New Directions (12)

Barry Stokes isn’t easily fazed. I was banking on him figuring out how to make a few quid from my visit. Word would already be out. Pretty soon something would crawl out from under a stone and start asking around. I needed to find out who was doing the asking. A second visit wasn’t out of the question.

***

Next morning around eight-thirty a message arrived asking me to meet Dev in Daniels head office at ten. Tring is the sort of town that typifies “twee.” A narrow high street lined with Edwardian faux Tudor buildings courtesy of the Rothschild family and average house prices at over half a million. The cosy affluence is a magnet for Estate agents, solicitors and financial advisors. Daniel &Sons head office was tagged onto the rear of a massive estate agents office, which I now knew was part of the same group.

I don’t have a problem with Tring other than trying to find a place to park the motor. Lucky for me Dev had negotiated the use a few places in the hotel car park opposite during office hours. Walking the hundred odd metres over to Dev’s I continued to mull the question that bothered me on the drive over – should I tell him about the robbery? If Dev had managed to track down this worm David or his accomplice they’d certainly be connected some way to the outfit Barry mentioned. I chose to play it by ear.

Just as I was about to enter the office another message filled with smiley faces and lines of hearts arrived. In four days Karen was coming down. I huffed. The last thing I wanted to do was screw up the weekend we’d both been looking forward to for three weeks.

The receptionist, a scrawny sour faced woman in her forties who disliked me as much as I loathed her nodded towards a door behind her. ‘Mr Mullar has been waiting for you since nine a.m.,’ she lied.

‘So you got here on time for a change, eh, Maggs?' She opened her mouth about to say, my name is Margaret, but changed her mind. We’d grown bored of our game. I’d only been to the office three times. From day one it was hate at first sight.

‘Who employed that Hyena on the reception desk, Dev? I said as I entered the room and instantly wished I’d kept my mouth shut. Sitting opposite him and out of sight behind the door two figures stared at me. After an awkward silence Dev introduced them as Christine Holmes office manager and Julian Niels assistant accountant. I bluffed it out, the damage (if any) was done.

 ‘As you know, Mr. James has uncovered a rather unpleasant situation with a private tenant of mine which could put Daniels & Son in a difficult position.’ I had to admire the way Dev fielded the humiliation away from him.

Drawing up a spare chair I created a small semicircle around Dev’s desk. There was no point in holding back, ‘Have you uncovered anything?’

Julian, whose blonde crewcut made him look as Scandinavian as his name looked to Dev and received a curt nod before he spoke. ‘Well so far none of the cheques from Miss Bowes have been cashed, but we are keeping a close eye on all future transactions. Maybe we should contact her bank and ask them to cancel the cheques? That would as least save her from losing the money.’

‘Julian and I have discussed that and I am convinced it’s the best way. We should do it immediately. The pressure of recovering lost funds would be taken out and there will be no comeback on Daniels &Sons. After that Mr Mullar can arrange with Miss Holmes to have a direct debit account and incorporate the property into his portfolio with us. It avoids embarrassment all round.’

‘Dev?’ I looked at him wanting to say, I thought you wanted to talk to people you can trust.

‘That will solve the immediate problem, Terence. It will be like it never happened. I’m even prepared to write off the lost rent.’

‘Well I guess you’d better get over to Celia’s bank ASAP. Thank you all for wasting my fucking time.’

I walked out. Dev didn’t manage to catch me up until I was just about to drive out the carpark. The thought of running him down crossed my mind before I hit the brake pedal.

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/b/b1/Tring_High_Street.jpg