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

on it, even Karen letting herself be persuaded to try some. The same model palace was out on display, and Gerry Swaythling had been topping up his tan. His new white teeth stood out against his face, and that was the way he liked it.

Walter and Karen were sitting a little way back, on the visitor’s side of the desk. Gerry eyed the black bloke hunched over his coffee like a grizzly bear, the girl relaxing in the chair, her legs crossed, displaying a little leg. She was easy on the eye; that was undeniable, though Gerry guessed she would have a score of admirers lurking in the undergrowth.

She had a way of smirking as she spoke that some men might find irritating, disconcerting even, but Gerry didn’t. He quite liked it, for he imagined it sent out come and get me signals. He saw such signals, real or imaginary, every day of the week. She was giving another positive signal too. Her right leg, the top one was slowly moving back and forth, the foot thrusting gently in and out, rhythmically, a sure-fire sign in Gerry’s eyes that she was interested in him. He’d seen that telltale movement many times before, and it was always a big plus point.

Walter guzzled the remainder of his coffee and set the china cup and saucer down on the low glass table.

‘So, Mister Swaythling, why didn’t you tell us you are a member of the Pythagoras Lodge?’

‘Call me Gerry, please, fact is, you didn’t ask,’ and he exchanged eye contact with Karen. His eyebrows jumped nervously, hers were as still as Stonehenge. ‘And anyway, unless the law has changed, there is nothing wrong with being a member of the Masons. Why don’t you join? Do you want me to propose you? You should see the charity work we do...’

Walter had heard it all a thousand times before, and didn’t want to hear it again, and he didn’t want to join either, and said, ‘It might have helped.’

‘I don’t see how.’

‘Because, Mister Swaythling, you borrowed a significant amount of money from someone in the Lodge to enable you to buy out Munro Ford, and save the business.’

‘Oh yes, and who have you been talking to?’

‘That is irrelevant, the question is, who did you borrow the money from? Has it been paid back? And did the arrangement end amicably?’

‘I really can’t see the relevance of all this.’

Karen jumped in, ‘The relevance, Mister Swaythling, is that if the loan was not repaid, and if the whole arrangement turned sour, the lender might have decided to put pressure on you, by targeting your son, and in so doing, murdered, perhaps accidentally, Jeffrey Player.’

Gerry Swaythling uttered a nervous laugh.

‘You’re barking up the wrong tree, young woman. The arrangement has not turned sour. It’s a ridiculous idea. You are wasting your time with this line of enquiry.’

Walter noted the use of the present tense. Has not, not did not, the arrangement was ongoing; the loan had not been repaid.

‘So the loan has never been repaid in full?’

Swaythling shifted uneasily in his chair and muttered, ‘The loan is being satisfactorily serviced.’

‘Oh come on, Mister Swaythling, that won’t do, it isn’t a straight answer. How much of the loan is outstanding, and how much is being repaid?’

‘This has nothing to do with the attacks on Neil! And if I may say so, it has nothing to do with you either.’

‘We will decide that,’ said Walter. ‘How much are you paying?’

There was a short silence as if Gerry was weighing up his options. Then he said softly, ‘Three grand a month.’

‘And how long has this been going on?’ asked Walter.

‘For longer than I care to remember.’

‘And how long will it go on for?’ asked Karen.

Another pause for thought, another short silence, then he let slip from the side of his mouth, ‘In perpetuity.’

‘You are repaying three thousand pounds a month forever?’ clarified Walter.

Swaythling looked most uncomfortable. He glanced at Karen as if for sympathy. She thought he looked like a chastised boy at some upper class prep school, and now he didn’t seem far from tears. Pathetic.

Eventually Swaythling bobbed his head.

‘So you are now paying £36,000 a year to service the debt?’ said Walter.

Again Swaythling nodded as if he couldn’t bear to hear it spoken out loud.

‘And how long has this been going on for?’

‘Fourteen years.’

Walter pursed his lips and stared at the false grey ceiling. Walter’s own grey matter churned over, albeit slowly.

‘That’s over half a million.’

‘Yes!’ said Swaythling, one short sharp single abrupt word. ‘So what?’

‘With no sign of it ever ending?’ clarified Karen.

He didn’t look at her this time, just nodded again, and glanced nervously at his watch.

‘And you are happy to pay this forever?’ asked Walter.

Swaythling shrugged his shoulders as if to say, what choice do I have?

‘Is Langley Wells happy with the arrangement?’ asked Walter.

‘I suppose... What has it got to do with him?’

‘I think we both know that he is the lender,’ said Karen.

‘I’m not confirming that, and regardless of who it is, it is not illegal, we have done nothing wrong.’

‘It is illegal,’ said Walter, ‘if you have borrowed money from Langley Wells, and are paying excessive interest, because he does not have a credit licence to lend, in fact he has been expressly banned from obtaining one by the Office of Fair Trading.’

‘Be that as it may, it makes no difference to me; this is a private arrangement between friends. It is all legal and above board.’

‘That’s debateable,’ said Karen.

Walter again. ‘In effect you are being blackmailed by Langley Wells to give him £3,000 a month, every month, forever. Why bother?’

‘Blackmail is an emotive word.’

‘Why don’t you just stop paying? Tell him enough is enough is enough. You have more than adequately repaid the loan,’ said Walter. ‘Several times over.’

‘I think we both know that that would not be advisable, and anyway, I can afford it, it’s chicken feed, really.’

‘That’s not the point,’ said Walter.

‘What hold does he have over you, Mister Swaythling?’ asked