Let Me Lie(54)

‘I’d like to see Billy Johnson, please. I’m from Sussex Police.’

‘I’ll see if he’s free.’ She teetered on pointed-toe heels that couldn’t possibly be the same shape as her feet, click-clacking across the polished floor to her boss’s office. Tinted glass meant Murray couldn’t see inside it, and he looked out of the vast showroom windows instead, wishing he’d been able to park the Volvo a little closer. The angle meant he couldn’t see Sarah. He glanced at his watch. He’d already taken three of the ten minutes he’d promised he’d be.

‘Come through, Mr …’ Shaneen appeared in the doorway, tailing off as she realised she’d forgotten to ask Murray’s name.

‘Mackenzie. Murray Mackenzie.’ He smiled at the receptionist as she passed him, and walked into an impressive office housing two large desks. Billy Johnson stood up. His forehead glistened, and when he shook Murray’s hand it was warm and clammy. He didn’t smile, and he didn’t offer Murray a seat.

‘CID, eh?’

Murray didn’t set him straight.

‘To what do we owe the pleasure? Our last break-in was six months ago, so that’s a piss-poor response time, even by your standards.’ The smile implied a joke the words lacked.

Billy Johnson was generous of stomach. Portly, rather than fat, and not unattractive with it, Murray supposed, although what did he know? He wore a well-cut suit, highly polished shoes, and a bright yellow tie that matched the stripes on his wide-collared shirt. The defensiveness was undoubtedly due to stress, not aggression, but nevertheless Murray stayed within striking distance of the door.

‘If it’s about the VAT—’

‘It isn’t.’

Billy relaxed a little.

‘I’m making enquiries about the deaths of your brother and his wife.’

‘You the officer our Annie’s been dealing with?’

‘You’re her uncle, I believe?’

Even through Billy’s distress, his affection for Anna was evident. His eyes softened, and he nodded repeatedly, as though the action reinforced the fact. ‘Such a lovely girl. This has all been very hard for her.’

‘For all of you,’ proffered Murray.

‘Yes, yes, of course. But for Annie …’ He pulled a large white handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at his brow. ‘I’m sorry – it’s been a rather emotional morning. Please, sit down.’ He sank down into a leather swivel chair. ‘She’s convinced herself Tom and Caroline were murdered.’

Murray paused. ‘I think she’s right.’

‘Christ.’

Through the window behind Billy, Murray caught sight of a familiar figure meandering through the rows of cars. Sarah. Twenty yards behind her, walking as swiftly as it was possible to walk without running, was Ginger.

‘Were you close to Tom, Mr Johnson?’ Murray spoke quickly, half an eye on the forecourt.

Billy frowned. ‘We were brothers.’

‘You got on well?’

He seemed irritated by the question. ‘We were brothers. We had each other’s backs, but we got each other’s backs up too. You know what I mean?’

‘Business partners, too, I understand.’

Billy nodded. ‘Dad had dementia and couldn’t run the business any more, so Tom and I took over in 1991. Family,’ he added, as though that explained everything. There was an open chequebook in front of him, next to a pile of envelopes and a printed list. He shuffled the envelopes together needlessly; nodded to the chequebook. ‘Christmas bonuses. Smaller than normal, but that’s life.’

‘How did you get on with Caroline?’

A crimson flush crept over the man’s neck. ‘She ran the desk. Tom looked after that side of things. I managed the sales team.’

Murray noted that Billy hadn’t answered his question. He didn’t push it. He wasn’t supposed to be there at all; the last thing Murray needed was another complaint to Leo Griffiths. He tried another tack.

‘Did they have a good relationship?’

Billy looked out of the window, as though deciding whether or not to impart whatever was in his head. Ginger was steering Sarah towards a Defender with a ‘POA’ sign dangling from the rearview mirror. Murray hoped she was okay. Hoped Ginger wouldn’t say anything to set her off.

Billy turned back to Murray. ‘He didn’t treat her right. He was my brother, and I loved him, but he wasn’t good enough for her.’

Murray waited. There was obviously a story behind this.

‘He liked a drink. Well, we all do, but …’ Billy shook his head. ‘This isn’t right. Speaking ill of the dead. It isn’t right.’

‘Are you suggesting Tom had a problem with alcohol, Mr Johnson?’

There was a long pause before Billy spoke. He looked out of the window. ‘Caroline tried to cover for him, but I’m not stupid. Even if Tom thought I was.’ This last was said bitterly, muttered more to himself than to Murray.

Behind him, Murray saw Ginger open the driver’s door of the Defender. Sarah settled herself behind the wheel and adjusted the seat. Ginger would have her out on a test drive if Murray didn’t leave soon. He stood up.

‘You’ve been very helpful, Mr Johnson. Thank you.’