Cross and Ottey went back to Squire’s to speak with Torquil. But the old man was out, at a doctor’s appointment. Persephone and Sam were there, however. The two detectives sat down with Taylor at his desk on the first floor.
‘We’ve come across something which we hope you might be able to shed some light on,’ began Ottey.
‘Oh yes,’ he said, with the enthusiasm people often have when they think they’re going to be let in on something secret or confidential. He sat forward to give them his full attention. Cross reflected this was quite different to his attitude the first time they interviewed him when he seemed reluctant to even look at them.
‘A payment of two hundred and fifty thousand was made into the shop’s bank account, last year, about twelve months ago. Do you know anything about it?’ Ottey asked.
‘Two hundred and fifty grand? No. But then again, I don’t really know anything about the financial workings of the business,’ he replied.
‘But if it had been a sale, surely you’d have known about that?’ she pushed.
‘I don’t recall anything like that. That’s some sale for us,’ he said.
‘Actually, we think the sale might’ve been bigger. Ed told Victoria it was commission on a sale,’ Ottey elaborated.
‘Commission? Bloody hell. What’s that? A two million quid sale? We’ve never done one of those while I’ve been here. It can’t be a sale,’ he said.
‘Why not?’ asked Cross.
‘Because he’d have let everyone know about it. That would’ve been huge news. He’d’ve taken us out to celebrate. He always took us out for lunch or a drink if he put together a good deal. Two million pounds? He’d’ve probably taken us away for a weekend,’ he joked.
‘So, you know nothing about it?’ asked Ottey.
‘No, sorry. Couldn’t Victoria tell you anything?’ he asked.
‘Ed wouldn’t give her any details,’ said Cross.
‘The money has subsequently gone out of the account,’ said Ottey.
‘That’s odd. Maybe they had more of the mortgage to pay off than I thought,’ he commented.
‘No. It was paid out to a third party,’ Ottey informed him.
‘In cash,’ added Cross.
‘Cash!’ He tried to process this in the moment. ‘I assume that’s why you want to talk to Torquil,’ Sam said.
‘Indeed,’ began Cross. ‘I appreciate you may not know anything about the transaction, specifically. But I’d like to discuss any observations you may have had about Ed over the past year. Did anything strike you as being out of the normal?’
Sam thought for a moment.
‘He went to Italy a couple of times. That was strange, now I think about it. He said he was going to appraise a library. But afterwards nothing came through the shop. He implied it had been a wasted trip, which was fine. These things happen. But then he went back and again had nothing to show for it. Or at least nothing I was aware of,’ he said.
‘Did he go on his own?’ asked Cross.
‘Yes. Which was also a little strange. He’d normally take me or occasionally Torquil would go. As of late, even Madam downstairs went on a few trips.’
‘Maybe he took Victoria with him?’ suggested Ottey.
‘I don’t think so.’ He began thinking back. ‘I do remember one time, she came in to see the old man – they went out for dinner – Ed was away and she joked that maybe he had an Italian girlfriend. But she always made jokes about that,’ he laughed.
‘When was this?’ asked Cross.
‘About a year ago, I’d say.’
So around the time of the money appearing, Cross and Ottey were both thinking.
‘Anything else?’ asked Ottey.
‘I don’t think so.’
‘You will call us if anything comes to mind?’ she said.
‘Of course.’
As they turned to leave, he said, ‘Actually, now I come to think about it, there was one thing which struck me as odd. There’s a coffee shop just off Park Street where we often get coffees. I was in there one lunchtime about a week or so before Ed was killed, and he was in there with the last person I’d ever expect him to be with.’
‘Who?’ asked Ottey.
‘Nigel Simpson. He worked at Carnegie Books, Denholm Simpson’s son,’ he went on.
‘We know who he is,’ Ottey assured him.
‘I knew they’d been friends when they were kids. Weren’t they cousins, in fact? But with all the recent problems with Carnegie it did surprise me. The word was that Nigel was the voice behind all the Carnegie vitriol in the trades. I mean, I thought he was like the devil incarnate to Ed. And here they were having coffee, as if nothing had happened. I was very surprised,’ he said.
‘Did you ask Ed about it?’ asked Cross.
‘I did not. It didn’t seem to be any of my business.’
It was of interest to the two police officers in the light of Simpson having just told them he hadn’t seen Ed Squire in years.
As they left the building, Persephone appeared. It was as if she felt she’d missed out with the police officers not dropping in on her.
‘DS Cross,’ she called after them. They stopped as she came over. ‘I have the receipt for the book.’
‘Which book?’ asked Ottey.
‘The one bought by the Russian?’ asked Cross.
‘Yes. Shall I email it to you?’
‘Yes,’ replied Cross getting into the car.
‘Thanks, Persephone. You still have my card?’
‘I do.’
‘Send it to that email then. Thanks.’
Persephone looked a little deflated. Like someone saying a reluctant goodbye to friends leaving after a great weekend and realising they’d actually spent no time with them at all. She watched them drive off with her hands on her hips, as if resigned to having missed an opportunity.