Albright’s. But his parents had told Carmichael that a year ago he’d got lucky
and his life had really taken off, an event his former wife had failed to mention when questioned earlier. Hardly surprising, given the death of her only child, Daniels reminded them.
No one argued.
Lisa checked her notes before continuing: ‘Reid’s skills so impressed the MD of the Malmaison hotel chain he was taken on permanently, pissing off his former employer and losing him
a lucrative contract to boot. He went into bat for himself, was self-employed at the time of his death, earning good money too, by all accounts. Good enough to pay off his parent’s
mortgage.’ She paused for breath. ‘Colin Albright, on the other hand, has been pushed over the edge during the recession. His company has recently gone into liquidation.’
‘This all makes sense.’ Daniels described Mark Reid’s home. ‘His belongings are not those of a common-or-garden joiner. It’s obvious he’s come a long way
since leaving Maggie, assuming he left her and not vice versa. The question is, did his newfound success lead to his death?’
‘Albright’s place is something else. A real fuck-off pad, but it’s up for sale.’ Carmichael gave an address at Runnymede Road, Darras Hall, an affluent suburb out past
the airport in the village of Ponteland. Everyone knew how posh it was. Even Alan Shearer had chosen to live there. ‘Took me an age to get in. Bloody place is like Fort Knox.’
Gormley glanced proudly at the DCI. Carmichael had done well.
‘What’s he like?’ Daniels asked her.
‘Albright? I wasn’t feeling the love, if that’s what you mean. His wife is a right pain in the arse. Bet she’s a real piece of work behind closed doors. Drinker, too. I
could smell the whisky soon as she opened the front door.’
‘Describe her.’
Carmichael looked perplexed.
‘Humour me, Lisa.’
‘Stick thin, good clothes, too much make-up—’
‘Please tell me they call her Judy.’
‘Denise. Why?’
‘Hank found a message on Reid’s answerphone.’ Daniels nodded to the recovered item. ‘Have a listen in. See if you recognize the voice.’
Carmichael stood up, walked over to the device and did as she was told. Then she turned it off and shook her head. ‘Nah, that’s not her.’
‘What size is she?’ Daniels asked.
‘Eight, possibly even a six.’ Carmichael sat back down.
‘OK, so she’s not the owner of the clothes in Reid’s wardrobe. What did the Albrights say about Reid? Anything of interest?’
‘No love lost. They blame him for their current predicament, the business going tits-up. Denise Albright admitted that the For Sale sign is a front. The house isn’t for sale,
it’s being repossessed.’
DS Robson whistled. ‘That’s quite a motive.’
‘She’s livid.’ Carmichael was referring to Denise Albright. ‘The business was set up entirely with her money. I spoke to the administrator, too. Colin Albright’s
not a savvy managing director by any stretch of the imagination. His wife had bailed him out before, standing guarantor for large loans he’d been forced to take out at the bank.’
Carmichael turned to Brown. ‘Andy, you want to say something about the restaurant?’
Maxwell interrupted. ‘They own a restaurant too?’
‘No, but I made enquiries in the village. Albright’s a bit of a gobshite, not well liked outside of his own set. There was an altercation in front of the Rendezvous one night between
him and Reid. Not the behaviour people round there see very often, I imagine. Not something easily forgotten either. It drew quite a crowd. By the time our lot turned up, they’d all pissed
off.’
‘Handbags at dawn then,’ Gormley said.
‘Kinda. Albright got all defensive when Lisa asked him about it. And when I told him Reid was dead, he nearly shit himself. Unlike his wife. She said, quote “I’m glad”
unquote.’
Daniels’ interest grew. ‘Where were they last
and his life had really taken off, an event his former wife had failed to mention when questioned earlier. Hardly surprising, given the death of her only child, Daniels reminded them.
No one argued.
Lisa checked her notes before continuing: ‘Reid’s skills so impressed the MD of the Malmaison hotel chain he was taken on permanently, pissing off his former employer and losing him
a lucrative contract to boot. He went into bat for himself, was self-employed at the time of his death, earning good money too, by all accounts. Good enough to pay off his parent’s
mortgage.’ She paused for breath. ‘Colin Albright, on the other hand, has been pushed over the edge during the recession. His company has recently gone into liquidation.’
‘This all makes sense.’ Daniels described Mark Reid’s home. ‘His belongings are not those of a common-or-garden joiner. It’s obvious he’s come a long way
since leaving Maggie, assuming he left her and not vice versa. The question is, did his newfound success lead to his death?’
‘Albright’s place is something else. A real fuck-off pad, but it’s up for sale.’ Carmichael gave an address at Runnymede Road, Darras Hall, an affluent suburb out past
the airport in the village of Ponteland. Everyone knew how posh it was. Even Alan Shearer had chosen to live there. ‘Took me an age to get in. Bloody place is like Fort Knox.’
Gormley glanced proudly at the DCI. Carmichael had done well.
‘What’s he like?’ Daniels asked her.
‘Albright? I wasn’t feeling the love, if that’s what you mean. His wife is a right pain in the arse. Bet she’s a real piece of work behind closed doors. Drinker, too. I
could smell the whisky soon as she opened the front door.’
‘Describe her.’
Carmichael looked perplexed.
‘Humour me, Lisa.’
‘Stick thin, good clothes, too much make-up—’
‘Please tell me they call her Judy.’
‘Denise. Why?’
‘Hank found a message on Reid’s answerphone.’ Daniels nodded to the recovered item. ‘Have a listen in. See if you recognize the voice.’
Carmichael stood up, walked over to the device and did as she was told. Then she turned it off and shook her head. ‘Nah, that’s not her.’
‘What size is she?’ Daniels asked.
‘Eight, possibly even a six.’ Carmichael sat back down.
‘OK, so she’s not the owner of the clothes in Reid’s wardrobe. What did the Albrights say about Reid? Anything of interest?’
‘No love lost. They blame him for their current predicament, the business going tits-up. Denise Albright admitted that the For Sale sign is a front. The house isn’t for sale,
it’s being repossessed.’
DS Robson whistled. ‘That’s quite a motive.’
‘She’s livid.’ Carmichael was referring to Denise Albright. ‘The business was set up entirely with her money. I spoke to the administrator, too. Colin Albright’s
not a savvy managing director by any stretch of the imagination. His wife had bailed him out before, standing guarantor for large loans he’d been forced to take out at the bank.’
Carmichael turned to Brown. ‘Andy, you want to say something about the restaurant?’
Maxwell interrupted. ‘They own a restaurant too?’
‘No, but I made enquiries in the village. Albright’s a bit of a gobshite, not well liked outside of his own set. There was an altercation in front of the Rendezvous one night between
him and Reid. Not the behaviour people round there see very often, I imagine. Not something easily forgotten either. It drew quite a crowd. By the time our lot turned up, they’d all pissed
off.’
‘Handbags at dawn then,’ Gormley said.
‘Kinda. Albright got all defensive when Lisa asked him about it. And when I told him Reid was dead, he nearly shit himself. Unlike his wife. She said, quote “I’m glad”
unquote.’
Daniels’ interest grew. ‘Where were they last
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