It was a line Kevin O’Connor had told people many times. Especially when dealing with elderly people living on their own in a big house, just like the one he was standing in.
“When we’ve finished trimming the branches we’ll take them all away, so you don’t have to worry. You can leave everything in our safe hands.”
After years of practice, he had it down to a fine art. If he told you bananas were pink, you’d probably believe him.
“So to do all of the work it will be £850 plus VAT. Of course, if you want to avoid paying the old VAT and all the paperwork, then we can call it £800 for cash.”
Just over an hour later Kevin tapped on the back door of the house and waited until Mrs Adams appeared and invited them in.
“There you go, Mrs Adams. It’s all done. We’ve sprayed the trees and loaded the trimmed branches into the van. Would you take a look, it’s all good now.”
Mrs Adams smiled with relief. “You’ve worked hard. I’ve just made a cup of tea if you would like one.”
As the two workers accepted her offer and sat at the kitchen table, Olivia virtually gave them her entire life story. She could talk for England.
Olivia went upstairs to her ‘secret place’ where she hid her cash. She returned with the £800 and counted out the crisp twenty-pound notes into Kevin’s hand £100 at a time. He, in turn, passed each lot to his son.
Tyson O’Connor was a chip off the old block. As dishonest and unfeeling as his father. Of course not all of the travelling community are like this. Most have a heart of gold, but a few seem to have no conscience or feelings for anyone, except their own family.
Kevin knew from the creaking of the floorboards that she kept the money in her front bedroom. That could be handy to know. During her talking marathon she had told them about her daughter in Oxford and how she would be going to stay with her for a short break the following month.
When they came in from the garden, Kevin noticed the rear patio doors were wooden and had quite a large amount of rot. It wouldn’t take much for them to succumb to his trusted crow bar. And the house had no side gate. They could be in and out in a few minutes.
The money could be Mrs Adams’s life savings that she and her late husband scrimped and scraped to save over the years. So what?
Their motto being: Family is sacred, and anyone else can go to hell.
Kevin finished his tea. “Okay, Mrs Adams. We’ll see you in a week for the next treatment.”
Another sucker reeled in, he thought.
Kevin and his son walked out to the truck standing in the driveway of Mrs Adams’s property.
Olivia went out to wave goodbye to them. It’s so nice to be able to deal with a friendly and honest local company, she thought as they drove away.
Yes, she was right to use them for the work. The sign on the side of their vehicle, exactly as she had seen it in the advert. ‘KC Landscaping Services’. Tree specialists. Special rates for elderly clients. Local family business. Telephone for a free no-obligation quote.
It didn’t say the special rates were lower or that in every case where elderly people were involved the amounts always seemed to be over five hundred pounds. Not bad when you’ve done the work, got the cash and finished the job in two hours. Or less if Kevin felt he could get away with it.
As she didn’t possess one of those awful computer things, she wasn’t aware the website gave the company address as 172 Union Road. Anyone who looked deeper would find this address belonged to a dental practice. It was an address Kevin O’Connor used in place of his real one.
Using a fake address is common practice amongst the travelling community to make people think they are a local company who can be trusted, rather than someone who would rip you off as soon as look at you. Certainly, in Trentbridge, you don’t want people to know you live anywhere near Fen Road. The other way is to use the services of an accommodation address company. It was strange how many landscaping companies listed their address as 23 King Street, the location of the local mailboxes etc. franchise.
Trading Standards had been trying to get evidence of Kevin’s activities for months. However, budget cuts meant they were overloaded with cases, and the more tricky ones were put to the bottom of the pile.
And when it comes to ‘tricky’, Kevin O’Connor was an expert.
Like many of the people on the traveller sites along Fen Road over the past couple of years, he was gradually moving out of the tarmac business and into landscaping. Nowadays it was far more lucrative.
He was well aware people would always be willing to spend money on their houses. Especially when they got elderly they could not do the jobs themselves, so they looked round for someone to undertake the work.
All you needed was a basic website. You could find photos from other sites that showed outstanding examples of work and claim they were your own. Then simply add some fake testimonials and a fake address. If you had the knowledge, you could even include what looked like a landline phone number but
