“Do I look as if I have financial problems, Mr Reilly?”
“Never can tell, Mr Armitage.”
“I don’t pay myself unreasonable bonuses. So, if you want a straight answer, no, I do not have any financial problems.”
“It’s a nice spot you have there, Mr Armitage,” said Gardener. “Ideally placed for all the local business and the passing trade. Anyone approached you wanting to buy the place?”
“As a matter of fact, there are a number of companies that have shown some interest, especially for when I decide to retire. In fact, one of my trade customers said he would like first refusal.”
“Before you go, we need a list of those customers, in particular the one who’s interested in taking it off your hands.”
“Certainly. Are you going to tell me what this is all about now?”
“Who has keys to the shop?”
“Just me and Alex, apart from a spare set my wife keeps for emergencies.”
“Is the building alarmed?”
“Yes.”
“Who knows the codes?”
“Same again, me and Alex and my wife.”
“Alex Wilson? Your nephew?”
“Yes, have you spoken to him?”
“No.”
“Well, when you do, tell him I’d like a word.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“Back end of last week, lazy little tyke.”
“And how did he seem?”
“Same as always. He’s a bloody airhead, can’t keep his mind on any one thing for too long. You have to keep at him if you want a job done.”
“Did he seem nervous about anything?”
“You obviously don’t know him,” replied the old man. “He was always nervous.”
“Any idea why?”
“He’s always been like it. You get used to it after a while.”
Gardener knew the time was fast approaching when he was going to have to break the bad news to the old man.
“What do you keep in the basement?”
“Mostly empty boxes, some excess stock, nothing else.”
“You have no safe down there? No money, or anything of any financial value?”
“No. Do you mind if I have a cup of tea, Mr Gardener? It’s dinnertime, and I’m partial to a mid-day drink.”