J. Gregson - Brothers

‘No. I’m six years younger than him. That meant we were never particularly close. We had different talents and different interests. He was already the great rugby player back in Ireland when I was still a schoolboy.’

‘I see. But James made a successful business career. He was quickly in charge of his own business and it rapidly diversified.’ Peach paused for a second on the word, allowing it an ironic ring, studying the man’s reaction. ‘You didn’t feel inclined to join him and make it a family business? Or perhaps James didn’t want you working with him?’

‘I could have had work with Jim if I’d wanted it. I decided I didn’t.’

The younger man had almost no trace of an Irish accent, whereas the dead man had seemed almost to cultivate it, both in his rugby days and in his later business dealings. ‘And why did you decide that?’

O’Connor looked for a moment as if he would refuse to answer. Then he folded his arms and said deliberately, ‘I suppose I decided I wanted to make my own way in life. It was easy enough for me to do that. My Dad had made money by the time I was ten or eleven. I wasn’t educated in Ireland, like Jim. I was sent to Stonyhurst College in England as a boarder. I grew up with the Jesuits.’

He jutted his chin a little, as if challenging Peach now to follow this up. Instead the DCI said quietly, ‘You’ve made it clear that you hadn’t much in common with James. It sounds almost as if you didn’t like him.’

This time his man did react. O’Connor said irritably, ‘This isn’t relevant. You’re supposed to be finding out who killed Jim, not running a lonely hearts column. You appear pretty baffled, so far.’

Peach was not at all put out. He gave Dominic O’Connor one of the more enigmatic of his vast range of smiles. ‘When I was a young copper, my first inspector said to me, “If you can’t find a solution, always come back to the family”. You’d be surprised how often he’s been right over the years. I can assure you that the sort of relationship you enjoyed with your brother is extremely relevant to this enquiry.’

‘You mean that if I wasn’t close to Jim I become a suspect.’

‘I mean that your complete frankness would not only be appreciated but would be much the best policy for you. Any attempt at deception in a murder enquiry would be ill-advised; it would excite suspicion. That much will be obvious to an intelligent man with a Jesuit education.’ This time Peach’s smile had a hint of impish enjoyment.

Dominic O’Connor ran a hand swiftly through his rather untidy fair hair. His brown eyes glittered, but he spoke evenly enough. ‘Jim and I were never close. I could have worked with him — for him — but I had other options. He thought I was a Puritan, I thought he was too much of a Cavalier.’

‘You mean he took short cuts in his business affairs.’

‘I wouldn’t have put it like that. But yes, he was a little too free and easy for my tastes. He made rapid progress, but to my mind he was a chancer. We had different temperaments, I suppose. But he could laugh at me and what he called my caution. He expanded quickly. As you say, he diversified.’ This time it was Dominic O’Connor who gave the word a slight ironic emphasis.

‘You’re an accountant, I believe.’

‘I’m a financial manager in a smallish firm. But the basis of that is accountancy, yes.’

‘But you don’t believe in cutting corners.’

‘I believe in operating within the law. I may not have moved as far or as fast as Jim, but I’m successful in my own way.’

‘I imagine these different attitudes must have led to a lot of tension between the two of you.’

‘You shouldn’t imagine, DCI Peach. You should confine yourself to facts. And the fact of this matter is that Jim and I got on perfectly well with each other. We’d agreed to go our separate ways and we didn’t spend much time in each other’s houses. But our wives got on perfectly well — probably better than Jim and I did. We’ve met up mainly on family occasions, over the last few years, but we got on quite adequately with each other.’

‘“Quite adequately”. That is a strange phrase for brothers.’

‘But well chosen, I think. It implies a lack of passion. You need passion to kill a man the way my brother was killed.’

‘Or a good reason.’

‘All right, or a good reason. As I had neither of these, you can conclude that I did not kill my brother.’

‘So who did, Mr O’Connor?’

‘Surely that’s for you to discover. With the vast range of resources available to the police service.’

‘And the full and intelligent cooperation of those civilians in a position to help us. That’s why I’m asking you who you think killed your brother.’

‘I’ve no idea. I’ve given it plenty of thought, but I’m no nearer to an answer than I was when it happened on Monday night. And before you say that I must have some ideas, I would remind you that we’ve spent some time establishing that I was no longer in close touch with either Jim or his associates.’

Peach gave the tiniest nod to Northcott. The detective sergeant cleared his throat and said formally, ‘Where were you at the time of this death, Mr O’Connor?’

Dominic looked at the dark, unrevealing features as if he suspected a trap. ‘As I understand it, no one knows the precise moment of death. When the interval was announced, I left my chair and moved across the room to speak with my niece, my sister’s daughter. Even you may well conclude that was an innocent mission, since Alison is thirteen.’

Clyde Northcott made a note and remained impassive. ‘And did you then return to your seat?’

Dominic O’Connor regarded him steadily for a moment, his brown eyes alert, assessing. Then he said sardonically, ‘Not immediately, no. I moved around, chatted to one or two people I knew. Then I went to the Gents’ and did the same thing in there. I also had a pee.’

‘How long were you missing from the main banqueting hall?’

‘You mean did I have the opportunity to creep outside and commit fratricide, don’t you? That’s the word for it, you know, in case coppers don’t have a Jesuit education.’ In his wish to score a meaningless point, he’d almost said ‘black coppers’. That showed how carefully you needed to watch your words, that did, he told himself.

Northcott said calmly, ‘It’s a question our team will be asking of everyone who was present on Monday night. Unless we make an arrest before the process is completed, of course. Do you own a firearm, Mr O’Connor?’

‘No. I don’t need one in the sort of work I do.’

‘But you imply that your brother did. Did he carry a pistol?’

‘I don’t know. I think he might have done. I think I would have done, if I’d moved among the people he associated with and the rivals he dealt with.’ For a moment, his distaste for the dead man flared about Dominic’s lips. It was instantly dismissed.

Peach stood up. ‘In the meantime, we’d like you to go on thinking, Mr O’Connor. You’re a shrewd and intelligent man. You also know a lot of the people who were at that function better than any detective. If you have any thoughts, please ring this number: whatever you say will of course be treated in the strictest confidence.’

They’d arranged to meet and this is where it had to be. Steve Tracey didn’t like it, but he wasn’t in a position to call the shots.

The big Toyota saloon drew up alongside the murdered man’s head of security on the top of the multi-storey car park. He’d specified the spot himself. The woman on the other end of the line had gone away to consult, then returned to the phone and agreed to it. They’d determined on the multi-storey, but he’d said it must be on the top floor. Somehow, he felt more public up here; with the open air around him and the sky above him, he must surely be safer. Now he wondered whether that was so.