Chapter 6

Arnold Hutchinson was a man in his early 70s, wearing a three-piece pinstriped suit and with a mane of grey hair that might not have been his own.

A smartly dressed young lady entered his large, opulent office with a tray of tea. ‘That’s May. She’ll be my boss before I know it. Very smart girl, but serious as hell.’ Arnold stirred the pot. ‘I can’t believe Avril’s been murdered, DCI Ridley. I mean, why would anyone do such a thing? I’ve looked after their legal, business and financial matters for going on forty years. When her husband Frederick died she inherited everything. In truth, that house has been beyond her means for the best part of a decade. It’s mortgaged to the hilt. Freddie had some high- and low-risk investments, but the Iceland Bank crash lost him a great deal of money. Lost some of his clients’ money too. Clients can hold grudges if the losses are big enough. Maybe one of them...?’

‘I don’t think it’s likely...’ Ridley said. He couldn’t imagine vengeful investors resorting to the dismemberment of a spouse, ten years after the husband had died. ‘But we’ll not dismiss anything without checking into it.’

Arnold shook his head. ‘I can’t believe she’s gone. She was an extraordinary lady. Didn’t suffer fools — and why should she? But she was always charming to me. After Freddie died, she became very careful with money. The house cost her far more than she got in, so she sold a few paintings to keep the wolf from the door. She’d have been ripped off, no doubt, but she was a proud woman who struggled with asking for help, regardless of it being freely offered.’

‘Did you know Adam Border?’ Ridley could tell by the blank expression on Arnold’s face that the name didn’t even ring the vaguest of bells. ‘He was her gardener and odd-job man.’

Arnold explained that he never saw Avril at the house, she always came to his office, so he hadn’t met any workmen. When Ridley asked if Avril and Frederick Jenkins had any family, Arnold mentioned that Freddie had a brother in California, who lived with his partner. Other than that, it was his understanding that there was no extended family on either side. Arnold became more disturbed when Ridley asked about the cannabis in the greenhouse.

‘You’re bloody joking! Drugs? Well, she didn’t know they were there, I can tell you that much. Where was the greenhouse? Miles away from the house, I bet.’ Arnold took a moment to calm himself. ‘She can’t have known, DCI Ridley. She was eccentric in recent years, but she was good. Fundamentally good.’

Ridley reminded Arnold that he had only just finished explaining how Avril had been known to sell the odd painting to — in his words — ‘keep the wolf from the door’.

‘I did say that, yes... which is exactly why I don’t believe she’d need to sell drugs for financial reasons.’

Arnold confirmed that he’d last seen Avril ten months ago. They’d spent the hour exchanging pleasantries and drinking tea, just as they always did. The only business they discussed was why her utility bill was so high when she’d not changed her habits. They’d concluded that it was a mistake and she’d left saying that she’d call the utility company with an accurate meter reading. Arnold couldn’t seem to get his head round the idea that he’d never see Avril again.

‘After Freddie died, it felt like my duty to look after Avril for him. She didn’t make it easy, but I called her monthly. Not that she always answered. Each time I spoke with her, I asked if she was OK and if there was anything she needed. She always said she was fine. I’m so sorry if I let her down. I tried my best.’


By 8 p.m., Jack was alone inside Avril’s property. Outside, two uniformed officers stood on sentry duty by the front gates, whilst others were still doing door-to-door around the neighbouring houses, and one SOCO van was still parked on the driveway.

Jack had explored every room in the house and was about ready to call it a day, when he noticed the double garage. He’d parked outside it on his second visit, but he now wondered if it had been searched yet.

Jack stood on his tiptoes and peered in through the filthy window. He tried to clean away the grime with his coat sleeve, but it was as much on the inside as the outside. He could, however, make out two vehicles under tarpaulins — one large, one smaller. As he was still wearing his protective paper suit, Jack pulled on a fresh pair of nitrile gloves and turned the unlocked Yale. Jack pulled at the wooden door which dug into the gravel where it had dropped over the years, but not too deeply for it to open.

Jack lifted the edge of the nearest tarp to reveal the bumper of a black Range Rover. Then he lifted the smaller tarp and Jack’s skin went cold. The smaller vehicle was a silver Porsche. As he looked at the long, sleek headlight poking out from beneath the tarp, Jack could hear the stick he was going to get if this turned out to be the same silver Porsche that allegedly belonged to the elusive Adam Border. Not only did he not spot a greenhouse full of cannabis when he was standing virtually right next to it, but he’d also parked next to a garage containing a car that was currently being tracked by half the Met!

Jack leant heavily against the cobwebbed wall. If Adam Border had been stalking Avril Jenkins and escaping into the night before anyone set eyes on him, he’d either been doing it on foot or he’d had another vehicle. And in the even more unlikely event that Avril Jenkins was a drug dealer, she’d been expertly hiding all of the evidence such as transactions, suppliers, distributors and earnings.

‘You, OK?’ Jack looked up to see Laura standing just outside the garage. ‘Fuck me, is that the missing Porsche?’ Laura couldn’t help but laugh. Jack pushed the wooden door back through the gravel, closed the garage and told one of the uniformed officers to ask CSI to make it a priority.

Laura offered to take Jack for a pint before they headed home, but he was too distracted to hear her. ‘There’s got to be a safe. You wouldn’t expect to find proof of illegal earnings from drug sales in plain sight, but there’s no normal paperwork either. No passport, no driving licence — assuming the Range Rover is hers — no bank statements, utility bills, nothing.’ Laura patiently listened. Jack often did this, voicing all of his thoughts out loud to make sure they sounded feasible. All he wanted her to do was listen and challenge him when he said something that didn’t stand up to scrutiny. ‘Someone cleared the attic room, Laura. There was a jacket, a jumper and a suitcase. All gone.’

‘How do you know Avril didn’t get rid of them?’

‘I don’t. But they’d been there for months, so why would she suddenly decide to get rid of them in the last few days?’ Laura added the thought that if Adam had finally returned for his clothes and suitcase, why not collect his car at the same time? Jack had no answers.

‘OK, Jack, look, CSI will process the cars and garage tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll come back and go through the whole place again to see if we can find a safe. But right now, come to the pub. We can talk more stuff through if you need to, or we can just chill. But don’t stay here.’

Jack thanked Laura for being his level-headed sounding board. Then he declined her offer of the pub and headed home to be with Maggie.

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