Grant said nothing. He was on thin ice. He ran a search without authority, so had to keep a low profile in any case. If his dealings with Matthew were discovered, he’d be lucky just to lose his job. Data Protection being what it was, he’d probably get a prison sentence. He might be gay and enjoy the company of men, but he drew the line at prison.
“So, what do you want to do about it?” Grant asked. “You know I can’t initiate anything with my employers.”
“Nothing officially; how do I find out more about him?”
“Well, I should think there might be some press interest, certainly locally, if not nationally. You could try the local papers and radio station. All I have is that he is a US citizen with an address of a widow in America and that the body has yet to be found. I should think there might have been press interest from his home town. I suppose it depends on the sort of man he was.”
“Has he children?”
“It’s not in the report I have had access to. It’s simply a Missing Person Report - suspected suicide. It only mentions his wife as next of kin and the hotel they were staying at in Falmouth. She has returned to the States.”
“He has to be hiding somewhere, as a man that size can’t be easy to camouflage. I’ll check with the airlines, just to confirm that he was on the flights he claimed to be on.”
“I’ll see if I can initiate something through Devon & Cornwall Police. A sighting might prove quite interesting, so I’ll check the CCTV at Luton Airport.”
“What will that prove?”
“That he isn’t dead. It could be enough to reopen the case as an insurance fraud or something.”
“I don’t want the police grabbing him first. I’ll never get my property back if they arrest him.”
“You could always call the wife in America, just to see whether she’s been paid out by the insurance company. It could be they’re in cahoots, and she’s in on the scam.”
Matthew was silent as his brain started to go into overdrive. He had not been hopeful that Grant would have been able to deliver, so when he produced a photograph of the man Igor, he was as surprised as Grant had been.
Now that there was a distinct possibility that he wasn’t Russian, it was only a bonus, as Matthew had contacts in North America. However, it seems that the mystery man was probably still in Britain, for some unknown reason.
No, there was a reason – the sword. Matthew simply had to work out why the sword was a reason to make an overweight American fake his own death, force his wife to face widowhood and possibly cause hardship for his children.
What was so special about some Saxon sword?
No, correct that - a Celtic sword that had been discovered in a Saxon burial site.
“Matt?” Grant had been speaking, but Matthew had been so lost in thought; he’d not been paying attention.
“What?”
“I’ll get back, now. I’ll discreetly check the Luton airport CCTV footage. Most of it is time elapse, but if I get a good sighting of your man, then I can pass it to Devon and Cornwall. That’ll put the cat among the pigeons. I don’t expect they’ll assign anyone to it, but the coroner might be informed just to prevent him stating the man is officially dead.”
“To be honest, I’m not sure I want the police informed. If the man gets wind that his attempt to fake death has failed, he might just go to ground. The worst thing that could happen is if he were to be found and arrested. If that happens, I’ll never get my sword back.”
“It can’t hurt to look. If I find him, I’ll let you know, and then, depending on how I get on, I’ll leave it a bit before submitting a sighting report. I have to do something to justify my checking. The chances are the picture might not be good enough to categorically say it’s him.”
Matthew nodded.
“I’m grateful, Grant. Once this is over, I shall ensure you are duly rewarded.”
Grant grunted.
“Hmph, it could be by giving me a job when I get fired.”
Chapter Fifteen
Sergeant Graham opened the door to the briefing room and looked at the six officers waiting to be assigned their patrols.
He sat at the desk and read out the list of shoulder numbers and what they were due to be posted for the day.
Then, he read out the briefing notes, including the updated stolen car list and recent warrants. Finally, he dismissed them, calling back PC John Lindsay.
“John, I have a job for you. Do you remember your American suicide?”
“Hard not to, sarge.”
The sergeant passed him a single sheet of paper.
“Bedfordshire seem to have made a hit on a CCTV camera at Luton Airport. It seems that Mr Tanner might not be fish food after all.”
John looked at the grainy photo that was a single still from not very clear time-elapse CCTV footage. It showed a large, heavy-set male in dark clothing. The man had long dark hair tied back in a pony-tail. He was carrying a dark pilot’s case and what appeared to be an instrument case.
“This could be anyone, sarge.”
“No, it is a big, fat man who might or might not be our Mr Tanner. It is not female, so that excludes fifty percent of the human race. He’s over forty but under sixty, so that excludes another huge chunk of the population. He’s Caucasian, so that narrows it further. He is similar to our Mr Tanner, so we need to bottom it out. Take it to the B&B, and see if anyone can say whether this is or is not our Mr Tanner.”
“Okay sarge, but I don’t think this can be him.”
Sergeant Graham rolled his eyes.
“You’re not paid to think, but to do. Let the evidence do the work. If they say that this isn’t him, we can tell Bedfordshire that it isn’t our man. If there is any doubt, then we have to assume that Mr Tanner might not be dead, okay?”
“How about the Americans?”
“What about them?”
“Shouldn’t we ask them to check?”
“Not our problem, boy. I have no idea whether he’s committed any offences in Luton, but if he has, then they can do it.”
“And if he hasn’t done anything in Luton?”
“Then, it depends of what our witnesses say. But you can forget about travelling to New Jersey, because that just isn’t going to happen. We’ll send a copy of this to the Americans and let them follow it up.”
“If it does turn out to be him, what will happen?”
“Well, he’ll probably get done for wasting police time, for starters.”
“Yes, but I met the wife, and to be honest, I’d have done the same thing. She’s a bloody nightmare, sarge.”
“Again, lad, you’re not paid to assume anything. Just go and do what I told you to do.”
“Right, sarge. Is there any chance we can check with Luton to see if they want him in connection with a crime?”
“When you get back with your witness’s statement, then you can ring them and ask them.”
“Deep joy. Who’s the contact?”
The sergeant looked at the message.
“I think it’s a civilian operator at their HQ. They probably routinely check CCTV for known criminals, and when our photo came up as a possible match, they followed it up. If it is a civvy, then it is probably not linked to a crime at their end.”
“Okay Sarge.”
Mary was surprised to see the policeman. At first, she thought he might have come to ask Tamsyn out, as he seemed quite smitten with her earlier.
When he explained and showed her the photograph, she was surprised, gain.
“Oh, it’s not very clear, is it?” she said.
“No, it isn’t. Is this him?”
“I only saw him a couple of times, and they were both only for a very short time. I don’t remember his hair being that long. He wore jeans and an old shirt, so this man is in a trendy looking suit. He looks slightly thinner, too. I’d say it probably isn’t him, but I’m not really positive.”
“Did anyone else see him; like Tamsyn?”
“Oh, no, she wasn’t here until after he disappeared. She met the wife, though.”