Chapter 9

 

         Getting up early was no problem for Donny. He dressed in black training bottoms, the ones with the red stripe down the legs and plain black T-shirt and Hi-Tech black trainers and hit the tarmac setting his wrist monitor for fifteen minute intervals. A deep greyness surrounded him and the cars had headlights on but the driving rain he found exhilarating. The sky out west was lighter on the horizon and he expected a brighter day by the time he returned. Hitting a quick rhythm he maintained a slack pace, just warming up, until the first beep when he stepped up the tempo. A ten kilometre run was a twice weekly routine and he filled those rambling blank mind spaces he got with running, those kind of bored holes in your head, he filled them with all those thoughts that complicated the day.

The meeting with Aubrey Beauchamp on that stormy Saturday morning in the dead of winter about seven months ago he had found kind of difficult. Telling someone their son was a criminal was not an easy thing. The short thin butler, about sixty he thought, answered the door in that loose fitting black suit, the sort of suit that looked like it had been made for a stockier, taller man, a loose waist and trousers held up by thick black braces. He was struck by the over-large feet that gave him a sort of clumpy gait.

The deep voice had said, “can I help you Sir?” Very formal, delivered in a monotone sound without a scrap of emotion.

“Is Mr Beauchamp home?” Donny had replied.

“Sir is indisposed at present.” said the butler.

“Could you ask if he will see me? My name is Donny Caruthers, that’s Detective Inspector Donald Caruthers, serious crime.” And he showed his warrant card.

The butler disappeared leaving Donny standing on the doorstep and after a few minutes returned and simply said, “follow me,” closed the door and stiffly clumped along the hallway in a way that kind of looked like he was tripping over his feet and indicated the open door to the study, “please go in Sir.”

Aubrey Beauchamp was sitting behind his large desk engrossed in a pile of papers with the large window behind casting what little light the dull day allowed. One of those wide brass desk strip lights provided all the close light he required and the absence of any further lighting made the rest of the large room seem gloomy. Donny felt he was standing in the shade.

Standing up and dressed casually with a deep blue Polo hanging over baggy chinos Aubrey’s face cracked a wide welcoming smile and he said, “inspector Caruthers please take a seat. Max will bring coffee. Now tell me what you want.”

Donny said with as serious a voice as he could, “I’m investigating an international drugs operation based in the UK. Money is laundered through various sources and it’s this money that’s their weakness. If I can prove a link I can close them down.”

“Interesting but what’s this to do with me?” asked Aubrey.

“Your Pub, Restaurant and Gambling concerns have been identified as one of the sources. Your son Freddie runs these I believe and we think he controls this laundering operation. It’s quite simple. He takes in the cash, puts it through the cash flow then makes legitimate payments of fictitious invoices.”

Aubrey, clearly shocked, said with one of those shaking kind of hesitating voices, “I have no knowledge of this. Are you sure?”

“I’m sure and I realise you’re not involved. The payments are organised through James Munroe who’s a solicitor, your’s I believe. He has extensive contacts within the drugs world and uses this cover as a middleman approaching his clients and persuading them. Maybe those with money difficulties who might find an easy source of cash attractive.”

There was a knock on the door and Max entered with coffee and while he was pouring Aubrey was very quiet, clearly thinking and looking a mixture of anger and dismay. Donny could see the anguish he was going through his face having that kind of look, the sort of look a depressed alcoholic might have when told there was no more booze.

When Max had left he said, “I am having trouble understanding this. I simply can’t believe James is involved, let alone Freddie. I have dealt with James for years and Freddie… well why would he? He has everything.”

“Perhaps Freddie has money troubles. That would make him vulnerable.”

“But why should he? Those businesses are so profitable…. But anyway if it’s true what do you want from me?”

“We need proof. If possible I would like you to find any documentation. Invoices would be good and records of transactions. But it’s essential to maintain a low profile. This is an undercover operation to avoid the risk of alerting this organisation. That is very important and I can't stress it enough. That’s why I’m asking for your help rather than obtaining a search warrant. Would it be possible for you to have a look?”

Aubrey thought for a long moment, then said, “I have no problem helping you. Freddie is away for a few days so I will have time to look and then if necessary have words with Freddie. If it is as you say I assure you I will find your proof if it’s there to be found. You can rely on that.”

 

Max was waiting in the corridor when Donny left the study and Donny followed him to the front door. As he went outside he turned and pulled Max by the arm through the door and looking down the corridor pulled the door almost closed.

“I hear you butlers have ears that extend through keyholes. I expect you heard the gist of our conversation Max?”

“I did Sir and very unsettling it was.”

“You been with them long?” Donny said.

“Over twenty five years Sir. I am employed by Mrs Beacuchamp.” Max replied.

“And you like her?”

“If I didn’t Sir I would not still be here, would I? I will do anything for her if that’s what you are getting at… Sir.”

“That’s what I thought Max. Can I rely on you?”

“Certainly Sir, up to a point of course. There are boundaries I will not cross but certainly as far as Mrs Beauchamp is concerned you can.”

“Can you let me know if anything happens? If there is anything unusual. Here’s my card. Phone this number anytime day or night. It could be important.”

“Is there any danger sir?”

“I’m not sure. These are ruthless people so if they do find out about my investigation there could be.”

“In that case Sir, I will be most vigilant.”

“Thank you Max and drop the Sir thing will you. Call me Donny. Do you have a mobile number?”

“Certainly….Sir er Donny.” he said but with a bit of difficulty and gave him the number.

 

The first call Donny had from Max was a few days later. His phone had beeped about eight in the evening.

“It’s Max Sir…. I mean Donny. Mr Beauchamp has been looking into the business Freddie was involved in but I don’t know what he found out. Freddie has just returned and they’ve had a terrific row. Mr Beauchamp has sacked him and he’s gone to see his solicitor.”

“Can you stop him?”

“He’s already left to go to his house.”

 

The next call he had was two days later, “I’m with Mrs Beauchamp.” Max said, “Mr Beauchamp has been in a car accident. I’m afraid he did not survive.”

Donny was quiet for a few seconds then said, “thank you Max. I’m sure you will stay with Mrs Beauchamp but if there’s anything you need just call. Phone me if there are any developments.”

When Max hung up Donny immediately pressed speed dial, “Guv’nor,” he said, “Aubrey Beauchamp has been killed in a car accident.”

“Do you know how?”

“I’ve no details. Max the butler called me.”

“I’ll look into it. This makes things awkward. We need that proof. What about a search warrant?”

“There’s no guarantee that will produce anything Guv and they will be alerted. How about leaving it for a while and see how it develops. No one suspects our investigation at the moment so I don’t see opening it up has any advantage. Let me see if I can find another angle.”

“That makes sense Donny I suppose. Ok see what you can do and keep me posted.”

Later his Guv’nor phoned back and said that the traffic boys said they were treating the accident as not suspicious. Aubrey was run over. Even if it was suspicious, there was no proof and no witnesses had come forward. CCTV on the corner showed a black Range Rover but the number plates were obscured and the driver was not identifiable.

 

The third call was a few days after the funeral.

“It’s Max… Donny. That solicitor has just been here to go through Mr Beauchamps Will. He has suggested she find a financial advisor. I don’t trust him, Sir…. Donny.”

“Thanks Max. Leave this with me and I’ll call you back in a bit. On your mobile.”

Donny then called Bobby Lucas who he had just met in a bar a couple of weeks before, “hey Bobby,” he said, “I’ve some business for you if you’re interested. A rich lady with money to invest. Shall I give her your number.”

“Sure,” Bobby had said, “and thanks.”

Then he phoned Max back and told him to tell Mrs Beauchamp to call Bobby Lucas and he thought, “Bobby’s an all right sort of fella and it won’t be hard to gain his trust and this is a great way to keep tabs on a situation.”

 

The next contact Donny had with Max was was when he phoned him a few days ago which would be about six months after the funeral, “hi Max it’s Donny,” he had said, “I know Mrs Beauchamp did not action anything after the meeting she had with Bobby Lucas a few months ago. I think she has had enough time now and I need to try and progress my investigation. Can you prompt her? It would be useful to get the two of them together again. Get her to phone Bobby.”

 

 The fourth call he received from Max was just a day later, “It’s Max, Donny. Freddie has been here today and had a terrible row with Mrs Beauchamp about who should control Mr Aubrey’s money. She told him that Mr Beauchamp had found out things about Freddie’s dealings just before he sacked him and that Mr Beauchamp had records that he’d hidden. And she’s been in touch with the financial advisor. They’re meeting on Monday. ”

“I know Max, I was with Bobby when she called. Does she know where anything’s hidden?” Donny asked.

“No but Freddie’s sure to look for them, Isn’t he? I don’t like this Donny, you have to do something.”

“You’re right,” Donny said, “I think you need to get out of there. Take a few days off so you’re out of the way. If Freddie knows there’s anything out there things could get dangerous. I’ll get Mrs Beauchamp out of the house.”

“She won’t go you know, even if you tell her it’s dangerous to stay she still won’t go.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll get her out even if I have to kidnap her.” Donny said.

 

As expected when he returned to his flat the day was brightening up. The storm clouds were disappearing and the sun was starting to cast some warm rays. His flat was on the third floor and he sprinted up the stairs in a final gesture almost bumping into Rita the old lady with the blue rinse just coming into the stairwell and the first floor. One thing Rita could be relied upon for was knowing everything that went on.

“Sorry Rita,” he said, “almost bumped you there. Anything been happening?” He was not that tall but he towered over the diminutive lady.

“No dear,” she said looking up at him over her blue rimmed glasses and smiling one of those little all knowing old lady smiles, “postwoman’s been and that’s about it. Boring really.”

“You need anything?”

“No thanks dear, I’m just off to the shops for a few bits.”

Opening his front door Donny went in, stripped off, slung his clothes in the washer and took a long hot shower then waited for Bobby to arrive. Sitting on the sofa with his T-shirt hanging over his jeans and hair all damp and going wavy.