was that they told me he’d been at it for some time. I always prided myself on spotting a dodgy driver, but I obviously didn’t suss him.’
‘When exactly did you sack him?’ asked Dave.
‘Eleventh of September last,’ said Thorpe promptly, who still had Dixon’s file in his hand. ‘It was after the customs people turned up here making enquiries about him. They told us he’d been arrested at Dover and was being charged with the illegal importation of a large quantity of spirits. We were damned lucky that the vehicle wasn’t impounded, or even confiscated. But I think that only happens if the vehicle has been specially adapted for smuggling,’ he added as an afterthought.
That comment about a specially adapted vehicle made me think, and I determined that I would look into it.
‘I wasn’t having any drivers who got up to that sort of malarkey,’ said Bligh firmly. ‘So he was out on his ear the same day.’
‘What was Mrs Hammond’s reaction to you giving Dixon his cards?’ asked Dave.
‘As I recall, she just shrugged. I got the impression that she was a bit put out by it, but she didn’t say anything. She couldn’t really argue with me for giving a driver the elbow when he’d been nicked by customs.’
‘Did Nick Hammond ever come here?’ I was interested in the Hammonds’ relationship, and whether he’d shown any desire to become involved in Kerry’s haulage company.
‘Occasionally,’ said Bligh. ‘But only ever at the end of the day, and that was usually to collect Kerry when they were going out somewhere. I don’t think she liked him poking his nose into the business. She probably thought that his inefficiency was contagious.’
We left it at that. We’d added a little more to what we knew of the Hammonds, but not much.
‘I think this afternoon might be a good time to have another word with Nick Hammond, Dave,’ I said, as we drove back to Curtis Green.
‘Is he likely to be at home, guv? Most estate agents I know of are open on Saturdays. Sundays even.’
I rang Hammond’s home phone number from my mobile, confirmed that he was at Barnes and made an appointment to see him that afternoon.
When we returned to Curtis Green, I spent an hour or two scanning the pitifully few, and largely useless, statements that we’d acquired since the discovery of Kerry Hammond’s body. I then set Kate Ebdon to checking on the address that Thorpe had given us for Gary Dixon.
‘D’you want him nicked if I find him, guv?’ Kate asked.
‘Yes, he’s worth a pull if he’s there,’ I said. ‘If not, find out what you can about him. Have a word with his wife, assuming he’s got one.’
‘He has, guv. Well, I imagine so. I did a voters’ list check and it shows a Sonia Dixon living there.’
Dave and I grabbed a quick bite to eat, and made our way to Barnes.
Exuding what I was certain was a false air of bonhomie, Nick Hammond gave all the appearance of a man who had quickly recovered from his wife’s death. Wearing a sweater over a blue shirt, chocolate brown chinos and expensive loafers, he invited us into the sitting room.
‘I’m having a bit of a job finding Kerry’s bank statements,’ he said, as we sat down.
‘That’s a pity,’ said Dave. ‘It means that we’ll have to get a Crown Court judge’s warrant to serve on her bank.’ He took out his pocketbook and flicked it open, ready to record details. ‘Perhaps you’d give me the address of the branch where she banked.’ He looked up expectantly.
The ploy worked. ‘Oh, hang on, though,’ said Hammond, flicking his fingers at feigned recollection. ‘If you can give me a minute or two, I’ve just thought where she might’ve kept them.’ He jumped up and hastened from the room, and I heard him going upstairs, presumably to the safe I’d discovered in the bedroom.
I wondered why Hammond should’ve made such a blatant attempt to prevent us from seeing his late wife’s bank statements, and I was now even more
‘When exactly did you sack him?’ asked Dave.
‘Eleventh of September last,’ said Thorpe promptly, who still had Dixon’s file in his hand. ‘It was after the customs people turned up here making enquiries about him. They told us he’d been arrested at Dover and was being charged with the illegal importation of a large quantity of spirits. We were damned lucky that the vehicle wasn’t impounded, or even confiscated. But I think that only happens if the vehicle has been specially adapted for smuggling,’ he added as an afterthought.
That comment about a specially adapted vehicle made me think, and I determined that I would look into it.
‘I wasn’t having any drivers who got up to that sort of malarkey,’ said Bligh firmly. ‘So he was out on his ear the same day.’
‘What was Mrs Hammond’s reaction to you giving Dixon his cards?’ asked Dave.
‘As I recall, she just shrugged. I got the impression that she was a bit put out by it, but she didn’t say anything. She couldn’t really argue with me for giving a driver the elbow when he’d been nicked by customs.’
‘Did Nick Hammond ever come here?’ I was interested in the Hammonds’ relationship, and whether he’d shown any desire to become involved in Kerry’s haulage company.
‘Occasionally,’ said Bligh. ‘But only ever at the end of the day, and that was usually to collect Kerry when they were going out somewhere. I don’t think she liked him poking his nose into the business. She probably thought that his inefficiency was contagious.’
We left it at that. We’d added a little more to what we knew of the Hammonds, but not much.
‘I think this afternoon might be a good time to have another word with Nick Hammond, Dave,’ I said, as we drove back to Curtis Green.
‘Is he likely to be at home, guv? Most estate agents I know of are open on Saturdays. Sundays even.’
I rang Hammond’s home phone number from my mobile, confirmed that he was at Barnes and made an appointment to see him that afternoon.
When we returned to Curtis Green, I spent an hour or two scanning the pitifully few, and largely useless, statements that we’d acquired since the discovery of Kerry Hammond’s body. I then set Kate Ebdon to checking on the address that Thorpe had given us for Gary Dixon.
‘D’you want him nicked if I find him, guv?’ Kate asked.
‘Yes, he’s worth a pull if he’s there,’ I said. ‘If not, find out what you can about him. Have a word with his wife, assuming he’s got one.’
‘He has, guv. Well, I imagine so. I did a voters’ list check and it shows a Sonia Dixon living there.’
Dave and I grabbed a quick bite to eat, and made our way to Barnes.
Exuding what I was certain was a false air of bonhomie, Nick Hammond gave all the appearance of a man who had quickly recovered from his wife’s death. Wearing a sweater over a blue shirt, chocolate brown chinos and expensive loafers, he invited us into the sitting room.
‘I’m having a bit of a job finding Kerry’s bank statements,’ he said, as we sat down.
‘That’s a pity,’ said Dave. ‘It means that we’ll have to get a Crown Court judge’s warrant to serve on her bank.’ He took out his pocketbook and flicked it open, ready to record details. ‘Perhaps you’d give me the address of the branch where she banked.’ He looked up expectantly.
The ploy worked. ‘Oh, hang on, though,’ said Hammond, flicking his fingers at feigned recollection. ‘If you can give me a minute or two, I’ve just thought where she might’ve kept them.’ He jumped up and hastened from the room, and I heard him going upstairs, presumably to the safe I’d discovered in the bedroom.
I wondered why Hammond should’ve made such a blatant attempt to prevent us from seeing his late wife’s bank statements, and I was now even more
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