The Inspector Walter Darriteau Murder Mysteries - Books 1-4 by David Carter (best finance books of all time .txt) 📕

back a moment later, threw three tenners onto the floor. Yelled, ‘There’s your money you little prick! Now get out of my house before I throttle ya, you ugly little bastard!’

Langley stooped and collected his cash.

He was never too proud to get down and pick up money.

‘Look at my fucking cushion!’ Mrs Buxton shrieked belatedly, smacking it repeatedly, as Denise struggled to open the window.

Langley had the money and that was the only thing that mattered to him, for he understood what money meant: power. He would have the last laugh, as he usually did. On his way out Mrs B screamed after him, ‘You have no idea what you are messing with! No idea!’

BACK THEN, THE TRUTH was that he really didn’t. Unbeknown to him Langley Wells had crossed the Rubicon. He had begun lending to adults. He had moved into a different league. From that day onward he would face real and ferocious competition. He would soon find out how tough business really could be, though he did have one small compensation.

Setting light to Mrs Buxton’s house brought him a reputation. People gossiped about him, became wary of him, feared him even. He wasn’t quite right in the head. Everyone knew that. Langley Wells was a psycho, a loony. He was almost twelve, a moneylender, and now, a known arsonist.

Eleven

Walter and Karen arrived outside the Swaythling home at two o’clock, rang the buzzer and the Filipina let them in. Holly Swaythling was sitting in the same chair in the same room. ‘Well Inspector, I am surprised to see you back so soon.’

‘There were one or two things we wanted to ask you, confidentially, while you were on your own.’

‘Gerry would be furious if he knew you were here, you know that, don’t you?’

‘That’s as maybe, but all we are concerned about is the safety of your son.’

‘Yes, I do understand.’

‘Did you speak to Neil?’ asked Karen.

‘I did, thank you, and he said I was not to worry... but mothers always worry.’

‘Yes, of course they do,’ said Walter.

‘So ask away, Inspector, before I fall asleep, as I always seem to do in the afternoons these days.’

‘When we asked you yesterday if Gerry had any enemies he said no, but we thought you thought different.’

‘I wouldn’t have said enemies exactly.’

‘What then?’ asked Karen.

Holly took a deep breath as if even that was a huge effort.

‘Ten, maybe fifteen years ago, Swaythling Construction wasn’t anything like it is today.’

‘Much smaller?’ said Walter.

‘Course! Tiny in comparison, and delicate. We were going through one of the cyclical building slumps, as we always seem to do; it was a time when the banks would only lend to the people who didn’t need the money.’

‘Nothing much changes,’ said Karen.

‘True.’

‘And Swaythling’s did need money?’ asked Walter.

‘Very much so. The business was called Swaythling & Ford back then. Gerry had a partner.’

‘A Mister Ford?’ clarified Karen.

Holly nodded. ‘Munro Ford to be specific.’

‘What happened to him?’ asked Walter.

‘The business was in serious financial difficulty. They needed a hundred and sixty grand to survive. Eighty grand per partner. Munro had no connections; no money, nothing. His expertise was entirely on the construction side. He needed to be led when it came to running and pushing a business forward. Pity really, he was a decent enough chap, but he had no influence, and not a lot of get up and go, and when it came to it he couldn’t raise a bean of finance, and there’s no sentiment in business, Inspector. Gerry made it clear, he told him straight, if he couldn’t help to save the outfit he would have to go.’

‘And that’s what happened?’ asked Walter.

Holly nodded again.

‘Munro took the huff and buggered off. He didn’t get a penny for his share in the business; it must have rankled terribly, especially when you see what the organisation has grown into today.’

‘It’s profitable now?’ asked Karen.

‘Yes, very,’ she said. ‘You only have to look at this place to see that. Bought and paid for, this house is, not a penny owed on any mortgage either. Neil will be a very wealthy young man one day, just so long as he sorts himself out, stops acting the goat, and dumps that fat cradle snatcher.’

‘So what happened to Munro Ford?’ asked Walter.

‘Last I heard he was driving a taxi.’

‘Ouch!’ said Karen.

‘Precisely,’ said Holly.

‘And Gerry raised the money?’ asked Walter.

‘Yes, he did.’

‘All hundred and sixty K of it?’ persisted Walter.

‘He did.’

‘From the banks?’ asked Karen.

‘No! Course not! They wouldn’t touch him. Not back then.’

‘So from where?’ asked Walter.

‘He wouldn’t tell me for ages, years after.’

‘But you know now?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘So where did the cash come from?’ asked Karen.

Holly paused for a few seconds as if weighing up whether to reveal what she knew.

‘The Lodge of course.’

‘The Masonic Lodge?’ asked Karen.

Holly nodded.

There was a moment’s silence as they all thought about that; then Walter said, ‘There’s something else I’d like to ask you.’

‘You’d better be quick, I’m getting very tired.’

‘Yesterday, just as we arrived, we saw a young woman leaving.’

‘Ah, you mean Suzanne?’

‘Do we?’ asked Karen.

‘The pretty blonde?’ clarified Holly.

Walter nodded.

‘I suppose you’d like to know who she is.’

‘Yes,’ said Karen. ‘We would.’

‘Well she’s... she’s, Gerry’s mistress.’

Another brief silence and then Walter said, ‘And you don’t mind?’

‘Course I mind! But there is nothing I can do about it, is there? He, Gerry that is, has, what shall we say, a very large libido, and, well, not to put too fine a point on it, I, with this condition,’ and she contemptuously glanced down at her own failing body, ‘can no longer fulfil his wishes. I suppose it’s only fair. She’s a decent enough kid, and to tell you the truth; we have become quite close friends. Crazy isn’t it? Best pals with my husband’s bit on the side.’

‘Where did he meet her?’ asked Karen.

‘The last holiday we went on, Portugal it was, Suzanne was one of the airhostesses. Gerry took a shine to her right off, as he usually does, and she