Luke Delaney - The Keeper

‘DI Sean Corrigan, and this is DS Donnelly. We have a few questions I think you can help us with.’

‘If you’re here to arrest a member of staff you need to speak to the Post Office investigation team. I don’t want to get involved in any of that. If I do, their union will string me up and hang me out to dry, you understand?’

‘We’re not interested in any member of staff who may have been nicking credit cards or cash sent in the post by Grannie Whoever. There’s no need to get the Post Office investigation people involved,’ Donnelly told him.

‘Then why are you here?’

‘Watched much telly lately? Read any newspapers, Mr …?’ Donnelly continued.

‘Leonard Trewsbury, supervisor here, and if you’re asking whether I know what’s happening in the world then the answer is yes.’

Sean sensed an intelligence in the man’s eyes and an integrity in the way he held himself. ‘Then you’re probably aware that a couple of women were abducted last week. One of whom was subsequently found murdered?’

‘I saw it,’ Trewsbury answered. ‘A terrible thing, but terrible things happen in this world, don’t they? You gentlemen would know that better than most, I suppose.’

Sean found himself liking the man, his planned approach changing from aggression and threats to one of cooperation. ‘I need your help with something — something that could save a life, maybe two.’

‘Two?’ Trewsbury asked. ‘Then by the very nature of what you’ve just said, the man you are looking for must have abducted another woman?’

‘Unfortunately, yes,’ Sean confirmed.

‘What do you need from me?’

‘Access to your work records, employee details, unexplained absenteeism.’

‘I can’t show you that without a Production Order, and even then I’d have to speak to the Board of Directors. I can’t just give you access to that kind of information.’

‘I don’t have time to go through the proper channels,’ Sean told him. ‘One of the women he’s holding probably has less than forty-eight hours to live unless we find her. Her name is Louise Russell and she doesn’t deserve to die because of bureaucracy.’ The three men stared silently at each other for several seconds before Sean spoke again. ‘Anything you tell us will be off the record. It’ll never come out that we even spoke to you. Tell us what we need to know and we’ll find a way to make it look like the information came from someplace else, I promise. But I can’t walk out of here without information that could save lives, just because I don’t have a piece of paper with a judge’s signature on it. I can’t do that.’

Trewsbury considered this for a moment. ‘No, I don’t suppose you can. So, what do you want to know?’

Sean handed him a piece of paper pulled from his coat’s inside pocket. ‘These are the addresses the women were taken from. I need to find out who works those routes.’

‘Hold on a second,’ said Trewsbury. ‘I’ll need to log on to the system to find that out.’ He tapped the postcodes into the keyboard on his desk and waited a few seconds. ‘These addresses are on different routes, covered by three different guys: Mathew Bright, Mike Plant and Arif Saddique.’

‘Have you had problems with any of them?’ Sean asked.

‘No. They’re all good workers, keep themselves to themselves.’

‘Have they ever covered each other’s routes — say, if one of them was sick or on holiday, for instance?’

‘That information’s not going to be in the system, I’m afraid. There would be a paper trail, but it could take days to trace and cross-reference. I’ll do it for you if you still want to know, but I can’t do it straight away.’

‘I haven’t got that sort of time.’ Sean rubbed his temples with his middle fingers. ‘What about yesterday? Who covered the address in Streatham?’

‘Mathew Bright,’ Trewsbury answered unhesitatingly. ‘Same as he always does.’

‘How can you be so sure?’ queried Donnelly.

‘I was here yesterday and so were these three guys. No one covered for any of them.’

‘But this would have been in the afternoon,’ Sean told him, ‘some time after 2 p.m. That’s a bit late for post to be delivered.’

‘Not here it’s not,’ Trewsbury said. ‘We’ve got such a backlog we’re permanently paying guys overtime so they can catch up on deliveries, and yesterday was no different. Mathew was working all the way up to six o’clock.’

‘Tell me about him,’ said Sean. ‘Tell me about Mathew Bright.’

‘He’s not the man you’re looking for,’ Trewsbury insisted. ‘I’ve known him for years. He’s a straightforward family man who likes a pint with the boys every now and then. He’s as predictable as he is unintelligent.’

‘What does he look like?’ Sean asked.

‘He’s white, in his forties, a big man …’

‘It’s not him,’ Sean stopped him. ‘What about the other two? What do they look like?’

‘Plant is white and Saddique is obviously Asian, both in their fifties …’

Sean cut him off again. ‘In their fifties?’

‘I would say so.’

‘Then it’s not them either.’

‘Anything else you want me to try?’ offered Trewsbury.

‘Is there anyone who works here who’s given you cause for real concern — strange behaviour, violent outbursts, reclusive, secretive?’ Sean asked.

‘Hundreds of people work here, some for years, others only last a few days. Full-time employees, casual workers — we have them all. There are plenty who aren’t exactly angels, but no one’s ever given me real trouble, nothing I can’t handle. There’s a group think they run the place, give the other workers a hard time now and again, but they’re just shop-floor bullies, all bark and no bite. Nobody here strikes me as the type to do what you’re talking about. I’d like to think that if there was, I’d be able to tell.’

‘Not always that easy,’ Sean told him. ‘Do you have photographs of the men that work here?’

‘Yes.’

‘Can I see them?’

‘I want to help, Inspector, but I can’t let you do that. If I start pulling up employee records, someone somewhere is going to work out it was me that gave you unauthorized and frankly illegal access. I’m sorry, but I just can’t do it.’

‘OK, but if it was something more subtle would you help me? Something no one could trace. Something off the computer system.’

‘I’m listening.’

‘I’m looking for someone who’s worked all three of those routes at one time or another during the last twelve months or so. Maybe they were his routes or maybe he was just filling in. There’d be a paper trail of that, right?’

‘There would.’

‘Can you do that for me? Will you check the paper trail?’

‘It’ll take a couple of days.’

‘I know, but will you do it?’

Trewsbury paused a few seconds, exhaling before speaking. ‘I’ll do it, but if anyone says I did, I’ll deny it.’

‘Fair enough.’

‘Well, if there’s nothing else, gentlemen, it appears I have a lot of work to get through.’

‘I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this,’ Sean assured him, handing him his business card. ‘Give me a ring on the mobile number as soon as you find anything, no matter what time of day.’

‘I will,’ Trewsbury promised.

‘Thanks for your time,’ said Sean, heading for the door. ‘Oh, one more thing.’ He turned back to the supervisor.

‘Go on.’

‘Have there been any reports or allegations of unusual thefts here in the last few months? Drugs or medical supplies?’

‘Why do you ask?’

‘I can’t tell you. If I could, I would, but I need to know.’

Trewsbury slowly nodded his head, the belief that he might be working alongside a man who had killed a young woman troubling him deeply. ‘A few months ago there was an incident,’ he confessed.