Five

Despite Kevan de Vries’ assertion that he would welcome conversation during the journey in the police car, he remained resolutely taciturn during the three-hour drive to Sutterton. This suited Tim very well. He knew he and Juliet would at least have to provide polite answers to any reasonable comments or queries that de Vries might make, which could only mean duplicating their effort when they came to question him formally. He was curious as to why de Vries had been so adamant that he didn’t want to travel with Sentance. Tim wouldn’t have taken much persuading to let them drive together, if de Vries had really pushed for it. If he’d wanted to have an off-the-record discussion with Sentance, he would surely already have talked to the man on his mobile by now. De Vries seemed to loathe the sight of his employee.

Juliet, who was sitting in the back of the car with de Vries, observed that he was extremely fatigued. Part of this could be accounted for by jet-lag, but she thought she glimpsed something more deeply etched in his face than the tiredness that comes from a temporary assault on the body clock. De Vries’ face was tanned, either because the Windward Islands sunshine had worked quickly or because he habitually spent a lot of time outside, but beneath the weather-beaten tint she discerned a greyness in his skin, a tautness and fragility – though it seemed an odd word to apply to such a stocky man – that suggested either underlying illness or some chronic anguish. On several occasions, she saw his head jerk forward, his eyes half-closing as he fought back sleep.

As the police car slowed to negotiate the large roundabout that, together with the village green, formed twin hearts at the centre of Sutterton, de Vries sat up straight and struggled to smooth down his clothing. He was wearing a pale summer jacket and chinos, both crumpled by many hours of travel. He passed the back of his hand across his forehead and rubbed his eyes vigorously.

“Are you all right, Mr de Vries?” Juliet asked quietly. Tim studied his passengers in the driving mirror. He sensed that Juliet was beginning to like the man, or at least to sympathise with him. He sighed inwardly. Juliet’s ‘instincts’, which had at one time come in for a bit of stick from her colleagues, had now been proved correct on too many occasions to be ignored. However, if she suspected that de Vries was innocent, Tim was certain that on this occasion she’d be proved wrong. He’d bet his life that de Vries was guilty of something. It wasn’t necessarily what they wanted to question him about at the moment; Tim conceded that he seemed to be too confident about that. But he’d met businessmen like de Vries before; their activities opened out of each other like corridors in a labyrinth. Somewhere at the heart of the labyrinth there would be something nefarious going on, even a whole parallel universe of illegal activity being matched against what was above board. The big imponderable would be whether the police would be able to muster the acumen and resources simultaneously needed to expose it.

They were drawing level with Laurieston House now and Tim had slowed almost to walking pace. The grounds of the house were bounded by wrought-iron railings, on the other side of which grew thickets of laurel. Only a few glimpses of the double drive could be seen from the road.

“Fuck!” said de Vries suddenly.

Juliet followed his line of vision. He was looking through one of the gaps in the laurel hedge. A gleaming maroon Bentley had been parked on the gravel sweep, just to the right of the front door.

“Is something wrong?” asked Juliet.

“The little shit!” de Vries muttered, almost to himself. Then, in a louder voice. “I apologise. I’m very tired. I hadn’t expected to see Sentance here just yet. And he hasn’t gone straight away, as I asked – that’s his car parked further up.”

“He doesn’t have to join us if you don’t want him to, sir,” said Tim. Privately he was thinking that Sentance must have stepped on the gas to have beaten them to it. He didn’t seem like too much of a risk-taker, but evidently getting there first had been more important to him than breaking the speed limit, even though he was chancing being quizzed about it by two police officers.

“I don’t want to cause any awkwardness.”

“As you wish, Mr de Vries,” said Tim. Strange that such an arrogant man was wary of offending the sensibilities of an employee whom he disliked.