‘Norman and Velvet, how did you get on with Stuart Piper and with the Slippery Finn?’
Jack Alexander raised a hand. ‘Boss, Polly Sweeney and I went to see Jorma Mahlanen, at Norman’s request, because Norman had a series of medical appointments he needed to attend. Mahlanen was, as expected, evasive. He did finally admit, under questioning, that he knew Charlie Porteous, and had over the years bought a number of works of art from him. He also said that Porteous had contacted him, a few days before his death, saying he had what he believed to be an original Fragonard painting of spring, part of his Four Seasons. But he said the price Porteous wanted was too rich for him.’
‘And that was how much?’ Grace asked.
‘Five million pounds,’ Alexander replied.
‘That fits with the value Desouta put on the painting on the Antiques Roadshow,’ Grace said. ‘Could Mahlanen offer any explanation why his number was on the burner phone of one of the offenders we suspect murdered Porteous?’
Alexander shook his head and Sweeney nodded in confirmation. ‘He couldn’t, no.’
‘Did you believe him?’
‘He showed us some of his paintings and said that a quarter of a million pounds is pretty much the top price he ever pays.’ He shrugged.
Grace turned to Financial Investigator Emily Denyer. ‘Emily, what intel do we have on how Mahlanen accumulated his wealth?’
Denyer shook her head. ‘None, sir. He has a large number of legitimate business interests, and from the research I carried out, while the maths don’t add up, so far we have nothing to prove any criminal activity.’
‘But you believe Mahlanen is involved in some?’
‘Oh yes. But whether it’s drugs or cybercrime, I can’t yet say.’
‘OK,’ Grace replied. ‘You’ll keep on him?’
‘For sure, sir.’
‘So what about Stuart Piper?’
‘Norman and Velvet interviewed him later in the week,’ Alexander said.
‘Yes, chief,’ Potting said, taking over. ‘And a real charmer he is.’ He looked at Wilde for confirmation. She nodded. ‘A real charmer — not.’
‘He lives in a proper fuck-off historic house, guarded like Fort Knox,’ Potting said, ‘with hunks of hired muscle.’
‘He has unbelievable artwork on the walls,’ Wilde added. ‘Like, the National Gallery eat your heart out!’
‘He gave us an alibi for the night of Porteous’s murder, on 16 October 2015, chief,’ Potting continued. ‘That he was in his home in Barbados, where he normally spends the winter months. He has a very disfigured face, from a homophobic attack on him back in 1979, and claims that damp weather hurts his skin.’
Grace looked down at his notes. ‘Norman, in a previous briefing you told me that while Piper is not on the British police radar, he is on Interpol’s watchlist. What’s that about?’
‘Well,’ Potting said, looking pleased with himself. ‘I’ve been doing some digging over the weekend and spoken to a few of our Interpol contacts. It would appear that Piper has amassed a fortune from recovering works of art that have disappeared over the centuries — looted during times of trouble dating back from the French Revolution to the Nazi occupations. On the surface, all legit, and Piper has never had charges brought against him in any jurisdiction, but it would appear that many of these works of art that he has miraculously found might be very good forgeries. But here’s a big problem for us, chief.’ He fell silent.
‘And that is?’ Grace quizzed.
‘Well, from what I’ve discovered, the last thing the galleries or private collectors of these works, for which they’ve paid huge sums, want to know is that they might be forgeries, which makes identification extremely difficult. Added to which there are a few forgers, working with old canvases and old materials, whose work is apparently near impossible to detect.’
Grace frowned. ‘Does Piper have Fragonards amongst his collection?’
‘He said it would be a dream to have one, sir,’ Velvet Wilde said.
‘Do you believe him?’ Grace asked.
‘He’s very hard to read, sir. He has very little movement of his facial muscles.’
‘There is something I’d like to add from my research of the weekend, chief,’ Potting said, and shot a glance towards Stanstead. ‘I asked Luke to look back into Stuart Piper’s history. Back in 1979, when he was attacked, he very nearly died from his injuries and spent the best part of the following year having his face reconstructed. The records show that the three offenders who carried out this attack were subsequently identified and convicted. During the six years after their release from prison, at two-year intervals, all three were attacked and left with serious injuries. None of these link back to Stuart Piper, but it does seem perhaps a little coincidental.’
‘You’re suggesting these were reprisal attacks either carried out by Piper or orchestrated by him, Norman?’ Grace asked.
‘They might have been, chief. Just a thought. But just supposing Piper was capable of carrying out — or ordering — retribution back then, is it a big stretch to imagine he might resort to murder to get his hands on a painting as valuable as the Fragonard Spring that Charlie Porteous had in his possession?’
Grace considered this for some moments before responding. ‘It’s an interesting hypothesis, Norman, but as you just said, a bit of a stretch. It sounds from what you’ve said that Piper’s MO is finding long-lost works of art around the world, ostensibly returning them to their rightful owners, and either collecting reward money or being duplicitous, having them expertly copied by forgers, retaining originals and passing off forgeries. There’s nothing to suggest he is a brazen art thief, is there? Does he have any past form for burglary or suspected burglary?’
‘Well — no, chief,’ Potting replied reluctantly.
‘It doesn’t make any sense that someone of his wealth would need to resort to murder.’ He looked at Wilde. ‘What do you think, Velvet?’
‘The only reason I can think of, sir, is if he knew the whereabouts of some or all of the other three Fragonard paintings in the series. Or indeed had them himself.’
‘He told you he didn’t, right?’ Grace pressed.
‘He alluded to that, yes.’
‘But he might not have been telling the truth,’ Potting added.
Grace nodded. ‘The only way we’d find that out is by searching his house, and from what you’re telling me, we don’t have anything like enough to obtain a warrant. I think we should add him to our list of POIs, but with no further action for the moment.’ He looked again at Potting and Wilde. They nodded agreement.
51
Thursday, 31 October
The upper level of the car park of the Miller and Carter, formerly the Black Lion pub, in Patcham village at the northern extremity of the city of Brighton and Hove, had been the scene of one of Brighton’s most notorious murders.
It was where, on 12 January 1976, former glamour model Barbara Gaul, wife of millionaire businessman John Gaul, was blasted in the back with a double-barrelled twelve-bore shotgun by two men he had hired to do the hit. She died two months later from her injuries, but while the hitmen were subsequently arrested and given life prison sentences, John Gaul fled to Malta and evaded justice for over a decade before eventually dying, still a free man, from a heart attack.