by Sherri Bryan
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“By the way, Samuel Slade’s phone was found today. It was in the gutter under a load of snow.” Nathan chatted to Charlotte as she cooked dinner, Pippin stretched out on his lap.
“Oh, that’s great. Can you get anything from it?”
“Well, it was very wet, as you can imagine, but once it’s dried out, it should be good for some clues.”
Charlotte nodded. “Fingers crossed. Anyway, how did it go with the Slade family last night? I assume you went round to see them? I would have asked you about it last night, but it was too late to get into a conversation by the time you got home.”
“Yes, I went round. Suffice to say, I was about as welcome as a hole in a lifeboat - definitely not Maureen Slade’s favourite person.”
“Oh. Why’s that?”
“Because I arrested her boys, I suppose. It can’t be because of anything else. I don’t know the woman in any other capacity.”
“You know, Ava told me that Mrs. Slade’s husband died shortly after the boys were sent to prison. She said his death was caused by the stress of the trial. Did you know that?”
Nathan shrugged. “You hear these things but, again, I hardly knew her husband so how would I know? I only heard about his death because I’d been the investigating officer on the boys’ case. Had I not been, I doubt I would have known anything about it.”
“Ava also mentioned the other day that Bill Slade ran a protection racket, back in the day. Did you know about that?”
“Bloody hell, Charlotte. Has Ava taken up covert ops as a sideline? Yes, I’d heard about the protection racket but only in conversation because it was way before my time. By the time I joined the force, Bill Slade’s alleged criminal activities were a thing of the past. Unfortunately for everyone concerned, though, his sons carried on in true Slade tradition where he’d left off.”
Nathan got up from the table and put Pippin in his basket. Yawning widely, he took a roast potato from the dish on the counter and tossed it from one hand to the other before popping it into his mouth. “Anyway,” he blew out the heat as he spoke, “can we change the subject? I’ve already had enough of the Slade family to last me a lifetime and I’m doing the witness appeal tomorrow.
“We’re getting married next month. Surely we can find something more interesting to discuss over dinner?”
Charlotte filled a dish with broccoli and baby carrots. “Well, funny you should mention the wedding because there are a few things I’ve been meaning to talk to you about ...”
Chapter 6
“Well, if you can do me a 10% discount on those, I’ll take two boxes.” Charlotte chatted to Dawn the Prawn, her shellfish supplier.
“Two boxes? Okay, my lovely, that’ll be £50 for cash. Thank you darlin’. I’ll just go out to the van and get them for you”
Two minutes later, Dawn was back with two mixed boxes of scallops, crayfish and razor clams. “There you go. Pleasure doin’ business with you, my lovely. I’ll see you again next Monday.”
“Thanks Dawn. See you then.”
As Dawn went out, Ava came in. “Oh, hello, Charlotte dear. I’m glad I caught you while you’re not too busy.”
“Hi, Ava. Hang on just a minute, can you? Let me put these in the fridge ... right, I’m back. What can I do for you?”
Ava opened her shopping bag and took out what looked like a ball wrapped in tissue paper. “Be careful dear, don’t drop it.”
“What on earth’s this?” Charlotte peeled back the paper to reveal a snow globe paperweight.
“I know how much you loved that tacky little ornament, dear,” said Ava, “so I bought you another one. I think it’s the same.”
Charlotte leaned forward and kissed Ava on the cheek. “Ava! That’s so kind of you. Honestly, I’m really touched.” She held the globe up to the light, pretending to inspect it thoroughly. “But actually, it’s not the same.”
“Give it here.” Ava snatched it from her hand and examined it closely. “It is so, the same. I made absolutely sure that I got the exact same design.”
Charlotte smiled. “No, Ava, it’s not the same, it’s better. Because it’s from you.”
Ava’s cheeks flushed and she became a little flustered, as she always did whenever someone got what she called ‘mushy.’
“Oh, get away with you. It’s only a cheap souvenir.”
Charlotte knew the woman well enough to know that even though she gave the outward impression of being unmoved, inwardly, Ava was thrilled.
“You didn’t have to, you know. But it’s so nice that you did.” Charlotte threw the leftover Halloween candle in the bin that had been keeping the recent delivery of newspapers in place and replaced it with the snow globe. “There, that’s much better.”
“Yes, well, you make sure you look after it,” said Ava.
“I will. Cross my heart.” Charlotte drew her finger across her chest. “Tell you what, when we close up at the end of the day, I’m going to put it in my cupboard under the bar for safekeeping. How’s that?”
Jess came in from the terrace with a food order. “Oh, you found the snow globe, I see. Morning, Ava.”
“No, Ava bought us a new one.”
“Oh, nice one, Ava. Thanks.” Jess handed the food order to Charlotte and set out four saucers on which to place four coffees. “You staying for a coffee?”
“No thank you, dear.” She checked her watch. “I have an appointment with my dentist in forty minutes, but I’ll call in afterwards.” She delved into her shopping bag again. “By the way, have you seen today’s paper?”
“No, why, what’s it say?” Jess craned her neck to see from behind the bar.
Ava put on her glasses and read out the headline.
“LOCAL MAN THROTTLED TO DEATH IN REAL-LIFE HALLOWEEN HORROR STORY - Mother remembers her son in touching tribute and makes damning accusation.”
The newspaper headline accompanied a photograph of Samuel Slade alongside a smaller one of Maureen Slade holding a tissue to her eye, her face creased in grief.
“The body they found - it was Samuel Slade. You know, Maureen Slade’s son. I’m not particularly fond of the women but I can’t help feeling sorry for her.” Ava looked over the top of her bi-focal glasses.
“It says here that she was looking forward to spending time with her sons again after being apart from them for so long, but that the opportunity has been cruelly snatched away due to the incompetence of the police.
“She says, ‘It breaks my heart that I will never see my Samuel’s face again. And for that, I lay the blame squarely at the door of the detectives working out of the St. Eves Police Department. If they’d been doing their job properly, he wouldn’t have been murdered. They have the blood of my husband and my son on their hands today and I hope they all rot in hell.’”
Overly sensitive of any criticism aimed towards Ben, or the police, Jess immediately jumped to the defence of the entire force.
“How dare she criticise them! What a nerve! They can’t possibly prevent every crime that’s committed. And anyway, this is still one of the safest places to live in the UK!”
Ava tucked the paper away again in her bag. “Calm down dear, I’m only telling you what’s being reported. And if you’re going to step out with a detective, you’d better get some thicker skin. They don’t often get good press, I’m afraid, so you’re going to have to get used to it.” She pulled her hat down and tightened her scarf. “Right, well I’m off, but I’ll be back later. Toodle-pip, girls!”
Jess waited until Ava had left and she’d delivered the coffees to the waiting customers. She stomped back into the café, her cheeks pink and her eyes blazing.
“That flippin’ Maureen Slade. I could throttle her. Ben and Nathan and Fiona ... all of them, they’re all damn good at their jobs.”
Charlotte squeezed Jess’s hand. “It’s so difficult to take when the police get criticised, especially when you’re going out with one of them. Believe me, I know, but you’ve g
ot to try and let it go over your head. It’ll drive you mad otherwise. Remember, the woman’s just lost her son. She’s bound to want to lash out and blame someone. It’s just words spoken in the heat of the moment - I’m sure she doesn’t really mean them. Anyway, let’s turn on the TV. Nathan’s appeal should be on at eleven.”
ººººººº
“May I begin by offering the heartfelt condolences of the St. Eves police force to the family and friends of Samuel Slade. Our thoughts are with them at this very difficult time.
“On the evening of Saturday, the 31st of October, the body of Samuel Slade was found on the marina in St. Eves at approximately 11.30 pm, between Charlotte’s Plaice café and the Chandlery. He had been strangled.
“I would ask you to cast your mind back to between the hours of quarter-past midnight on the morning of Friday, the 30th of October, which is when the last known communication with Mr. Slade took place, and when Mr. Slade’s body was found. Please think carefully. Did you see him during that time?
“You will see, on the board beside me, pictures of the clothes Mr. Slade was wearing at the time of his death. Do you recall seeing anyone of his description in these clothes? If you do, please let us know. You can visit the station in person, or contact the incident room on 070 123 321, where officers are waiting to take your call. All information will be treated in the strictest confidence and you can, of course, remain anonymous if you wish.
“Likewise, if you think someone close to you may have committed this terrible crime, I would urge you to put your loyalties to one side and let us know.
“We are also seeking Mr. Slade’s watch. It’s a distinctive design, as you can see from the picture here of a similar model, and if you have any idea of its whereabouts, I would ask that you contact us with the information.
“Starting today and for the next week, our officers will be conducting house to house enquiries to gather information which we hope will help us to piece together what happened to Mr. Slade prior to his death. Can I ask that you please cooperate fully with our officers and tell them anything you think may help us with this investigation. Even if you think the information you have is too insignificant to be of any use, it could be the one thing that helps us to solve the case, so please don’t keep it to yourself. This is your opportunity to help give closure to Mr. Slade’s family, and to help restore peace and safety to our community.
“I would like to conclude my appeal by reassuring you we are doing everything possible to bring the perpetrator of Samuel Slade’s murderer to justice. In the meantime, I would ask that you go about your normal lives but remain aware of what is going on around you. If you see anyone behaving in a suspicious manner, please do not approach them, but call 999 immediately. The number for our incident room will remain on your screens until the next news bulletin, on the hour. Thank you.”
Nathan went back to his office. No clues, no witnesses and robbery being the only apparent motive. Or was revenge more likely?
There was no doubt in his mind that there were numerous people who would have been only too happy to learn of Samuel Slade’s death but, for now, who they were remained a mystery.
He rubbed his temples and the bridge of his nose.
“Nathan, we’re going to the canteen if you’re interested?” A colleague called out to him.
“Start without me. I’ve got to make a quick phone call - wedding stuff.” He got up and closed the door. Right. Wedding cars. He scrolled through the numbers on his phone until he found the one he was looking for.
“Hi. Yeah, long time no speak. How’re things going? Great, that’s great. Look, I haven’t got much time to talk right now but I’ve got a plan and I wondered if you’d be interested in being a part of it?”
ººººººº
“Thanks for agreeing to see me, Mr. Hall. I’ll do my best to make sure we get through this as quickly as we can. Then you can get back to your family.”
On a bitterly cold Monday evening, Nathan sat in front of the open fire in the living room of Lionel and Heather Hall’s comfortable home. Lionel Hall had welcomed him warmly and Nathan was in no doubt that the man knew exactly the reason for his call.
“For heaven’s sake, Nathan, will you please call me Lionel. You know I can’t stand all this standing on ceremony nonsense.”
It wasn’t often that Nathan agreed to drop the formalities when he was conducting police business but over the years, he had come to regard Lionel and Heather Hall as close acquaintances.
He smiled at the man sitting in front of him settled in his favourite armchair with a tumbler of whisky and dry ginger ale, his favourite after-dinner tipple.
Nathan had known the Hall family for years but had only become close to them following the first robbery at their hardware store.
“Okay, Lionel. So, you know why I’m here. The body of Samuel Slade was found on Saturday night and I need to ask you some questions.”
Lionel Hall sipped his drink. “Because you think I had something to do with it?”
Nathan sidestepped the question. “I didn’t say that, but I wouldn’t be doing my job properly if I didn’t ask you about it. Of all people, you possibly have one of the strongest motives for wanting to cause Samuel Slade harm.”
“You’re right there, lad. I do.” Lionel Hall stared into his drink as he ran his finger around the rim of his glass. “And if you ask me if I’m sorry he’s dead, I’ll tell you that I’m not. Not a bit. As far as I’m concerned, he got his comeuppance. Nothing less than he deserved for what he put us through with those brothers of his.” His hand trembled as he raised his glass to his lips.
“Lionel, I have to ask where you were between the hours of quarter-past midnight on the morning of Friday the 30th and half-past eleven on the night of Saturday 31st?”
Lionel scratched his head. “Well, I was in bed at quarter-past midnight on Friday the 30th until six o’ clock when my alarm went off but I’m afraid the only person who can confirm that is Heather. Then I left the house at seven-thirty and got to the shop at eight o’clock. I did some paperwork, restocked the shelves and opened up, as usual, at nine.
“I took forty-five minutes for lunch from quarter-past twelve to one o’clock, when I went to the bank and bought a sandwich from ‘The Bakehouse’ in the town. Then I took it back to the shop and ate it while I read the paper.
“It had been a quiet day, because of the weather, I suppose, so I locked up shop a little early at quarter-to six and went home, where I stayed until the alarm went off at six o’ clock on Saturday morning and I went through the same routine again, except the shop closes at three o’clock on Saturdays. I came straight home after I’d locked up and stayed here until this morning.
“If you need anyone to vouch for my whereabouts, Sheila in the bank can tell you that I was there, Lydia in The Bakehouse will confirm that I went in and bought my usual sandwich, as I do almost every day, and Virginia will confirm, to the second, what time I left the shop and got back again. That girl doesn’t miss a trick.” He smiled and finished his drink. “So, you’ve got no idea who murdered him, then?”
“Not at the moment, no. But we’ve already had some promising leads from our enquiries.” Nathan scribbled in his notebook. “Right, so can I presume it’s safe to say that you have no information regarding the murder of Samuel Slade?”
“You can.”
Nathan knew the next part of his questioning wasn’t going to be so easy.
During the first robbery in which Lionel had suffered a serious head injury, Heather had been threatened with violence if she didn’t divulge the combination for the safe to the masked robbers.
The aftermath of the robbery had been traumatic for them all, but particularly for Heather. For months afterwards, she’d been unable to work, frightened to leave the house and terrified to answer the door. Many were of the opinion that had it not been for her involvement in the St. Eves Ladies Association, she may have ended up in therapy but, with help of the ladies, deeply tr
aumatised but reparable, Heather Hall had slowly begun to smile again.
The second robbery, a year later, had almost killed her.
For days afterwards, everything she ate or drank came back up again such was her state of extreme panic. A spell in hospital had helped her to get her back on her feet but it was the SELA that coaxed her back to life. Yet again, they’d come to her rescue but Heather had never been the same since.
“Lionel. I have to speak to Heather, too. It won’t be easy for her, I know, but it’s necessary I’m afraid.”
Lionel Hall shook his head. “I’m sorry, Nathan. I can’t let you do that. You know how fragile she’s been since the robberies. Even though they were so long ago, she’s still troubled by what happened. I dread to think how the mention of Samuel Slade’s name will affect her - dragging all those old emotions up again.”
“Come on, Lionel. Don’t make this more difficult than it already is. I have to question her. You know I do.”
Lionel Hall sighed heavily, not meeting Nathan’s eye. “I’m disappointed in you. I really am.” He got up from his chair, stopping halfway as he waited for his knees to straighten out. “Wait here. I’ll go and get her.”
Nathan hated that his questioning of Heather Hall would cause her pain, but he had little choice in the matter.
Lionel came back into the room. He was a tall, straight-backed distinguished looking man with a full head of snow-white hair and a matching moustache. Favouring tweed suits and brogues, he’d always put Nathan in mind of a country gentleman - a Lord of the Manor type.
“She’ll be along presently, but I’ll say it again, Nathan, I’m not at all happy about this.”
Nathan’s response went by the wayside as Heather Hall walked in, her hand outstretched, and he hid his sadness at how the past years had taken their toll on the woman.
Her shoulder-length salt and pepper hair was pulled back off her face with a band, accentuating the white flashes at her temples. There was a time when she’d been a jolly, curvaceous woman - vibrant and full of life - her ample flesh spilling over her necklines and a smile never far from her lips.
