Poe said, ‘OK. If we assume that the cruise is important, then both companies need to be checked out.’
‘I’ll do that,’ Reid said. ‘I can access Eden District Council’s licence department and look into it. If anything needs chasing up I’ll put a couple of detectives on it.’
Poe nodded. He’d hoped Reid would take on that task. It would be easier for a Cumbrian to do it.
‘You think something happened on that cruise? An accident maybe?’ Reid said. ‘Rich men are never that bright when they’ve done something stupid. Their first thoughts invariably turn to covering it up.’
Poe shook his head. ‘No, if something happened, then the percontation point on the invitation means it was planned. At least one person knew about it in advance.’
‘Quentin Carmichael?’ Reid asked.
‘Probably. Not definitely.’
‘Best guess?’ Reid asked.
‘Most murders have their roots in money or sex, and at the minute, I see no reason to look any further. Quentin Carmichael died with almost half a million pounds in his bank account. Money that was never accounted for.’
‘So . . .?’
‘So, I think we need to go and speak to someone at this children’s home. See if they actually received anything from this auction or not.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
It was the morning after the night before. Bradshaw, Reid and Flynn met Poe at Herdwick Croft at eight. Flynn was leaving for Hampshire later that morning; there was a political storm brewing over Quentin Carmichael. Unsurprisingly, his children were kicking up a stink and trying to stop the investigation going anywhere near their father. They had connections in Westminster – some of whom were equally as keen to preserve the good Carmichael name lest they were tarred with the same brush – and some junior minister had summoned the NCA director. He wanted Flynn at his side.
She wanted to take Bradshaw back down to SCAS but she’d refused. ‘We can’t justify the expense of a hotel room, Tilly,’ Flynn had argued. ‘You can do just as much good back at SCAS.’
‘I can stay with Poe and Edgar, can’t I, Poe?’ she’d countered.
Poe was spared having to explain to Bradshaw why perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea for a naive young woman to stay with a cantankerous middle-aged man, when Flynn rolled her eyes and caved. ‘OK. A few more nights.’ In the meantime, she asked them to carry on, and to try not to upset everyone they met.
Poe grinned wryly and said he couldn’t promise.
Bradshaw had been up half the night on the internet and she’d found somewhere to start. The children’s home named as the beneficiary on the invitation card had been called Seven Pines and it no longer existed. Although it had been owned by a Cumbrian faith charity, like all children’s homes, the local authority had overseen it.
The fact that it no longer existed had raised Poe’s suspicions, but when he spoke to the duty social worker at Children’s Services in Carlisle, she’d said, ‘Cumbria hardly has any homes now, Sergeant Poe. Most of our children are placed with foster families. Better value and a far better environment for them. If a Cumbrian child can’t be placed and does need a home, they’ll usually go out of county. Costs a fortune, though.’
‘OK,’ Poe said. He was learning something. ‘And if I wanted to speak to someone about Seven Pines and a charity event that was held to raise funds for it, who would be the best person to speak to?’
‘Before my time,’ she said. But she wasn’t a negative-ninny and promised to speak to someone who’d been there longer. She took his number and said she’d get back to him.
While they waited, Poe put a jug of strong coffee on the table and they all took a cup, even Bradshaw. Reid had brought doughnuts, and a bag of freshly ground coffee to replace what they’d used in the last few days. Poe smelled them and sighed. They were nice beans. Guatemalan and hand-roasted by the shop Poe used. He thanked him although it hadn’t been necess
ary; never in his life had he run out of coffee. His reserves had reserves. Still, it was a nice gesture. He put it to the front of his stash. He’d open it next.
Along with the coffee and doughnuts, Reid had also brought a copy of the Quentin Carmichael file and they spent half an hour familiarising themselves with its contents. Nothing stood out and Poe was happy the original investigation hadn’t missed anything obvious. The money was unaccounted for but there was no evidence of illegality. Bradshaw scanned everything into her tablet so they didn’t need to carry the paper file with them.
Reid’s phone rang. He looked at the screen and held his finger to his lips and whispered, ‘It’s Gamble,’ before answering, ‘DS Reid.’
Poe was trying to eavesdrop when his own phone rang. The number began with 01228: Carlisle’s area code. He pressed the green telephone icon to receive the call.
‘DS Poe?’
‘Speaking.’
‘My name’s Audrey Jackson and I am the assistant director for Looked After Children. I gather you spoke to one of my duty social workers a while ago. You were asking about the Seven Pines Children’s Home?’
Poe confirmed he was.