“Are you certain? Did you see him?”
“No, but he logged in. I mean, he has to log in with us so we know someone’s there.”
“How does he do this?”
Bennett pointed at the desk beside her. “Computer.”
“Could someone else have done it? Pretended to be him?”
“I suppose it’s possible. But they’d have to know his user name and his password.”
“I see. Was this the shift he always worked?”
“No. Other days he worked from midnight till eight in the morning.”
“Was he the only night watchman?”
“No. It works like this. Every day the units are open, we have the other security guard, Colin Finch, work four to midnight and Mr. Courage work midnight till eight, when the units start opening in the morning. Then, when we get to Sunday, they alternate. Colin does four to midnight Saturday, Charlie does midnight to eight. Then Colin does eight to four, and so on.”
“I see,” said Annie, who remembered the horrors of shift work very well indeed. Most of the time she hadn’t known whether she was coming or going. “So Colin Finch would have seen Mr. Courage when they changed shifts at four on Sunday?”
“Yes. I should think so.”
“Can you give me his address?”
“Of course.” Bennett fiddled with the computer and gave Annie a Ripon address. “He’ll be in at four today, though, if you’re still around.”
Annie looked at her watch. It was half past two. “Did you know that Mr. Courage had a criminal record?”
The question seemed to embarrass Bennett. “He had? Er, actually, no, we didn’t know.”
“Surely a security firm like yours runs checks on potential employees?”
“Normally we do. Yes, of course. But this one… well… it seems he slipped between the cracks.”
“‘Slipped between the cracks’?”
“Yes.”
“I see.” Annie made a note in her brand-new notebook. What she actually wrote was, “Don’t forget to pick up something for dinner at Marks amp; Sparks,” but Bennett wasn’t to know that. “Have there been any incidents at the park over the past few months, since Mr. Courage started working here?”
“No. Nothing at all. As far as SecuTec is concerned, Mr. Courage seemed to be doing his job well.”
“Nothing gone missing?”
“Nothing.”
“The other tenants, are they all satisfied?”
“Yes. As I said, we’ve had no problems, no complaints at all. I don’t suppose it’s something you police ever consider, but have you thought at all that Mr. Courage might indeed have gone straight, as they say? I mean, just because a man makes a couple of mistakes, it doesn’t mean he’s marked forever, does it?”
Annie sighed. This wasn’t going to work, she could tell. “Mr. Bennett,” she said, “why don’t you leave the recidivism-versus-rehabiliation argument to people who know what they’re talking about and just answer my questions?”
He smiled. “I thought that’s what I was doing. I mean, I’ve told you there were no problems. I was only suggesting that it might indicate Mr. Courage had changed his ways. You do believe that criminals can change their ways, don’t you, Detective Constable Cabbot?”
“It’s detective sergeant,” Annie corrected him, adding a silent “pillock” under her breath. “And I’m merely suggesting that we’ll get you back in your Beemer and on your way to your next meeting much faster if you simply answer my questions.”
Bennett fiddled with his mobile, as if hoping it would ring. “Carry on,” he said, with a drawn-out, long-suffering sigh.
Annie smiled to herself. He would no doubt tell his guests at tonight’s dinner party or whatever about his brush with police brutality. “What exactly were his duties?” she asked.
“He was supposed to walk around the park, check doors and everything once an hour. To be honest, though, it wasn’t much of a job; there wasn’t a lot for him to do.”
“I shouldn’t think so with all these modern security gizmos. Why bother hiring a night watchman at all, then?”
“It was a matter of appearances, really. The tenants like it. Believe it or not, no matter how many sophisticated alarm systems you put in place, people always feel a bit more confident if there’s human being around.”
“That’s comforting,” said Annie. “I don’t suppose I need to worry about Robocop much anymore.”
“Sorry?”
“A joke. Never mind. Carry on.”
“Oh, I see. A copper with a sense of humor. Anyway, having someone on the premises discourages vandals, too.”
“What about a dog?”
“They can be effective, but you can’t just leave them alone. Besides, there’s the whole problem of lawsuits if they actually bite anyone.”
“How did Mr. Courage get the job?”
“He applied through normal channels. I must say, he seemed credible enough.”
“The mark of a master criminal.”
“You’re joking again?” Bennett smiled.
Annie didn’t smile back. “Mr. Courage was paid by check, am I correct?”
“Actually, no. His wages were paid directly into his bank account.”
“Were there ever any cash bonuses?”
Bennett frowned. “Cash bonuses? I don’t know what you mean.”
“Cash in hand.”
“Certainly not. That’s not SecuTec’s policy.”
“And no money has ever been reported missing by any of the businesses operating out of this park during the period of Mr. Courage’s employment as night watchman?”
“No.”
Annie closed her notebook. “Very well, Mr. Bennett,” she said. “You can go now. We might need to get in touch again later.”
“Fine. Feel free to do whatever you need here, but please remember to lock up when you leave.”
Bennett practically ran out of the office. Annie stood in the doorway and watched him reverse the BMW, then take off in what would have been a cloud of dust, had the ground not been so wet. As it was, one of the puddles he hit sent a sheet of water over a woman just walking into the needlework-center shop a few units down. She looked down at her soaked raincoat and tights and glared after the car, shaking her fist.
She shouldn’t have been quite so sharp with Bennett, Annie thought, as she watched him clear the gates and turn right onto the main road. He was a smug pillock, true enough, but she’d had to deal with plenty of those in her time, and she hadn’t usually resorted to bullying. He looked like the kind who’d put in a complaint, too. Would that have any effect on her attempt to make inspector? She doubted it. But she also made a mental note to watch herself and be a lot more compassionate toward fools and pillocks.
Now, she thought, it was simply a matter of deciding whether to go right or left and spend an hour or so talking to the people who operated the businesses at Daleview. They would probably know a lot more about its day-to-day operations than Mr. Ian bloody Bennett. After that, with any luck, Colin Finch would have reported for duty.
“Barry was very angry after you left,” Emily said, toying with, rather than smoking, another cigarette. “I’ve never seen him so angry. When he gets angry, he goes all cold. He doesn’t go red in the face and shout or anything, like Dad, he just gets this fixed sort of smile and does everything in a very slow, careful sort of way, like straightening the cushions on the settee or lighting a cigarette. And he talks very quietly. It’s frightening.”
“Do you know why he was angry?”
“Because you came asking questions. He doesn’t like anyone asking questions, especially strangers.”
“What did he do to you?”
“Barry? He didn’t do anything. I’m telling you. He was angry in that cold way he had. He just told me to get ready for the party, then we did another couple of lines of coke and off we went.”
“What kind of party was it?”
“The usual sort. Music-business people, a few minor bands, groupies, along with a few young entrepreneurs, other club owners. The kind of people Barry collects. There was a bonfire and fireworks outside, but mostly we stayed indoors.”