Broken Dreams (20 page)

‘How do you know this?’

They both laughed. ‘We’re the police.’

‘And we were having a chat with a mutual acquaintance.’

The younger man made a show of flicking through his notes, looking for the name. ‘Mr Taylor. A local estate agent.’

‘We’ve met.’

The older man was back in charge. ‘So he told us. He said he was in a relationship with Mrs Murdoch.’

‘I think calling it a relationship might be over the top’ I said.

‘Don’t care. Either way, he was very keen to talk to us about Mr Murdoch’s business practices. He even coughed to a few indiscretions himself, which we might see our way to turning a blind eye to.’

‘Is that so?’

‘Indeed. He’s proving to be very forthcoming.’

‘Good for you.’

The older man leant forward. ‘It is good news for us, make no mistake about that. Your client is involved with some very naughty people. I can think of one property developer who’s making an absolute killing from compulsory purchases.’

‘Name?’

He laughed and shook his head. ‘I think we’re done here.’

‘I’ll find out’ I said.

He nodded to his colleague and they stood up. ‘Which would be your prerogative.’ They towered above me. ‘You need to choose your friends more carefully, Joe.’

Briggs was as rude as I remembered. As I sat in the reception area waiting for him to see me, I wondered why I was bothering. I leafed through the trade magazines in an attempt to distract myself before he beckoned me through to his office. I passed Briggs the photograph.

‘What’s this?’

‘I borrowed it’ I explained. ‘I had an uncle who went to sea. He’d have loved to see this, so I thought you might be the same.’ Leaning forwards, I pointed to the face I thought he’d be interested in. ‘I assume he’s a relative.’

Briggs examined it before placing it on his desk. ‘My brother.’

‘I thought you might want to show him.’

‘He’s dead.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t be. Happened years back.’ He picked the photograph back up and looked at it. He sat back in his chair, saying nothing. It was the first time he’d looked lost for words.

‘Are you from Hessle Road?’ I asked him.

‘Born there and hated the place. Couldn’t wait to get away. My dad couldn’t always find work. The thing was, if the trawler owners didn’t like you for whatever reason, they could stop you from working for months. I used to hate it when the trawlers came back in. The blokes on them would have loads of money on them and they thought it made them royalty around the area. If you were different, or wanted to do something different, you were marginalised. Nobody wanted to know you. Everything was geared towards the trawlers. If you’re part of the community, you’re fine. If you’re not, you might as well not exist.’

The venom in his voice surprised me.

‘I had no intention of following my dad and brother to sea’ he continued. ‘It was a horrible life. My mum never knew what money she’d have, or more likely not have. My dad hated it, too, but never managed to get out. He was dead set against my brother joining him, but a job was a job, even in those days.’

I changed the subject. ‘Lot of building work going on in the area now, though.’

‘Not before time. The house we lived in was a shithole; always damp and cold. We couldn’t afford any better, so we were stuck. I don’t mind telling you it’ll be a pleasure to knock some of those buildings down.’

‘I don’t suppose it’s to be sniffed at.’

‘Not at the moment.’

‘Did Jennifer get you the contracts?’

Briggs shook his head. ‘She introduced me to her husband, but that’s all.’

‘Handy, though?’

‘Of course it was useful. It’s how the world goes around.’

‘How’s he to work for?’

‘What’s it to you?’

‘I’m looking into his wife’s death.’

‘I told you I don’t need your help anymore.’

He stood up but I pressed on. I wasn’t finished. ‘Mr Murdoch has asked me to investigate his wife’s death.’

‘Keeps you in a job, I suppose.’

‘I assume the police have spoken to you?’

‘A couple of days ago. I’ve got nothing to hide. I’ve accounted for my movements and they’re happy with that.’ Briggs sat back. ‘Are you sure you’re on the right side?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘I’ve heard about how he does business.’

‘You said you worked for him.’

‘I work with him, not for him, but I wasn’t born yesterday. I’ve seen it all down the years. He’s nothing new. All mouth with little to back it up. Typical of the people involved with the local council.’

‘Are you saying he’s corrupt?’

‘I’m saying he knows how to play the game.’

‘Does it bother you?’

‘Not really. I know how it works and I just get on with it and mind my own business.’

The talk of corruption made me uneasy. ‘Have the police spoke to you about his business affairs?’

‘They’ve asked me all kinds of questions. If you ask me, they don’t like your client very much.’

I couldn’t disagree. ‘What have they said about him?’

‘Nothing specific, but then it’s not going to be, is it? They wanted to know what kind of relationship we had, what he was like. I didn’t really have much to tell them. I was busy with running my own business, and besides, I barely know him. We’ve worked together, but that’s it. Been at the same charity nights and what have you, but we’ve never really socialised together.’

He called his PA and asked for coffee. He didn’t offer me one.

‘What’s the crack with Jennifer?’ he asked.

‘The police investigation is ongoing.’

 His eyes narrowed. ‘And you don’t think your client did it?’

My client –
There was no backing out now. ‘No.’

‘They seemed pretty certain to me.’

I shrugged. ‘He tells me he didn’t do it. It’s good enough for me.’

‘I suppose if he’s paying, it would be.’

I watched him pour himself a coffee.

‘If he didn’t kill her, who did?’ said Briggs.

It was a good question. ‘I’m looking at a few things.’ I didn’t want to tell him how little I had to go on, though I’d certainly be talking to Taylor again in the near future.

He placed his mug down and looked at me. ‘She was my employee, and for all I’ve said about her, I do want her killer caught.’

‘It’s what we all want.’ I told him what I knew about Sonia Bray and his auditors.

Briggs considered the information. ‘I’m not surprised.’

‘No?’

He shook his head. ‘Sonia was a dependable employee, the kind you could rely on. I never really bought the fact she was stealing from me.’

‘Why sack her, then?’

‘Because it was easier.’ For once, Briggs looked ruffled and I knew I’d embarrassed him. ‘If I lost Jennifer, I might have lost the work her husband put my way.’

It wasn’t embarrassment. It was shame. He’d willingly sacked an employee who’d done nothing wrong. ‘You just let it drift?’

‘I did my best to stop it without saying anything. I took an interest in my books, made sure I wasn’t signing cheques without good reason, that kind of thing. I had the auditors come in more regularly, too.’

‘The auditor was involved with Jennifer.’

‘I didn’t know that.’

‘What are you going to do about Sonia?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You accused her of theft and sacked her.’

‘She’s got another job now.’

‘That’s not the point.’

Briggs shrugged. ‘What do you expect me to do?’

I stood up. I’d had enough of listening to him for one day. I put my coat on and turned back to him. ‘I’ll tell you what you’re going to do. You’re going to send her and a friend on a nice holiday. They’ll travel first class and have plenty of spending money on them. How’s that for starters?’

Briggs nodded. ‘I’ll think on it.’

‘Make sure you do.’ I walked to the door, thinking Briggs must really need the work Christopher Murdoch put his way, if he was prepared to accept the thieving. He called my name and I turned around.

‘Can I keep that photograph, please?’

I threw it towards him. It was only a copy.

I
nodded a greeting to Don as I walked into the office. He stopped what he was doing and removed his glasses.

‘I’ve been trying to find you’ he said.

I took my mobile out of my pocket. ‘No battery.’

‘Where have you been?’

‘Seeing Briggs.’

‘Briggs?’

I put the paperwork I’d gone through with him on my desk. I showed Don the original of the photograph I’d shown to Briggs. ‘I’d borrowed this from Maria Platt and I needed to see him.’

‘Briggs?’ asked Don, pointing at the photograph.

‘His brother.’

‘Right.’

He passed me it back and I pinned it onto the wall behind my desk. That way I wouldn’t forget to return it.

‘I told Briggs about his auditor’ I explained.

‘What did he say?’

‘I don’t think he cared, to be honest.’

‘Why not?'

I explained how he got some of his work.

Don shook his head. ‘At least it’s done. I didn’t particularly fancy talking to him about it.’

I laughed. ‘I told him about Sonia Bray as well. Told him he had to make it up to her.’

‘So far as you can make it up to her.’

‘Pretty much.’ Don asked what else I’d been doing.

I took a deep breath. ‘Christopher Murdoch.’

‘Murdoch?’

‘What?’

‘I thought you’d had your fill of him?’

‘Things change.’

Don stopped working. ‘Like?’

‘I want to finish this thing.’

‘Good.’

‘What?’

‘I said, good.’

‘I didn’t think you approved?’

‘I don’t approve of you throwing the towel in.’

I smiled and tried to not to show my pleasure. The attitude of the two Fraud Squad officers had convinced me to help Murdoch. Their attitude annoyed me. If they were prepared to talk to me in such a condescending manner, I was going to kick back and make things as awkward as possible for them. Debbie always said my pig headedness was my worst trait.

‘So what’s new?’ he asked.

I told him about the two officers.

‘Anybody I know?’

‘Don’t know, but I’ll find out when I talk to Coleman later. They wanted to know where Murdoch is but I wasn’t really in the mood to help them. They reckon they’ve got some new information on his activities.’

‘What kind of information?’

‘Steve Taylor, the estate agent guy. Sounds like he’s getting worried.’

‘What’s his story?’

‘Murdoch is leading some regeneration in the Hessle Road area and there are plenty of people who want a piece of the action. The police reckon Murdoch’s corrupt and involved over his head.’

‘Any proof?’

‘Don’t know.’

‘Kick backs?’

I nodded. ‘Compulsory purchases of buildings; that kind of thing.’

‘Talking about a lot of money. Can we find out what the project entails?’

I said I’d do my best. Google - the investigator’s best friend would be a good start.

He passed me a print-out. ‘In the meantime, take a look at this. Steve Taylor knocked his first wife about.’

‘Married more than once?’

‘Onto his second wife but that seems to be all but finished. Off the record, it sounds like he’s up to his old tricks. Police have been called to his address on a couple of occasions for disturbances of the peace, but no charges have ever been brought.’

It was interesting stuff. I didn’t trust or like the man.

‘Who do the police reckon have got their claws into Murdoch?’ Don asked.

‘They wouldn’t say. All they’d tell me was that there was a property dealer who was making some serious money from it all. He’s the man we need to talk to.’

‘You think this property developer might be involved in Jennifer Murdoch’s death?’

It was a big leap. ‘I bet they know something.’

‘Name?’

‘They wouldn’t tell me.’

Don made a note. ‘I’m sure we can find out.’ He stood up, walked over to my desk and picked up a piece of paper. ‘Let's get things straight, then.’

Ten minutes later we had most of the pertinent issues surrounding Jennifer Murdoch’s death written down. It was a tangled web, with Christopher Murdoch at its centre. We knew Terrence Briggs was involved with the building work on Murdoch’s projects and was now struggling for work. Although I’d made a note to take a closer look at his finances. I wanted to know how much work Jennifer Murdoch got him through her husband.  Beyond that we knew Steve Taylor was involved, as the police said they were prepared to overlook some of his indiscretions. I assumed his involvement came about when the properties were sold. He was also having an affair with Jennifer Murdoch and wanted more from her. A large question mark remained against Christopher Murdoch. His alibi was flimsy and he had financial difficulties his wife’s death would resolve. I only had his word he hadn’t killed her. On top of which, we needed to know the identity of the property developer.

I pinned the sheet of paper on the wall, next to the photograph and made us both a cup of coffee. As I drank, I thought about what I needed to do. I had to speak to Murdoch and I wanted to see what Taylor had to say for himself. I weighed up what leverage I could use to make him talk.

‘Where’s Sarah?’ I asked.

‘Working from home.’

‘Since when?’

‘Since today.’

The Internet filled the blanks in. Murdoch’s company, FutureVision Limited had a temporary exhibition space on The Boulevard, the former jewel of Hessle Road. The houses which lined the street were once home to the city’s rich and influential. Now, the area was dilapidated, packed with self-contained flats and shared houses. If any part of the city needed a shot in the arm, this was it.

After my visit from the police, I wanted to know more about the work Murdoch was doing here and take something back to Don. I hated myself for it, but I couldn’t walk away. Murdoch had involved me in something, and I was going to get to the bottom of it. Looking around, the exhibition was impressive; large blow-ups of artist’s impressions lined the walls. The thrust of the project was the building of new, eco-friendly housing, complimented by the refurbishment of the older houses in the immediate area.