Three Steps to Hell (7 page)

“I’m so sorry Sergeant, Jasper behave.” Jackie said sternly. Her instruction had little effect.

“Jasper I hope you’re being friendly,” came a well-educated female voice from the kitchen. A slight Spanish accent was detectable but only just. Jackie got Jasper under control and both men walked into the immense kitchen, a large farmhouse table capable of seating about 10 people situated in the centre of the room. Mrs Peterson got up from her seat at the table, walked towards them and introduced herself. Tom looked up and saw what, in his eyes, was possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. When younger, if Tom caught sight of a beautiful and voluptuous woman, his ex-wife Helen would always notice the look on his face and say, “Tom for God’s sake put your tongue away.” Well, Tom hadn’t felt like this for a long time, but this was a moment when he felt his tongue had dropped out of his mouth onto the floor and his eyeballs had popped out of his head, spinning round with hearts as pupils, like a cartoon character. Mrs Peterson walked towards him and put her hand out to shake hands. Tom was totally staggered by her beauty and femininity. He wanted to take hold of her hand, kiss it gently and find an excuse never to let go.

“So you are the famous Mr Lancaster that Superintendent Davies speaks so highly of! I am so grateful to you for coming.”

They shook hands. Tom noticed her finely manicured hands and long perfectly shaped and polished finger nails. Her hand was warm and soft and Tom was experiencing feelings that he was unfamiliar with and a little nervous of.

Tom wanted to say, “Wow, you are a stunning, gorgeous, sexy woman” and was worried as to whether any semi-coherent words would even come out of his mouth. He gathered his composure, and said,

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mrs Peterson, I just hope we can help you.”

He introduced Dave Sweeting and they were invited to sit at the table. Mrs Peterson sat in the carver chair at the top of the table, Tom and Sweetface sat next to each other to her left. It was obvious by his mesmerised grin that Sweetface was also taken by her appearance and beauty.

Maria Peterson was indeed a very beautiful woman. 46 years old but with the looks and slim curvaceous hourglass figure of a 35 year old. She stood about five feet seven inches tall, wore an expensive looking satin blouse, the top buttons opened sufficiently to boastingly show the top of her ample, shapely and bronzed cleavage. Casual trousers and stiletto heeled patent ankle boots. One strand of pearls, finely cut and shaped, adorned her beautiful slender neck. She had a perfect smooth doll-like olive complexion and thick black shiny hair pulled back into a long curly ponytail, which appeared to extend to half way down her back. Her face, chin and neck were stunningly toned with high cheekbones and flawless model like makeup. Her eyes fascinated Tom and his gaze alternated between her full soft voluptuous glossy lips, which seemed to glide bewitchingly as she spoke, and the smooth tanned cleavage trying to escape from within her blouse with every breath. He found himself having very sexy thoughts. It had been a long time since he had experienced such an overwhelming attraction to a woman.

Tom was a man who always liked to be and tried to feel, totally in control. However, the feeling of such immense attraction and sexual interest was something that he thought had died within him some time ago. He felt uneasy with such newly discovered sentiments. Since his divorce from Helen, he had buried himself entirely in his work showing little interest in any sort of female relationship. Like a majority of men, he liked to cast an interested glance at a beautiful woman in the hope that the compliment would be returned but mentally felt that he was past being of interest to anyone. This was one part of his judgement that had totally let him down, he was a very handsome and popular man with a pleasant and kind nature. Many single and divorced women who worked within Brampton Police Station had desires to get to know him better and spend some private quality time with him. To them, too often, he seemed stand-offish and totally disinterested due to his preoccupation with work. He had been and still was very much in love with Helen but knew that it was a Chapter of his life that was closed forever. She was now very happily re-married and barely kept in touch except for matters relating to the children. He had met Helen when they were both 18 and they were married at 21. Their relationship/marriage over 25 years had produced two fine children. Sam (short for Samantha), now 18 years old, still at school, just finishing ‘A’ levels and Jake, now 20 who had a Junior Consultants job with a marketing company of which his stepfather was Operations Director. He rarely saw them as he didn’t like to interfere. Their stepfather was a good man and treated them well so he thought it best to take a back seat and watch their progress from a distance. Something which suited both Helen and her new husband. Tom wished he could have kept his family together, he was so proud of his children but due to the demands on his time and emotions the police force had ruined any prospect of the marriage surviving. Helen had simply had enough of coping totally on her own and only seeing her husband when the job permitted, which was a rarity.

Mrs Peterson sighed, “Right, gentlemen.” She spoke as if commencing a board meeting, “How do you take your coffee?”

Tom’s imagination ran wild again. In bed naked next to you, he thought to himself.

Both asked for black with two sugars. Jasper was anxiously sniffing Tom’s legs and putting his front paws up onto his lap looking for attention.

“Jackie did you get that?”

“Yes Mrs P, kettle’s on.”

“When you’ve made the coffee perhaps you could take Jasper for a long walk as he’s being a bit of a nuisance and won’t leave poor Mr Lancaster alone.”

“Please call me Tom. He’s a fine specimen Mrs Peterson, I have a black Labrador myself called Misty, they make wonderful companions don’t they?”

“Yes Tom, but he’s a little boisterous for my liking at times. Now, how am I going to find my husband Tom? I need to know he’s okay. I have been worried sick, I’m on sleeping pills, my life is a mass of worry. I’m so concerned that something awful has happened to him, he always stays in touch when he goes away.” Tom detected a slight distressed tremble in her voice.

Dave Sweeting, also smitten by her looks, softness and femininity, had been studying her demeanour and his first impression was that she appeared very composed for someone who was desperately worried about her husband’s well being. But then, he thought to himself, it has been three days, she is a business woman, busy keeping everything going in his absence and probably very composed in all matters including those of the heart. He had also detected the slight tremor in her voice.

Tom endeavoured to put all carnal contemplations to the back of his mind and said,

“I know you have already been through all the details relating to Mr Peterson’s disappearance with Sergeant Atkins but we need to go through it all again in considerable detail Mrs Peterson. I don’t want to distress you but I will also need to ask you very personal questions relating to your marriage, I hope that’s okay with you?”

“It’s fine Tom, I need to know that he’s okay and find out what’s happened to him. You are the Detective, whatever you ask I will endeavour to answer truthfully and fully. As regards our marriage, it’s common knowledge amongst our friends that it‘s not perfect, but whose is these days?”

After about an hour and a half both Detectives had listened in great detail to the full circumstances surrounding Colin Peterson’s disappearance. They had made many notes relating to his description, identifying marks and scars, habits, clothing, favourite bars and restaurants and details of the personal belongings he had with him the morning he left. They obtained full details of his car and financial and communication facilities such as bank accounts, savings accounts, credit cards, mobile phone, e-mail addresses etc. All this coupled with details of his Doctor, Dentist, Solicitor and close business associates would allow Tom to fully circulate details of his disappearance to the many institutions and individuals who could help monitor any activity on his personal accounts, mobile phone or e-mail or report any personal contact.

Maria Peterson had described her husband as a fairly ruthless entrepreneur who had, over the years, made a small fortune buying up derelict property in and around London, having it totally renovated and placing it back on the market to produce ludicrously high profits. A man of 51, five feet ten inches and stockily built who kept himself in peak physical condition with a strict regime of gym visits during the week. He liked to dress in stylish fashion, Italian tailor made suits and handmade shoes being his favourites. Neatly cut short receding grey hair, clean shaven with mean, harsh brown eyes and a constantly angered expression is how his wife had described him. A strange description from a loving wife! Mrs Peterson had given an interesting overview of his life. A serious man with few close friends, he went to school in a London suburb and his parents had raised him as best they could in a squalid council flat on an estate, which, in his teenage years, was terrorised by gangs, crime and racial discontent. After leaving school at 16 he worked for numerous dubious London car dealers during which time he developed an appetite for quick and easy profit and powerful, expensive and extravagant motorcars. He discovered how money and image could change his life so dramatically. He always had something to sell and making a profit on absolutely anything is what made him smile and drove him forward. As a young man a keen interest in cars, both modern and classic, a fast growing interest in antiques and fine art and the realisation of the profitability of property renovation led him to eventually building and developing considerable wealth and successful businesses with vast turnovers.

Due to his ruthless and suspicious nature in business his close friends were few. Peterson owned a large fine art/antiques shop in Gloucestershire and a similar but smaller outlet in Brighton on the Sussex coast. Both were managed for him on a day to day basis by business partners he had been involved with all his working life and with whom he had been friends at school. She claimed they knew him better than she did. Mrs Peterson and Sergeant Atkins had already been in touch with both of them. Neither could help with any idea of his whereabouts or the location of his intended business meeting. Sergeant Atkins’ notes revealed that both had appeared very genuinely and deeply concerned for his safety, as to be uncontactable for more than a day was, for him, very uncharacteristic.

Mrs Peterson described how, in his dealings within the fine art/antiques business, her husband would regularly meet complete strangers in hotels around the country to view or buy expensive works of art or antiques. These were people who insisted on complete one to one confidentiality for personal, tax or other reasons.

Her husband’s stance was not to ask too many personal questions of vendors. As long as he was as happy as he could be that the article was neither fake nor stolen then he was disinterested in the reason for the sale or the wealth or background of the vendor. He would just buy it cheap and sell it at a vast mark up whenever possible. Many of his sales were also conducted in a similarly secretive fashion.

They also jointly owned a small house clearance and transport business. This was something which Mrs Peterson predominately ran and organised on her own. It specialised in both the removal and delivery of antique items in the UK and Europe as an aside to the fine art/antiques business. Also house clearance and transport to auction of household goods mainly in probate cases with storage facilities within the old farm buildings on the estate. They only directly employed two drivers for the two lorries the business ran and employed others through agencies as and when needed. Other business interests revolved around property. They jointly owned other houses in the UK and Spain, all of which were rented out. Rental companies managed all this on their behalf and they had no day to day need to be involved other than to accumulate healthy profits. Both his and her parents were deceased and neither had brothers nor sisters.

Colin Peterson had an office in the house adjacent to the main sitting room. Both also shared an office within one of the converted barns where Mrs Peterson worked on a day to day basis. According to her, this was predominantly her domain.

All business interests were in their joint names. She claimed to have little to do with running the fine art/antiques business, putting most of her time into transport and shipping. She also enjoyed playing with the property market.

“Colin and I make good partners in business Tom. That’s why our marriage survives so well even though things in the bedroom aren’t quite so successful.”

“I noticed quite a few cars parked down by the farm buildings when we drove in Mrs Peterson, do these belong to employees?” Sweetface enquired.

“One or two. We rent part of one of the converted barns to a small computer software company. They employ a handful of people and have nothing to do with any of our businesses. They are merely tenants.”

On Mrs Peterson’s request Jackie had returned to the kitchen to make more coffee.

Maria Peterson had provided both Officers with a substantial amount of personal information. She was starting to tire of the whole procedure but it wasn’t an emotion she wanted to show in case either Detective misread it as a lack of interest in quickly tracing her beloved husband.

“Do you mind if DC Sweeting has a cursory look in your husband’s office to see if there is anything which might suggest where he may have been going that morning?”

Mrs Peterson sighed, a scowl appeared on her face. She seemed a little uncomfortable with the request.

“Is it really necessary Tom, only Sgt Atkins and I have already done that and I know he would hate someone going through his private business papers? He is a very very private man. Believe me I have looked several times, there is nothing.”

“Only a cursory look Mrs Peterson, from a Detective’s perspective, just a couple of minutes.”