‘It was.’
He looked as if he were about to argue the point, but, after a quick head shake from his solicitor, changed his mind. ‘None at all.’
‘After it was leased, the van was kept where?’
‘The Bedford depot.’
‘Off the Al?’
‘The Al, right.’
‘Not at Wing?’
‘No.’
‘You do have a storage unit there?’
‘Not any more.’
‘So the van …’
‘The van would have been based at Bedford, as I said.’
‘And how many people would have had access to it there? Yourself aside.’
‘Four? Five? Possibly more.’
‘How many more?’
‘I don’t know. I can’t say for sure.’
‘Run a tight ship,’ Ramsden observed.
‘The keys to all the vans are kept in the office,’ Broderick said. ‘Other than at night, they’re not locked away.’
‘So anyone could come along, just borrow one of your vehicles?’
‘In theory, yes.’
‘In practice?’
‘In practice there’s a daily schedule, someone there in the office, logging them in and out.’
‘Twenty-four hours?’
‘Um?’
‘Logging them out, twenty-four hours a day?’
‘Obviously not.’
‘You don’t keep a check on mileage?’
‘If one of the vehicles was getting a lot of extra use it would be noticed, yes, but otherwise, no.’
‘And do they get used?’ Ramsden asked. ‘Your employees, personal use. Outside normal hours. That happens? Running the kids to the football, stuff like that?’
‘Sometimes, yes.’
‘Use them sometimes yourself?’
‘Once in a while.’
‘Recently?’
‘Not recently.’
‘You sound very certain.’
‘I am.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘I know, because apart from shifting it round the yard a couple of times, since we took delivery of that van, I doubt I’ve been behind the wheel.’
‘Well, somebody was.’
‘Yes, well. That’s sort of your problem then, isn’t it? Not mine. So if there’s nothing else …’
He glanced at his solicitor, who gave a small nod.
‘I do think,’ the solicitor said, ‘my client has helped you all he can.’
Broderick started to rise, push back his chair.
‘Ask him about Gordon Dooley,’ Cormack said in Karen’s ear.
‘Gordon Dooley,’ Karen said. ‘He’s a friend of yours?’
‘Gordon?’ Broderick hesitated, sat back down. ‘Yes, why?’
‘A good friend?’
‘Ye-es.’
‘Close.’
‘Not exactly, no.’
‘But you’ve known him a long time?’ Karen asked.
‘Since we were kids.’
‘At school together.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Since when you’ve kept in touch.’
‘Pretty much.’
‘And this friendship, how would you define it?’
‘I’m not sure what you mean.’
‘Social or what?’ Ramsden asked. ‘Drink down the pub, dinner a few times a year with the wives. Birthdays, stuff like that?’
‘Yes. Yes, that’s right.’
‘And business?’
‘What business?’
‘That’s what we’re asking you.’
‘No, not really.’
‘Joint ventures?’
Broderick shook his head.
‘Not what we’ve heard.’
‘Heard? Who from?’
‘Your wife, for one.’
‘That bitch! All she knows is the price of Botox and which delivery boy’s worth a quick fuck.’
‘That’s as maybe.’ Karen said. ‘But according to her, you and Gordon Dooley had a business relationship in the past. Probably not the kind could be traced back through Companies House.’
‘Fuck off,’ Broderick said, but without conviction.
‘You know, of course, what your friend Dooley’s business is these days?’
Broderick affected to give it some thought. ‘Some kind of buying and selling? Scrap, he was into that for a while, I know. Stripping out old houses and flogging the proceeds.’ He shrugged. ‘That kind of thing, I suppose.’
‘Drugs,’ Karen said.
‘Do what?’
‘Cannabis, amphetamines, heroin, cocaine. Take your pick. About as many outlets across the country as you’ve got for your whatever it is, chorizo and corned beef.’
‘I wouldn’t know. Didn’t know.’
‘You disapprove?’
‘His business is his business.’
‘No matter what?’
‘Look,’ Broderick aimed a finger, ‘Gordon’s breaking the law, and I’m not saying he is, your affair, not mine.’
‘We’re in danger of losing it,’ Cormack said. ‘Get back to the van.’
‘Why you?’ Karen said.
‘What?’
‘Surely you’ve got people working for you who can do jobs like that? Why did you personally go and lease the van?’
‘God! Who knows? Most probably I was there, in the area, I don’t know.’
‘And you needed another van why?’
