‘We have the support we need,’ Isaac said. He wasn’t about to defend himself by apportioning blame when it wasn’t correct.
‘Goddard gives you what you want?’
‘Yes, he does. I’ve known him for a long time.’
‘That man knows how to play politics, though not so successfully with Davies in charge.’
‘He knows that. And besides, you took us to task, not so much Davies.’
‘I still need a conclusion to why Amelia was murdered.’
‘And by whom.’
‘Amelia had her faults, and sometimes she’d drive me crazy. Overindulged as a child, I’m afraid, and her mother was not a good role model.’
‘There are no guarantees in bringing a child up. One of my school friends, good family, good parents, ended up knifed to death around the back of Paddington Station.’
‘Was he a good adult?’
‘He was a gang leader, no great loss to society. I grew up in a similar environment, and I ended up a policeman.’
‘Even so, I still feel some guilt about Amelia.’
‘There’s no need for guilt. You’ve given us a pasting on the radio. What can you give us by way of recompense?’ Isaac said.
‘What else is there to tell you? There are no great secrets attached to me, and Amelia was old enough to choose her own life. If my daughter were shown to be less than respectable, it would not reflect on me, and besides, I’m reaching an age where I’m ready to give it away.’
‘And do what?’
‘They’ll pay plenty for my life story, the classic rags to riches.’
‘Was it rags?’
‘Not really, but they’ll gloss over that in the editing. I grew up middle class, but people don’t want to hear that.’
‘You’ve covered that up well,’ Isaac said.
‘I’m trusting you with a lot.’
‘My confidence is guaranteed.’
‘I’ve checked you out. You have some influential admirers. I’m surprised you’re not a superintendent,’ Brice said.
‘So am I,’ Isaac said.
‘I could be the murderer.’
‘You’re not.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The deaths were not amateur, which means someone paid for your daughter’s and Christine Devon’s murders. And then, we have Christine Devon’s son being murdered, apparently because he cheated one of the gangs.’
‘You believe there is a common thread tying all the murders together?’
‘It’s a thought. Samuel Devon was involved with the gangs before his mother was murdered, and Rasta Joe, another murder victim, was a villain.’
‘What do you know about Quentin Waverley?’ Brice asked. The two men were sitting back. A dessert had been declined, coffee was on its way.
‘Amelia was frightened of him for some reason.’
‘Quentin is an ambitious man, but I respect him enormously. I would never suspect him of anything untoward, but if Amelia were frightened of him, then it would have only been for her good. He’d not harm her.’
Why?’
‘Because he still loved her. If Gwen, her so-called friend, hadn’t engineered the situation, he would have married Amelia.’
‘You know this?’
‘I observe, and besides, he told me.’
‘When?’
‘Whenever I see him. He loved both Gwen and Amelia, but Gwen made sure that he married her, and now he’s in line to take over Happold’s merchant bank.
‘What can you tell me about the father-in-law? We’ve not met him yet.’
‘You don’t want to.’
‘Why do you say that?’ The coffee had arrived, and Brice was pulling out his credit card.
‘A charming man, charming to your face. He’s the toughest banker I’ve ever come across. If he had chosen politics instead of banking, he’d have been prime minister. Mind you, he’s made plenty of money, and he’s in for a peerage in the next Honours List.’
‘Could he have been involved in the murder of your daughter?’
‘His reputation is all too important to become involved with crime.’
‘As a merchant banker, he must have come across the occasional rogue.’
‘No doubt, but Happold’s always remained detached. Plenty will admit to a grudging respect for the man, but there are others who detest him.’
‘Why detest him?’
‘Those who’ve lost their money and then found out that Happold wasn’t that accommodating. You know the adage, if you owe the bank a pound, you’re in trouble; if you owe them a million, the bank’s in trouble.’
‘He takes advantage when you are down, is that it?’
‘Not so crudely, but if you struck a deal with him, then you had to honour it. There are a few people in the city who are doing it tough because of him.’
‘Any skeletons in Happold’s cupboard?’
Brice put his credit card in his wallet and stood up. ‘I’m on the television tonight. I must go.’
‘Another diatribe about the police?’
‘Not tonight. I’d suggest you meet with Happold, but don’t expect too much. Personally, I don’t think he’s involved, although I’d not be sorry to see him go down.’
‘You’ve had problems with him?’
‘I’ve run close to the wind on a few occasions. Happold’s not the sort of man to throw a rope to someone drowning.’
‘His daughter?’
‘Like father; like daughter. She was great friends with Amelia once: clubbing, getting drunk, but after the Quentin episode, I don’t think they spoke again.’
‘Did it upset Amelia?’
‘It did, but she put on a brave face. Gwen wouldn’t have cared.’
***
Isaac was aware that time was working against him and his team. Jeremy Brice may have been agreeable over a meal, even giving him some background information on one person they had not interviewed so far, but Isaac could see that Brice was a political animal, the same as Commissioner Davies, the same as DCS Goddard, and the man was opening up for a reason.
If, as Brice had alluded, the knives were out for the commissioner, why had he told him, a DCI? Did the
