Already Dead(76)

‘Well, is there actually any proof who did it?’ asked Edge in an innocent tone.

‘Mr Turner’s statement to his solicitor.’

‘Would that stand up in court?’ He laughed again. ‘No, it’s a fair cop. But it was all part of the office banter, you know. Someone gets paintballed every time. This time, it was Glen. It could just as easily have been me, or Nathan Baird. Nothing to get upset about. He didn’t report it to the police or anything, did he?’

‘No, he didn’t,’ admitted Fry.

‘There you are, then. He calmed down, saw the funny side eventually. He probably did something weird to make himself feel better, if I know Glen. Bought himself a little present, maybe. Oh, I’m sorry he’s dead and all that, but he was a bit of a funny bugger in some ways.’

‘Maybe so.’

‘Speaking of funny buggers,’ said Edge, as she was about to end the call. ‘You’ve got some among your people too, haven’t you? A right weirdo we had here this afternoon.’

When she got back into the office, soaking wet and uncomfortable, Fry found that Luke Irvine had been developing a theory. Suspicious, Fry glanced at Gavin Murfin, who smirked back at her round a cheese pasty. Had he been taking the mentoring role too seriously?

‘Go on then, Luke,’ she said. ‘Let’s hear it.’

‘Well, first of all, you have to realise there are a lot of angry people around at the moment. I mean home owners who’ve lost everything in the floods, and not for the first time either. This time round, some of them have been abandoned by the insurance companies.’

‘Yes, I’ve heard that. There was a failure to reach a deal that would let everyone get flood insurance, even if they’d made claims before.’

‘Exactly. So imagine how those people are feeling now. Betrayed and upset.’

‘What has this got to do with Glen Turner?’

‘It was his job,’ said Irvine. ‘Turning down legitimate claims.’

‘Wait a minute,’ said Fry. ‘Are you suggesting a posse of outraged citizens are roaming the country to hunt down insurance claims adjusters?’

‘No, but—’

‘What, then?’

‘Well, it would only take one or two, wouldn’t it? People who had personal dealings with Glen Turner, and were furious at what they saw as an injustice. Angry enough to want revenge. Some form of justice. It’s difficult to focus that sort of emotion on an anonymous institution or the people working for it. But if you’ve got an actual human target for your vengeance right in front of you, that’s a different thing.’

‘If home owners couldn’t get insurance against flooding any more, it surely wasn’t the fault of a claims adjuster like Turner,’ put in Hurst. ‘Isn’t it the job of underwriters to assess the risks?’

‘Probably. But if you’re angry enough, who’s going to be thinking logically or asking questions about the structure of the insurance industry? No, I don’t think so. A target is a target. It’s whatever comes within reach.’ Irvine looked pleased with himself now. ‘Revenge isn’t about a fair distribution of justice, but about making yourself feel better.’

‘So whoever carried this out, it might all have been about them, and not about Glen Turner at all?’

‘That’s it,’ said Irvine. ‘It’s a small flaw in the theory of victimology, I think.’

‘You’ll be lecturing to Senior Investigating Officers at Bramshill next.’

‘It’s true, though, isn’t it?’

Fry looked at him. It wasn’t very compelling as a theory, of course. It had too much of a revenge fantasy about it, and she’d never be able to justify putting resources into following it up. Not unless some concrete evidence presented itself, which seemed unlikely. But at least Irvine was thinking for himself a bit. That fresh view was what she needed. A challenging opinion, even if she didn’t agree with it. It was surprising how much that helped to focus her own mind.

‘Mr Turner bought his mother a new greenhouse recently,’ she said. ‘Expensive looking. He had a windfall from somewhere.’

‘There’s no record of any large amounts of money coming into his bank account,’ said Irvine. ‘And since he’s been paying all the household bills for the property on St John’s Street, he hasn’t been putting much aside in savings from his salary either.’

‘He must have received cash.’

‘A pay-off for something?’

‘Yes, but I don’t know what.’

Photographs of Glen Turner’s Renault Mégane were on her desk, including a shot of the fossil and its accompanying receipt from the National Stone Centre. Well, she’d said that she wanted everything.