‘Got something, boss,’ Janey said, as they entered the incident room.
‘Yeah?’ Clare wandered over to Janey’s desk and sank down in a chair.
‘Luke Gasparini’s finances. Couple of things come to light.’
‘Go on.’
‘First of all I called a pal who works for the Met and she spoke to a contact in media circles. Seems Luke has taken a bit of a gamble on his next production.’
Clare frowned. ‘Gamble, how?’
‘He’s signed a big name for a start, half the fee up-front. And word is the production costs are spiralling out of control. So he secured a substantial loan from a third party, just over a month ago. We did see that when we checked initially; it’s not that unusual for these companies. But my pal’s contact reckons the loan will only keep them afloat for six months, tops. And once something like that gets around investors start pulling out.’
‘So he could go bust?’ Clare asked.
Janey nodded. ‘Quite possibly. Especially if the loan’s called in.’
‘This guy, Luke,’ Chris said, ‘strikes me as pretty industry-savvy. This isn’t his first big production. He’d surely have known to keep a tight rein on the finances.’
‘Could be he was banking on Russell’s investment,’ Janey said. ‘Six months would tide him over until the restaurants were sold.’
‘Then Russell died,’ Clare said.
Janey nodded. ‘Exactly. But he knows Gaby will inherit. My guess is he planned to tell her about the loan and hoped she’d repay it for him.’
‘Then Gaby announces she’s giving half the money to David and some of her share to charity. That could mean the end for Luke’s company.’ Clare sat thinking for a minute then she said, ‘Janey, who’s the lender?’
A smile spread across Janey’s face. ‘The company’s called DG Investments.’
‘DG?’ Chris said. ‘You’re joking!’
Clare shook her head slowly. ‘Doug Gerrard.’ She smiled back at Janey. ‘It’s him, isn’t it?’
‘Yep.’
‘There’s your motive, then,’ Chris said.
‘There’s more,’ Janey went on.
‘Yeah?’
‘That boarding school – they’re six months behind with the fees.’
Clare gaped. ‘Seriously?’
‘Yep.’
Chris frowned. ‘I could be wrong, but I reckon Gaby doesn’t know that.’
‘I’m sure she doesn’t,’ Clare said. ‘She told us she didn’t need Russell’s money.’
‘So Luke’s been dipping into the joint account to keep his company afloat,’ Chris said.
Clare put a hand on Janey’s desk and pulled herself to her feet. ‘Come on,’ she nodded to Chris. ‘Let’s update Tony.’
‘Just give me the gist of it, then get off home,’ Tony said. ‘Before you infect the whole damn team.’
Clare sat down and pulled her jacket round her. ‘It’s freezing in here. Why is this station always so cold?’
‘Never mind that. Where are we?’
Clare sneezed and Tony passed a box of tissues across the desk.
‘I’ll explain,’ Chris said. ‘Basically we have two different versions of events. Luke Gasparini claims Gaby and David Fox conspired to kill Russell. But David denies this. Says he’s no idea who killed Russell.’
‘And Gaby?’ Tony asked.
Clare shook her head. ‘Gaby was still pretty sleepy but her story backs up David’s.’
Tony frowned. ‘Well it would – if the two of them are in it together.’
Chris looked at Clare. ‘But we don’t believe they are. We’re waiting on DNA results that might help, though.’
‘Okay, forget Russell for now,’ Tony said. ‘What about the overdose?’
Chris said, ‘We think the diazepam tablets were fed to Gaby, probably in a pot of coffee Luke made for her.’
Tony frowned. ‘Where’s your motive?’
‘Money.’
‘Explain, please.’
Chris looked down for a moment, as though ordering his thoughts. Then he said, ‘Russell Fox planned to sell his restaurants and invest the proceeds in two projects: one with Doug Gerrard and one with Luke.’
‘So both lose out by Russell’s death?’ Tony said.
Chris nodded. ‘They do. And Luke’s in a mess with money. He’s behind with the daughter’s school fees and he’s borrowed heavily for his next TV show.’
Tony sat silent for a moment. ‘Who inherits Russell Fox’s money?’
‘Gaby,’ Chris said. ‘But she told us she doesn’t need it. In fact, she plans to split it with her brother David and to give some of her share to charity.’
‘It’s still a pretty thin motive for murder,’ Tony said. ‘If Luke told Gaby he was in a mess, she’d surely have bailed him out. Cut down on the charity donation.’
Chris shrugged. ‘She might; but Gaby strikes me as pretty shrewd. I’m not sure she’d pour money into Luke’s company if she thought it was badly managed. And they’ve a pretty expensive lifestyle, don’t forget. Never mind the school fees, there’s a flat in Belgravia – that won’t come cheap. My guess is their income’s good but it’s matched by their outgoings.’
‘Don’t forget the loan,’ Clare said.
‘What loan?’ Tony asked.
Chris smiled. ‘That’s where it gets interesting. He’s borrowed from Doug Gerrard. Six-month loan to keep the company afloat.’
‘And a guy like Luke’s no match for Doug,’ Clare said. ‘It wouldn’t be long before he came asking for his money and then Luke really would be in a mess. But if Gaby was grief-stricken enough at Russell’s death to take an overdose…’
‘She’s probably insured as well,’ Chris went on. ‘One pot of coffee and all Luke’s problems are over. He can repay Doug and still have enough to shore up his company. He might even agree to invest in Doug’s pubs as a thanks for helping him out.’
‘I’d say Luke and Doug have a pretty strong motive for getting rid of Gaby then,’ Tony said.
‘And Gaby was found half dead in a house belonging to Doug Gerrard,’ Clare added. She sneezed again.
‘Right, you,’ Tony said. ‘Home.’ He nodded at Chris. ‘The lad and I can deal with anything else that comes up. And I do not want to see you here in the morning unless you’re a whole lot better.’
‘Aye, right,’ Clare said, getting to her feet.
‘See she goes,’ Tony said to Chris.
Clare waved this away. ‘I’m going, I’m going!’
Out in the main office she was surprised to see DCI Alastair Gibson waiting for her. ‘Jim called me,’ he said. ‘Come on. I’m taking you home.’
Benjy followed Clare round the house, more subdued than usual.
‘He knows you’re not right,’ the DCI said, bringing her a bowl of soup.
She looked at the soup and her stomach turned over.
‘Try a little.’
She smiled. ‘You’ve made me chicken soup.’
‘Correction. I’ve reheated chicken soup. But it is the supermarket posh range.’ He handed her a spoon. ‘Try a mouthful.’
She took the spoon and sipped at it. It was piping hot and she winced as she swallowed. ‘Hurts.’
He nodded. ‘The paracetamol should kick in soon. Try a little more.’
She managed half the bowl then lay back on the sofa. Benjy climbed up beside her and put his head on her lap. She put a hand down to fondle his neck and he nuzzled into her. Minutes later she was fast asleep, snoring like a tractor.