception Dean immediately arranged that all three of them should go back to the Clandecy Room to hear what the vicar had to say. All the protests the reverend gentleman made fell on deaf ears.
Once in the Clandecy Room, Sergeant Dean asked the Parish Clerk to close the big oak doors. "We are dealing with a murder, gentlemen, and all information which is material to our investigation must be disclosed immediately. Now, vicar, please tell Mr Goswell what you came to say."
Reverend Brentwood-Green looked most unhappy, and began falteringly: "I didn't realise you'd had a murder here, I'm sorry to interrupt - you must be very busy...." James looked at him, then at the sergeant, and replied, "Please don't think you're interrupting me - the police are doing everything, of course. I'm just trying to keep out of the way."
Dean was getting impatient, so he interrupted: "If you could just explain what it is you had to tell the Clerk...."
The clergyman wrung his hands, looking apologetically at the portraits hung around the room. "Well," he began again, "it has to do with.....Councillor Clandecy."
Dean wrote feverishly in his notebook. The vicar continued, "I was told yesterday, by his mother, that the family land has been sold to Egron, and it occurred to me that there might have been a conflict of interest.....I mean, as he would have been involved in the debates before the Development was agreed...." His voice tailed off, and he realised how much he sounded like a sneaky child telling tales - 'Sir, Sir, horrid little Piers, the rich kid, has been naughty, sir'.
Dean, however, was still writing in his notebook. Someone was going to take this seriously anyway. The Parish Clerk stared at the vicar and tried to get his brain in gear. Today was going from bad to worse. Finally he gathered his wits and responded in what he hoped was a suitably official tone: "I see. Well, of course, this will have to be looked into. You can leave it with me, vicar, and I will investigate the circumstances fully." He waited, hoping that Brentwood-Green would take the hint and leave.
"What is the penalty for abusing the position of Councillor?" the vicar asked.
'Honestly,' thought James, 'he sounds positively vindictive!'
Out loud he responded: "If such a thing were to be found true, the Councillor would lose his position, and there could possibly be charges brought against him - depending on the severity of the offense - but of course we do not yet know sufficient detail about this particular instance."
The vicar looked slightly offended, but turned and began to open the door. "Just a moment, please, sir," Dean said firmly. The vicar turned and waited. "Downstairs you implied that your information might have a bearing on the case - could you explain, please?"
Now the vicar really squirmed. It was stretching the imagination to connect the fortunate timing of a land sale with a murder. He had even deliberately implied that the land belonged to both the mother and the son. Now Dean was on to him, just because he'd been stupid enough to throw his weight about in Reception. He decided to retreat. "I merely thought that the Council might decide it had a bearing - it was not for me to judge. Otherwise I would naturally have gone to the Police in the first instance," he said virtuously.
Dean let him go, and waited until he was out of sight before asking the Clerk, "Is that correct, what you told him? Criminal charges could be brought?"
James was relieved that this was one area he knew, and didn't have to ask Fiona for help. He had mugged up on the law surrounding Parish Council procedures when he applied for the job, knowing he would have to impress the interviewers. He explained to Dean that it was definitely against the rules not to declare an interest if something was being discussed in which a Councillor had a personal or financial interest. Councillor Mrs Cooper took it to ridiculous lengths, and had once declared an interest in a proposed extension to a pet shop on the grounds that she loved dogs.
When Dean and James Goswell emerged from the Clandecy Room, D.I. Helford was coming up the stairs. Dean was eager to tell him the new information, but one look at his boss's face told him to save it for later. They went into the Clerk's office and shut the door behind themselves. Helford sat down on the Clerk's leather swivel chair and leaned back with his eyes closed. After a moment or two, he opened his eyes and looked at Dean with a strained expression. He seemed to have aged since the beginning of the day.
"Get your head round this, if you can, Dean." Jeff Dean leaned forward, his eyes intent on Helford's face. "There are two more bodies down there."
Dean's jaw dropped. "Two more.....what, you mean behind that block wall?"
"Exactly. I had a feeling it was hiding something....nasty. Forensics say they've been there a while - months, at least. Badly decomposed, no identifying marks on clothing or personal effects. Male, adult - that's it for now. It took them most of the night to remove the wall without disturbing either side. Good lads......good lads......an awful job....." He sounded so weary, and genuinely appalled that such horrors had been found on his patch.
Helford remained lost in thought for a while, then su
ddenly asked, "What was that dog collar doing in here? Who let him in?"
Dean explained the information the vicar had brought, and Helford seemed glad of the distraction. "Hmmm, Clandecy - where have I heard that recently?" he mused.
"There's a room in here called the Clandecy room, because they were the family who owned this place before it was the Council offices," Dean answered. Having grown up in Pebbleton, he was familiar with the village talk his mother had passed down.
"Yes, I know that, but Clandecy was mentioned by someone else in connection with......no, it's no good, I'll have to wait until it comes back to me. Anyway, we'd better interview all the staff now. Got the list?"
Dean handed it over, and his boss ticked off those they had talked to the previous evening. They would have to be seen again in due course, but he wanted fresh faces, fresh points of view. "Let's have your latest flame, shall we?" Dean grinned and went off to fetch Imogen. This took some time as she had to be replaced on Reception, and there was a staff shortage due to holidays. Finally Fiona stalked down to the desk, grumbling about the amount of work she had to put on hold.
Imogen had little to say about Gerald Chewter. She did confirm that she had been warned by some other female staff about 'Perilous Gerald', but she had not had a problem with him 'as her boyfriend was a judo expert who picked her up some nights after work wearing his kit.' She giggled shyly, but Dean's face fell at this disclosure. Helford ignored him and pressed on briskly. "Do you know of any staff who had a particular problem with him?"
"Is he the body?" Imogen asked, ignoring the question.
"We are awaiting confirmation, Miss Stanley, but certainly we are concerned that Mr Chewter seems to have disappeared."
"Seems like everyone's disappearing," said Imogen unexpectedly.
Helford waited, but Imogen did not enlarge on this, and he assumed she meant the accounts manager's husband. He did not want to prompt her about Kim, however, as it was her name he was expecting in relation to Chewter's unwanted attentions.
Imogen said that as far as she knew, any problems with Mr Chewter had been minor and had been resolved quite easily. Helford decided to change the subject. "Have you noticed any unusual situations recently?" he asked. She replied that everything was normal. Finally he asked her to describe her new boss, James Goswell. She warmed to this subject, and spoke of his patience and good humour in the face of adversity. On further enquiry it was established that his trials consisted mainly of 'putting up with Fiona Carvell'. He then let her go, and consulted his list.
"The Tourism lady next I think, Dean," he requested. Dean was slumped in a posture of abject misery, so Helford said briskly, "Oh, come on, man - surely you didn't think a glorious vision like that was going to be single! Now get on with it or we'll be all day. And ask whoever's on the door if any reports have been delivered."
Dean set off down to the entrance, and spoke to the constable on the door. He promised to send up anything that came in immediately. Dean crossed the car park to the Tourism office and opened the door. At first he thought the place was deserted, but hearing voices he peered over the counter. A female rear met his gaze first, clothed in green cotton shorts. Its owner was lecturing a junior colleague, also on hands and knees, on the merits of capital letters on banners. They were painting a banner on which the words 'EXTREME SPORTS WEEKEND' were outlined. He coughed.
The lecturer turned her head and gave him a stern look. Realising that he was probably on official business she scrambled to her feet and barked impatiently "Can I help you?"
Dean wondered how she treated tourists, but as he was not dressed in holiday gear he supposed that he would have been given more courtesy wearing a knotted hankie on his head and looking lost. "Eve Thornton?" he enquired, showing her his warrant card.
"Yes - oh, blast, the police. Look, I've got to get this finished by lunchtime for the boys to put up - what is it you want to know?"
"Detective Inspector Helford would like to speak to you in the main building, just routine, but it is important. Perhaps your colleague could take over for a while."
Eve looked as if she didn't trust poor Melissa anywhere near the banner, but begrudgingly agreed. "As long as it's quick," she demanded, and without waiting for Dean, she flung up the hinged section of the counter, shot out of the door and was halfway across the car park before he could follow.
The constable on duty detained Eve long enough for Dean to catch up, and he waved a large envelope at him as he approached. "Just arrived, sir," he announced triumphantly. Dean took Eve upstairs and asked her to wait in the Clandecy Room. He went straight in to the Clerk's office, where Helford was writing a list.
The envelope contained a report confirming that the dental records of Gerald Chewter matched the body found in front of the breeze block wall. There was also a signed warrant to search any area of the Council offices, and another to search Chewter's house. After a few phone calls to get extra men onto these areas, Helford sat back with a sigh. "We need to look at the bank records, just in case there were any backhanders going on. That's the trouble with officials, corruption is the first possibility you look at. Perhaps Chewter was taking bribes to get the Development moving ahead. A lot of people are making a lot of money here lately, I'm not saying illegally, but there's always someone out to make an easy buck......"
"Shall I fetch the Tourism lady, sir, or do you want to start on the Council files now?" Dean asked.
"The Tourism lady, I think. We've made her wait long enough. But any chance you could rustle up a cuppa too?"
Dean went off to see what he could do, and ran into Fiona Carvell. She made such a fuss about being asked to make tea for policemen that James Goswell heard and came out of the accounts office. "I'll do it, Fiona," he said cheerfully. Dean gratefully left him to it and found Eve Thornton stewing in the Clandecy Room.
"Sorry for the delay, the Inspector will see you now," he told her. "Don't be alarmed, it's just routine questions."
"I'm not worried about that, I'm more worried about the banner. Don't know why they couldn't give me the funding to have it printed properly - it's going to look dreadful. And then those idiots from Amenities will probably hang it all wrong like they did last year. Absolute gibbons, the lot of them!" Her auburn curls bounced in annoyance as she marched along beside Dean.
They entered the Clerk's office and she settled herself in a chair, folded her arms and put her head forward. She reminded Dean of a tiger ready to pounce.
Helford asked her about her knowledge of Chewter, her personal dealings with him, and any unpleasantness she knew of between him and the staff. She was frank, announcing: "Ghastly little man. Best day of my life when he went. Had a devil of a job getting anything past him - couldn't bear to spend money on anything; wouldn't back me when Health and Safety tried to stop the Extreme Sports last year - had to deal with everything myself. Only just got an assistant now - took me a year to get that agreed." She spoke rapidly in staccato sentences, and Dean struggled to keeping up with his notes.
Helford probed a bit further on the personal and financial aspects, but it seemed that Eve's job meant more to her than any personal relationships. As long as she could do the things she wanted in Tourism, she was happy. Chewter had been a thorn in her flesh, but no more than that. She had heard the morning's rumours like everyone else, and didn't seem to care if the body had been positively identified. Helford was beginning to get the impression that everyone would be glad it was Chewter and not someone they liked. They had yet to suffer the shock of the two extra bodies.
Eve was dismissed, and raced out of the room. The policemen finished their tea and headed for the accounts office. Kim was ready for them, and had spent the morning getting out all the files she thought they would need. It was great, thought Helford, to have the co-operation of a sensible woman. He felt a pang of pity for her, robbed as she was of the normal pleasure of marriage and children by her bizar
re situation. His own marriage had been a peaceful bonding of two placid people, and he wished such gentle happiness on the rest of the world.
He looked through the pile she had stacked on a side table, and noticed there were no employee records. "Fiona - Miss Carvell - has those in her office, in the safe," she told him.
James was in the room, sitting at the spare desk. "You need the staff records?" he asked in a curious tone. "I'd have thought this would be about money, if anything. Surely you don't need to waste time wading through that boring lot?"
"I think we'd better see everything, if you please, Mr Goswell." Helford was interested in the man's reaction. He seemed to have thought about the possible reasons for Chewter's death, for one thing. He also didn't seem keen on the personnel files being examined. In that case his would be the first one checked.
They carried the files through to the Clerk's office, and then went to tackle Fiona. She reacted as expected, horrified that confidential files were to be examined by complete strangers. The fact that the strangers were police investigating a murder did not impress her. Helford suddenly remembered that she had first supposed the death to be a suicide.
He closed the door of her office and quietly asked her who she thought might have committed the murder. She stared at him, then at Dean, and exploded: "Nobody! At least, nobody connected with the Council! The idea is ridiculous. You won't find anything in those files to help you - you're wasting your time. Every one of our staff has been interviewed by an experienced panel, and references are taken up most carefully. We are scrupulous!" She drew herself up to her full height, as if to intimidate the officer by looking down on him from an extra inch and a half.
The personnel files were duly removed under her eagle eye, after she counted them and made Helford sign a receipt. He was only taking them to the next room, but he thought it best to humour her. He passed half the files to Dean and they got to work.
The file on James Goswell was one of the thinnest, probably because he was quite new. His references were from a major steel company, where he had been a 'senior executive', and a government department, where he had held a managerial position. It was all bland, and the references were formulaic in their wording. Some questions were asked by the Council, such as 'suitability for the position described', and again the answers were positive but impersonal. Helford looked at the CV, and jotted down some other jobs earlier in the career path. He closed the file and tried Fiona's. He found nothing of interest in any files, and asked Dean: "Have you got Gerald Chewter's file there?"
Dean checked the two files he had not yet looked at, and said, "No." Helford got up, irritated at himself for not checking at the start. He went back to Fiona's office. "I don't see Mr Chewter's file," he said briskly.
She looked up impatiently from her work. "You didn't say you wanted ex-employees - they're filed in the archives downstairs." She sounded faintly smug, knowing that the basement was out of bounds to the staff today.
"Which room?" Helford asked, annoyed.
"The one on the left at the bottom of the stairs."
"Do you have the key?"
She pulled open a drawer, and took out a large bunch of keys. The action reminded Helford that he had to find out more about keyholders, especially the puzzle of James Goswell's missing basement keys.
Fiona was trying to take just one key off the fob, but the Inspector asked her for the whole bunch. She gave him a furious look, and protested that she would need them back immediately, though she gave no reason. Helford told her that he needed a complete set to compare all the other sets, and asked her to identify each key in turn. With a very bad grace she got out a sheet of sticky labels and wrote one for each key, then attached them awkwardly to the keys. She was an efficient woman, but so prickly that the Inspector was beginning to wonder why it wasn't her body in the basement. He told her that later today he would appreciate a complete set of keys for the use of the police until the investigation was finished. She begrudgingly said that she would get a set copied, as long as the police paid. "More paperwork," she muttered.
Armed with the keys he set off for downstairs again, and exchanged a few words with the officers working in the tunnel area. He admired the scene-of-crime boys, as they had a grisly job in many cases. The responsibility was huge, knowing that a case could be won or lost on the integrity of the evidence they found and preserved. He left them working on the final clearing of the site where the last two bodies had been found. Every scrap they found there in the dark tunnel could be vital.
In the other archive room, metal filing cabinets jostled for space with old wooden cupboards and cardboard boxes. There were no dark corners, and he easily found the cabinet marked 'Personnel'. He found the correct label on one of Fiona's keys, opened the cabinet, and searched in vain for Chewter's name among the tatty old folders. He checked all the others, and was bemused - they all dated back at least a decade, except for one - the deceased Parish Clerk before Chewter. Surely someone had left their job in the last ten years? He took the dead Clerk's file, and locked the cabinet and the room.
Upstairs he got out the sandwiches his wife had left in the fridge for him the night before. He always got hungry too early, and often bought a second lunch by one o'clock. Opening the file, he quickly scanned the basic information and looked at the pages detailing the man's previous jobs and qualifications. 'Interesting,' he mused. He closed the file and went to the accounts room.
"Mrs Coulthard," he began, with one eye on James in the corner.
She smiled and waited. James asked, "Do you want me to leave the room, Inspector?"
"Er, yes please, I need a word in private." James removed himself and closed the door after him.
"Miss Carvell said I would find the file on Mr Chewter in one of the archive rooms downstairs. You did tell me that Fiona Carvell had them in her room, isn't that right?"
She looked puzzled. "I don't understand - they are all in her room, I'm sure of it. Even the ex-employees - I had to check one some weeks back, about someone's tax record. Maybe some really old ones might be downstairs, but - Mr Chewter left less than a year ago."
"I looked through the file of ex-employees, and found the Clerk before Chewter, but not his file. Odd, don't you think?"
She looked confused. "That's ridiculous! It must be somewhere. I had to close the file myself - with the final salary details - and I know I left it in order!"
"I need to find that file. Please let me know if you have any other ideas about where it could be," he requested. He left the accounts office and arranged to have the filing cabinet in the basement checked for fingerprints. Then he gave instructions for all the staff to have their fingerprints taken. "That should be interesting," he smiled to Dean.
Meanwhile back in the accounts office, Kim was taking advantage of the absence of James Goswell to do something that had been long overdue. She had access to his diary on her computer, and guessing that Paula still had not asked him about that phone call on the day of the Council meeting, she decided to take matters into her own hands. She clicked back to the correct day and saw that he had meetings all morning with various Councillors - last minute details for the big meeting that evening, no doubt. It was the afternoon, however, that mattered. Nothing was written in. She determined to ask Fiona.
Fiona was in her office, poring over paperwork. She looked up in irritation at the interruption. Kim, however, knew the best way to get round Fiona.
"I need your help, I'm afraid - you are the only person who would know the answer," she began. Fiona softened visibly. Kim continued: "You remember the day of the big Council meeting - the day the Development was voted in?"
"Yes, of course," the other woman replied.
"I just need to know if Mr Goswell worked on the Finance Committee agenda that day, or was that the day he was out all afternoon?"
The ploy worked. Fiona seemed unsuspicious, and scrabbled about in her d
esk drawer for her personal diary. She had a record of exactly what her boss had done - or should have done - that day. "He had meetings with Councillors all morning, then he was out at lunch time," she began. Kim knew just where he was lunchtime, so that was no surprise. "Then Councillor Denby came in, but James, er, Mr Goswell, was still not back in. I had to insist he check over the agenda for the Tourism meeting in the afternoon, but Councillor Massington came by at about two-thirty. He was in with him for a while, and then at about four he gave me the agenda. It was too late for the post run, I only just had time to get it copied to take to the post myself. I don't have any notes on what he did after four."
"Thank you, Fiona," said Kim graciously. "I expect it was then he started work on the Finance agenda. It's a big one."
Fiona was turning the page to check the next day's entries, so Kim fled before she could reel off any details, or wonder why Kim needed to know. Kim went back to her office, lost in thought. If James had been free before two-thirty, he could have made the call. Certainly not when Councillor Massington was there. Maybe after? By four, the school day would be over. She would have to ask Paula to pin down the time. Of course, if Sue had been here she would have thought of that before going in to Fiona's office. Sue had a very inquisitive mind when there was a mystery to be solved. The biggest mystery was how Sue had exercised enough self-control to leave Paula in peace this long! Heaven knows what would happen once Sue got back and heard the latest news. That active brain of hers would be doing overtime, and the police would find themselves pestered with questions.