A place in the country

A place in the country.

Peace and tranquility.

The garden looked neat and tidy, too regimented for a real country cottage garden, but appealing to “city” types looking for a home in the countryside. The whole cottage had been tarted up to sell to incomers. Local people could not afford the price demanded and would not find the strict order and magazine decor fitted to their real rural way of life. Muddy boots and sweat stained jackets would spoil the appearance for incomers while the locals had to live with mud and muck as part of their everyday work. The prim and organized estate agent, who called herself a life style adviser; would be horrified to think of herself as a sales person, pure and simple. Yet that was her job, selling overpriced country cottages to people who did not actually belong in the rural working community. She earned a hefty commission from the actual sales and from organizing the refurbishment work, mostly done by a firm owned by her brother, working from his fancy office in a large town fifty miles away, she regarded the cash he paid her as simply family gifts and not as a kick back for the blatantly inflated prices paid for the work done by his casually employed, on basic minimum wage, immigrant labour force. A work force who followed orders and patched up and painted over areas that really needed rebuilding. “New” kitchen appliances were sourced from a reconditioning, without guarantees, workshop belonging to her brothers brother in law. This whole enterprise was very profitable and the suitability of the purchasers to the noise and activity of a working agricultural area were never even considered, Most viewings took place when the tractors were silent and the cattle safe in the fields. The conveyancing lawyer was her husband and nearly all buyers could be persuaded that things would go much quicker if they used the same firm for their side of the legal formalities. There was also another money stream in this operation. The original owners of the property did not get a fraction of the price paid by these incomers. They sold to a property developer who technically purchased the property before refurbishment. This firm was based in a tax haven and the administrative details were dealt with by the same law firm as handled the later sales. When the original seller eventually got their money, they found a lot of expenses, which they had not anticipated, drained thousands from the money they banked.

Altogether a very well organized and well paid set up. The losers were the original owners and the incomers who found, too late, that the cottage actually needed quite a bit of building renovation and the peace and tranquility of the countryside only lasted from 2 hours after dusk til 2 hours before dawn. Complaints were referred to the property developer in a south American tax haven, who took months to send the most evasive of responses., The lawyers and selling agents had no responsibility, all down to the developers.

Into this murky world of deceit and misinformation, came a new client. Middle aged, wealthy and unattached. A banker who had sacrificed his previous marriage on the alter of long hours and big earnings. He arrived at the train station, a good thirty miles from the peace and tranquility offered if he bought the cottage; he looked calm and relaxed after traveling first class. At six feet tall, dark hair, with a tanned complexion and a smile on his face, he immediately charmed the life style adviser when she met him on the platform. She was already counting her commission before he had even seen the property. She had made a special effort to take him for a viewing on a Sunday afternoon. The cottage garden had been machine tilled, the weeds just raked and turfed over; a bed of marigold flower plants each with a single bloom on show, edged both sides of the pathway to the front door. A marigold flower plant is a cheap option at this time of year, as mass production growers try to clear their stock. The new client made all the right noises and gave the regulation”oh wow” when shown the beams and the smart new kitchen. He asked about the price, the size of the plot, the prices of other recent sales. An ideal client, only interested in the price, not what they were actually buying. He asked about parking for his very expensive sports car, an Aston Martin no less. The sales lady; sorry life style adviser, was almost drooling with anticipation. The client even asked if she could recommend a builder to construct a garage and also if she could let him know of a good local lawyer. A perfect customer, charming, rich, focused only on money and willing to be advised. He stood and studied the garden, confessing he had never lifted a fork or got his hands dirty since leaving a well known private school. He then casually asked if she thought it possible that she could loan him a key so he could return later in the week just to confirm his car would fit in the drive. He added he was certain he was going to buy just need to check the car fitted the drive He was a cash buyer no need for any mortgage and so no structural checks etc or any of those tedious technicalities. He stressed he was happy to use whoever she advised to do the legal paperwork and she gave him the key on a promise he would return it in 4 days time, when he would also sign the sales agreement.

She drove him to the station, they exchanged phone numbers and e mail addresses, he gave his town address as an apartment in Maid-a- Vale not far from the cricket ground. She was on the phone to husband and brother before she even left the car park, she did not think it mattered so she did not say anything about lending the key, just gave them the happy news about yet another big pay day coming up.

A week passed by and the key did not get returned, her phone calls went unanswered, her emails got returned as address not recognized. She then got a call from the police, they asked if she was the owner of the cottage. This caused alarm and since it was the police she played it very carefully saying she had been hired to try and sell it for an overseas owner, the police asked how they could contact this owner and she suggested the law firm may know. As soon as the phone was free she called her husband, who said he had already had a visit from a detective in the serious crime unit. They drove over to the cottage to find it taped off and guarded by a whole squad of uniformed police. When they asked what was going on, the constable asked them what their interest was and they had to admit to being the sales agents. The young officer immediately used his radio and within seconds two more very burly men in uniforms and two plain clothes officers were at their side, the plain clothes people were an older man, around fifty, clean shaven but over weight; and a younger looking woman. The lawyer and his wife gave their names and addresses, they could not work out why the two detectives seemed to exchange knowing looks before the male detective said they had better leave their car where it was and come to the station in a police car, they were not under arrest yet but their cooperation would be valued. Bewildered they agreed, hard not to when surrounded by very determined looking officers.

Once back to the police station they were separated and advised they would be questioned under caution. This set very loud alarm bells ringing, A buyer must be accusing them of miss-selling a property, but if this was the problem why were the police at the new, unsold cottage? The life style adviser demanded a lawyer present but since this was her husband who was also being questioned it caused a delay before her husbands partner could be found and brought to the station. The police questioned them separately; about the off shore company and the tax haven bank accounts, they were asked for details of money being transferred around the globe. The police then told the very frightened life style adviser about the three kilos of heron that were in the unsold cottage. They had her prints over the cottage, her husband was involved in sending money to South America, a well known supply route for illegal narcotics. They had evidence linking the couple to both drugs and to money laundering, they would get twenty years at least. She tried to explain about lending the key to a new buyer but her story did not add up, firstly her husbands statements did not corroborate her lending a key to anyone, nor could he give a description of this alleged person and secondly no trace of this person could be found. He could not be traced, even the rail station CCTV was malfunctioning at the time he arrived by train. As far as the police were concerned, he did not exist. The only forensic evidence at the cottage was from people connected to and trusted by, the couple being questioned. They were well and truly stitched up.