Web of Lies by Sally Rigby (classic novels for teens txt) 📗

his company was on dodgy ground and wanted somewhere to stash some cash without anybody knowing.’

‘I’ll find out more when I see him. Keep digging and see what else you can find out. What happened when the regulator got involved in his company?’

‘They weren’t prosecuted, but their assets were frozen and they went into administration. I’ll keep looking and update you with what exactly happened. I don’t have a day off until Saturday, so you’ll have to interview Truss without me. Can you manage that?’

‘I’ll try my hardest.’

‘Keep in touch … crap. Someone’s coming. I’ll text you Truss’s details, let me know how it goes.’

Within a few seconds his phone pinged, and he’d received a text with the details. Truss worked in London. He called the number.

‘Fast Finance,’ a woman answered.

‘I’d like to make an appointment to see Mr Truss.’

‘What’s it regarding?’

‘Finance,’ he lied. ‘Does he have any appointments tomorrow?’

‘He’s available at eleven. Shall I book you in?’

‘Yes, please. The name’s Clifford. Thank you for your help.’

He ended the call before she had time to ask for his first name, in case they googled him.

Things were progressing well. He hoped to have an answer for Sarah soon, one way or the other.

Chapter 16

12 May

Seb caught the nine-thirty train to London and took the Piccadilly line on the Tube to Southgate where Truss was based. His office was above an estate agent in Chase Side, close to the art deco station. Seb pushed open the green door which was in definite need of a coat of paint and headed up the narrow staircase covered in well-worn patterned lino which looked like it dated from the sixties. At the top of the stairs was another door, and in faded gold lettering on the glass was written Fast Finance. According to Seb’s research, the company offered payday loans, mainly operating online.

He walked in and behind a large cheap looking desk, filling most of the room, sat a woman in her fifties with blonde hair framing her oval face. Her fingers, with long pink nails decorated with gemstones, were frozen in mid-air as she stopped tapping on the keyboard and glanced up, craning her neck until they made eye contact.

‘May I help you?’

‘I’m here to see Mr Truss. The name’s Clifford, I called yesterday.’

She rested her hands on the desk and nodded. ‘You were lucky to catch him in today as on Friday he goes to the Bahamas for a month, and he’s been busy getting everything sorted.’

‘Will someone be carrying on with his clients in his absence?’

‘There’s no need to worry, he can still sort out everything for you. It’s possible to work anywhere nowadays thanks to the internet and having a laptop. We don’t have many face-to-face customers, didn’t you want to apply online? It’s so much easier. Though I never thought I’d hear myself say that. When I first started here, we did everything in person and I was useless on the computer. Mr Truss was very patient while I learnt how to use the software and … I can even help my grandson with his homework.’

‘I’m impressed,’ Seb said, flashing a smile in her direction.

She sat upright, her shoulders back, a self-satisfied expression on her face, and picked up the phone on her desk, pressing one of the buttons. ‘Mr Clifford’s here to see you,’ her voice boomed out. After replacing the handset, she looked up at him. ‘If you’d like to go through that door, that’s his office’ She pointed to the door to the right of her desk.

As he walked in, Truss stood up and held out his hand. He was a small man, maybe five feet six, with a rather large protruding belly, short grey hair cut around his ears, and a well-trimmed beard.

‘Mr Clifford, good to meet you. Please take a seat.’

Seb shook his outstretched hand and sat on the chair in front of the desk.

‘Thank you for seeing me at such short notice.’

‘Can I get you something to drink?’

‘Coffee would be lovely.’

Truss picked up the phone. ‘Violet. Two cups of coffee and don’t forget the biscuits.’ He replaced the phone and then patted his stomach. ‘I can’t miss my mid-morning snack or I won’t be able to concentrate.’ He laughed, and his double chin wobbled. ‘How may I help you? What sort of loan are you looking for?’

‘I’m actually here for a chat.’

Truss frowned. ‘Didn’t you tell my assistant you were here about organising some finance?’

‘That’s correct and I’m sorry to have misled her, but I wanted to speak to you about Donald Witherspoon and I wasn’t sure that you’d agree to see me if you knew the real reason for my visit.’

Colour drained from Truss’s face. ‘Are you the press?’

‘Most definitely not. His wife has asked me to investigate her husband’s death as she’s not convinced it was suicide.’

‘What am I to do with that?’ His voice was stiff and stilted.

‘Going through Donald’s records, I can see that you invested with him on a couple of occasions.’

‘And let me guess, because of my background, you thought I was something to do with this Ponzi scheme he was operating. Well, let me tell you, I had nothing to do with it. I lost everything I’d invested with him, along with everyone else.’

‘Why were you investing with him at all, if you had your own finance company and the knowledge to make investments?’

‘When I was a director of Victory Finance, I decided to keep some of my investments private so I invested it in a variety of different places, including with Donald.’

‘What made you go with Donald out of all the investment companies around? Did you know him before you invested?’

‘We went back a long way from when we both worked for the same loan company back in the nineties. We both left the company to work for ourselves. I bought into a finance company that gave loans, and he decided to go it alone. We kept in touch over the years. Not regularly, but