Already Dead(56)

‘We do have some large claims to deal with, of course.’

‘Yes, large amounts of money that might make all the difference to someone’s life, whether they can cope with their problems and carry on.’

‘That’s not our concern, though.’

‘Exactly.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean it probably becomes very clear to people that you don’t feel it’s your concern, that you just don’t care about them.’

‘It’s very unfair to portray our company like that.’

‘Maybe. But I’m sure it must be a perception.’

‘So much for the torture theory,’ said Irvine a few minutes later when they were back in the car. ‘Turner had multiple paintballing injuries on his body, that’s all. He obviously wasn’t wearing enough padding.’

‘It sounds like a dangerous activity. Are we sure it’s legal?’

‘Properly organised venues are. They give you helmets and face masks. Padded gloves too. Most of the serious injuries have happened when someone gets a paintball in the face at close range. You can lose your sight that way. But if you’re wearing the right gear, all you risk is a bit of bruising. And you have to be unlucky for a ball to hit you somewhere unprotected.’

‘Turner was hit more than once. Mrs van Doon recorded fifteen injuries on his body.’

‘True.’

Fry was on automatic pilot as she drove back through the centre of Edendale towards West Street. She found herself stopped at traffic lights on Buxton Road.

‘I know it’s all supposed to be about team building. But Mr Edge dropped in a comment about being able to splatter the boss with paint. So it’s surely an opportunity to take out grievances on each other. And to create new ones too?’

Irvine nodded. ‘Was Glen Turner very unpopular, do you think?’

‘It’s starting to look as though he was.’

As they drove on, Fry glanced at Irvine. He still looked too young for the job. He had a bit too much of the adolescent about him to give much confidence to the law-abiding public. He’d yet to gain the self-assurance that came from experience, though he must have dealt with a wide range of incidents during his time in uniform. But he had enthusiasm, didn’t he? A sharp eye, a few new ideas to offer? A different interpretation to share?

‘What did you think of Ralph Edge, then?’ she asked.

‘I didn’t like him.’

Fry waited, but nothing else was offered. ‘Is that it?’

Irvine blinked. ‘I don’t know what else you want me to say.’

‘Great.’

She found herself wishing that Ben Cooper was in the car with her, instead of Luke Irvine. If she’d asked Cooper for his opinion, he would have given it without hesitation. In fact, he would have shared his views even if she didn’t ask. Stopping him was the problem. And it would have been a thoughtful, considered opinion he’d formed of the man they’d just interviewed. He might have had an instinct about him … Instincts weren’t always right, but sometimes they were. A balanced judgement, a useful insight. That was what she wanted. Fry was surprised how much she’d come to depend on it. Irvine couldn’t hope to compete, or didn’t want to. Perhaps he was too nervous to express an honest opinion when she gave him the chance. Was she so intimidating? Surely not.

Back in the office, Fry opened the personnel file that Nathan Baird had given her at Prospectus Assurance.

She could see from a glance at his CV that Glen Turner had been very serious about a career in insurance. Much more so than some of his colleagues, probably. It was the same in every profession. Some people just coasted along, doing the job and nothing more. But others were ambitious, always stepped forward to volunteer for new opportunities, and liked to get the appropriate training under their belt, just in case. Fry could sympathise with that.

But this was different. She wasn’t sure why, but she got the impression in Turner’s case that he might have been too obsessive, a man so focused on the job that he didn’t have time for a social life, or any outside interests. That wasn’t healthy. Lack of balance could lead an individual down the wrong path. It was possible to get things out of proportion, or out of perspective, and forget what was truly important in life. She’d seen it in so many case files, heard it in the story told by perfectly ordinary people who’d ended up in an interview room trying to explain their actions. She wondered if Glen Turner had been one of those people.

It wasn’t clear at what point Turner had decided insurance was the ideal career. His father, Clive, had been a railway engineer. But it must have been quite early on in his education that he started to drift in that direction. Following an HND in Business and Management at the University of Derby’s Kedleston Road campus, Turner had gained an MSc in Insurance and Risk Management from Glasgow Caledonian University, a three-year distance learning course, which had no doubt allowed him to remain living at home with his mother.