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“Yes, you. Have you considered that they took Barry and not you because you were on holiday? Maybe someone wants both of you. Apart from being a suspect, you’re also a potential victim.”
“Suspect? I’m a suspect? You think I killed my own brother?”
“It’s nothing personal, son. Golden rule of policing, look at family first. Ninety percent of the time, it is family.”
Billy Morrison’s next words were slowly and carefully delivered. “Listen closely to me. I did not kill my brother.”
“Pleased to hear it, but we still have to treat you as a possible victim until we can find out more about it.”
Gardener sat back and changed topics in order to diffuse the situation. “You also said yesterday that business was okay, but you were not breaking any records.”
“That’s right. Everybody’s the same.”
“And you mentioned that you and Barry would go without a wage if necessary, to see that the drivers and the salesmen were paid.”
“If we had to.”
“Have either of you?”
“No. Haven’t had to.”
“You have no financial trouble?”
“No.”
“I asked you yesterday to check with the accountant if the books were up to date, that no large sums of money had been withdrawn.”
“That’s right. I left a message on his answering machine, but he hasn’t called back yet.”
“So you don’t know.”
“No. But like I said yesterday, if our Barry had been withdrawing large sums of money, I would have known. Frank would have called me. He’s as straight as a die, that bloke. Had an accident a few years back, left him disabled. In a wheelchair. But he fought back: he never let it beat him. And he doesn’t just do our accounts, he does other people’s as well.”
“You said Barry liked money.”
“I did. He’s always liked money. Always worked a bloody sight harder than most people, which is probably why he has a bit put by.”
“He had a lot put by.”
“Well maybe he did. Like I said, I don’t know when he had time to spend it, the hours he put in.”
“And he wasn’t moonlighting somewhere else?” Reilly asked.
“He didn’t have the bloody time. He was always at the lot.”
“We found money in his flat, Mr Morrison.”
“You probably would. He didn’t like banks.”
“We haven’t had a count yet, but the search of the flat unearthed what looks to be thousands of pounds.”
“Thousands?”
“That’s how it looks.”
“How many thousands?”
“It’s all in plastic bags,” said Gardener. “It doesn’t take a genius to work that there must be at least a hundred thousand.”
