Hit and Run by Maria Frankland (best book recommendations txt) 📗

“What was the subsidiary account these monies were paid from?” Alan glances up from his notebook, pen poised.

“Two accounts - both opened by the company and fed through their books over a six-week period. One was operating under the guise of paying a supplier, and the other, a contractor.”

“I see. But if it’s only Mr Bracken’s hunch that Fiona was involved, I’ll reiterate my previous point. It isn’t enough to warrant a charge. Or even an arrest for that matter.”

I’m so grateful for his presence here. I am stupid for sitting through my previous interviews without him.

DI Green shifts in her seat. “We are here to find out facts. Your client is not under arrest for fraud charges -yet.”

“I knew nothing about any suppliers, or contractors. Nor did I know about any loan or re-mortgage. Rob handled everything to do with money. And I trusted him.” More fool me.

“It doesn’t sound like you knew nothing, not from these texts.”

“Are you intending to charge my client with anything, Detective Inspector, or are we here to share text messages and suppositions, which frankly, amount to not very much at all?”

DI Green ignores his question. “For the benefit of the recording, I am now showing Fiona Matherson and her representative photographs, along with email correspondence between Robert Matherson and James Turner, which have been forwarded by Robert Matherson to Fiona Matherson. They are dated May 8th.”

One-by-one she produces the photographs Rob forwarded to me last month, which he had sent to exemplify the lifestyle one of his ‘associates’ was enjoying, because of the investment decisions he had supposedly made. A red Porsche, a house that makes ours look like a shed, and a foreign villa. Topped off by a smiling, balding man with an extremely glamourous woman on his arm.

“Like I’ve told you before, Rob promised me the investment deals would be winners.”

“It’s no wonder that you wanted to contribute as much as possible. No matter what you had to borrow, legitimately or otherwise. That would explain the transfer for three hundred and seventy-five thousand pounds made on 12th May.”

“Yes, I admit Rob made them sound like good investments, but I did not know he invested that much. I thought it was just my thirty grand, along with any money Rob had scraped together. I left it up to him. He worked as a financial director, after all.”

“Did you not think to do any research into these “get rich quick schemes” yourself? There’s no way I would hand that sort of money over without looking more closely first.”

Alan jumps in again. “I cannot see how your hypothetical musings could have anything to do with my client’s decisions.”

I answer anyway. “Rob was at university with this man. They went back a long way, so Rob said. He’ll have had confidence in what he told him. As I did. So yes, if being naïve is a crime, then I’m guilty of that. But nothing else.”

DI Green runs her finger down another sheet of what looks like messages. “Judging from the attempts that Rob made to contact James Turner in the week leading up to his death, I’d say he was beside himself with anxiety, as anyone would be, worrying where all this money might have ended up. Not to mention angry at being ignored.”

“I didn’t know about any of it.”

“You must have been angry and anxious too. Especially with your husband. That he could have transferred such a huge sum, without personally overseeing its administration. Perhaps he had other things on his mind?”

“What are you saying?”

“Bryony Rose, losing his job, potential fraud charges from his employer.” She pauses. “Have you been in contact with James Turner?”

“Yes, I tried a few days ago. I just want our money back. But Turner denies all knowledge of ever having received it, or even having contact with Rob recently. I can’t believe you haven’t approached him yourselves yet.”

“We’re not at liberty to discuss that with you.”

Who does PC Robinson think he is? We’re not at liberty…

“Then we move onto the morning of Rob’s death,” DI Green places another sheet on top of the previous two. “Again, a cross marks the message of interest.”

8.6.21 You carry out your threat and I’ll make sure you regret it.

“One hour before his death. What was that about Fiona?”

“It’s not what you think. My mother was having an affair. Rob was threatening to tell my dad.”

“So enlighten me. How did you plan to ensure he regretted it?”

“Not by running him over! I don’t know. How do women show they’re mad at their husbands? I’d have ignored him, had a row with him, left him, I don’t know.”

She writes something. “We’ll obviously be checking that story out.”

She’s a cow. It’s the way she says the word story.

She puts her pen down slowly. “I have to say Fiona, that you are our number one suspect here. Even more so after the violent conduct you displayed the other night towards Bryony Rose. Therefore, if you’ve anything you would like to tell us, you’d be saving everyone a lot of trouble by just coming out with it now.”

“I have got nothing to tell you.”

“The investigation has got a way to go yet,” PC Robinson says. “By helping us understand things more quickly and easily, the court would show more leniency when sentencing. And we will get to the bottom of things. With or without your cooperation.”

“Whoa.” All eyes turn to Alan. The word is out of place in a police interview room. “Don’t you think you’re getting ahead of yourselves? You’re talking sentencing? You’ve not even charged my client yet.”

“I think we’ve got everything we need - for now. Don’t venture too far away Fiona.” She gathers up her papers as she speaks. “As this inquiry deepens and we receive full CCTV from everywhere we have requested it, we will definitely require you to answer some more questions.” She tucks the papers into her file. “We’re expecting the