Friday morning started off bitterly cold, and Warren had taken extra care driving into work. He’d arrived well before dawn, pulling into the car park at the same time as Moray Ruskin who, as usual, hadn’t let a little bit of ice get in the way of his triathlon training. The steam was rising off his colleague as he locked his bicycle up. Warren felt cold just looking at him.
David Hutchinson opened the briefing. ‘We’ve traced the hotel. Cambridgeshire Commercial Laundry Services have identified the tag on the bed sheet as coming from the Easy Break Hotel out on the A506.’
Warren knew the establishment. Situated roughly halfway between Middlesbury and Cambridge, it was a small, independent hotel with conference facilities and cheap rooms for travellers on a low budget.
‘Are we confident that the sheet came from the hotel, not the laundry firm?’ asked Sutton.
‘I asked them to check their inventory logs and they claim that they count each item in and out. No discrepancies.’
‘Is that location consistent with the data from his phone?’ asked Warren.
‘No,’ said, Pymm. ‘The handset was turned off Thursday evening, so we don’t have anything from then. The next time it was turned on was briefly Friday morning near his flat, when he texted work.’
‘Karen, go to the hotel and show staff a copy of the photograph the Patels gave us,’ instructed Warren. ‘If he did stay there, seal the room he stayed in and secure any CCTV footage. Let’s try and work out when he was there and if he was with anyone. It can’t be a coincidence that his body was wrapped in a sheet from the hotel. Either he was killed there or his killer has a link to the hotel.
‘We also need to try and pin down a timeline for when he was last physically seen, text messages aren’t good enough. Also see if his car is there, we still haven’t tracked that down. Anything else from the location data, Rachel?’
‘Still analysing in detail, but so far, the brothers’ movements match what they told us,’ she replied, ‘as do their dad and sister’s. Working during the week and home in the evening. Reva and her father popped out on the Thursday and Friday respectively to the supermarket.’
Warren considered what she’d told him. As an alibi, mobile phone movements were hardly watertight, but at least they hadn’t caught any of them out in an obvious lie.
‘I’ve also been doing some more digging into Gotam Patel’s finances,’ said Pymm. ‘First of all, the family businesses have a very impressive turnover.’
Warren looked at the spreadsheet displayed on the main screen.
He let out a low whistle. ‘You’re not kidding – it’s like he’s printing money. And presumably, his kids stand to inherit the lot when he dies?’
‘Yes, and that’s just his liquid assets. Almost all of these businesses are turning a significant profit. I’m no expert, but if the kids don’t fancy continuing his empire after he passes, they could sell them as going concerns for a very tidy sum. He really knows how to make money: launderettes in areas where the residents are unlikely to own a washing machine, the only newsagent-cum-grocery store in a neighbourhood, dry cleaning firms close to train and bus stations to capture business commuters. He has a real eye for choosing the most attractive locations. They also make Indian snacks that they sell through their shops and other local businesses; samosas, bhajis, pakoras, that sort of thing, under the brand name “Suniti’s Sundries”. It looks as though Reva worked with her mum and then continued after she died.’
‘Well, that certainly makes his inheritance worth fighting for,’ said Sutton. ‘I’ve seen people killed for far less than that.’
‘There’s more,’ said Pymm. ‘We know that he pumped some serious money into that barn he converted for Reva to live in with her husband, including a professional kitchen. It turns out he also pays the mortgage on both his son’s houses. And the lease on all three kids’ cars.’
‘Sounds like daddy loves his children very much,’ said Sutton, his voice heavy with sarcasm. ‘Who cares if he’s a nasty piece of work if he’s throwing money at you?’
‘What about Anish?’ asked Warren.
‘Nothing that I can find,’ said Pymm.
‘Well, you’d think that they’d be a bit more generous about sharing their inheritance,’ said Hutchinson. ‘But then I suppose greed is like that.’
‘His brothers and sister may well figure that given how hard they’ve worked to help build the family business, Anish doesn’t deserve any part of it,’ Warren said. ‘Which to my mind gives them all a pretty strong motive for not wanting him to get married and have kids.’
Warren headed back to his office and dialled an extension at Welwyn from memory.
‘How are you doing with Anish Patel’s tablet, Pete?’
Warren didn’t like badgering his colleagues in the forensic IT department, but he knew from experience that the explosion of digital evidence in recent years meant that even priority cases like murder investigations could find themselves sliding down the job list.
He could hear Robertson sigh at the end of the phone.
‘We’re on it. We’ve managed to bypass the lock code, and we’re making a copy of its storage as we speak. I’ll get it to you later today.’
That was quicker than Warren had hoped for, and he thanked Robertson.
‘Are you able to access his email and app usage?’
‘Yes, he uses push notifications, so there’s no need to enter his passwords again.’
‘Has he installed any extra apps?’
‘How did I know you were going to ask that?’ said Robertson. ‘Hang on, let me have a look.’
There was the sound of plastic on wood as Robertson placed the handset down on his table, followed by the sound of rustling. Warren could picture Robertson moving around his tiny office. It never ceased to amaze him how someone so tall and ungainly could work in such cramped conditions.
‘OK, let’s see what we have here,’ said Robertson, his voice suddenly very loud. Warren could hear his breathing down the line, as he balanced the handset between his ear and his shoulder.
‘It’s a Samsung tablet; most of the apps are the pre-installed ones. Let’s see what he’s added. Hmm, Netflix, Amazon and BBC iPlayer,’ Robertson made a humming noise. ‘This sounds interesting. Rainbow Hookups – that’s a new one on me; looks like some sort of dating app for the LGBTQ community. And another one, this one’s called Bespoke Pairings. According to the description, it’s some sort of matching service for people looking for non-romantic, long-term partners.’
In the background, Warren could hear the rapid clicking of computer keys.
‘Well I never, you learn a new thing every day,’ said Robertson.
‘Go on,’ said Warren, trying not to sound impatient.
‘According to the site, it specialises in setting up couples who need a partner for appearance’s sake. There are a number of options on the search page, such as heterosexual or same-sex partners. You can even specify if you are looking for marriage, open relationships or companionship, with a tick box for whether you wish to enter a sexual relationship. Looking at the app on his tablet, he’s a subscriber to the Pro edition, which allows users to get matches and make contact.’
‘Bingo,’ said Warren. It looked as though they had found a way of identifying Anish’s lady friend.