‘This? Nobody comes here. You’re lucky to find me in. This is just a place to keep records and make phone calls. All my business appointments take place in fine restaurants around Fitzrovia or Marylebone High Street, or at my club. The Athenaeum. Perhaps you know it?’
Banks shook his head. ‘I never was very clubbable. What exactly is your business?’
‘What it says on the door.’
‘That sounds like some sort of dodgy tax avoidance scheme to me. Offshore banking. International Investment Solutions.’
‘It’s a complicated world out there, and taxation is only a part of it.’
‘What other services do you offer?’
Havers glanced at his watch. ‘I don’t mean to rush you, but are you interested in becoming a client or are you just making polite small talk?’
‘I’d like to know.’
‘Very well. I’m part of a larger network of companies, and we offer just about any financial service – legal financial service, mostly investment opportunities – you can imagine.’
‘All international?’
‘Not all.’
‘Is property development investment one of your specialities?’
‘We don’t mind investing in property development occasionally, as long as it seems sound. But you have to remember that I’m in the business of investing British money abroad, not in domestic markets, and it’s often difficult to get a clear perspective on overseas properties. The laws can be so complicated. That doesn’t apply to my personal investments, of course.’
‘The Drewick airfield shopping centre? Does that ring a bell?’
‘Yes. I have a middling amount of my own money invested in the project, through a subsidiary.’
‘Retail Perfection?’
‘That’s the one. You have done your research. Anyway, I have a number of small investments in shopping centres. Can’t go wrong with them in a consumer society like this one.’
‘As long as people have the money to spend.’
‘Oh come, come. That’s hardly an issue. People will spend whether they have any money or not. That’s the nature of capitalism.’
‘Maybe so. But I’m still interested in Drewick. Do you keep up to date on what’s happening there?’
‘I trust Venture Properties to keep me informed. As far as I know, there’s been no movement for some time. Some minor problem with zoning laws. We expect it to be settled soon.’
‘But Venture would let you know as soon as any impediments to progress were removed?’
‘Of course. I should think so.’
‘I see.’ That meant Havers would be in a good position to switch operations from Drewick to some other location if he did happen to be involved in rural crime. ‘I understand you visited North Yorkshire recently.’
‘My, my. Am I under surveillance?’
‘Don’t tell me you didn’t know.’
‘Well, I very much doubt you’d be here if they didn’t know I know, if you see what I mean.’
‘Exactly. So who were you visiting up there?’
‘My wife’s brother and his wife live in Richmond.’
‘And you stayed with them?’
‘Of course.’
‘All the time? Sunday to Tuesday?’
‘Why wouldn’t I? I happen to get on well with them, and I like the Dales.’
‘Did your wife accompany you?’
Havers looked down at his desk. ‘My wife is dead, Mr Banks.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘It’s been some years now. But Gordon, Cathy and I have always been close. We still maintain strong family ties. Is there anything else?’
‘Were you with them all the time?’
‘Of course not. I did a bit of touring around by myself. The weather was bad, though, so that dampened my spirits. Still, it’s a fine part of the world.’
‘Did you visit Belderfell Pass?’
‘No. I know it, of course, but I’d avoid it in such poor conditions.’
‘Visit any farms in Swainsdale?’
‘No. I didn’t visit Swainsdale at all. What is it you’re after? I just drove around a bit, went for a pub lunch here and there, looked in a few antique shops – I collect antiques – and I spent some time with my family. We had a trip to Castle Bolton. It’s always been one of my favourite historical spots. Very manageable. What’s your problem with that?’
‘I have no problem with Castle Bolton, Mr Havers. It’s just the timing. Did you meet with a Ronald Tanner, Carl Utley, Michael Lane or Morgan Spencer?’
‘I can’t say I’ve ever heard any of those names.’
‘What about John Beddoes?’
‘Doesn’t ring a bell.’
‘Are you sure the name John Beddoes doesn’t ring any bells?’
‘I’m afraid not. Should it?’
‘Indeed it should. You worked with him in the stockbroking business in the mid-eighties. You were friends. You socialised together. Snorted coke. Drank champagne from the bottle. Painted the town red.’
‘Now hang on a… just a minute.’ Havers snapped his fingers. ‘Of course! Bedder Beddoes. How could I forget? Yes, I knew him, back in the day. It was a long time ago, though.’
‘Bedder Beddoes?’
‘Use your imagination, Mr Banks. We were young and free.’
‘A lot of coke gone up the nasal passages since then?’
‘That was one mistake. I don’t do that sort of thing any more. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t.’ He patted his chest. ‘Heart.’
‘Are you telling me you have one, or that there’s something wrong with it?’
‘Ha ha. Very funny. I’m saying I’ve had two heart attacks. Cocaine would kill me. I’m allowed two units of wine a day. Do you know how hard that is?’
Banks could only imagine. ‘So we’ve established that you do know John Beddoes, and you did work with him some years ago, but you didn’t visit him in Yorkshire last week? Did you know he now owns a farm there?’
‘Bedder? No. I didn’t even know he lived there. We were good mates once, it’s true. But you know how it goes. You drift apart over time. And those times, well, they were heady indeed. Fuelled by coke and champagne, as you say. The memory tends to fade quickly, if indeed it registers at all. It went by in a whirl, I’m afraid. I’m only lucky I still had my wits left when the bubble burst. I was able to get into international banking. That’s where I learned most of what I know about overseas investments.’
‘So if we were to dig into your financial affairs, the financial affairs of your company and your movements over the past while, we wouldn’t find any sort of intersection with John Beddoes and his interests?’
‘I couldn’t guarantee that, but they would be none that I’m aware of. He’s not a client, if that’s what you mean.’
Havers sounded nervous at the prospect. It was obvious that he was lying, but Banks didn’t think he was going to get any further with him. By denying that he knew Beddoes, though, Havers had unintentionally told Banks a lot. Why deny it unless Beddoes was involved? Or unless Havers, himself, was involved? Havers had pulled himself out of the hole quickly, but not quickly enough to convince Banks that he had forgotten ‘Bedder’ Beddoes’ existence. No doubt he had lied about other things, too. He wasn’t going to admit to knowing any of the others, thugs like Tanner and Spencer, or to using the hangar at the airfield as a loading bay for stolen farm equipment. But by talking to him, and by letting him know that he knew, Banks thought he might just have ruffled things up enough that Havers, or someone in the organisation, would make a mistake. He still didn’t know how deeply Beddoes was involved – after all, it was his expensive tractor that had been reported stolen – but these two old friends certainly had the knowledge between them to run a sideline in stolen farm equipment. Beddoes knew something about farming, and he lived in a large rural area; he had also been a merchant banker, so he knew about financing. All they needed were connections to the illegal trade routes, and Havers’ international contacts might easily have supplied those, according to what Joanna MacDonald had said. Banks decided to lay his cards on the table before leaving.