Pete left. Matt was eager to meet Colin Westin. The tycoon had just become the prime suspect.
CHAPTER TEN
They took the lift up to the fifteenth floor of the Airscape HQ in London. It was art deco, as the large foyer had been. Matt was reminded of the Chrysler building, which brought thoughts of Beth up front and centre again. They had jetted off for a weekend together to New York; gone to look at Ground Zero, went up the Empire State Building, and did the regular sights, including a dinner cruise round the harbour to see Liberty and the city’s skyline at sunset.
“ I thought Westin would give us the run-around, boss,” Pete said, unconsciously wiping the tops of his black leather shoes against the back of his trousers legs in turn. They hadn’t seen polish for weeks, and looked no different when he had finished.
“ So did I. He’ll probably have a team of lawyers ready to tell him to give us nothing but his name,” Matt said.
They were shown into an office with a square footage larger than Matt’s maisonette. Colin Westin rose from behind his behemoth of a desk and met them in the middle of the room.
“ Detective Inspector Barnes and Detective Sergeant Deakin, welcome. I’m Colin Westin, and I hope I can help you with your investigation. Let’s take a seat, have some coffee and get to it.”
At face value, Matt was impressed. Westin had the accent and presence of how he imagined a Texas oil baron would speak and conduct himself. He wore an oatmeal chambray shirt with the collar open and sleeves turned back, a pair of navy mohair trousers and cream loafers. At over six feet three, he was imposing, and had the look of a man who worked out and ate sensibly. There was no fat on him. As he led them across to an area with overlarge sofas the same colour as his shoes, he looked at his Rolex, implying that time was a commodity he could ill afford to waste. Matt was not now surprised that he was prepared to face them alone. The man’s eyes generated complete self-assurance, as befit a mogul of his standing.
Matt and Pete sat at the other side of a low, long marble-topped table that could have been the cover of a tomb. All that was on it was an intercom. Westin stabbed a button and ordered coffee.
“ Okay, gentlemen, let’s not fence,” Colin said. “You know that I was spending some recreational time with Marsha Freeman, and that the dumb broad kept a book and video of every john she screwed. Let’s go from there, shall we?”
“ How did you know that?” Matt asked.
“ I make it my business to know everything that I need to. I have contacts, Matt.”
The man ’s smile was one of upmanship. He had pre-empted them and was now trying to disrupt the formality of the interview by using Matt’s Christian name. It was a ploy he no doubt used to great effect with people. But he was scattering corn on barren rock if he thought his attempt to impress or gain Matt’s favour would pay off.
Matt smiled. He wished that the Yank was wearing a wolf head ring, but the fact that he wasn’t, did not eliminate him as a suspect. Whoever his contact at the Yard was, could have mentioned that detail as well. And as Caroline Foster had pointed out, this guy would not do the deed himself.
“ You had an appointment with her on the evening she was abducted and murdered, sir,” Matt said, without appearing to be phased by Westin’s inside knowledge.
“ Correct. I arrived outside her apartment building at the arranged time. She didn’t show. My limo driver, whose details I will furnish, rang her bell and got no answer. I phoned her on my mobile and got no reply. The restaurant I then went to, alone, will confirm that I was there until midnight. I was then driven to my house in Kensington. I have time-coded CCTV footage that will show my arrival. And that I did not subsequently leave the house again until seven in the morning.”
“ Were
CHAPTER TEN
They took the lift up to the fifteenth floor of the Airscape HQ in London. It was art deco, as the large foyer had been. Matt was reminded of the Chrysler building, which brought thoughts of Beth up front and centre again. They had jetted off for a weekend together to New York; gone to look at Ground Zero, went up the Empire State Building, and did the regular sights, including a dinner cruise round the harbour to see Liberty and the city’s skyline at sunset.
“ I thought Westin would give us the run-around, boss,” Pete said, unconsciously wiping the tops of his black leather shoes against the back of his trousers legs in turn. They hadn’t seen polish for weeks, and looked no different when he had finished.
“ So did I. He’ll probably have a team of lawyers ready to tell him to give us nothing but his name,” Matt said.
They were shown into an office with a square footage larger than Matt’s maisonette. Colin Westin rose from behind his behemoth of a desk and met them in the middle of the room.
“ Detective Inspector Barnes and Detective Sergeant Deakin, welcome. I’m Colin Westin, and I hope I can help you with your investigation. Let’s take a seat, have some coffee and get to it.”
At face value, Matt was impressed. Westin had the accent and presence of how he imagined a Texas oil baron would speak and conduct himself. He wore an oatmeal chambray shirt with the collar open and sleeves turned back, a pair of navy mohair trousers and cream loafers. At over six feet three, he was imposing, and had the look of a man who worked out and ate sensibly. There was no fat on him. As he led them across to an area with overlarge sofas the same colour as his shoes, he looked at his Rolex, implying that time was a commodity he could ill afford to waste. Matt was not now surprised that he was prepared to face them alone. The man’s eyes generated complete self-assurance, as befit a mogul of his standing.
Matt and Pete sat at the other side of a low, long marble-topped table that could have been the cover of a tomb. All that was on it was an intercom. Westin stabbed a button and ordered coffee.
“ Okay, gentlemen, let’s not fence,” Colin said. “You know that I was spending some recreational time with Marsha Freeman, and that the dumb broad kept a book and video of every john she screwed. Let’s go from there, shall we?”
“ How did you know that?” Matt asked.
“ I make it my business to know everything that I need to. I have contacts, Matt.”
The man ’s smile was one of upmanship. He had pre-empted them and was now trying to disrupt the formality of the interview by using Matt’s Christian name. It was a ploy he no doubt used to great effect with people. But he was scattering corn on barren rock if he thought his attempt to impress or gain Matt’s favour would pay off.
Matt smiled. He wished that the Yank was wearing a wolf head ring, but the fact that he wasn’t, did not eliminate him as a suspect. Whoever his contact at the Yard was, could have mentioned that detail as well. And as Caroline Foster had pointed out, this guy would not do the deed himself.
“ You had an appointment with her on the evening she was abducted and murdered, sir,” Matt said, without appearing to be phased by Westin’s inside knowledge.
“ Correct. I arrived outside her apartment building at the arranged time. She didn’t show. My limo driver, whose details I will furnish, rang her bell and got no answer. I phoned her on my mobile and got no reply. The restaurant I then went to, alone, will confirm that I was there until midnight. I was then driven to my house in Kensington. I have time-coded CCTV footage that will show my arrival. And that I did not subsequently leave the house again until seven in the morning.”
“ Were
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