Simon Kernick - The Murder Exchange

In the meeting that morning, the first ten minutes were taken up with Knox’s prime suspect, the elusive Mr Iversson, and his possible victim, the even more elusive Mr Fowler. Of Iversson there remained no sign, although his photo and details had now been distributed to all the relevant security services, so progress was expected in this quarter; but more worryingly, at least for Knox’s theory, was the fact that there didn’t appear to be anything to link him with Matthews. Capper and Hunsdon had also been digging further into Fowler’s background, and had even searched his flat, but it soon became clear, as they detailed what they’d been doing and who they’d been speaking to, that they hadn’t found out anything that wasn’t known already. Effectively, things hadn’t moved on.

Knox then casually dropped a bombshell. Jean Tanner, he said, had turned up safe and well, and had told DI Burley that she and Craig McBride had been experimenting with heroin and that McBride had taken an accidental overdose. ‘Apparently she panicked, put him in a cupboard and fled her home, going up north for a few days. She thought everything would die down, which I know was a bit stupid of her, and she got nicked when she arrived back yesterday. She’s still in custody. We’re still going to need to talk to her, of course, and Burley’s given us permission to do that later on today.’ He turned to Capper. ‘I think it’s best if you and Paul do it, Phil,’ he said. I opened my mouth to protest but Knox put a hand up to stop me. ‘I know you originally turned up the lead, John, but I think you must have rubbed Burley up the wrong way.’

‘The Pope would have rubbed him up the wrong way,’ I said, thinking that I would have put money on the fact that Burley was somewhere on the Holtz payroll. ‘All I did was ask him a few civil questions.’

‘I know, I know, but he’s a touchy sort. Let’s leave it at that, eh?’

We moved on, and now it was my turn to explain the poisons lead. I went through what I’d discovered, trying to ignore the occasional quizzical looks from Capper and Hunsdon, and even Knox, as I detailed the background to the Bosnian conflict and its connections with Britain, and ultimately with organized crime in the form of the Holtzes. ‘I’ve emailed the photograph of Merriweather and this soldier down to Malik, along with the article, and I’ve asked him if he can find out the identity of the soldier and get someone who can translate it. The words Contracts International appear in the article so I think it’s fair to say there’s some link between them and the Holtzes. I haven’t been able to get anything on the company as yet, but I want to look into it a bit more closely.’ No one said anything for a moment; they all looked like they were thinking. Quite what was anyone’s guess. ‘Look, I know it’s a long shot, but I spent three hours hunting down information on this sort of poison, and the only place I could find where it was used before was in Bosnia. And there’s definitely a link between Bosnia and the Holtzes, and also a possible link between the Holtzes and Shaun Matthews.’

‘Well, go that route for the moment, John,’ said Knox, not sounding too confident that anything would come from it, ‘and keep me and Phil posted on what turns up.’

‘I’m not sure, guv,’ said Capper. ‘It looks like it could be another red herring. Maybe it’d be better if John and Dave went to see Jean Tanner, as it was their lead. We’ve got quite a lot of other things that need doing.’

But Knox wasn’t keen on that idea. ‘No, it’d be better if you and Paul did it, Phil. Much better.’

Capper nodded, but didn’t look too pleased. I wondered again if he really had been a customer at Heavenly Girls, and couldn’t help but think how amusing it would be if Jean Tanner had been one of the women whose services he’d used. It would make for an interesting meeting even if it didn’t help us too much. I was pretty certain Jean knew a lot more than she was letting on. The thing was, nothing about her story smelled right. No one had said anything about her being a smack addict, and there’d been absolutely nothing in McBride’s demeanour or appearance when we’d questioned him to suggest that he was one either. And if he’d OD’d, why hadn’t she? I could have done with questioning her, but instead I’d have to make do with getting hold of interview transcripts and pushing Knox to find out what he could from Burley.

The meeting broke up shortly afterwards and I brought Berrin further up to date with my extracurricular enquiries as we sat at our desks. He also looked vaguely sceptical and said something about it all sounding ‘a bit obscure’, but, in the absence of anything else, I was determined to press ahead with what I had. The important thing initially was for us to track down Martin Leppel, the man who could tell us more about Contracts International. I got Berrin to check police records and liaise with Special Branch and the NCIS to see if they had anything on him, while I phoned round journalist contacts to see if any of them could dig up an address.

It didn’t take long to strike gold. Roy Shelley, a local scribe who was well known to the station’s CID, had taken barely half an hour to come up with the goods. Now a leading reporter on one of the nationals, he told me that Contracts International had been disbanded in 1997 after some financial irregularities and an unwelcome TV investigation into alleged illegal arms shipments to Liberia, but that Leppel was now running an outfit called Secure Consultants from an office in Moorgate. I wrote down the address and telephone number.

‘Apparently it deals with much the same thing as Contracts did,’ Roy told me. ‘Supplying ex-soldiers abroad to provide training for the natives, and also hostage negotiators for kidnappings and the like. It’s much smaller than Contracts was, and I think it’s probably a lot more above board as well. Leppel got his fingers burnt last time. He hasn’t got a record as such, but he came close to it.’

‘Any information on what he’s like?’ I asked. ‘Is he a crook?’

Shelley chuckled. ‘Now if I answer that, I might be done for slander. How come you want to know anyway?’

‘I might have a story for you.’

‘A good one?’

‘I’m not sure. But I promise if anything comes of it you’ll be the first to know.’

‘That’s what I like to hear. To answer your question, he’s not a hundred per cent kosher, but from what I understand he’s not an out-and-out villain either. He’s like a lot of people, Mr Gallan. Tries to stay on the right side of the law because it’s easier that way, but doesn’t let it stand in the way of a money-making opportunity.’

I thanked him and, after promising once again to inform him immediately if a story presented itself, rang off.

‘All right, Dave, we’ve got him,’ I said, and rang the number Shelley had given me.

It was answered on the third ring by a well-spoken male voice, stating the company’s name. I asked to speak to Martin Leppel. ‘Speaking,’ came the crisp reply.

I introduced myself and explained why I was phoning. ‘I’d like to have a chat with you with regard to one of your former employees at Contracts International.’

‘Contracts was wound up years ago,’ he answered brusquely, clearly not wanting to waste time speaking to the police.

‘I’m aware of that, sir, but you may have information that would be of use to us. It’ll only take up ten minutes of your time.’

‘I don’t see why I should help, DS Gallan, since the police have never done anything to help me. Most of the time I’m being harassed by members of Scotland Yard who appear to have bugger all better to do than try to ruin the reputations and livelihoods of perfectly respectable businessmen.’