Well, its the bank. I got this from them this morning, he said, tentatively holding out a folded sheet of paper.
I put him out of his misery and took it from him. He looked as if Id taken the weight of the world off his broad shoulders. I opened it up and ploughed through the mangled verbiage. The bottom line was he had £74,587.34 outstanding on a £100,000 loan and an overdraft of £6,325.67. The Royal Pennine Bank wanted their money back pronto, or theyd seize his home and his business. And their associate finance company would be writing to him separately, basically to tell him his punters wouldnt be stiffing them for any more loans either. And I thought my bank manager wrote stroppy letters. I could see why Ted was looking gutted. I see, I said. And do you have any idea why they wrote this letter?
He looked confused. Well, I rang them up as soon as I got it, like you would. And they said they couldnt discuss it on the phone, would I come in to see them. So I said Id go in this morning. It wasnt my local branch, you see; all the little branches come under the big branch in Stockport now, so I didnt know the bloke whod signed the letter or anything. He paused, waiting for something.
I nodded and smiled encouragingly. That seemed to do the trick.
Well, I went in, like I said, and I saw the chap that signed the letter. And I asked him what it was all about, and he said that if I checked my paperwork, I would see that he wasnt obliged to give me a reason. Right stuffed shirt, he was. Then he said he wasnt at liberty to discuss the banks confidential reasons for their decision. Well, I wasnt happy with that, no way, because Ive not missed a single payment on that loan, not in the four months Ive had it, and Ive reduced the overdraft by four grand over the last six months. I told him, I said, youre not being fair to me. And he just shrugged and said he was sorry. Teds voice rose in outrage. I could see why.
So what happened then? I prompted.
Well, Im afraid I lost my rag a bit, you know? I told him he wasnt bloody sorry at all, and that I wasnt going to leave matters there. Then I walked out.
I struggled to keep a straight face. If that was Teds idea of losing his rag a bit, I could see that someone like Shelley was just what he needed. You must have some idea of whats behind this, Mr Barlow, I prodded.
He looked genuinely baffled as he shook his head. I havent a clue. Ive always given the bank what they were due when it were due. This loan, I took it out so I could expand the business. Weve just moved into a new industrial unit at Cheadle Heath, but I knew business was going well enough to pay back the loan on time.
Are you sure your orders havent dropped back because of the recession and the banks not just taking safety precautions? I hazarded.
He shook his head, his hand nervously heading for his jacket pocket. He stopped, guiltily. Is it all right if I smoke? he asked.
Go right ahead, I responded. I got up to fetch him an ashtray. You were saying? About the effects of the recession?
He dabbed his cigarette nervously at his lips. Well, to be honest, weve not seen it. I think whats happening is that people whove been trying to sell their houses have kind of given up on the idea and decided to go for some improvements to the places theyre in already. You know, loft conversions for extra bedrooms, that kind of thing? Well, a lot of them go for conservatories, to give them an extra reception room, especially if theyve got teenage kids. I mean, if a conservatorys double-glazed and you stick a radiator in, its as warm as a room in the house in the winter. Our business is actually up on this time last year.
I dragged out of him that he specialized in attaching conservatories to newish properties on the kind of estates where double-glazing salesmen used to graze like cattle. That way, he only ever had to produce a handful of designs in a few standard sizes, thus cutting his overheads to a minimum. He also concentrated on a relatively compact area: the south-west side of Manchester and over to Warrington new town, the little boxes capital of the North West. The two salesmen he employed brought in more than enough orders to keep the factory busy, Ted insisted.
And youre absolutely positive that the bank gave you no idea why they are foreclosing? I demanded again, reluctant to believe they had been quite so bloody-minded.
He nodded, uncertainly, then said, Well, he said something I didnt understand.
Can you remember exactly what that was? I asked in the tone of voice one uses with a particularly slow child.
He frowned as he struggled to remember. It was like watching an elephant crochet. Well, he did say there was an unusual and unacceptably high default rate on the remortgages, but he wouldnt say any more than that.
The remortgages?
People who cant sell their houses often remortgage to get their hands on their capital. They use the conservatory as the excuse for the remortgage. But I dont understand what thats got to do with me, he said plaintively.
I wasnt altogether sure that I did. But I knew a man who would. I wasnt excited by Ted Barlows story, but Id wrapped up the pharmaceuticals case in less time than Id anticipated, so the week was looking slack. I thought it wouldnt kill me to play around with his problem for a day or two. I was about to ask Ted to let Shelley have a list of his clients over the last few months when he finally grabbed my attention.
Well, I was that angry when I left the bank that I decided to go and see some of the people who had done a remortgage. I went back to the office and picked up the names and addresses and went over to Warrington. I went to four of the houses. Two of them were completely empty. And the other two had complete strangers living in them. But and this is the really weird bit, Miss Brannigan there were no conservatories there. Theyd vanished. The conservatories had just disappeared.
2
I took a deep breath. I have noticed that there are some people in this world who are congenitally incapable of telling a story that runs in a straight line from the beginning through the middle to the end, incorporating all the relevant points. Some of them win the Booker Prize, and thats fine by me. I just wish they didnt end up in my office. Disappeared? I finally echoed, when it became clear Ted had shot his bolt.
He nodded. Thats right. Theyre just not there any more. And the people that are living in two of the houses swear blind theres never been a conservatory there, not since they moved in a few months ago. The whole things a complete mystery to me. Thats why I thought you might be able to help. If Shelley had been in the room, shed have rolled over on her back at the look of trusting supplication on Ted Barlows face.
As it was, I was hooked. Its not often I get a client with a genuine mystery to solve. And this gave me the added bonus of getting my own back on Ms Supercool. Watching Shelley jumping through hoops for Ted Barlow was going to be the best cabaret in town.
I leaned back in my chair. OK, Ted. Well take a look at it. On one condition. Im afraid that, since the banks stopped your line of credit, Im going to have to ask you for a cash retainer.
Hed been one step ahead of me. Will a grand do? he asked, pulling a thick envelope from his inside pocket.
It was my turn to nod helplessly. I thought youd want cash, he went on. Us builders can always lay hands on a few bob in readies when we have to. Rainy day money. That way, you always make sure the important people get paid. He handed the envelope over. Go ahead, count it, I wont be offended, he added.
I did as he said. It was all there, in used twenties. I pressed the intercom. Shelley? Can you give Mr Barlow a receipt for one thousand pounds cash on his way out? Thanks. I got to my feet. Ive got one or two things to sort out here, Ted, but Id like to meet you later this afternoon at your office. Four oclock OK?
Thats great. Shall I leave the directions with your secretary? He sounded almost eager. This could get to be a lot of fun, I thought to myself as I showed Ted out. He headed for Shelleys desk like a homing pigeon.
Much as Id taken to Ted, I learned very early on in this game that liking someone is no guarantee of their honesty. So I picked up the phone and rang Mark Buckland at SecureSure. His secretary didnt mess me about with tales of fictitious meetings since Marks always pleased to hear from Mortensen and Brannigan. It usually means a nice little earner for him. SecureSure supply a lot of the hardware we recommend in our role as security consultants, and even with the substantial discount he offers us, Mark still makes a tidy profit.
Hi, Kate! he greeted me, his voice charged with its normal overdose of enthusiasm. Now, dont tell me, let me guess. Ted Barlow, am I right?
Youre right.
Im glad he took my advice, Kate. The guy is in deep shit, and he doesnt deserve it. Mark sounded sincere. But then, he always does. Thats the main reason he can afford to drive around in seventy grands worth of Mercedes coupé.
Thats what I was ringing you about. No disrespect, but I need to check out that the guys kosher. I dont want to find myself three days down the road with this and some bank clerk giving me the hard word because our Mr Barlows got a track record with more twists and turns than a sheep track, I said.
Hes kosher all right, Kate. The guy is completely straight. Hes the kind that gets into trouble because hes too honest, if you know what I mean.
Oh, come on, Mark. Its me youre talking to. The guys a builder, for Christs sake. He can lay his hands on a grand in cash, just like that. Thats not straight, not in the normal definition of the word, I protested.
OK, so maybe the taxman doesnt know about every shilling he makes. But that doesnt make you a bad person, now does it, Kate?
So give me the truth, not the advertising copy.
Mark sighed. Youre a hard woman, Brannigan. Tell me about it, I thought cynically. Right. Ted Barlow is probably my oldest friend. He was my best man, first time round. I was an usher at his wedding. Unfortunately, he married a prize bitch. Fiona Barlow was a slut and the last guy to find out was Ted. He divorced her five years ago and since then hes become a workaholic. He started off as a one-man-band, doing a bit of replacement windows stuff. Then a couple of friends asked him if he could do them a conservatory. They lived in real punter property, you know, Wimpey, Barratt, something like that. They got Ted to create this Victorian-style conservatory, all stained glass and UPVC. Of course, monkey see, monkey want. Half the estate wanted one, and Ted was launched in the conservatory business. Now, hes got a really solid little firm, a substantial turnover, and hes done it the straight way. Which, as you know, is pretty bloody unusual in the home improvement game.
In spite of my natural scepticism, I was impressed. Whatever was going on with Ted Barlows conservatories, it looked like it wasnt the man himself who was up to something. What about his competitors? Would they be looking to put the shaft in? I asked.
Hmm, Mark mused. I wouldnt have thought so. Hes not serious enough to be a worry to any of the really big-time boys. Hes strictly small, reputable and local. Whatevers going down here needs someone like you to sort it out. And if you do clear it up, because hes such a good friend, Ill even waive my ten per cent commission for sending him to you!
If I wasnt a lady, Id tell you to go fuck yourself, Buckland. Ten per cent! I snorted. Just for that, Im putting the lunch invitation on hold. Thanks for the backgrounder, anyway. Ill do my best for Ted.
Thanks, Kate. You wont be sorry. You sort him out, hell be your friend for life. Pity youve already got a conservatory, eh? He was gone before I could get on my high horse. Just as well, really. It took me a good thirty seconds to realize hed been at the wind-up and Id fallen for it.
I wandered through to the outer office to give Shelley the new-client form and the cash, for banking. To my surprise, Ted Barlow was still there, standing awkwardly in front of Shelleys desk like a kid whos hung behind after class to talk to the teacher he has a crush on. As I entered, Shelley looked flustered and quickly said, Im sure Kate will have no trouble following these directions, Mr Barlow.
Right, well, Ill be off then. Ill be seeing you later, Miss Brannigan.
Kate, I corrected automatically. Miss Brannigan makes me feel like my spinster great aunt. Shes not one of those indomitable old biddies with razor-sharp minds that we all want to be when were old. Shes a selfish, hypochondriacal, demanding old manipulator and I have this superstitious fear that if I let enough people call me Miss Brannigan, it might rub off on me.
Kate, he acknowledged nervously. Thank you very much, both of you. He backed through the door. Shelley was head down, fingers flying over the keyboard, before the door was even halfway closed.
Amazing how long it takes to give a set of directions, I said sweetly, dropping the form in her in-tray.
I was just sympathizing with the man, Shelley replied mildly. Its not always easy to tell with her coffee-coloured skin, but Id swear she was blushing.
Very commendable, too. Theres a grand in this envelope. Can you pop down to the bank with it? Id rather not leave it in the safe.
You do right. Youd only spend it, Shelley retorted, getting her own back. I poked my tongue out at her and returned to my own office. I picked up the phone again. This time, I rang Josh Gilbert. Josh is a partner in a financial services company. They specialize in providing advice and information to the kind of people who are so paranoid about ending up as impoverished senior citizens that they cheerfully do without while theyre young enough to enjoy it, just so they can sit back in comfort in their old age, muttering, If I had my youth again, I could be waterskiing now Josh persuades them to settle their shekels in the bosoms of insurance companies and unit trusts, then sits back planning for his own retirement on the fat commissions hes just earned. Only difference is, Josh expects his retirement to begin at forty. Hes thirty-six now, and tells me hes well on target. I hate him.
Of course, he was with a client. But Id deliberately made my call at ten minutes to the hour. I figured that way hed be able to call me back between appointments. Three minutes later, I was talking to him. I briefly outlined Ted Barlows problem. Josh said, Mmm, a lot. Eventually, he said, Ill check your guy out. And Ill do some asking around, no names, no pack drill. OK?