They left Sandra Forbes in the capable hands of a trained Family Liaison Officer and uniformed constables, who would be able to carry out the administrative work of seizing Martin’s hairbrush and toothbrush as evidence, as well as sensitively searching the home for anything else which might prove useful.
Having been shown photographs of Martin and compared those to the body found under Welland Viaduct, they were in no doubt that the body was his, and in their eyes a DNA match would be a mere formality. As a result, they’d informed Sandra that the body was overwhelmingly likely to be that of her husband.
As far as Caroline was concerned, this was a murder case. The blow to the back of Martin Forbes’s head was substantial, and wasn’t something he could’ve inflicted on himself. When that was coupled with strangulation and the possibility that Martin had died elsewhere and been moved underneath the viaduct after his death, all signs pointed towards murder.
Before they left, they’d managed to ascertain that Sandra didn’t know of any arguments or enemies, or anyone who might want Martin dead. By all accounts he’d been a man who largely kept himself to himself, and wasn’t the sort of person to fall out with people unnecessarily.
They’d established that Martin was the owner of a graphic design company based in Uppingham, and knew that by now the working day would’ve started in earnest, the rest of the employees naturally wondering where their boss had got to. In any case, their focus now turned to looking for suspects, motives and evidence, and it was clear they weren’t going to get much more out of Sandra Forbes at the moment.
A little under ten minutes after leaving the Forbes house, they arrived outside the premises of Allure Design, the company Martin owned and ran, on the outskirts of Uppingham. Caroline pressed the buzzer on the outside of the door, and a few seconds later a voice answered.
‘Hello?’
‘Hello, Detective Inspector Hills and Detective Sergeant Antoine from Rutland Police. Can we come in, please?’
‘Erm, well, I’m not sure. The boss isn’t in and I don’t want to…’
‘No-one’s in trouble,’ Caroline said. ‘We just have something we need to speak to you about.’
There was a short click, then a buzz as the door unlocked and Dexter pulled it open, before they both stepped inside. A thirty-something woman greeted them a few moments later.
‘Sorry. Bit of a weird morning,’ she said. ‘I’m Monique. Operations and Finance Manager. How can I help?’
‘Is there somewhere we can sit down?’
Monique took them through into what appeared to be a break room, and led them over to a seating area, which consisted of a dozen or so quarter-egg shaped chairs around a shocking pink and ridiculously shaggy circular rug.
‘Wow. It’s… bright in here.’
‘Thanks! It was designed to spark impulsivity and engage the creative side of the mind.’
‘Oh. It was designed?’ Caroline asked.
‘Yes,’ Monique said, sitting down in a bright orange quarter-egg. ‘By me.’
‘Ah. Well, like I say, it’s very… It’s lovely.’
‘Thank you. So, how can I help?’
‘You mentioned your boss isn’t here. I understand that’s Martin Forbes, is that right?’
‘Yes, dear old Martin. I mean, he’s not that old, but most people here are under forty, so he gets that little sobriquet de facto.’
‘Mmmm. Okay. When did you last see Martin?’
‘Well, that would’ve been yesterday. It’s usually one of the two of us that locks up. I had to leave early last night, so I left Martin to it.’
‘What time was this?’
‘A minute or two after five. I had to dash. Why? Is there a problem?’
‘I’m sorry to have to say that a body has been found, and that we believe it to be the body of Martin Forbes.’
‘Oh. Oh my. Are you sure?’
‘As certain as we can be, yes.’
‘Oh my.’ Monique made the sign of the cross. ‘Requiescat in pace.’
‘Are you religious?’ Caroline asked.
‘No. Classically trained.’
‘As what?’
Dexter gave Caroline a look. Fortunately, Monique seemed to have drifted off into a world of her own.
‘What happened to him?’ she asked. ‘I mean, he’s always so fit and healthy. He runs every day.’
‘We’re not certain yet, but we’re currently investigating it as murder.’
‘Murder? Oh my.’
‘Yes. We’re sorry to have to ask you this, but had Martin had any strong disagreements with anyone recently? Did he have any enemies or perhaps anyone who’d been upset in business?’
Monique looked at Caroline as if she’d just bent over and passed wind. ‘No, of course not. Martin didn’t make enemies. I mean, he was strong-minded. He knew what he wanted. He was a nulla tenaci invia est via sort of chap, if you know what I mean.’
‘I don’t.’
‘It means “For the tenacious, no road is impassable”. You need to be pretty strong-willed in this business, but not on a level which would make anyone want to… Well, you know.’
‘Yes. Did his tenacity tend to upset people, then?’
‘Well, no. Not exactly.’
‘Not exactly?’
‘He was never mean or nasty. He’s a… I think at heart he was a good person. He always strove for better. I mean, the company’s motto is quite literally “Non progredi est regredi.” What more could you ask for?’
‘A translation?’
‘It means “To not go forward is to go backward”. Wise words in business.’
‘Did he come up with that motto?’ Caroline asked, noticing Dexter trying not to smile.
Monique thought for a moment. ‘No, I think I did actually.’
Caroline faked a reaction of impressed surprise. ‘I see. So no workplace disagreements or fallings out at all?’
Monique opened her mouth to reply, but then stopped.
‘Monique?’
‘Well, these things happen in the workplace don’t they?’
‘That’s what we’re hoping to find out. What’s the specific example you have in mind?’
‘Well, there was one recently. It wasn’t anything major. And I don’t want to drop anyone in it unnecessarily.’
‘In my experience, you never know what information might prove to be pertinent. It’s always best we know everything and filter it at this end, believe me.’
Monique swallowed. ‘Okay. Well, one of our designers, Amie Tanner, went into Martin’s office at the back end of last week. Thursday or Friday, I think it was. I didn’t catch how the conversation started, but I began to hear raised voices. I mean, on the surface of things, it was just a disagreement over a project she was working on. But it didn’t quite make any sense.’
‘How do you mean?’ Caroline asked.
‘Well, it was clear there was something else under the surface. To me, it seemed like they’d fallen out over something else, and it was all bubbling to a head over this silly work thing instead.’
‘I see. Amie Tanner, is she in today?’
‘No, she’s working from home today. She’s got two young girls and her husband works shifts, so she tries to work from home at half term, as much as possible.’
‘Do you have her address?’
‘Not off the top of my head, but I can find it. It’ll be on the system.’
‘Thank you. That’d be much appreciated. Oh, speaking of which, we’ll need to speak to whoever looks after your computer systems. Our IT forensics people will need to take a look.’
‘Oh. Well, that’d be Tom. But he’s not in today. He’s due back tomorrow, I think. I can get his number, if that helps?’
‘Yes please. That’d be great if it’s not too much trouble.’
‘Of course! Nil volentibus arduum.’
Caroline smiled and watched as Monique left the room.
‘Bloody hell, is anyone in work today?’ Caroline asked.
‘These designer types,’ Dexter replied. ‘Probably busy gazing out of windows. Still, obviously does the job. Looks great in here, doesn’t it?’
‘Does it? And what’s with all the Latin phrases? It’s like interviewing Julius bloody Caesar.’
‘I think the term is “Quidquid latine dictum sit, altum videtur”,’ Dexter said.
‘Not you as well,’ Caroline replied, sighing. ‘Go on, then. What does that one mean?’
‘“Anything said in Latin sounds profound.”’