With no more to be gained, Wendy left. Again, the hand of Montague Grenfell had interceded. She phoned Isaac to update him, as well as to inform Bridget. If the flat currently occupied by Kevin Solomon belonged to Gertrude Richardson, then what else belonged to her.
There was the property in Greenwich, and there was every reason to believe it belonged to Gertrude Richardson or her sister, or both. And was Gertrude as eccentric as everyone said? And what of the money and all the properties in Mavis Richardson’s name? What did Grenfell know?
It was clear that Montague Grenfell needed to be brought into Challis Street Police Station, cautioned, and given a chance to explain the truth in detail.
Chapter 14
Larry followed up on Garry Solomon’s earlier life. The evidence unfolding indicated that before 1976 he had been an honest man, but somehow he had become involved in selling drugs.
Larry visited Garry Solomon’s business before he had turned to crime. It was located down a side street in Hammersmith. The company was still involved in servicing luxury motors, attested by the Mercedes and BMWs lined up on the forecourt.
‘Garry Solomon, remember him well,’ the owner, Graham Nicholson, said. A distinguished-looking man, he spoke with the accent of the well-educated.
‘What can you tell me about him?’ Larry asked.
‘I bought this place from him back in 1976. Paid plenty for it.’
‘Good buy?’
‘It’s kept me solvent.’
‘Why did he sell it to you?’
‘No idea. He said he wanted to move on, bigger fish in the sea.’
‘What did you believe?’
‘I wasn’t concerned as to what he said, only if the business was viable. Everyone distorts the truth when they’re selling or buying.’
‘Can you speculate as to what was the truth?’
‘He was a young man. Obviously smart and a competent businessman, but he seemed to be in a hurry to set the world on fire. He was probably a little immature to be running a business such as this.’
‘Did he keep in contact?’
‘Not really. He honoured the agreement we had made: introduced me to his suppliers, his customers, and then left. I never saw him again.’
‘Did you ever wonder what had happened to him?’
‘Why? Should I have?’
‘I’m just curious. We’re tracing his whereabouts from 1976 through to 1987, that’s all.’
‘Why 1987?’
‘He died in 1987.’
‘Suspicious?’ Graham Nicholson asked.
‘He was murdered.’
‘Not a good way to end your days.’
‘Apart from that, do you have any idea where he went to?’
‘You’re pushing the memory here. It’s been many years. I vaguely remember hearing that he had fallen on hard times, but apart from that, there’s not much I can tell you.’
Larry returned to Challis Street Police Station. Montague Grenfell was due within the next hour, and Isaac wanted him to be present in the interview room with him.
***
Montague Grenfell arrived at Challis Street at 3 p.m. He was not in a good mood and felt the need to verbally abuse Isaac.
In his usual manner, Isaac shrugged off the lawyer’s rhetoric. As the senior policeman involved in the murder of Garry Solomon, he had a job to do, and whether Montague Grenfell was pleasant or abusive made little difference.
Isaac opened the interview with Grenfell, following all the procedures. Isaac sat on the right-hand side of the table, with Larry on his left. Grenfell sat on the other side, facing Isaac. He had not brought additional legal representation.
Detective Chief Superintendent Goddard watched from outside. He had made a special trip to come and see Isaac. The case of the body in the fireplace was not occupying the media, except on an infrequent basis. The fickle public had been diverted by world events, terrorist activity in the north of England, and the inclement and unseasonal weather in the country.
‘Mr Grenfell, there are anomalies in statements that you have made to me,’ Isaac said.
‘I have always been truthful when asked.’ Isaac realised it was Grenfell’s predictable reply. A man who, by his own admission, looked out for the Richardson family’s interests, even if that meant obscuring the truth from the police during a murder investigation.
‘According to Gertrude Richardson’s grandson, you supplied him with a flat in Hampstead.’
‘That is correct.’
‘When I asked you on a previous occasion, you denied any knowledge of Garry Solomon’s family.’
‘That is correct.’
‘Why did you not tell me?’
‘Firstly, you had asked me in my office, not in an interview room, duly cautioned.’
‘And secondly?’
‘The son has no recollection of his father, other than a fleeting childhood meeting when he was ten or eleven. He did not seem relevant to Garry’s murder.’
‘That is for the police to decide, not you,’ Isaac said.
‘I disagree. The son would have been thirteen or fourteen when his father was murdered. He cannot be implicated in the man’s death,’ Grenfell said. Isaac noticed that the man had tensed, almost verging on anger.
‘That may be, but it is clear that you are withholding information.’
‘If you ask formally, then I will answer. Apart from that, the Richardson family’s personal business, and by default mine, remains sacrosanct.’
‘Even when a murder has been committed?’
‘Even then.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘My family has a history stretching back for hundreds of years. English aristocracy keep their dirty linen to themselves. It is not there to be bandied across the internet and in the media.’
‘The house in Greenwich?’ Larry asked.
‘Bakewell Street?’ Grenfell sat up at the mention of Greenwich. ‘How did you find it?’
‘Last known address of Garry Solomon,’ Larry said.
‘Who owned it, owns it?’ Isaac asked.
‘Gertrude.’
‘And if she’s dead?’
‘It’s a matter for probate.’
‘In your legal opinion?’ Isaac asked.
‘I cannot answer that question.’
‘Why not?’
‘I represent the Richardson family. It is a matter for them.’
‘You mean
