Free Bring Forth Your Dead by J. M. Gregson Page A

wouldn’t know, John. Our dealings with the whole family have been entirely financial, and usually conducted at a distance. Edmund could have supported his grandchildren while he was alive, of course. Small disbursements wouldn’t show up in the account. But none of the Cravens came in to see me much—except David, of course, as things grew worse.’
    Lambert saw Hook look up involuntarily from his notes. He had not pressed David Craven on the details of this, since he knew he was coming straight on here. ‘George, I must tell you in confidence that the detail of David’s financial position two years to eighteen months ago might be quite vital to our inquiry.’
    Taylor shrugged. ‘There is not too much to tell. Most bank managers could recount similar stories to you. David Craven saw some of the big boys in the City making fortunes from property. In the two years before 1988 even small builders were making a killing: the housing market was rising so fast that they were often able to add thirty thousand to the selling price on which they had costed by the time the houses were finished. One of our customers is now a millionaire on the strength of a single estate of twenty-eight houses he built and sold in that period. David Craven saw what was going on more clearly than most, as an architect. He decided to become a developer and land speculator himself.’
    Bert Hook, who had not liked Craven, expected to be told of some dramatic dissipation or corruption when he asked, ‘But the situation you describe sounds like a licence to print money for those in on it. How did Craven come unstuck?’
    Taylor smiled the wry smile of a man who has seen much of the follies of men. ‘As with any investment, timing is vital. Craven bought land at the high prices of 1988, much of it with borrowed money. Then he ran into the property slump of the years which followed. In those circumstances, the big national builders sit on their land banks and wait for things to recover. Building land has been a good investment ever since 1945, but not always as immediately as most people think. Craven’s land wasn’t always well-chosen: he tended to gamble on planning permission, which wasn’t always forthcoming as people in the Cotswolds became more sensitive about conservation and more hostile to second homes. Anyway, he didn’t have time to wait: he was operating on borrowed money and interest rates kept rising. As things got worse, he made investments that were more and more speculative, more and more dependent on the rapid recovery of the property market that did not materialise.’
    Lambert nodded. The police saw plenty of the mentality involved, though the degree of disaster varied widely. The transition from investor to speculator to gambler could be very rapid, as most followers of the turf who thought they had found a system could testify. ‘The important thing for us is the timing. Can you tell us what Craven’s situation was about eighteen months ago?’
    Taylor flicked open the file. ‘In a word, desperate. His creditors were closing in. I got permission from head office to extend his overdraft, but only for a few months at most.’ He paused. He was a humane man, whatever disgruntled loan-applicants might think, and he had never been in this situation before. ‘I —I feel as though I’m slipping the noose around someone’s neck!’ he said.
    Lambert smiled; he felt like a doctor applying his bedside manner. ‘Unless that’s just a metaphor, it’s a bit out of date, you know. In any case, what you’re going to tell us is probably circumstantial evidence, though it’s a popular myth that no one is ever convicted on that alone. But certainly any conviction will not be made solely upon what you are about to tell us; we shall need to prepare a much fuller case before we even charge someone.’
    Thus reassured, Taylor licked his lips and said quietly, ‘Things came to a head about three months later. I had him in to see me in