The Body in the River (13 page)

‘
Mr Fleming is very busy, sir, I
’
m not sure he has the time to see you.
’

Brookes gave him a hard look.
‘
This isn
’
t some bloody game we
’
re playing, man. Any more argument and you
’
ll find yourself being frog-marched down to the station on a charge of obstructing police. Now, pick up the damned phone and tell him we
’
re here.
’

Brown picked up the telephone receiver and dialled a two-digit number. There was a moment
’
s pause.

Then he said,
‘
Mr Fleming, there are two policemen here to see you.
’

There was another pause, then, giving Brookes a disapproving glance, he said into the phone,

‘
Yes, sir, I
’
ve told them that but they insist on seeing you.
’

He put the receiver down and looked up at Brookes.
‘
He
’
ll be out in a moment, Superintendent.
’

After a few seconds, a door in the rear mirrored wall opened and Fleming appeared. He was tall and slim, about forty years of age and deeply tanned. His attire reflected the casual elegance of Savile Row. He wore a fawn suit, beige shirt, and brown tie. On his feet, he wore a pair of soft leather tan shoes that no doubt cost more than the average working man
’
s weekly wage.

He stalked across the office and stopped with his face within a foot of Brookes
’
.
‘
This is not a police state yet, Detective. I
’
m sure your superiors will have something to say about your demand to see me without notice.
’

Brookes looked him in the eye and said, in an even tone,
‘
My name is Brookes, sir. Detective Superintendent Brookes, and this is Detective Sergeant Middlemiss, who I think you have already met. My senior officer is Commander Mclean, whose office is at Leman Street. I have his phone number if you wish to speak to him.
’

Fleming stood for a moment without replying, his attempt at bullying not having worked. Eventually he said, testily,
‘
You are here now, what is it you want?
’

Middlemiss smiled to himself and thought,
Fifteen
–
love to the boss
.

Brookes said,
‘
I need to ask you some questions about the death of one of your employees, Mr Fleming. Would you like me to conduct the interview here or in private?
’

‘
You had better come into my office; you have ten minutes.
’

Not giving an inch, Brookes said,
‘
I may need more time than that, sir; perhaps you would like to re-arrange your other appointments before we start?
’

Fleming made no reply but led the way to his office, his face red with rage. Middlemiss noticed amused smiles from the women at the desks. He
’
d no doubt they had enjoyed seeing Fleming brought down to size.

The office was furnished in similar style to the general office, except that the carpet pile was thicker, the desk larger and the seats covered in tan leather. Fleming sat behind the desk and nodded to two other upright chairs opposite.

He said,
‘
I
’
m very sorry about the death of Alison, of course, she was a good employee. But I don
’
t see how I can help you with your enquiry.
’
His accent was a strange mixture of English public school and Michael Holding, the West Indian cricketer.

Brookes said,
‘
I understand that all of your staff worked the whole day on Saturday, is that normal in your business?
’

‘
What could that possibly have to do with her death?
’

‘
It
’
s customary that police ask the questions in situations such as this, sir. Perhaps you would be kind enough to answer them.
’

‘
Because we are busy, why do you think?
’
Fleming almost snarled.

‘
What exactly is your business, Mr Fleming?
’

‘
What does it look like, we make washing machines.
’

‘
Very droll, sir. Why don
’
t you simply answer the questions, then we won
’
t take up too much of your valuable time. Alternatively, we can all go down to the station and conduct the interview there.
’

Fleming looked at Brookes, trying to see if he was serious; Brookes
’
face was impassive.

Thirty
–
love
, thought Middlemiss; the boss had him firmly on the back foot.

‘
We sell holidays, Superintendent, holidays that I doubt you could afford.
’

‘
Really, sir; I suppose you use the best hotels, do you?
’

‘
The rich generally prefer somewhere more private, we hardly use any hotels. Surely you noticed the photographs in the office. And the name of our company should give even you a clue. Most of our accommodations are private villas and homes.
’

‘
And who owns those villas and homes, sir?
’

Fleming
’
s eyes flickered.
‘
Other rich people, of course.
’
A film of sweat had appeared on his face; he rubbed at it with his right hand, revealing the plaster on its back.

Brookes said,
‘
I see that you have hurt yourself, sir; nothing serious I hope.
’

Fleming quickly withdrew his hand from sight.
‘
No, I was tinkering with my car, it
’
s just a scratch.
’
This time he used his left hand to ease his shirt collar away from his neck.

‘
I assume you have a list of the owners of the villas you use, sir?
’

‘
That is private information; you have no right to ask for that.
’

‘
I think you
’
ll find that in a murder enquiry, I do have a right, sir. If you won
’
t voluntarily give me the information, I can quickly get a court order enforcing my request.
’

‘
Listen, Superintendent, everything about my business is legitimate, but the rich like their privacy, can
’
t you see that?
’

‘
What I can see most clearly, Mr Fleming, is that a young woman has been brutally murdered. Any small inconvenience other people are put to in order to identify her killer is hardly an issue. Now, will you tell me who owns the property you rent to holidaymakers?
’

‘
Not without consulting my solicitor, no.
’

Brookes smiled.
‘
That might be a wise move on your part, sir; it could save you a lot of hassle.
’
Then he abruptly changed the subject.
‘
What kind of car do you drive, Mr Fleming?
’

‘
A BMW, but what has that got to do with your enquiry?
’

‘
Were you driving it on Saturday evening, sir?
’

‘
No, I was at home on Saturday evening.
’
The sweat was now beginning to pour down his face; he took out a handkerchief and mopped at it. Realising that he was revealing the plaster on his hand again, he quickly withdrew it.
‘
Why are you asking these questions? I had nothing to do with Alison
’
s death.
’

‘
How did you get from the office to your home?
’

‘
In my car, of course.
’

‘
So you were driving it on Saturday evening after all.
’

Fleming shouted,
‘
Only to get home in, then it was in my garage!
’

Brookes
’
voice remained calm.
‘
Can anyone verify your movements on Saturday evening, sir?
’

‘
Why should they have to, I
’
ve done nothing wrong.
’

‘
Should I take that as a no, sir?
’

Fleming made a visible effort to control his temper. He said through his teeth;
‘
I live alone, Superintendent. I left here just after six, drove to my home, and put the car in the garage. It was there for the rest of the night.
’

‘
How well did you know Alison MacPherson, sir?
’

‘
She was an employee, I saw her in the office each day, that
’
s all.
’

‘
Did you never socialise with her, sir?
’

‘
No of course not, she was an employee.
’

‘
How did you get on with her, sir?
’

‘
I get on with all my employees.
’

‘
But you don
’
t socialise with them?
’

‘
I
’
ve told you, no.
’

‘
So you never visited Alison
’
s home?
’

‘
Do you want me to write it down for you? I
’
ve said no.
’

‘
No, that
’
s all right, sir, DS Middlemiss is writing everything down. Where
do
you socialise, Mr Fleming?
’

‘
That is no business of yours.
’

‘
Perhaps I should remind you, sir; the reason that my sergeant is recording this conversation is that it might subsequently be used in court. Juries do not take kindly to evasive answers.
’

Fleming looked shocked.
‘
What do you mean, in court? You have nothing on me; I had nothing to do with Alison
’
s death.
’

‘
Then it is in your interests to co-operate with us, Mr Fleming. I
’
ll ask again, where do you socialise?
’

‘
I have friends in the West End; I visit one or two restaurants and nightclubs occasionally.
’

‘
What about the East End, sir, do you visit any of the clubs there?
’

‘
No, I don
’
t.
’

‘
What about sex, sir, where do you satisfy your sexual appetites?
’

‘
How dare you ask that?
’

‘
What about The Venus Club in Shoreditch High Street, sir, do you ever go there?
’
he asked, referring to the club Silver ran his business from.

‘
No, I don
’
t even know where you mean.
’

‘
Really, sir, so you never phone there?
’

‘
No, I
’
ve told you. No.
’

‘
Does anyone else drive your car, sir?
’

‘
No, of course not.
’

‘
What about your mobile phone, sir, does anyone else ever use that?
’

‘
Of course not, I have it with me at all times.
’

Brookes pounced;
‘
Eight calls to The Venus Club in the last month, sir, and you don
’
t know the place and have never been there. How do you explain that?
’