Chapter 14 - More Questions Than Answers
Dean knew his boss was frustrated, so he quietly got on with the job in hand. It was easy to find out who had delivered what and when, but checking if they had been driving leaking vans was more difficult. "He's on the road, I'll have to call you back tomorrow," was the refrain.
Messages were left, and Dean suddenly realised he was very hungry. He found Helford in the staff rest room, eating a Danish pastry. "Come and eat," said his boss. "They've had all this food brought in for us from Lacey's. Nice, eh?"
On the main table was a tray of sandwiches and cakes, so Dean gratefully sat down and tucked in. "Shall I send some down to the others?" he asked. Helford replied, "Already done - this is for us."
"You're kidding! How much did this lot cost?"
Helford shrugged. "On the Council budget, I suppose. A perfectly reasonable way of spending your council tax, wouldn't you say? Don't complain, we'll probably need it. I can't see us leaving here too early. I'm finished, so I'll go and sit in our luxurious command centre in case any calls come in. You have a break. Well done, by the way, for finding the bullet casing - it's all we have at the moment to tie the killers to the victim."
"Killers....we've both been assuming more than one. Because he was a heavy man, I suppose. Do you think one person could have shifted him?"
"Unlikely. Certainly not a woman. Not alone, anyway." Helford realised he had temporarily abandoned his line of enquiry on Anya Dortmann.
Back in the Clerk's office Helford shut the door, and started a series of phone calls. The first was useful in a negative way - Anya Dortmann's flatmate confirmed that she had left the country a week ago, to start her new job in Portugal. "She'll be staying back here in a fortnight, though, she's got a family wedding so she asked if she could just come back to England for a couple of days." Helford told the girl sternly that Anya was to contact the local police as soon as she arrived. He took some details and ended the call. He would have to check with the airline, but it looked as if Anya was out of the country when Chewter died.
He flipped back through his notebook, and found the notes on James Goswell. He picked up the phone and dialled the number of company listed the earliest in James' CV. "Human Resources, please," he told the charming voice that answered. He got through, but when he gave his name and job title, he was told that the department manager was at lunch. "That's all right, I'm sure you can help me," he said sweetly. He had been hoping to get a junior. "If you can just check the dates when a certain employee started and finished, that's all. You have that information?"
"Well..." the voice hesitated. "I can check, but I'm not sure...you know, Data Protection and all that."
"Quite right - I tell you what, I'll read out to you what I have, and you can tell me if it agrees with what you have. OK?"
He ploughed on, and read the information to the nervous junior. The voice sounded female, but it could have been a squeaky young man. There was a scribbling sound, then lots of clicking, and finally the ambiguous voice spoke again. "I can't find a James Goswell, are you sure you've got the name right?"
After making suitable excuses Helford rang off, and tried the second most recent job from the CV. This time a sleek female voice answered the phone in Human Resources, and when she was told that the police were making the enquiry, she promised full co-operation. However, she too could find no trace of a James Goswell. Her curiosity was aroused, and she wanted to know what job he had done, and who he had worked for, but Helford had no intention of giving her any details. Her curiosity went unsatisfied, and her silky voice bid him a regretful and apologetic farewell.
Finally he rang the most recent job listed. The steel company was a huge concern, but as James was supposed to have been a 'senior executive', whatever that might mean, he should be known to the people at the head office. He got through to a call menu, which invited him to select all sorts of options, none of which was 'to track down dodgy employees, press 8'. He waited, which meant that a human being had to answer his call.
"Hi, can you put me through to James Goswell? He does still work there, doesn't he?" he cheerily asked in what he hoped sounded like a golfing buddy voice.
"Pardon? James who did you say?" the young man replied.
"Goswell! James, you know, one of your senior execs., we're supposed to be having a round of golf but I'm running late, thought I'd better let him know. He is still with you lot, isn't he?"
The poor youngster on the end of the phone was mystified. "I'm sorry, I don't have anyone of that name listed in the directory."
"Oh, you must know him, tall, good-looking chap, he was there a few months back - have you only just started there?"
"No, I've been here a year, and I honestly don't know who that is. Sorry."
Helford rang off. How could the Council have checked a reference if Goswell had never worked there? He redialled the same number, and in a different, more sombre voice asked for Human Resources. A lady answered, and when he asked for details on James Goswell, she said: "James Goswell? Oh! yes, um, could you hold on a moment please?"
There was a pause, then a man's voice came on the line. "Hello, I'm Richard Prewett, head of HR. Can I help you?"
Helford said "I'm calling from Pebbleton Parish Council offices, where Mr James Goswell is currently working as Parish Clerk. Could you please confirm that he was until recently in the employment of your company?"
"Yes, that is correct."
"As a senior executive in your Head Office, from 2004 until six months ago?"
"Yes, that is correct," Mr Prewett repeated, without hesitation.
"My name is Detective Inspector Keith Helford, and I am investigating a suspicious death in the Council building. I would appreciate it if you could explain to me why your Head Office employees in general have never heard of James Goswell."
There was dead silence at the end of the line. Finally, Mr Prewett sighed, and said "You had better take that up with Mr Goswell himself. I'm sorry, I cannot help you further. I - er - we are aware of Mr Goswell, and he - look, I can't say any more without speaking with my superiors, so if you have any further questions after speaking to Mr Goswell, you had better address them to the Board of Directors."
The line went dead. Helford stared at the phone, and slowly replaced it on the cradle. He sat staring at his notes, deep in thought, until Dean opened the door and made him jump.
"Good news, sir, they've found a button on the roadway at the back!"
"A button. Heaven be praised. The crime is practically solved."
Dean was used to his boss's sarcasm, so he ignored this and continued: "It can't have been there long, sir, it looks as if it's freshly torn off, and it's unusual. Forensics say you can sometimes get manufacturers details and narrow it down to just a few garments that had that type of button sewn on in the last few years."
Helford rubbed his forehead. "OK, Dean, I'm sorry. It could be useful, you're right. Look, can you find James Goswell for me? I'll want you here too, I think I should interview him under caution."
Dean looked astounded. "What have you found out, sir?"
"I thought there was something odd about his CV, so I checked three of the companies. He's not been in any of them, and the last one lied at first until I told them I was CID. I mean really lied, supported his story, then backed down. Said I should ask him."
"Blimey! Why would they support his story? That's weird. I'll get him in, sir."
Two minutes later James Goswell entered the room and sat facing D.I.Helford on the wrong side of his own desk. Dean sat with his pencil poised, started the tape, and Helford cautioned the Clerk. The formal wording of the caution made most people go white, but James seemed impassive, as though he had been expecting this moment to come. He said nothing in response, and declined the offer of legal representation. The interview began.