Page 29 of Murder in Portofino

TUESDAY MORNING

The cabin belonging to the Head of Accounts was much larger than I’d been expecting and it had an actual window, rather than a porthole, through which there was a beautiful view of the rocky cliffs below Castello Brown. In fact, from here to where Jerome Van der Groot’s body had been washed up was probably only a hundred and fifty metres or so but, of course, I reminded myself, on the night of that murder, the yacht had been almost a kilometre further out from the shore. The cabin was luxuriously furnished, and a glance through the open door to the bathroom revealed that to be equally sumptuous. Apart from the double bed, there were also four small armchairs around a coffee table and it was here that Neil Vaughan and I were invited to sit down. Oscar was allowed to stretch out on a soft white rug alongside me and he gave me a disbelieving look as he did so. I found myself hoping that it would still be in pristine condition when he got up again. Black Labrador hair does tend to stand out against a white background.

Edgar Beaumont indicated a selection of bottles on a tray behind him. ‘Can I offer either of you gentlemen a drink?’

Considering that it was still breakfast time, I decided to give the booze a miss and just thanked him. Neil Vaughan did the same and we watched as Beaumont poured himself a generous glass of neat Scotch. Might this signify that he had a drink problem or might it indicate a guilty conscience, meaning that he needed a bit of Dutch courage? When he’d taken a seat opposite us, I let Neil Vaughan do the talking, and he gave a slightly nervous, but clear and well-reasoned, summary of the situation he had discovered and ended by indicating that the inescapable conclusion he’d come to was that somebody must have been embezzling the company’s money on a grand scale. As a result, he had thought it best to bring in a completely independent investigator to get to the truth of the matter and he hoped his boss would approve. He removed the sheet containing my terms and conditions from his wallet, carefully unfolded it and handed it across. The two of them then had a discussion with lowered voices and I studiously kept my attention on the view through the window and did a bit of thinking.

As Vaughan had revealed his suspicions to Beaumont, I had kept my eyes very carefully on the older man, trying to detect any signs of guilt. It had been a hard task because almost as soon as he’d begun to register all the facts, I’d seen a whole host of expressions cross his face. These had ranged from surprise and incredulity to disbelief and then anger. It was a convincing performance, but there was just something about his reaction that didn’t quite ring true. Call it an old copper’s hunch, but I got the feeling that maybe at least some of this news hadn’t come as a complete surprise to him. As he and Vaughan continued to talk quietly between themselves, I sat back and wondered about Edgar Beaumont.

Was Beaumont the embezzler? Had Van der Groot found out and accosted him about it on Saturday night, only to end up dead as a result? Alternatively, had Beaumont murdered Van der Groot because he’d discovered that the person dipping his hands in the till had been none other than Van der Groot himself, and he’d taken radical steps to rid the company of the thief rather than risk a very public scandal? If he had been one half of the conversation I had overheard in Lucca – and I was increasingly convinced that he was – this would explain my feeling that maybe the news hadn’t been totally new to him. Had he and the other man been discussing having discovered the identity of the embezzler? If that was the case, it could indicate that Beaumont might have had an accomplice in murdering their boss. Was this really credible? Would a couple of media executives really murder an embezzler rather than let the law take its course? I had serious doubts.

This begged the question of who his accomplice might have been. Presumably, it must have been the other man I had heard in Lucca. One thing was for sure: that couldn’t have been Heinrich Schiller, as he had allegedly spoken with a noticeable German accent. So why kill Schiller? To silence a blackmailer who claimed to have seen something on Saturday night, or for a completely different reason? As for the identity of the accomplice, unless some other rabbits popped out of the hat, it seemed ever more likely that that person had to be Adam Phillips, AKA Mr Muscle, because I had definitely heard two male voices. And I intended to interview him next.

I tried hard for a moment to dismiss the conversation I’d overheard in Lucca. The fact was that I couldn’t be absolutely sure that the two men had belonged to the Regal Princess group, so it was always possible that they had been two completely different men with no connection to this company. As soon as I did this, of course, it brought the only woman with access to the accounts into the frame as well, and this was Louise Challenger, the payroll specialist. Beneath her severe, bookkeeper exterior, could there be a murderer lurking there? Was she the person who’d been stealing the money and had she killed Van der Groot after being confronted by him? If so, had she been the target of a blackmail attempt by Schiller that had ultimately signed his death warrant as well? She didn’t look the murdering type but, over the years, one thing I’ve learnt has been that there isn’t one single, easily detectable type of murderer. Given the right circumstances and motivation, killing somebody isn’t just the domain of the psychopath. I was looking forward to speaking to her.

Any further conjecture was interrupted by the sound of Edgar Beaumont’s voice. This time, his attention was directed at me.

‘Mr Armstrong, I don’t need to remind you how delicate this information is and how damaging it could be in the wrong hands. Our company has a good name and our shareholders trust us. Something like this, if revealed to be true, could seriously damage confidence in us and potentially even ruin the company. If you are prepared to pursue this case for us – and I agree with Neil that you should – I need it to be absolutely understood between us that anything you discover stays out of the public domain.’

I nodded. ‘You can rely on my integrity. I spent thirty years in the Metropolitan Police and if you like, I can let you have names of referees who can attest to my honesty and professionalism.’

He nodded a couple of times in return. ‘Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. Neil has just told me that he’s already vetted you fully.’

I glanced sideways at Neil Vaughan and he produced a little smile. ‘A quick search on the Internet gave me your background, and as a result, I asked my mother to call a friend of hers about you. I needed to be sure before I approached you, and you’ll be pleased to hear that you received a sparkling bill of health.’

‘A very sensible precaution, Mr Vaughan, but why your mother? May I ask the identity of her friend?’

‘The former Metropolitan Police Commissioner. She and my mother are golfing partners.’

It’s not often that I’m at a loss for words, but the fact that the former head of the force had remembered a humble DCI was a shock to the system. Finally regaining the power of speech, I thanked him and returned my attention to Edgar Beaumont.

‘As I said, you can rely on my discretion, but I have to warn you that if I uncover evidence of lawbreaking, I’ll have no choice but to refer it to the police.’ I saw him nod, but was that just a little flicker of uncertainty I could see on his face? It disappeared as quickly as it had come and he replied in firm tones.

‘Of course, Mr Armstrong, I wholeheartedly agree. We must make sure we do everything strictly by the book.’

I carried on. ‘You also need to know that I’m not an expert in financial matters. In order to obtain a successful prosecution, you’ll have to submit your accounts to scrutiny by specialists in the field, but that’s some way down the road for now. Mr Vaughan tells me that, as far as he’s concerned, there are only four people still alive who have access to the company’s accounts and they’re all here on this boat. Is that correct or is there anybody else? Maybe IT people, secretaries, former staff members?’

‘Definitely not. Apart from the Inland Revenue, there’s nobody else.’

‘And these people are yourself, Mr Vaughan, Louise Challenger and Adam Phillips, is that correct?’ He nodded and I carried on. ‘In that case, I’d like to interview each of them individually. I’ve already had a long talk to Mr Vaughan so that’s done. When would it be convenient for you and me to sit down together, just the two of us?’

Before Beaumont could answer, Neil Vaughan jumped to his feet. ‘Why don’t I go and see if I can print out some of the irregularities I’ve identified? While I’m doing that, you two can have your talk, if that’s convenient for you both.’

Beaumont gave him an approving nod. ‘A very good idea, Neil. Go off and do that. Mr Armstrong and I can go through everything right now.’ As Vaughan made his way to the door, his boss called after him. ‘And thank you most sincerely for bringing this to my attention.’

I couldn’t help wondering to what extent he meant it.

I waited until Neil Vaughan had left before launching into a series of questions. Although I started by asking about very practical matters relating to the accounts, audits and the security of the accounting system, I also did my best to introduce a few other questions relating to Van der Groot’s murder. In particular, I asked Beaumont where he’d been on Saturday night after the victim had got up from the table in the saloon and stormed off in a huff.

He looked at me for a few moments before answering. ‘I’ve already given the police the answer to this. I can’t see how my whereabouts that night can be relevant to an investigation into our accountancy problems.’

I felt that this was either very naïve or a deliberate attempt at dissimulation, but I spelled it out to him all the same. ‘Two people have been murdered, Mr Beaumont. As far as I know, the police are still searching for a motive. To my mind, the small matter of a few missing millions might well prove to be sufficient motive for at least one of the murders, don’t you think? The loss of the money and the murders may be linked, so an investigation of one naturally leads to an investigation of the other.’

There was a pause while I saw him consider the implications of what I’d just said. Finally, a resigned look appeared on his face and he answered my question. ‘I still find it hard to believe that anybody here would have been prepared to commit murder – and I certainly didn’t – but, if it helps your inquiry, I can tell you that I left the saloon that night shortly after Jerome stormed out, and I went back to my cabin. As far as I’m aware, most of the others did the same. It was almost eleven o’clock at night, after all.’

‘Can anybody corroborate that?’

‘If you mean did I have company in my room, the answer’s no. I walked back from the saloon with Louise and she left me at my door. I’m afraid that’s the best I can do for you in terms of an alibi, apart from just repeating that I don’t go around killing people.’

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