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He pushed his chair away from his desk and loosened his tie.
‘Did I expect to get a call saying my brother had been killed in a violent mugging? No,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘But did I dread the day when I’d hear that something awful had happened to him? To that I’d have to say yes.’
He looked at her evenly. ‘Why are you here, Miss Stone?’ he asked.
‘Because I lost someone too, last week. My best friend. The police think it was suicide. But I’m not so sure.’
She watched his face, trying to gauge Simon’s mood. She saw sympathy, but no reaction. As a solicitor, Simon was presumably used to listening without judgement as people arranged a divorce or wrote loved ones out of their will.
‘I think my brother’s death was suspicious too,’ said Simon simply. ‘Jon died from hitting his head against the pavement. Pushed over in a violent mugging, they say. The police put out an appeal for witnesses, but nobody came forward. My suspicion is they never will.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘I’m a high street lawyer, Lara. I deal with wills, probate and suburban house sales. I’m not a detective but I’m old enough, experienced enough in the ways of the world, to know when something feels off.’
He pushed up his shirt sleeves and leaned forward. ‘Jon’s attack happened in a dark street in the City on a Sunday night and despite there being 600,000 CCTV cameras in London, Jonathon had the misfortune to be mugged in one of the blind spots. Perhaps he was unlucky. Or perhaps it’s not a coincidence.’
Lara didn’t comment. She knew that Alex would have some pithy aphorism for this: coincidence is not conspiracy, or something equally trite.
‘What was your brother doing in the City?’
‘Jon lived in Monaco most of the time,
but he was often in London on business. He was staying at a hotel in Mayfair. He liked that part of town. He told me once that he never went to the City unless he could help it. So to answer your question, I’ve no idea what he was doing there, especially late at night.’
‘Are you suggesting that it wasn’t a random attack?’
Simon shook his head, his expression sad.
‘I don’t know what happened to Jon, but I know that he had a lot of friends – and a lot of enemies. And they were definitely the sort of people who had the connections and cash to get rid of him if they wanted to.’
Lara nodded. She’d researched the Pandora’s yacht parties and Jonathon Meyer’s fund, but she had hit a brick wall. The people with that level of wealth actually employed PRs and lawyers to keep them out of the public eye, but you could easily speculate that these investments involved huge profits – and huge losses.
‘Was Jonathon a risk-taker?’
Simon Meyer smiled.
‘Always. Jon lived on the edge. Bet big, win big,’ he said with a nostalgic smile, as if he was repeating back something his brother had once said. ‘Jon was younger than me by a year. Always getting into trouble, always trying to pull off some scam or other. I’d fight his corner, try to ensure he didn’t bite off more than he could chew. But he always did.’
Simon shook his head. ‘Jon was quite brilliant in lots of ways. He had a huge brain, but he was left-field, had a unique way of looking at things. He found the conventional tedious, school work was boring. People called Jonathon a financial genius but I’m convinced he was an actual genius. It’s hard to contain people like that. It made him as rebellious as he was smart. You know he got into Cambridge to do maths, but left after a year? Too easy he said, but then he got a foothold in banking and that’s when he really started to fly.’
Simon sighed. ‘Possibly too high. He was Icarus. He flew too close to the sun.’
‘You mention enemies? Have you any idea who they might be?’
Now she looked more closely, Lara could see Simon looked tired; the lines on his face were deep.
‘Jon never talked business with me. We had supper together a couple of days before he died. He came out to Cobham for the first time in years. He said he envied my life. First time he had ever said that. Maybe it was the first time he ever thought it.’
‘Did he seem worried about anything?”
‘Jon never showed weakness. I suppose it was why he was so successful. But looking back, he didn’t seem as bullish about business as usual.’
Lara nodded, thinking about the Post-it note she’d found at Sandrine’s flat.
‘Does the name Helen Michael mean anything to you?’
Simon shook his head.
