Thirty-Six
The summons came in a phone call the following morning at nine-thirty sharp. Dan Poke, sounding very businesslike and making no mention of their encounter the previous evening, invited Jude and her friend to a meeting at the Home Hostelries headquarters in Horsham. He said he would like to make the meeting as soon as possible, “because of the nature of the situation’. They agreed to meet that very morning at eleven-thirty.
Carole had told her the previous evening what she had discovered about Will Maples’s role in the Home Hostelries company, and on the way up to Horsham in the Renault they discussed the likelihood of his also being at the meeting.
Dan Poke had given very precise instructions and also told Jude that parking would be reserved for them. This was a considerable relief to Carole, who knew of old that Horsham was one of those towns in which it was impossible to find a parking space. The slot allocated for them was right next to Will Maples’s distinctive pale-blue BMW.
The Home Hostelries building breathed success from every shiny glass storey. The air-conditioned atrium where they approached Reception was high and daunting, a temple to corporate achievement. They were expected and, moments after their arrival, a girl in a mulberry business suit with feather grey trim escorted them to the lift, in which they were whisked up to boardroom level.
Their question in the car was answered immediately. Will Maples was there, as well as Dan Poke, who looked incongruous in a dark suit and tie. He had shaved since the night before. The little square of beard on his chin looked like some form of scouring pad.
The third member of the greeting party Carole and Jude had not met before. A woman in her thirties with square-cut blonde hair and a pinstriped trouser suit was introduced to them as ‘Melissa Keats, a member of the company legal team’.
They sat at one end of a long boardroom table, Carole and Jude on one side, the other three opposite them. The atmosphere was that of a rather daunting job interview, and the two women felt certain that that was the intention. They were being subjected to a course of corporate intimidation. The girl who’d brought them up in the lift poured coffee for those who required it, and then left the room, closing the door behind her.
His colleagues seemed to expect Will Maples to take charge, which he duly did. Dan Poke was uncharacteristically quiet in this business environment; he seemed to be waiting for his colleague to give him permission to speak.
Carole and Jude had seen plenty of Will Maples’s smarmy smiles in his days at the Hare and Hounds, but there was none on his face that morning. “We’ve called this meeting because you two ladies have been spreading rumours about the business activities of Home Hostelries which we believe to have no basis in truth. So it seemed sensible to meet to find out where you got these ideas from and maybe to clear the air. Now I believe, Mrs Seddon and, er…” he looked down at some notes in front of him “…Jude, that the allegations you have made concern recent events at the Crown and Anchor pub in Fethering…?”
“Which Home Hostelries wishes to buy,” said Carole.
“I don’t deny that we have expressed an interest in the property,” Will Maples purred smoothly. “It is the sort of public house that would fit well into our portfolio. But we have no immediate plans to buy it, because the owner does not wish to sell.”
“Ah, but this is the point,” said Jude.
“What is the point?”
“You’ve been putting pressure on Ted Crisp so that he will sell to you, and at a lower price than the pub is worth.”
“Really?” asked Will Maples.
Melissa Keats chipped in, “I think I should point out that it is against the law to make allegations against people – ”
But the solicitor was silenced by an upraised hand from her superior. “If you don’t mind, Melissa, let’s hear everything the ladies have to say first. Then I think we will be in a better position to judge whether there is any truth at all in their allegations.”
“Very well, Will,” she said, duly submissive.
“So, Mrs Seddon and Jude, could you define this ‘pressure’ which you claim Home Hostelries has put on the landlord of the Crown and Anchor?”
“It started with the food-poisoning,” Carole replied. “Some scallops that weren’t fresh were introduced into the Crown and Anchor kitchen.”
“But not by anyone from Home Hostelries.”
“We believe,” Carole went on, “that the scallops came in a delivery from KWS warehouse, which, as you know, holds stock for Snug Pubs, which are now a part of the Home Hostelries group. The delivery man’s name is Matt.”
While her friend talked, Jude was studying Dan Poke’s face intently. She was sure she saw a reaction when the name of Sylvia Crisp’s fiancé was mentioned. But he quickly covered it up.
“If what you say was correct,” said Will Maples, “then there should be some record of it in the KWS office. Nothing gets delivered without an order form.”
“The paperwork has disappeared.”
“Has it, Mrs Seddon? Well, well, well. How unfortunate.” Now there was a smile on Will Maples’s face. An infuriatingly complacent one. He made a note on a pad in front of him. “So…this food-poisoning from…scallops was it you said? You believe it to have been deliberately engineered, but you have no proof of that. Isn’t it more likely that the outbreak arose because of some carelessness, some lapse of hygiene in the Crown and Anchor kitchen? The weather has been exceptionally hot.”
Jude couldn’t help herself from bursting out, “Ted Crisp’s standards of hygiene cannot be faulted. He sees to it that that kitchen is kept spotless.”
Will Maples gave her a patronizing smile. “I’ve heard exactly the same thing from every landlord I’ve ever encountered…often in the teeth of the evidence. On occasions even when I have heard the cockroaches being crunched underfoot. Publicans, Jude, are not, generally speaking, the most truthful of individuals.”
“All right,” said Carole. “Let’s put the food-poisoning on one side and move on to the bikers.”
“Bikers?” Will Maples echoed.
“Yes, you know what bikers are?”
“I certainly do.”
“Well, don’t you think it’s rather strange that, just after the Crown and Anchor’s reopened after the food-poisoning business, it suddenly gets invaded by a horde of bikers.”
“I gather,” said Will Maples with a little self-congratulatory smile, “that bikers go where they choose. The life of the open road is what they seek, and which particular drinking hole they favour…well, I’d have thought that was up to them.”
“These particular bikers were an organized rent-a-mob.”
“Organized? By using that word, Mrs Seddon, you imply that there must have been someone doing the organizing.”
“There was.”
“And I don’t suppose by any chance you’ve got a name for that person, have you?” His patronizing tone was now on the verge of being downright rude.
“As a matter of fact, I do. He is an ex-soldier invalided out of Iraq, who lives in Fratton. His name is Derren Hart.”
This time Jude saw an unmistakable twitch of recognition from Dan Poke. And Will Maples too seemed momentarily taken aback by the mention of the name. But he was quickly back into his smooth insolence. “And are you telling me, Mrs Seddon, that this Mr…Hart, was it…has admitted to his involvement in organizing wrecking crews of bikers?”
Carole was forced to admit that he hadn’t.
“So, as with the food poisoning, what you have is a supposition, but no proof to back it up?” He smiled across at the solicitor. “Not the kind of case that would stand up in court, would it, Melissa?”