There was laughter, a general release of tension. She shouted above the noise, “I don’t know why you’re sitting there. Haven’t you got work to do? Now you can add Jeremy Preece to your list too.”
Gratefully they gathered their belongings and scuttled out of the room.
Only Joe Ashworth was left. He sat at the back and began slowly to clap his hands. “Brilliant; he said. A brilliant performance from start to finish. Now why don’t you tell me what’s really going on?”
She was flattered that he thought she knew.
Chapter Sixty-One.
Vera took Ashworth with her to interview Neville Furness. Furness had been messing her around. She’d been trying to fix an interview with him since Edmund had died. She wanted to show him she meant business and the two of them turning up at his office gave that impression.
Besides, on these occasions Ashworth was a useful observer. Sometimes she got carried away and he picked up signals she missed.
Slateburn Quarries took up the top floor of the office block by the river. She tried to remember what the site had looked like when old man Noble’s slaughterhouse had been there, but couldn’t. She was too used to the new roads. Even looking down at the river from the large window in reception she couldn’t tie up her memories with the geography.
The receptionist was middle-aged, severe. She told them that Mr. Furness would be with them shortly. He was tied up in a meeting. She brought them coffee.
“Does he know we’re here?” Vera demanded.
The receptionist bridled. “They said no interruptions. The meeting’s scheduled to finish at eleven.”
“So you’ve not even told him?” Her voice must have been audible in the building society on the ground floor. It increased in volume: “I want to see him now.”
The secretary hesitated, flushed with indignation, then went to the phone behind her desk. Almost immediately afterwards Neville Furness appeared from a corridor to their left. Vera had only seen him before at Black Law in jeans and a scuffed Barbour. In his suit and tie he seemed more formidable, not because the clothes gave him authority but because he wore them with such ease. Vera had expected him to seem out of place here. He was a farmer’s son. But even summoned dramatically from his meeting he was un flustered
“You must be a very busy man, Mr. Furness,” she said ominously, not sure yet whether she wanted to provoke a fight but keeping her options open.
He led them into an office which had his name on the door. It looked over the town. “And I know you’re busy too, Inspector. I’m sorry to have kept you.”
There was a desk near the window but he pulled three easy chairs round a low coffee table and they sat there. Again she was taken by how self-assured he was. She wanted to shake him.
“You’re difficult to pin down. You haven’t been avoiding us?”
“Of course not. It’s been a very difficult time here. Edmund’s death has thrown the whole business of the quarry into question.”
“Why? It had nothing to do with him.”
“It’s a matter of publicity. You know that Slateburn is working with the Fulwells on the project. Lily is very keen to go ahead but we have the impression that Robert would rather let the matter go. At least for the moment. He sees it as a question of taste.”
“What would you think about that?” He paused. “I’m an employee of Slateburn Quarries. I’ll implement whatever strategy is decided.”
“But you must have a personal view.”
“Not when I’m in this office, no.” “I was told you were the great enthusiast. The power behind the whole scheme.”
“I don’t know who told you that.” He paused again, frowning. When Vera said nothing he went on, “It’s my job to be enthusiastic.”
Vera stretched her legs. The chairs were low. They’d be comfortable enough for snoozing in but not for sitting up straight and taking notice.
“But Mr. Waugh must be keen for the scheme to go ahead. He’ll have invested a fortune just to get this far.”
“I think he’s open-minded, he could be persuaded either way. The inquiry will cost in legal fees if we decide to go ahead. Godfrey was certainly more positive when we received a favourable Environmental Impact Assessment report. The company’s sponsorship of the Wildlife Trust was a gamble. Once we’d become involved in that we couldn’t afford to be seen damaging an area of conservation importance in any way.”
“Who called the meeting earlier in the week to discuss the future of the quarry?”
“The Fulwells. We wouldn’t have intruded the day after Edmund’s death.”
“Which particular Fulwell?” As if we don’t already know, Vera thought.
She narrowed her eyes and looked at him.
“Probably Olivia. Hoping that we’d exert some influence on Robert.
During the meeting she accused him of having gone weedy on her.”
For the first time Neville had lost his professional cool. Vera was gleeful.
“You don’t like Mrs. Fulwell,” she said, keeping her voice neutral.
“Not much. When I worked for Robert she interfered. That was one of the reasons I was glad to leave Holme Park.”
“Who else was at the meeting?”
“Pete Kemp, our conservation consultant.”
Vera stretched again, stifled a yawn. The room was very warm. “I don’t suppose it matters to him one way or the other what’s decided about the quarry. He’ll be paid for his report whether the development goes ahead or not.” “Oh, he’s already been paid,” Furness said dryly. “But it’s not precisely true that he’s nothing to gain from the development. If it does go ahead Godfrey has promised a new nature reserve close to the site. It was part of the plan. Kemp Associates would draw up the management agreement for that and provide the staff. It would be a lucrative contract.”
You don’t like Peter Kemp either, Vera thought. Why’s that, I wonder.
It annoyed her that she couldn’t make up her mind about Neville Furness. She couldn’t pin him down, work out what made him tick. It was a matter of pride to her that her first impressions of people were sound. She boasted about it to Ashworth all the time. But her impressions of Furness were confused and unreliable.
“What did you do with the key to your house on the estate when you left?” she asked, hoping to shock him.
He didn’t answer immediately.
“You did have a key?” “I’m sorry,” he said. “Obviously it’s important. I’m trying to remember. I had two keys. One to the front door and one to the back.
On a single ring.”
“Did you give them back to Mrs. Fulwell?” It was Ashworth’s first contribution.
“No. Definitely not that. I’d given my letter of resignation to Robert. I had some holiday to take so effectively I left Holme Park without notice. That was how I wanted it. I didn’t want any scenes.”
“Would Mrs. Fulwell have made a scene?” Ashworth asked.
“She’s spoilt. Given occasionally to tantrums.”
“Was your relationship with Mrs. Fulwell entirely professional?”
“On my part, certainly.”
“And on hers?” As I explained, she interfered.”
“She fancied you,” Vera interrupted with a chortle. “Don’t tell me she wanted a bit of rough.”
He blushed violently and for a moment she wondered if she had a handle on him. He was shy, a prude. There was no more to it than that. But then he recovered his composure so quickly that she thought she must be wrong.
“So far as I am aware,” he said stiffly, “Robert and Lily have a very happy marriage.” “Let’s get back to the keys then,” Vera said unabashed. “You didn’t give them to Lily. Did you give them to Robert?”
“I don’t think so. He wouldn’t normally be involved in that sort of detail.”
“So you kept them then?”
“I suppose it’s possible. I mean I suppose it’s possible that I just forgot to give them back.”