Maybe she should just head home and ring Elizabeth instead, talkthrough what she read in the folder. Would ten o’clock be too late? Who knew with that lot? They had lunch at eleven thirty.
So, it’s either Chris, her boss, or Elizabeth, her... well, what exactly is Elizabeth? The word that comes to Donna’s mind first isfriend, but surely that isn’t right.
37.
Not too late at all, PC De Freitas,” says Elizabeth, nearly dropping the phone in the darkness, blindly struggling to switch on the bedside light. “I was just watching an Inspector Morse.”
She manages to flick the light on, and she sees the gentle rise and fall of Stephen’s rib cage, his faithful heart beating on.
“And why are you up so late, Donna?”
Donna sneaks a look at her watch. “Well, it’s quarter past ten; sometimes I just stay up this late. Now, Elizabeth, the folder was a bit long, and a bit complicated, but I think I got some of it.”
“Excellent,” replies Elizabeth. “I wanted it to be long and complicated enough for you to need to ring me to talk about it.”
“I see,” says Donna.
“It keeps me involved, you see, and it reminds you that we can be useful. I wouldn’t want you to feel like we were interfering, Donna, but at the same time I do want to interfere.”
Donna smiles. “Why don’t you take me through it?”
“Well, firstly, just to note, there are documents in that folder that would take you weeks to track down. You’d need warrants and all sorts. Ventham wouldn’t let you anywhere near some of them. So, I’m not blowing my own trumpet, but even so.”
“Feel free to let me know how you got hold of them.”
“Ron found them in a skip. Amazing what you can find—a lucky break for us all. Now, do you want the headlines before bed? You want to know why Ian Ventham might have murdered Tony Curran?”
Donna lies back on her pillow, remembering her mum reading herbedtime stories. She is aware that this shouldn’t feel similar, but it does. “Mmm-hmm,” she assents.
“Now, Ventham’s business is very profitable, very well run. But here’s the first headline that’s of interest to us. We discover that Tony Curran owns twenty-five percent of Coopers Chase.”
“I see,” says Donna.
“But then we discover that Curran is not a partner in the new company Ventham is using for the Woodlands.
“The new development? Okay, and?”
“There is an appendix in your folder—four C, I think. The Woodlands was due to be exactly the same as the rest of Coopers Chase—seventy-five percent Ian Ventham, twenty-five percent Tony Curran—until Ventham changed his mind and cut Curran out entirely. Now, you know what question to ask next?”
“When did Ventham change his mind?”
“Precisely. Well, Ventham signed the papers to cut Curran out of the deal the day before the consultation meeting. Which was, of course, the day before their mysterious row. And the day before someone murdered Tony Curran.”
“So Curran misses out on the Woodlands,” says Donna. “What would that have cost him?”
“Millions,” says Elizabeth. “There are huge projections in the folder. Curran would have been counting on an enormous payday before Ventham cut him out of the deal. That’s the news he received from Ian Ventham the day he was murdered.”
“Certainly enough for him to threaten Ventham, is your thinking?” asks Donna. “So Curran threatens Ventham. Ventham gets scared and kills Curran? Gets his retaliation in first?”
“Exactly. And it would get even worse after the next phase of the development, Hillcrest. That’s what our expert says.”
“Hillcrest?” asks Donna.
“The real golden goose. Buying the farmland on top of the hill. Doubling the size of the development.”
“And when will Hillcrest happen?” asks Donna.
“Well, that’s a sticking point for Ventham. He doesn’t even own the land yet,” says Elizabeth. “It is still owned by the farmer Gordon Playfair.”
