‘Right, Mr Tanner,’ he said eventually, his manner brisk. ‘Thank you for your cooperation. I have no further questions — for the moment. You may leave.’
Tanner didn’t move.
‘Look, if there is any way I can help you, Mr Vogel, please tell me,’ he said. ‘My grandson is missing. If it will help you find him, you can ask any questions you like. I want you to. Please. Even if I find it offensive, I will try to answer. Anything to get Fred back.’
The man was a picture of honest perplexity, a worried grandfather in great distress but still eager to assist.
Vogel was unimpressed. ‘You may leave, Mr Tanner,’ he repeated coldly.
‘We will let you know if and when we need to speak to you again, sir,’ added DC Lowe.
Henry shot her a derisory glance. Then, without another word, he rose from his armchair and left the room.
Vogel asked for Hardcastle to be brought to the video room immediately, before he and Tanner had time to exchange notes.
Hardcastle entered the room without speaking. Vogel gestured for him to sit on the armchair Henry Tanner had vacated. The DI allowed DC Lowe to declare who was present, the time and so on, for the benefit of the recording equipment.
He then began the interview much as he had with Tanner, asking Hardcastle for an outline of that morning’s events.
When he approached the topic of the letter, it was as if a shutter came down. Neither Tanner nor Hardcastle could have known before their respective interviews that Joyce had informed the police about the letter. Vogel wondered if they had speculated about that before leaving their office, if they had guessed that she would, and if they had in any way colluded in their stories. Or indeed, if they needed to do so. It was possible that Henry Tanner had been telling the truth. Vogel didn’t like the man, but that was no reason to assume that he was guilty of involvement in the disappearance of his own grandson.
Asked when he first learned of the existence of the letter, Hardcastle responded cockily, ‘When Charlie gave it to me, of course. His instruction that it was to be opened by Joyce in the event of his death was written on the envelope.’
‘I see. And when was that?’
‘I’m not sure exactly,’ said Hardcastle. ‘Though I probably have a record of it somewhere. It was about two or three months before his death.’
‘Did Mr Mildmay indicate why he felt it necessary to write such a letter?’
‘No.’
‘Was he ill, or did he suspect that he might have some condition that would shorten his life?’ interjected DI Lowe.
‘No. Charlie was in robust good health, as far as I knew anyway. Liked his sport, and his sailing in particular. Didn’t smoke or drink to excess — well, not often.’ Hardcastle smiled.
‘And he was only forty-three,’ commented Vogel. ‘Didn’t it strike you as rather morbid for a fit and relatively young man to write a letter with such an instruction?’
‘Well, actually, no,’ replied Hardcastle. ‘It’s not as unusual as you might think. A lot of people do it when they write their wills, just in case, as it were. Come to think of it, Charlie and I had been clarifying one or two minor points in his will, and he wrote the letter at around the same time. So it seemed natural enough to me, and certainly not morbid. Like an insurance policy.’
‘What points were you clarifying in Mr Mildmay’s will?’ asked Vogel.
‘I’m not at liberty to discuss that with you Detective Inspector,’ said Hardcastle. ‘I have to respect client confidentiality.’
‘Mr Hardcastle, your client is dead, and his son has disappeared. I think there are more important matters to consider here than your concept of ethics within the legal profession, don’t you?’
Hardcastle was silent for a few seconds, as if considering what Vogel had said. Finally he appeared to relent.
‘It wasn’t anything major. His financial situation had changed in that Henry was in the process of handing over far more of the running of the company to Charlie, and his income and stake in the company had increased as a result. The majority of Charlie’s estate was always to pass to Joyce, and that is tax exempt, but there were certain bequests to his children that we needed to review for tax purposes. Mark was to inherit his father’s share of the business and Charlie wanted assurance that the inheritance process would run smoothly.’
Vogel felt his antennae waggle. He thought about the nervous young man he had met earlier. The young man his instincts had told him could be afraid of something more than the possibility that his little brother might have gone for good.
‘Mark inherited that?’ Vogel enquired. ‘Not Joyce?’
‘Yes, Mark,’ agreed Hardcastle. ‘Or he will, once Charlie has been officially declared dead and a death certificate issued. But that’s only a formality. And there’s no surprise there: father to son has been the tradition with Tanner-Max since the outset.’
‘I see,’ said Vogel. ‘And your instruction was to forward that letter to Joyce immediately in the event of his death, was it not?’
‘Well, yes.’ Stephen Hardcastle sounded less sure of himself now.
‘Well, yes,’ Vogel repeated. ‘But in fact the letter was not forwarded to Mrs Mildmay until earlier this week. Can you tell me why that was?’
‘It was filed in the wrong place,’ replied Hardcastle. ‘In my personal file, in fact.’
‘And you weren’t aware of that?’
‘No, of course not. Not until a few days ago when Janet told me she’d found it there.’
‘You didn’t notice that the letter was missing at the time of Charlie’s death, Mr Hardcastle?’ asked DI Lowe.
‘No, I didn’t, and I can’t explain that except to say I was in a state of total shock,’ replied Hardcastle.
‘So you didn’t notice that it wasn’t in Charlie’s file along with his will, and you didn’t think to look for it?’ persisted Angela Lowe.
‘No, I didn’t. You have to understand, it was a dreadful time for everyone connected with Charlie. There were all sorts of papers concerning the business that had to be sent to Joyce for her to sign — Joyce had power of attorney for Charlie, thank God. And Janet dealt with the mechanics of most of that. I suppose I assumed that Janet would have sent the letter to Joyce along with everything else. To tell the truth, I don’t remember much about that period immediately after Charlie’s death. He was my closest friend. It was all I could do to function. I did my best to fulfil my professional obligations, but I know full well I wasn’t up to speed. So it’s hardly surprising I didn’t give the letter a second thought until Janet told me she’d found it.’
‘And when was that, Mr Hardcastle?’ asked Vogel.
‘Don’t you know, Mr Vogel?’ snapped Hardcastle. ‘On Monday of this week. Janet left messages on my phone when I was in London with Henry. I was busy and didn’t get back to her. Quite correctly, she acted on her own initiative and posted the letter without further delay.’
‘Who would have been responsible for wrongly filing that letter, Mr Hardcastle?’ asked Vogel. ‘Who put it in your personal file rather than Mr Mildmay’s?’
‘Well, I don’t know for certain, but presumably Janet. She does most of the filing. I rather assumed that was why she was so keen to get the letter off to Joyce when she did find it.’
‘Janet says she didn’t place the letter in your personal file either by intention or otherwise, nor in any other file.’ Vogel paused to let his words sink in. ‘She is adamant that she had never seen the letter before finding it in your file earlier this week.’
Hardcastle shrugged. ‘Janet is one of our most trusted employees. But none of us like to admit our mistakes, do we?’
‘I see. Are you absolutely sure, then, that you didn’t file that letter yourself, Mr Hardcastle? In your own personal file, either by mistake or deliberately.’