John Eider - Late of the Payroll

‘About five I think. Yes, it must have been, because I had to call my agency just after.’

‘And did he say if he was up to anything that evening?’

‘No. I don’t think he did.’

‘He’s not always the most communicative, is our Tom,’ the older woman cut in. ‘He’s a lovely lad, don’t get me wrong. But you’re not always sure what he’s thinking.’

‘And how did he seem to you before he left?’ Cori wanted Cynthia’s impressions before moving to her partner.

‘He just seemed normal.’

‘And in general, workwise?’

‘Well, he was a bit… you know, but no more than normal on a payroll week.’ Her words, spoken down at the floor and through that parted veil of hair, were barely audible.

‘Payroll?’

‘Oh, the payroll.’ This was the older woman again, seemingly no more comfortable than her colleague, but eager to talk. ‘Tom always runs the payroll on the last week in the month.’

‘What that was he doing just before he left?’

‘Since Monday, yes. It runs him ragged, doesn’t it Cynth? He takes it on his shoulders. He’s a very hard worker.’

Cori’s pencil flickered across the pages of her notebook.

‘And what was your name, Mrs..?’

‘Gail, Gail Marsh. Senior Administrator.’

‘So he is usually very reliable?’

‘Oh, he is that. Lovely lad, lovely to work with. You never have to worry about him, you know? Not like some of these young ones, off for cigarette breaks, chatting up the girls, half of my time spent trying to keep track of them. So shy though. He wouldn’t say boo to a goose; and the factorymen are devils with him. I think that’s why he likes it up here. We look after him though, don’t we Cynthia? We send them away with a flea in their ear if they give him any gyp.’

‘So he was working on the payroll this week; and was that what kept him here late on Monday, Mrs Marsh?’

‘Yes, he may have stayed on an hour or two after me. Perhaps till six or seven?’ Gail looked to Cynthia for confirmation, but the girl could offer none.

‘Would anyone else have been working that late, Mr Aubrey perhaps?’

‘Oh no, he wasn’t there at that time — he’s been in and out of the office a lot lately; meetings, you know.’

‘So would anyone have been here who might have seen him leave; just so we can follow his movements?’

Gail Marsh suddenly looked worried. ‘Well, you can see,’ she made a sweeping gesture with her arm, ‘we’re rather thin on the ground at the moment. What with the holidays, and the sunny weather.’

‘Yes, I did notice the empty rooms.’

‘Oh, they’re being emptied to be redecorated. Don’t pay any attention to them.’

Cori didn’t need her experience in the job to tell her when she was being lied to, and by one so poor at it. But it was a good lie, a kind lie, a joshing, covering lie. The woman had pride in Aubrey’s, and in her colleagues, and didn’t want the cracks to show behind their wallpaper.

Into the second’s silence Cori’s cogitating caused, young Cynthia, sad throughout, had produced a hankie and looked ready to resume the tears of earlier that day.

‘Poor love. You’ve had a horrible morning, haven’t you pet,’ Gail burst in. ‘I could curse myself, picking this morning to take poor Reggie to the vets,’ lamented the older woman.

Knowing this was an area the Inspector would be sure to have wanted her to have asked about, Cori took her chance,

‘So, Cynthia, Mrs Long told me you had spoken to Mrs Aubrey this morning?’

‘Yes, she was upset too.’

Speaking slowly and directly to Cynthia, Cori asked her to try and remember just what Mrs Aubrey had said, without thinking about the things that made her upset; no feelings, just the words.

‘Well,’ the girl began hesitantly, ‘she was trying to be calm at first, talking as if Mr Aubrey might just be a bit late in. But then she was sobbing and saying, “he’s hurt, he’s hurt.” And then… she got a bit more upset, and I didn’t know what to do.’

‘You’re doing brilliantly, keep going,’ Gail encouraged, before saying herself,

‘But the upshot of it all is he’s gone straight of to London today, when if I’m honest, we could have done with him being right here,’ a glance around the room bare of people making clear her feelings.

‘So, what’s he like to work for?’ continued Cori.

The women looked at each other in uneasy silence.

‘Please don’t think you’re betraying anyone by answering,’ the Sergeant plugged on. ‘Have there any difficulties with the staff lately, any arguments, disputes with the boss?’

But still there was no answer.

‘There must be something,’ Cori urged. ‘Grumbles, whispers, gossip on tea breaks?’

‘Well, I’m sure it is the same at companies the world over,’ answered Gail Marsh at last, slightly defensively though, as if Cori herself with her questions wished to drive a wedge into the heart of their company unity. ‘There will always be someone saying something about the management. Mr Aubrey is a good boss, firm but fair. He’s always done right by us.’

Cori decided to risk it, the one last big question, ‘So, there’s no truth then in the rumours of job cuts?’

‘And who’s been rumouring that, I wonder?’ Gail Marsh was on the warpath now. ‘I learnt long ago not to trust half of what people say they know about such things as they weren’t in the boardroom themselves to hear.’

No closer to knowing if the men in the pub really lost their jobs, and sure that this line of questioning was getting her nowhere, Cori returned to safer ground,

‘What would really help us is if you could tell me some more about Thomas.’

‘Of course,’ assented Gail, her tone instantly lightening.

‘So, how long have you worked with him?’

‘Oh, I’ve been here forever it feels like. Cynthia’s been here about two months, isn’t it love?’

The girl nodded in agreement.

‘You’re helping us out, aren’t you,’ said Gail to Cynthia, before turning back to Cori. ‘All the other girls left, claimed they were being worked to hard, but Cynthia here’s been a little Godsend; does the work of two others, doesn’t mind staying over.’

‘And so Thomas has worked here a while now?’

‘Five or six years. Started as a boy. I think it’s the only job he’s ever had.’

‘And has Tom always had his same job here?’

‘Yes, he runs the office with me, but he’s the best on the computers. Between you and me, Alex Aubrey wouldn’t know one end of a laptop from the other.’

‘And in that time has Tom had any troubles or issues?’

‘Tom? No, never. Straight as a die. The only trouble he ever has is when any of the lads downstairs get restless… and as I say, that’s just in fun.’

‘And does he see it as fun?’

‘Well, perhaps not as much as the lads do, but it’s very rare and if I’m here I send them off.’

‘Has anything like this happened in say the last couple of weeks?’

‘You know… well it wasn’t anything really.’

‘Go on,’ urged Cori, intrigued.

‘Well as I say, Tom always gets a bit stressed when its payroll week, the last in each month.’

‘Tell me a bit about that.’

‘Well, he’s the best with the computers. Alex hasn’t got a clue, and I’m not much help I’m afraid. But he’ll be head down over the keyboard, making sure he gets it exactly right, because if he gets it wrong…’

‘The staff aren’t paid enough?’

‘Or too much, which is just as bad.’

‘And this has happened before?’ Cori guessed so from Gail’s tone.

‘Yes, about a year ago. Tom doesn’t make many mistakes, but when he did, wow. He somehow paid a whole team — about thirty men — two months’ salary instead of one. It went through on their payslips, and the bank transfers had happened before we discovered it. He was so embarrassed. We told them right away, but a few of the men made a play of not wanting to give the extra back. Alex had to step in and tell them to stop playing silly beggers; and it was only that Tom would have taken a rollicking so badly that held Alex back from giving him one.’