The Crime Trade

32

Bernard Stanbury worked as an accountant for a civil engineering firm in Winchmore Hill, a short commute from his Barnet home. At just after ten o’clock that morning, Tina Boyd walked into the firm’s cheaply decorated reception area and asked the woman manning the switchboard — the only person in the room — if she could speak to him.

‘And whom shall I say is calling?’ asked the receptionist in a comically affected voice as she looked Tina up and down with barely concealed suspicion. ‘I don’t seem to have anything in the appointments book. If you’re here to sell anything-’

‘Police,’ said Tina with a polite smile, removing her warrant card.

‘Oh,’ the woman said with interest, pausing to hear if there was any further explanation.

There wasn’t. Tina simply stared at her, waiting, the smile remaining fixed on her face.

The receptionist got the hint and called Stanbury’s number. ‘The police are here to see you, Bernard,’ she said in hushed, conspiratorial tones. ‘Amiss. .?’

‘Boyd. Detective Sergeant Boyd.’

A few seconds later and she was off the phone. ‘Mr Stanbury’s office is through those double doors, the second one on the left.’

‘Thank you.’

Tina put the warrant card back in her jacket pocket and walked through the double doors. Almost immediately, the second door on the left opened and a smallish man of about forty-five with nondescript glasses and an even more non-descript face stepped out. His expression was a combination of anxious and annoyed.

‘Come in, come in.’ He ushered her into his small and surprisingly untidy office, swiftly shutting the door behind her. ‘What’s the problem?’ he demanded, returning to his seat, without shaking hands.

Tina smiled and took the seat opposite him, on the other side of the desk. ‘I’m DS Boyd. We spoke on the phone yesterday regarding your stolen credit card.’ She put out a hand and he took it reluctantly, blinking behind the glasses and avoiding her eyes.

‘I know,’ he said, ‘and I answered everything you asked. There’s nothing more I can add, and it was a long time ago. I’m also very busy.’

Tina fixed him with a calm but unflinching gaze. ‘It’s possible, in fact very likely, that the person who stole your credit card has been involved in a double murder.’ Not strictly true, of course — it was still a fairly remote possibility — but there was no point letting Stanbury know that.

‘Oh God, no. .’ The words came out like a strangled gasp, and he put his head in his hands.

Tina pressed her advantage. ‘The card was stolen from your house while you were away. The thief gained entry through an unlocked window on the first floor. Two hundred pounds in cash was stolen, as well as your credit card. Nothing else. According to the crime scene report, the burglar didn’t leave much of a mess. Why didn’t you take your card with you when you went away?’

Stanbury took his head out of his hands. He still looked distraught but was desperately trying to control it. ‘I’ve got another credit card. I took that one instead.’

‘Let me level with you, Mr Stanbury. I know that you have money problems. I also know that you owed several thousand pounds on the card you took with you on your trip last August, and that you owed very little on the one that was left behind, the one that was stolen. That’s strange in itself. Even more strange is that you leave your card lying around at home with a window unlocked when you’re going away for three days. I think what happened is you told someone where your card was and that they stole it and used it with your full knowledge. Presumably they paid you for the privilege. It happens a lot, I’m sad to say.’

‘It’s not like that, honestly. I didn’t-’

‘Frankly, I’m not interested in whether you’ve been involved in anything illegal. And neither will any of my colleagues be. We’re far more interested in catching a brutal killer. So, who used your card while you were away?’

‘Listen, I had nothing to do with any killings. I swear. I’m not like that. Oh God, why the hell did I ever get involved? This is going to ruin me, you know. What’ll my wife say? The kids?’

‘It’s possible that no-one’ll have to know,’ Tina lied, knowing that if they were on the right track she’d never be able to keep it quiet. ‘Now, who was it?’

Stanbury removed his glasses and rubbed his hands across his face. ‘It’s a neighbour of mine. He’s a friendly enough chap and I’ve known him a while, but, to be honest, I wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of him.’

‘If he’s done what we think he has, then he won’t be a threat to anyone. He’ll be behind bars, probably for the next thirty years.’

‘I was broke, you know, really suffering. He paid me three hundred pounds to let him have the card while I was away. He said it was foolproof. No-one would ever know. He even told me to claim for stolen cash as well on the house insurance. God, why did I get involved? I’m a respectable man, I promise. I’ve never done anything wrong before.’ He gave her a pleading look, desperate for her to believe him.

Tina gave him a reassuring smile. ‘This neighbour of yours. What car does he drive?’

‘Why do you ask that?’

‘Just answer the question, Mr Stanbury.’

‘A Megane,’ he said. ‘A black Renault Megane.’