be necessary. I always used a condom. I may be foolish, but I’m not mad. You won’t find any …’ Hellier stalled, trying to think of suitable words ‘… thing belonging to me on his body. You don’t need to examine me.’
Sean stood up and leaned in close to Hellier. ‘Oh yes I do, Mr Hellier. And you will give me what I need. If you don’t, then I’ll arrest you on suspicion of murder and take the samples anyway. I’ll get a warrant and search your home. I’ll search this office – and we won’t be as discreet about our business as we’ve been so far.’
He wasn’t bluffing; the more serious the offence, the more he could stretch his powers to the limit. He opened his wallet, took out one of his business cards and threw it on the desk. ‘That’s my office and mobile numbers. You have a day to call me. And I’ll require a full written statement from you at the same time. You’ll have to tell us about your relationship with Daniel Graydon. Absolutely everything. One day to call, Mr Hellier, and then—’
The door to Hellier’s office unexpectedly swung open. Another well-dressed man entered the office without asking. Sean assumed the rich-looking man in his late thirties or early forties had to be Hellier’s boss. He looked the man over, taking in details only a cop would see. He did it to everybody nearly all the time, an occupational hazard he was almost unaware of. The man had purpose and poise, not just because of his physical presence: he was at least six foot tall, strong and fit, his tailored suit not disguising his deep chest and slim waist. But he also had an aura about him, a sense of power and control. Sean knew the man would be the sort of boss his underlings would both fear and love.
‘James.’ The well-dressed man spoke into the room. ‘I heard about the theft. I trust you got hold of your bank before the bastards had a chance to cash any cheques?’ The man’s voice matched everything else about him: authoritative and dominating, but soothing and reassuring at the same time. Sean felt it was almost gravitational, drawing whoever he was talking to towards him, like a brilliant actor performing on the stage.
‘Yes. Yes I did. Panic over,’ Hellier told him.
The well-dressed man thrust out a hand toward Sean and Donnelly. ‘Sebastian Gibran. Senior Partner here. Always a pleasure to help the police in any way we can. Any idea who you’re looking for?’
‘No. Not yet,’ said Sean, shaking his hand, feeling a little thrown off centre by Gibran’s very presence. The handshake was firm, but not overpowering, although Sean believed Gibran could have crushed his hand if he’d wanted to.
‘Well, anything we can do to help, just let me know.’ Gibran’s smile was perfect – straight white teeth that shone almost as brightly as his eyes − and radiated warmth and charm, all wrapped in a protective sheath of power.
‘Thank you. I will,’ Sean replied. ‘Don’t get up, Mr Hellier. We’ll let ourselves out. And thanks for your time.’ Both detectives stood to leave the office.
‘Allow me to show you out,’ Gibran offered.
‘We’ll be fine,’ Sean said, keen to be away so that he and Donnelly could begin to speak freely. ‘I’m sure you’re very busy.’
‘I insist,’ Gibran argued, once again flashing his mouthful of brilliant white teeth. ‘Please, follow me.’
Sean and Donnelly followed Gibran, who smiled and nodded his acknowledgement to staff members they passed, using Christian names to greet each and every one. Sean had worked in the same office for over two years and still struggled to remember everyone’s names. Gibran’s smoothness only made him dislike him all the more. When they were alone, Gibran spoke again. ‘Where did you say you were from?’
‘We informed Mr Hellier where we are from,’ Sean responded.
‘I’m sure you did,’ Gibran replied. ‘But you didn’t tell me.’
‘Our dealings with Mr Hellier are confidential,’ Sean said firmly. ‘If he wants to tell you more, that’s up to him.’
‘If James is involved in anything that could damage the reputation of this institution, then I should be informed, Inspector,’ Gibran argued. ‘Look,’ he took a conciliatory tone, the smile back in place, ‘a lot of people rely on me for their welfare and security in these uncertain times. It is my responsibility to protect their interests. The need of the many is greater than the need of the individual.’
‘Meaning, if Hellier looks like he’s going to be bad for business, you’ll throw him to the wolves,’ Donnelly accused.
Gibran stared hard at Donnelly before speaking again. ‘James is very privileged to have both a detective inspector and a detective sergeant investigating what appears to be a minor theft.’ He watched Sean and Donnelly look at each other; it was only a glance, but he noticed it. ‘Really, you didn’t think I was that stupid, did you?’
Sean had no answer and felt he needed to counter, to try and knock Gibran out of his stride. ‘What did you say you do here?’ Sean asked. ‘International finance – what exactly does that mean?’
‘Nothing the police need to be concerned about,’ Gibran answered. ‘We help people and organizations raise capital for various business projects, no more. You know, oil people wanting to move into the building and property markets, property people wanting to move into the tech markets, and now and then someone literally walks in off the street with a brilliant idea but no funds. We’ll help them obtain those funds.’
‘Well, that all sounds very noble,’ Donnelly chipped in.
‘We’re not part of the banking system,’ Gibran assured them. ‘There’s no need for animosity here.’
Sean looked him up and down. He had no more he wanted to say. ‘Goodbye, Mr Gibran. It was a pleasure meeting you.’
He could feel Gibran’s eyes watching them as they finally escaped into the lift, the streets below beckoning them. Sean needed to drag Hellier out of his natural comfort zone and into his world, away from protectors like Sebastian Gibran. Then and only then would they see the real James Hellier.
James Hellier stood by his office window looking down on the detectives in the street below. He was careful not to be seen. He paid special attention to Sean. He disliked him, sensed the danger in him, but he felt no anger towards him. In his own way he appreciated him – appreciated a worthy adversary who would make the game all the more fun to play. They thought they were clever, but they weren’t going to ruin things for him. He would make sure of it.
He cursed under his breath – somehow he’d been recognized at the damn nightclub and he wondered who by. He should have been more careful. It was unfortunate, but not entirely unexpected. He needed to stay calm. They had nothing on him. Police talk and threats meant nothing. He would wait and see if anything developed. He wouldn’t panic and run. There was no need. Not yet.
But he would have to be careful of Gibran too. Trust him to come and stick his nose in where it wasn’t wanted. He thought he was so fucking clever, senior partner at Butler and Mason, the self-appointed sheriff of the company. If it came to it he would be long gone before Gibran found out. Gibran should remember who gave him a job at Butler and Mason in the first place. It was Gibran who personally checked his references, glowing reports from previous employers in the United States and Far East. Only thing was, not a single one of them was real. If Gibran had actually got on a plane to check Hellier’s background properly, he would have eventually discovered that Hellier’s previous employment history was a myth. But he knew Gibran would
