Cold Heart (Detective Kate Matthews #3)






The offices of Two Up and Two Down Site Surveyors Ltd. occupied the third and fourth floors of the Norwich House building across the road from the redeveloped Southampton train station, barely a stone’s throw from the police headquarters building. It had been home to many a major corporation down the years, ranging from telecommunications to banking, but was now home to anyone prepared to pay the rent.

Kate and Laura presented their identification at the reception desk, which served the community of businesses based in the fourteen-storey structure, which looked more like an inner-city tower block than a cut-and-thrust home for thriving businesses. The old boy behind the desk had a wispy white moustache and eagerly asked them questions about the nature of their visit, not because he had to, but because he was just keen to speak to another person. A television screen in the corner facing the desk showed a muted cooking programme with colourful subtitles bouncing along the bottom of the screen.

He pointed them towards the lift access when it became obvious they weren’t going to provide him with the gossip he so desperately craved.

When the doors reopened on the fourth floor, they found themselves in an almost identical atrium, with doors to male and female toilets directly ahead of them, sandwiching a tiny kitchen, and large fire doors to the left leading to the offices. The doors were locked, forcing Kate to press the buzzer.

The intercom crackled a moment later. ‘TUTD Surveyors,’ a squeaky voice replied.

‘DI Kate Matthews and DC Laura Trotter to see Mr Liam Phillips,’ Kate replied and the door’s unlocking mechanism activated a moment later, allowing them entry into some kind of waiting area, the tub chairs looking sturdy and functional, rather than comfy and welcoming. On the walls hung artistic impressions of famous landmarks from across the globe, including the Eiffel Tower, the Golden Gate Bridge and the Sydney Opera House.

A moment later, a man in his late twenties, dressed in a white, open-neck business shirt, charcoal suit jacket and trousers with a light grey pin-stripe running through them, offered a greeting. ‘Hi, I’m Liam Phillips,’ he said warmly, a South African lilt to his voice.

He extended a big and warm handshake to both, before leading them along the floor to an enclosed office space, surrounded by satin glass windows. Inside, a large mahogany desk dominated the room, with two monitors on one end and a stack of binders on the other. The large black leather seat on the far side of the desk wouldn’t have looked out of place on Mastermind.

He invited them to sit in the two reclining leather seats across from him. Kate realised why as soon as they had: his tall build and more upright seat left him hovering above them. ‘What can I do for you today?’ he asked flashing them an expensive toothy smile.

‘I’ll stand, if you don’t mind,’ Kate said, pushing herself back up and moving to the window that overlooked the road running past the building, and beyond it, Hill Lane. ‘You’re overseeing the swimming pool development at St Bartholomew’s, aren’t you?’ she asked, still looking out of the window.

‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘We’re due to begin demolition of the old building in the next ten days.’

‘Must be pretty handy,’ Kate observed. ‘The school’s what, a ten-minute walk from here at most?’

‘I wouldn’t know,’ he replied confidently. ‘I’ve never walked it. But, yeah, I suppose you’re right.’

‘How come your company’s undertaking the work? Did you bid for it, or did the school approach you?’

The first trace of unease entered his voice. ‘We bid for it, and we won.’

‘Bit unusual, isn’t it?’ Kate continued, her breath starting to fog the window slightly. ‘I’d have thought a school would use the local council building inspectorate.’

‘They were going to, originally, but the job was put out to tender at several development teams across the county. We were the only ones who offered to undertake the building inspections as well as handling the architectural side of matters. We offered the best value for money, I think. It’s not uncommon for government-run operations to hire external parties for this kind of work. It’s a great opportunity for our company to showcase our talents, and maybe win some other contracts on the back of it.’

Kate turned to face him. ‘Other schools?’

‘Schools, council properties, private business facilities, you name it. It’s an exciting time for TUTD.’

Kate’s eye caught sight of a framed photograph on the wall behind him. Phillips was in the foreground laughing and chatting with a stand-up comedian Kate recognised, but couldn’t name. ‘When was that?’

He looked up at the picture. ‘Oh that. My company won the Best Newcomer award at the South Coast Property Awards last summer. It was a great night, both socially and for the company.’

‘You own the business?’

‘I’m the majority shareholder, and co-founder.’

Kate eyed the framed degree certificate hanging next to the photograph. ‘You studied at Southampton?’

‘It’s why I moved to the UK to study.’

‘When did you graduate?’

‘In 2013.’

‘And then decided to stay?’

‘I wanted to give something back. I like it here. Close to the sea, and some of my friends from uni are still local.’

‘Impressive,’ Kate nodded. Everything inside the office looked impressive, and that’s what was starting to niggle at her conscience. Everything had been carefully chosen and reflected a successful, thriving company, but she knew from experience that things were not always as they seemed.

‘When did you win the school contract?’

‘We signed the paperwork on Guy Fawkes night last year.’

‘And completion is scheduled for…?’

‘We aim to have the new pool and complex unveiled before term starts in September.’

‘That’s a lot of work to complete between now and then.’

‘Indeed, but nothing we can’t handle.’

Kate crossed to the opposite window, overlooking the train tracks, and beyond it a large cruise ship berthed in the docks. ‘Do you spend much time up at the school?’

‘I am required to keep Mrs Kilpatrick updated with progress. My team are carrying out various checks to calculate the most efficient way to bring down the old building, causing the minimal amount of fuss to the day-to-day running of the school.’

‘How often would you say you’re up there, then?’

‘It varies. Sometimes a couple of times a week, other weeks, not at all. I’ve probably been up there five or six times this year.’

‘Were you there this week?’ Kate asked as casually as she could manage.

‘Uh… I’ll have to check my diary. What’s all this about? Has one of my men done something wrong?’

Kate spun on her heel to face him. ‘What makes you say that?’

Phillips looked flustered. His voice was awkward as he started to speak, but rapidly calmed. ‘Well, I… uh, what I mean is… all this: the two of you asking me about the school contract. I don’t understand what we’re supposed to have done wrong. It’s not every day I’m blessed with a visit from two such stunningly attractive detectives.’

Kate felt sickened by his smile; smarm wouldn’t get him anywhere with either of them.

‘We’re investigating a possible murder in the old sports hall,’ Kate said, without batting an eyelid. She knew it was a risk to be so open, but she wanted to gauge his reaction.

Flustered for a moment, he blinked multiple times as his brain registered that Kate wasn’t joking. ‘Jesus! A murder? Who died?’

‘We’re still investigating. When were you last at the school, Mr Phillips? I’d appreciate if you would check that diary of yours for us now.’

For the first time, he looked genuinely uncomfortable having the two of them in his office. He began to anxiously type, before swivelling one of the screens for them to see. ‘I was there with two of my team on Thursday.’

‘Doing what?’

He studied the screen. ‘Uh… that’s right, we had to test the building’s foundations.’

Stephen Edger's books