DI Sean Corrigan Crime Series: 5-Book Collection: Cold Killing, Redemption of the Dead, The Keeper, The Network and The Toy Taker

‘Can I get you a drink? Or is that against the rules? I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.’ He gave Sally a boyish grin full of mischief. She already felt relaxed in his company.

‘Why not? Whatever you’re having will be fine.’

Gibran nodded once at the nearby waiter, who scuttled away immediately. ‘The venison here is excellent,’ he informed her, ‘but a little fussy for my taste. You’ll find I’m a simple man with simple tastes, except when it comes to people, of course.’

It seemed to Sally that he was trying to impress her with his modesty and down-to-earth attitude, despite his obvious wealth and influence. She was duly impressed, but she wasn’t about to let it show. Not yet.

‘So, what is it I can do for you, Sebastian?’

‘Straight to the point.’ He stalled while the waiter served Sally’s wine. ‘I hope you like it. Dominico here tells me it’s a very fine Sancerre and as I am nowhere near as well informed in these matters, I’m completely in his hands.’ Gibran waited for the wine waiter to leave before speaking again. ‘You must tell me if the wine’s any good, then I’ll know whether Dominico’s been ripping me off the last few years.’

She took a sip and smiled at him, holding his gaze for a little too long. She concentrated on sounding businesslike. ‘It’s very nice, thank you. Now, why am I here?’

‘I wish I could say it was purely for pleasure, but I’m guessing you’ve already assumed that’s not the case.’

‘I’m a detective. I try not to make assumptions.’

‘Of course. Sorry,’ Gibran said with natural charm. ‘We’re here because we have a mutual interest in a certain party.’

‘James Hellier?’

‘Yes,’ he confirmed, his expression suddenly serious, the flirtatious, boyish personality evaporating in an instant.

‘Mr Gibran − Sebastian. If you’re here to try and somehow influence my opinion of Hellier’s involvement in this case, then I should warn you—’

‘That’s not my intention,’ Gibran insisted, tapping his glass while speaking. ‘I wouldn’t insult your intelligence. I thought you should know my feelings on the subject, that’s all.’

‘Your feelings on the subject would only be of interest to me if they were somehow relevant to our investigation. So, are they?’

‘To be honest, I’m not sure if it’s relevant or not. I just thought someone connected to the investigation should know, which is why I called you.’

‘Why didn’t you contact DI Corrigan?’

‘I get the feeling he’s not my biggest fan.’

‘Well, I’m here,’ Sally said with an air of resignation. ‘So what is it you think I should know about?’

‘How can I put this?’ Gibran began. ‘When James first came to us, he was a model employee. He served the firm above and beyond all expectations for several years.’ He paused. ‘However …’

‘However what?’ Sally encouraged.

‘I’m sorry.’ Gibran shook his head. ‘It’s not in my nature to talk out of school. I would imagine it’s the same in your job: rule number one being to look out for each other.’

‘Well, you haven’t broken any rules yet, because so far you haven’t told me anything.’

‘And under normal circumstances I wouldn’t tell you.’ Gibran’s blue eyes drilled deeply into Sally’s, showing her a flash of his true power and status. She found him no less attractive for it. ‘It’s just that, lately, well, I’ve found his behaviour to be somewhat … erratic. Unpredictable. Troubling, even. Half the time I don’t know where he is, or who he’s with. He’s missed several high-profile meetings the last few weeks, all of which is out of character.’ Gibran appeared genuinely concerned.

‘When did you first become aware of this change in personality?’ Sally asked.

‘I suppose it started a couple of months ago. And now this latest episode, the police raiding our office, dragging James away like a common criminal. Not exactly the image we’re hoping to portray at Butler and Mason.’

‘No. I don’t suppose it is.’

Gibran leaned across the table, and spoke quietly. ‘Do you really believe he killed that man? Is James capable of such a thing?’

‘What do you think?’ Sally asked.

Gibran leaned away again before replying. ‘I’m not sure, to be honest. Not now. My head’s spinning a little at the moment. I’m coming under some fairly intense pressure from above to resolve this situation.’

‘Has something happened to make you feel that way?’

Gibran sipped his wine before answering. ‘The other day, I went to James’s office to speak to him, to see what I could find out.’

‘I hope you haven’t been playing amateur detective,’ Sally warned him. ‘That could cause us procedural difficulties, especially if you’ve questioned him at all.’

‘No,’ Gibran replied hastily. ‘Nothing like that. But you should understand that I am responsible for a great many things at Butler and Mason and a great many employees. I am, if you like, Butler and Mason’s own internal police force. I will do whatever I have to do to protect the firm and the people within it. If James is putting either at risk, then …’ Gibran let his statement linger.

‘You do what you have to do. But make sure you don’t cross over into our criminal investigation. That would leave us both in a compromised position.’

‘I understand,’ Gibran assured her. ‘You’ve made yourself clear. I have no wish to fall out with the police, especially you.’

‘Good,’ Sally ended the debate. ‘So what did Hellier have to say for himself during this little chat you and he had?’

‘Nothing specific. He seemed very distracted.’

‘Not surprising,’ Sally said dismissively.

‘Indeed. But it was more a feeling I had,’ Gibran explained. ‘I’ve known James for several years and this was the first time I’ve ever felt … well, uncomfortable in his presence, even a little intimidated.’

‘Go on.’

‘I almost felt as if for the first time I was meeting the real James Hellier, and that the person I’d known up till now didn’t really exist.

‘Tell me, Sally,’ Gibran asked, his tone suddenly light-hearted, ‘are you familiar with the work of Friedrich Nietzsche?’

‘I can’t say that I am,’ Sally admitted.

‘Not many people are.’ Gibran dismissed Sally’s lack of knowledge before it could make her uncomfortable. ‘He was a philosopher who believed in men being ruled over by a select group of benevolent supermen. Nonsense, of course. I was talking to James about it, trying to relax him, make him feel less like he was being interviewed, but I almost felt as if James believed in it. I mean, really believed it. He started talking about living his life beyond good and evil, as Nietzsche had decreed. Normally I would have dismissed it, but given all that’s happened, suddenly it sounded … sinister.’

‘Is that it?’

‘Like I said,’ Gibran replied, leaning back into his comfortable chair, ‘it was just a feeling.’

‘Well,’ Sally said after a long pause. ‘If you find or feel anything else, you know how to get hold of me.’

‘Of course.’ Gibran looked around him uncomfortably. ‘You take someone under your wing. You trust them, think you know them. Then all this happens.’ He sipped his wine. ‘He’s not the man I used to know. He may seem the same, but he’s different. To answer your original question: do I think James could be involved in killing those people? The truth is, I simply don’t know any more. The fact I can’t dismiss it out of hand is bad enough, I dread to think …’

‘One way or another, we’ll all know the answer soon enough.’