Chapter 5

I arrived at the offices of Fortiscues Diamond Traders to find a notice pinned to the front door and also no smartly dressed concierge on duty. The notice simply said ‘Due to the tragic death of Brian Fortiscue these offices are closed until further notice. If your business is urgent please phone 020 5913 7331.’

On phoning the number the lady who answered put me through to Harold Fortiscue. He organized for the entrance door to be opened.

My escort left me outside the closed door of his office. I knocked, dreading the meeting that was about to take place. What do you say to someone who has just lost a brother in a horrendous fashion?

‘Come in Vince,’ a voice called out.

Entering the room I found Harold sitting behind a large oak desk which looked old enough to have been part of the company since it started well over a hundred years ago.

‘Good morning Harold. I was absolutely shattered to see in the Telegraph this morning about the murder of your brother, what a terrible thing to happen,’ I stammered out.

‘You can imagine how upset we all are and what effect it has had on my father. He was already in a bad way,’ Harold said glancing up at me.

‘Is there any particular reason that you wanted to see me this morning,’ I said, sitting down in a chair, in front of his desk.

‘I wanted to find out how you got on with Willem in Rotterdam,’

That was not the response that I expected. I had anticipated some new revelations that would justify this meeting. All he had wanted to know was how I had got on in Rotterdam?

‘My visit went very well. Willem was extremely helpful and gave me a lot of attention. I am now a much wiser man where diamonds are concerned,’ I replied.

‘Did you find out anything that might prove of value in your investigation,’ Harold asked me, looking straight at me and engaging my eyes.

I was about to tell him that someone had gone through my bag and that my room had been ransacked, but some inner warning bell stopped me.

‘I am finding the industry a terribly complicated one and am very doubtful that it will be possible to find out where the illicit diamonds are coming from,’ I said, hopefully convincing him that it was what I believed. ‘The probability is that they are blood diamonds released by the warlords in the Congo or Angola.’ In fact the one thing that I was sure about was that they were not blood diamonds, but I didn’t want Harold to know what I was actually thinking until I knew what side he was on.

‘It sounds as if you are coming to grips with the task and I am encouraged by what you have picked up in Rotterdam. With regard to your South African trip, I have arranged for you to meet with Moira Fortuin when you get to Johannesburg on Thursday. She is the wife of our agent in South Africa who has gone missing. I have written her telephone number on this piece of paper so you can call her to arrange a time to see her,’ Harold said as he passed the piece of paper to me.

‘Do the police know what happened to your brother?’ I asked, deciding to see if I could gain any useful information that might bring some light to bear on what was going on.

‘It’s very early days yet in the investigation; however, the police do think that he was murdered elsewhere, and his body was dumped in the field in Henley-on-Thames,’ Harold offered.

‘Have they any idea who might have wanted him dead and could it be connected with this whole diamond business?’ I asked.

‘They haven’t said, but it is extremely unlikely that his murder is connected with what you are investigating. He was a lecturer at the London School of Economics and had no connection with the diamond business, other than being a non-executive director of our company,’

‘I cannot believe that someone would want to murder a lecturer in the LSE?’ I added.

‘It’s very sad, but the family will just have to get over it. I’m sorry Vince, but I will have to leave now; I must go to my father’s house to make sure he is OK. Have a good trip to South Africa and keep me informed of developments,’ he stood up and came around the desk to shake my hand and usher me to the door.

‘I’ll come and see you when I get back from Johannesburg,’ I said as I left him at the door of his office.

While travelling back to Putney on the tube, I tried to work out the real reason Harold had wanted to meet me. He should be mourning his brother and supporting his father not spending time talking to me. Nothing of importance had arisen at the meeting, and he could have sent me Moira Fortuin’s phone number in a text message. Nothing was making sense, and Harold’s reaction to his brother’s murder didn’t seem to be appropriate. The Fortiscues were obviously a decidedly different family to what I was used to.

I even questioned my own behaviour at the meeting with Harold. Why hadn’t I felt that I could tell him about my suspicions of Willem and the fact that my bag and hotel room had been searched? A lesson that I was learning very quickly was that until I was 100% certain of someone it was safer to listen than speak.

In a more confident mood, I left the tube at East Putney station and walked the short distance to my home. Being lunchtime and a Tuesday my wife was out working in a local boutique, and the children were at school. I could have a leisurely lunch, make a few notes on the status of my investigation and then pick the kids up from school.