Late of the Payroll Read online

Cornelia called to find Grey was already on his way back into town in the squad car. She stood in the carpark to meet him, the IT consultant arriving as she waited. There was also a fellow from the force’s own HR staff, Cori having called the station asking for the most technically-minded one there to get here, just in case they could be of any help.

  ‘Is Aubrey here?’ asked Grey, as he jumped out and thanked his driver, releasing him to his usual duties.

  ‘No. He was due in, before he had to go to hospital.’

  ‘We just missed him there, and there’s no one at home.’

  ‘The office staff say he’s in London on a business trip.’

  ‘Then it doesn’t look as though we’re going to see him today. He was attacked, you know, although he didn’t report it at the Infirmary. Looks like someone’s been throwing stones at the house, and caught him a cropper this morning. Pretty yellow, if you ask me. What have you got?’

  Cori filled him in on the life and times of Thomas Long. ‘But his colleagues,’ she concluded, ‘say he seemed less stressed yesterday, and confirm he left normally around five.’

  ‘That makes the envelope about twenty hours.’

  ‘Oh yes, and you’ll like this, sir: Alex Aubrey is his line manager, they work together in the office. And this is the most interesting thing,’ she added before they went in. ‘Thomas Long was running the payroll process on Monday.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And it didn’t go right. They’ve booked an IT consultant to come in and fix it.’

  He congratulated her on her work, as they turned toward the building.

  They entered, for the receptionist to rise at their arrival, ‘So this is the Inspector,’ she said, eyeing him greedily. ‘We are very glad for your help here.’

  ‘Hello again,’ smiled Cori, ‘Can you let us back up to the office please?’

  The woman turned to lead them through the security doors and up toward the emptiness of office space above.

  ‘The IT people got here just before you,’ called Cori back along the stairs to Grey. ‘They should be setting up now.’

  ‘Thank you, you are very kind,’ offered Grey as the amenable lady left them at the second set of pass-locked doors.

  ‘It’s Shauna,’ she said, her eyes mauve-shadowed to match her dress.

  ‘Well, thank you Shauna,’ he said as he darted into the room, Cori trying not to smile too hard as she dashed in after him.

  In the room that had seemed so empty there was now a knot of people, formed around one computer screen. The group comprised both the ladies Cori had met earlier, and two men, one much younger than the other.

  ‘It’s Gareth, from HR,’ said the lad, both detectives murmuring in semi-recognition. He stuck out his hand to each of them in turn. ‘They use the same system as the police,’ he offered cheerily. ‘It should be a doddle to get running.’

  There was beside him a very serious-looking man concentrating on the screen. Grey considered, with his elbow-patched jacket and long hair balding above the temples, he looked like a lecturer from the Open University programs he had once stayed up so late to study.

  ‘Kenneth Pitt, IT Consultants, just off the High Street.’ His greeting didn’t include a handshake, his fingers occupied as they were at the keyboard.

  ‘And what is it exactly your company does?’ asked Grey.

  ‘We offer IT and administrative support for small and medium-sized businesses. Our services are used by four of the biggest private organisations in the town, as well as the bus company and borough libraries network. Our office can furnish you with references from each of them, stretching back up to fourteen years. As for myself, I have a PHD in Business Information Systems, as well as several more specific qualifications in this area,’ he added, gesturing to the computer.

  Fine at a laptop, but not the most technologically savvy, Grey appreciated his role here was one of observer. ‘So, what’s happening now?’ he asked, hoping for an answer in the simplest terms possible.

  ‘Well,’ began Gareth from HR, ‘Gail has logged us onto the computer. And now Keith and I have been checking through the data Thomas left us. There is a file of all employees, and what they should be earning.’

  ‘And how does it look?’

  ‘It looks already checked and cross-checked,’ answered Keith Pitt without looking away from the screen. ‘He did a very good job in that respect. All that seems to be left is to run the actual process.’

  That sounded simple enough, Grey thought, before the serious man continued: ‘He seems to have already attempted this twice. The attempts are recorded, but neither completed successfully.’

  Grey was lost, but before he could ask for clarification Gareth from HR gave a commentary to help them out,

  ‘The system contacts the bank electronically, sending it the file of payments to be made and the accounts to send them to. If the file is incorrect then people get sent too much or too little.’

  ‘And why did it fail for Tom?’ This was Gail Marsh asking, following every word.

  ‘I must confess, at this point I do not know.’ Keith Pitt continued to stare at the screen.

  ‘Doesn’t it tell you?’ asked Grey.

  ‘Yes it does, Inspector, but in rather technical terms. That something threw a stick between the spokes is obvious, but it is hard to tell at precisely what point it failed.’

  ‘And how long will this thing take?’

  ‘A few minutes at most.’

  ‘And if it fails again?’

  ‘A little longer – it will keep retrying before it gives up. Right then, Inspector, I’m confirming this action will now send the file to the bank.’

  ‘Oh yes, fine by me,’ Grey agreed, realising they were waiting for his say so.

  ‘Very good,’ said the expert, as with the last few mouse and key clicks, various messages and egg-timer icons appeared on screen.

  Cori pulled gently at Grey’s arm, and the pair moved a little way from the group.

  ‘I have just spoken to the receptionist downstairs,’ she began. Grey hadn’t even noted her absence. ‘Remember I told you two of the men who had been asking about their payslips? She confirms both men are here, and should be on shift for a couple more hours.’

  ‘Good. Then we can speak to them once this is sorted. And his father should be around here somewhere too.’

  ‘Philip Long is in a different part of the building,’ she confirmed.

  ‘Good. We ought to have a word with him while we’re here.’

  ‘Inspector,’ young Gareth interrupted, sooner than Grey would have credited. ‘Sorry for interrupting. We’re done now, if you want to come and see.’

  The fellowship regathered before Keith Pitt’s, or more accurately Thomas Long’s, monitor, the contracted expert’s fingers hovering over the keyboard, as a system message bearing a red triangle appeared, beside some text too small for any but those sat at the screen to read.

  ‘It’s saying that there was a problem when attempting to release the money from the firm’s account to those of the recipients,’ Keith read, ‘and to contact the bank for more information.’

  ‘They’ve got no money?’ asked Gail, who had been watching things from her own desk, she with her own tasks to get on with.

  ‘Oh no,’ answered Gareth brightly, ‘the system doesn’t know that, it is not that intuitive – this message appears if there is any hitch. I’ve seen it myself, if there’s a number out of place or an option not selected.’

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Keith Pitt, in measured tones, ‘but we have checked and double-checked. The numbers are right.’

  Grey and Cori stood helpless, control of the situation ceded to experts who weren’t sure what their screens were telling them. As the Sergeant waited she looked around the room: at Gail, turned back to her typewriter, so commonplace an object not so long ago but now anachronistic, its owner perhaps at a point in her career, Cori speculated, where the time spent in learning electronic methods of word processing wo
uld never get her back up to the word-rates she currently enjoyed on her manual machine. While along the serried desks was Cynthia, for whom Cori felt some strong affinity, despite only meeting her today. Her concern for Thomas was endearing in the extreme. At this moment though, Cynthia seemed to be doing no more than keeping herself busy also, although in ways not generating the steady mechanical noise of Gail’s well-oiled writer.

  A phone rang, and Cori watched as both secretaries’ heads rose momentarily; before Gail got up to walk towards the far end of the office, and an area separated from the main space by a head-height partition. Cynthia’s own head sunk back to its prior position, taking no interest in the dramas taking place around her. I’ll go and speak to her soon, thought Cori, if I have the chance.

  Just then Gail emerged from behind the glass partition, ‘Inspector,’ she called, the receiver clutched to her chest, ‘I think you ought to take this call, or perhaps Mr Pitt?’ The two men looked at each other, then rose and walked together toward the sectioned-off space. ‘Hold on, please,’ they heard her saying, ‘I’m just fetching someone to speak to you,’ before she handed it to Grey without a word.

  ‘This is Inspector Rase, who am I speaking to?’ he asked, Keith Pitt only a respectful distance away.

  ‘Inspector?’ answered the caller. ‘What is happening? Where’s Alex Aubrey?’

  ‘I’m afraid Mr Aubrey is away on a business trip’

  ‘Then... what’s happening there, Inspector?’

  ‘Please don’t be alarmed, Mr?’

  ‘Foy, Frank Foy.’

  Grey repeated the name aloud.

  ‘He’s the bank manager,’ Keith Pitt interjected. ‘Could you put him on speakerphone?’ Which Grey promptly did.

  ‘We are here making investigations into various matters,’ continued Grey down the line. ‘As I say, Mr Aubrey isn’t here to take your call.’

  ‘Then what about Thomas? He’s usually very helpful.’

  Grey felt a sudden lump in his throat, ‘I’m afraid he isn’t here either.’ Grey sensed the man at the other end of the line was as lost for the right words as he was. ‘Could I ask why you are calling today, Mr Foy?’

  ‘We... we’ve just had an alert flash up on the system – a request for an electronic transfer that cannot be met. It appeared to come through from Aubrey’s. Is there anyone there who would know about this?’

  ‘It was me, Mr Foy. Keith Pitt, from IT Consultants. I’ve been called in to run the payroll in Alex’s absence.’

  ‘Hello Mr Pitt.’ They seemed to know each other, perhaps from previous similar dealings supposed Grey. ‘Then perhaps you don’t know. I thought it had been agreed when I spoke to Thomas on Monday, that the payroll process wouldn’t be attempted again until the transfer of funds Alex Aubrey had promised us last month had been completed. As I told Alex then, and Thomas on Monday, it was impossible to release the money with the balance in its current state. This is a not inconsiderable shortfall we are talking about here, Inspector... Hello, are you there?’

  Now it was Grey’s turn to go quiet, his mind closing in on itself for the split-seconds it took to figure out exactly what had happened here on Monday evening.

  ‘What time did you speak to Thomas, Mr Foy?’ asked Grey, ignoring the financial aspect a moment.

  ‘About six o’clock. He had tried to run it twice by then. The second time I had to call him.’

  ‘And how did he seem when you spoke to him?’

  ‘Frustrated at first, a bit nervous perhaps? Look, this isn’t really my field, Inspector. But he did say he was just about to call the bank himself and find out what the problem was. He was worried though, when I told him about the bank balance.’

  ‘So Alex hadn’t told him the money wasn’t there?’

  ‘It didn’t appear as though he had.’

  ‘And how did you leave it?’

  ‘That he would speak to Alex in the morning, and wouldn’t try the process again before then. I had been planning to call them today actually, to see how they were getting on in their efforts to raise the funds. The workers are meant to be getting paid on Friday.’

  There was a pause before Mr Foy of the First National Savings & Loan continued,

  ‘So can I ask, if the police are involved, then does that mean there has been any... impropriety? If so, it really would be beneficial for me and the bank’s directors to know.’

  ‘No one’s suggesting anything like that, Mr Foy,’ answered Grey absent-mindedly.

  ‘Can I speak with you a moment?’ Keith Pitt asked Grey quietly, aware of the sound-snatching aspect of a telephone set to speaker.

  ‘Mr Foy. Stay by the phone please. We will get back to you soon.’ Grey hung up to hear what the financier had to say.

  ‘It’s the oldest story in the book, Inspector. You will have been there yourself, we all have at some point – it can be as simple a thing as a card gone out of date or a cheque not signed. The message is always very polite, “Please check with your bank as there may be a problem”. Of course, what it can mean, and does turns out to mean a lot of the time, is that the money simply isn’t there. But try telling that to an irate, embarrassed customer, swearing blind the cheque cleared their account that morning.

  ‘This is the same, only on a larger scale, and I expect that however it was broached when they spoke last month, our branch manager was as embarrassed to be having to tell Alex Aubrey that the coffers were bare as Aubrey was to be told.’

  And then on Monday, Grey mused, his still exterior belying a mind in overdrive, there must have been a part of mild-mannered Mr Foy that was furious at Alex Aubrey, for making him have to call and explain all this again. And then again today, well...

  ‘I wonder, Mr Pitt, can we co-opt you this afternoon, to meet with Foy and go through the bank accounts.’

  ‘This afternoon?’ the man looked up at the clock.

  ‘Well, it might stretch into evening.’

  Keith Pitt considered, not appearing to hurry his actions, ‘I’ll need to speak to Foy anyway, in my capacity as hired by Mrs Marsh. I’ll get off over there now.’

  ‘Once you’re there, have Foy call Superintendent Rose. He’ll give him any reassurance he needs. Go through this income account, find out why it’s empty,’ Grey instructed the financial expert as though he needed to be told. With the briefest word of reassurance to Gail Marsh that this would soon all be sorted out, Keith Pitt paused only to take his tweed jacket from the back of the chair as he left the office.

  ‘Are you okay to go with him?’ called Grey to Gareth, he loving every minute of being involved in something with a taste of what his investigative colleagues at the station were more accustomed to.

  ‘You are trusting that Keith Pitt with a lot here.’ This was Cornelia, reminding Grey that it was part of a Sergeant’s role to check their Inspector.

  ‘He seems a clever fellow, and we need all the help we can get.’ Grey turned to the twinkling red warning light on the screen, and clicked the button to Cancel it into submission.

  ‘Are we authorised at all to look at the firm accounts?’ she queried.

  ‘I can’t see the Aubreys being in any position to say no, can you? Darting off to London pretty sharpish just as things are getting serious. In rushing off he left Mrs Marsh in effective control, and we have her assent. Besides, I am not convinced Alex Aubrey is either thinking straight or acting in anything like good faith.

  ‘This is bigger than just Thomas Long now. If this place goes down, as I can’t help fearing it will any day now, then we will be the front-line. There are five hundred men and women down there,’ he looked to the floor as if through it to the busy people and machines below, ‘who have mortgages on homes, payments on cars, and standing orders for flat-screen televisions which are not going to be met this month.’

  He could be quite poetic at times Cori considered, admiring his little speech. She didn’t really need to test his actions, for she would follow his whims and ways till Judgemen
t Day.

  They turned to leave, to find Gail Marsh stood at the door, she and poor sad Cynthia Field alone again in their empty room with not a clue of what was occurring, only certain that it wasn’t anything good. Grey thought Gail looked dismayed yet stoical, if such a combination were possible. She spoke,

  ‘It is going to be hard, Inspector, keeping any of this from the workers downstairs. The payslips should be out by now – we can’t bluff them forever. The only reason they’re not up here asking for them now is because they know you... that the police are here. Sooner or later there will be someone from the union up those stairs like a shot, and what do I say to them? Where do I send them? Who’s in charge?’

  At this point the steadfast woman broke down, Cori fulfilling some unwritten feminine role in being the one to rush to her and bear the sobs against her shoulder. ‘My husband works downstairs, you know,’ she wavered, wiping her eyes a little. ‘I can only tell him not to worry and that everything will be fine so many times, before he realises something’s up. Or else I find I just can’t lie to him any more.’

  ‘Chin up,’ encouraged Grey, ‘we’ll get this sorted out in no time.’ He gave Cynthia standing near a cheery smile, and Gail a hearty pat on the shoulder, which were rather the limits of his people skills in emotional situations. Cori released Gail from her hug, and bid the woman a reassuring farewell that was readily accepted.

  With a last instruction for the ladies to call Alex Aubrey and get him back here today, that no matter what he was doing in London, this was more important, Grey and Cori turned for the stairs back down to reception; Cori wondering as they walked whether Grey’s promise to have this all sorted out soon would be one he could keep, while acknowledging he had had to offer the troubled women something.

  Chapter 6 – ...and Artisans