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‘Sir Adrian is in the garden room,’ Hazard replied. ‘Though like me, he’s wondering why you’re wasting his time.’

‘Because we get a kick out of it?’

He made an exasperated sound and led them across the vast hallway with its chandelier and polished parquet floor, through one door into a sitting room with what looked like a dining room off, then a set of glass doors into an airy conservatory filled with potted plants and wicker furniture. Brand sat pretending to read the Financial Times. He wore rimless glasses on an owl-like face. What hair he still had was slicked back across the top of his head and around his ears. His pale lemon shirt billowed, its top two buttons undone to expose tufts of silvered chest hair. While Jackie Ness’s metal Rolex had looked fake, the gold one hanging loosely around Brand’s thick wrist was almost certainly real.

Brand made a show of closing and folding his newspaper. His PR man had taken the chair to his right, leaving only a narrow sofa for Clarke and Crowther. The two women made space on it. The glass coffee table between them and Brand held a goblet emptied of fresh orange juice, a small pile of current affairs magazines, and an iPad showing a muted TV channel dedicated to Mammon.

‘Thank you for seeing us at such short notice,’ Clarke began.

Brand looked at her for the first time. ‘You say that as if I had any choice in the matter.’

‘I would imagine it’s difficult to force you to do anything you don’t want to do, Sir Adrian.’

His smile was as thin as the platinum chain around his neck. ‘Well, I suppose I was curious. It’s not every day a body turns up on land one happens to own.’

‘Especially the body of someone you knew.’

‘Sir Adrian never met Stuart Bloom,’ Hazard snapped.

Clarke kept her focus on Brand. ‘You knew who he was, though, knew the work he was engaged in for Jackie Ness?’

‘This was all gone over at the time, Inspector.’ Brand wafted a hand in front of him. ‘I got wind that Ness had employed some sort of gumshoe. My people knew that someone had tried hacking into my computer system.’

‘But you couldn’t prove who it was?’

‘I knew Ness was behind it; had my lawyers send a cease and desist notice.’

‘You didn’t go to the police?’

‘I try as best I can to take care of my own affairs. And as you’ve said yourself, I had no proof of Ness’s involvement.’

‘You didn’t think to confront Stuart Bloom?’

‘No.’

‘Or send an emissary to do it for you?’

Brand shifted a little. ‘Again, no.’

‘As part of our inquiry into Mr Bloom’s murder, we’ll be looking at original statements and interviews. Is there anything you said then that you might want to amend with the benefit of hindsight?’

‘I told the truth, Inspector, just as I’m doing now.’

‘As you say, the body was found on land you own — what do you think about that?’

‘I’ve only recently acquired Poretoun Woods.’

‘But all the same...’

Brand gave a shrug, the collar of his shirt rising as far as his ears. ‘I feel sorry for his family, obviously, even though they’ve said some poisonous things about me in the past.’

‘Libellous things,’ Hazard corrected his employer. ‘Over which Sir Adrian took no action.’

‘That’s unusual, isn’t it?’ The two men looked at Clarke. ‘I mean, you’ve never been one to shy away from lawyers and lawsuits.’

‘A man needs a hobby, Inspector.’ Brand’s smile showed a row of perfect teeth.

‘The Bloom family felt you were being protected by the police, because of you who were.’

‘They threw around all manner of wild accusations. It was a Freemasons’ plot, I was lining the chief constable’s pockets — all of it absolute nonsense.’

‘Do you still employ a chauffeur, sir?’

The change of tack didn’t quite throw Brand. ‘Not as such.’

‘How about a bodyguard?’

‘I often travel with Sir Adrian,’ Hazard butted in. Brand turned to him.

‘She means a proper bodyguard, Glenn. Ex-army, Krav Maga training.’ Then, to Clarke: ‘There’s an agency I’ve been known to use on occasion, mostly for overseas trips.’

Clarke nodded slowly, pretending to digest this. ‘Do you still have any dealings with Brian Steele and Grant Edwards?’

Brand’s brow furrowed. ‘Should I know those names?’

‘They worked for you around the time Stuart Bloom disappeared, just in their free time — their day job was as police officers.’

‘A lot of people have worked for me, Inspector.’

‘They used to drive you around, act as muscle. I’m sure if you put your mind to it, you’ll find you remember them.’

Brand eventually nodded. ‘Steele and Edwards, yes. They were with me for a short time.’

‘They were even the source of one of the Bloom family’s complaints.’

‘Were they?’

‘Seeing how both of them were attached to the missing person inquiry. Possible conflict of interest, according to Catherine Bloom.’

‘She came here, you know. More than once, actually. The gates were locked but she used the intercom, yelling at my wife.’

‘Again, you didn’t contact us?’

‘She went away eventually. I felt sorry for her, never having had a son to lose.’

‘Your wife isn’t here today?’

‘She’d have nothing to add. Cordelia has never taken an interest in my business.’

Hazard had leaned forward, elbows on knees, hands bunched into fists. ‘You’ll be asking questions of Jackie Ness, too, I trust? For the sake of parity?’

‘We’ve just come from Mr Ness.’ Clarke kept her eyes on Brand, whose own attention had drifted to stock-market listings on the TV channel. ‘Any recent hostilities between the two of you?’

‘Jackie Ness is living on past glories, such as they were,’ Brand said without looking up. ‘I’ve heard he’s about two phone calls away from bankruptcy, and not for the first time.’

‘You’re saying he’s no longer a rival?’

‘Bastard’s not big enough,’ Glenn Hazard muttered.

Brand looked up from the screen, meeting Clarke’s eyes. ‘Jackie Ness is history,’ he intoned.

‘Why did you buy Poretoun House, Sir Adrian?’

‘As an investment.’

‘And how does leaving it to rot increase its value?’

Brand’s eyes almost gleamed. ‘It got to him, didn’t it? He told you? I knew it would.’

‘That’s why you did it?’

‘Cheap at half the price.’ Brand appeared to notice Emily Crowther for the first time. ‘Do you talk or are you just here for show?’

‘I talk when I’ve got something to say,’ Crowther offered. ‘And as it happens, I do have something.’

‘Yes?’

Crowther gestured towards the potted plants. ‘You’ve got aphids. Quite a lot of them, actually.’

When the time came for them to leave, Hazard stayed on the doorstep, watching Clarke unlock the Astra and get behind the steering wheel, while Crowther climbed into the passenger side. Once the doors were closed and the engine started, Clarke asked Crowther what she thought.

‘He was lying to us. You saw it too.’

Clarke nodded. ‘About sending someone to talk to Stuart Bloom. Wonder who his PR was back then.’

‘Wouldn’t a lawyer be the more obvious choice?’

‘Maybe...’

‘You’re thinking of those two uniforms, aren’t you? Steele and Edwards?’

‘Jackie Ness has already told us they harassed him. Wouldn’t have been difficult for Brand to set them on Stuart Bloom.’