by P. F. Ford
‘Err, well, I, err, I suppose it’s always good to get a well-rounded view of your colleagues,’ she stuttered. Now she, too, looked deeply embarrassed.
‘Hey, look,’ said Norman. ‘I don’t want to embarrass you guys, but I have to tell you, I think you’ll make a great team. You have empathy. I always thought that was one of the things that made us a good team, Dave, don’t you?’
‘You seem to have made your mind up about where I’m going to be working,’ said Slater. ‘But you seem to have forgotten I’ve just discovered my would-be boss has been spying on me.’
‘He was looking out for Jenny,’ said Norman. ‘You should be happy about that.’
‘What about not telling me who started the fire?’ asked Slater.
Watson looked at her watch. ‘That was for your own protection,’ she said, as she slid the envelope across the desk to him.
‘So you know who it is too?’ asked Slater.
‘No,’ she said. ‘I just know it was for your own good.’
‘So, what’s in here?’ he asked, grabbing the envelope and tearing it open.
Norman moved to look over his shoulder as he pulled out a photograph and stared at it.
‘You’re kidding me!’ said Norman, staring open-mouthed at the image.
‘What is it?’ asked Watson.
Slater dropped the photograph onto the desk and pulled a second from the envelope.
‘Holy shit!’ said Norman. ‘Isn’t that your house? And look at the date and time stamp!’
‘Bitch!’ said Slater, tossing the second photo down with the first. ‘I’m going to kill her!’ He made to rush for the door, but Norman wrapped his arms around him before he could move.
‘Get off me, Norm!’ Slater cried.
‘Watson, lock the door!’ yelled Norman, struggling to hold Slater back. ‘Don’t let him out!’
Watson rushed over to the door, turned the key in the lock and pulled it from the door. When she turned back, Norman and Slater were embroiled in an unseemly wrestling match that seemed to involve lots of cursing, swearing, and heavy breathing. The curses were Slater’s; the heavy breaths were Norman’s.
She rushed back to her desk and snatched up the photos. The first one showed a good-looking woman in black running gear and wearing a blue hat. She was obviously at some event – possibly a fun run, or something similar. The second photo showed the same young woman at someone’s front door. She was slipping a key into the lock and looking furtively over her shoulder.
The two men had collapsed in a heap on the floor, and she rushed over to try to stop the fight.
‘Stop it!’ she yelled at them. ‘Stop!’
There was a new noise in amongst the chaos, which she recognised as Norman’s mobile phone. They weren’t listening to her attempts to break up the fight so, for want of something better to do, she picked up the phone.
‘Hello?’ she said, showing remarkable poise in the circumstances, ‘Norman’s phone. Who’s calling, please?’
‘Who’s that?’
‘This is Watson. Who are you?’
‘This is DC Naomi Darling. Is Norm there?’
‘Err, he’s a bit busy at the moment. Can I take a message?’
‘What on earth is that noise?’
‘It’s Norman and Mr Slater. They’re fighting.’
‘They’re what?’
‘Mr Slater made a rush for the door, and Norman stopped him. I don’t really understand, and I don’t know what to do. It’s something to do with a woman in a photograph. My boss gave it to him.’
‘Ah! A woman in a photo? And Norm tried to stop him? Is she a strawberry blonde?’
Watson scrabbled for the photos. ‘It’s difficult to tell, but yes, she could be.’
‘Right. Now I get it! Suddenly things are beginning to add up.’
‘Not at this end,’ said Watson.
‘I’ll explain when I get there,’ said Darling. ‘Just get it through to them that DCI Goodnews has just been arrested. That should stop them fighting, and tell them if they haven’t calmed down by the time I get there, they’ll have me to deal with. I’ll sort the silly buggers out!’
Watson put the phone down and turned her attention back to the floor, where things seemed to have quietened down quite considerably. There was a metal tea tray on the end of the desk. She grabbed it and began to slam it against the desk. The din was appalling, but it got their attention.
‘Now, stop it!’ she shouted. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it! How dare you start behaving like animals in my office!’
They had stopped writhing around now, and both looked decidedly sheepish.
‘That was DC Darling on the phone,’ continued Watson. ‘She said to tell you DCI Goodnews has just been arrested and driven off to Winchester.’
‘What?’ said Slater, sitting up and then climbing gingerly to his feet. ‘But how did they kn—’
‘That’s why Mr Bradshaw wanted me to keep hold of the photos,’ said Watson. ‘He guessed you’d be out of here like a shot once you knew, that’s why he had her whisked away. He didn’t want you doing anything we would all regret.’
‘But she could have killed Jenny!’ said Slater.
‘Exactly,’ said Watson. ‘That’s why she’s been arrested. I hear attempted murder has been mentioned.’
‘Which is probably what you would have been arrested for,’ puffed Norman, to Slater, ‘if we’d let you get there.’
‘It would have been more than just attempted,’ remarked Slater.
Concern shadowed his face as he looked down at Norman, who was lying flat on his back, his hands to his chest. He was still puffing hard, and his face had turned a rather unhealthy shade of grey. There was a blueish hue to his lips. Slater suddenly felt worried.
‘You knew about this?’ he asked, trying to behave as normally as possible.
‘I knew as much as you,’ gasped Norman, ‘until I saw those photos. And if I’d known she was going to be arrested at one, I wouldn’t have been wrestling with you, would I?’
‘So Bradshaw—’
‘Guessed you’d be mad enough to go after her, yeah,’ said Norman. ‘I just wish he’d told me. Jeez, I feel like I’m going to have a heart attack.’
‘Oh, good lord,’ said Watson, bending down over Norman.
Now the words had been spoken aloud, Slater was seriously concerned by the way his friend was struggling to breathe.
‘Bloody hell, Norm, don’t say things like that.’ He knelt down next to him, took hold of his wrist, and felt for a pulse. It was there, but like a wounded butterfly; it seemed to be fluttering wildly just to keep going.
‘Well, that’s a relief,’ he said, gently releasing Norman’s wrist. ‘There is a pulse, so you must still be alive.’
‘Just don’t tell me if it stops,’ said Norman. ‘I’d rather not know, but if it does, you can have my night-vision goggles.’
‘Christ Norm, it’s not going to bloody stop. Don’t say things like that. I’ve just lost my dad, I’m not ready to lose you, too. I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.’
‘Hurt me?’ said Norman weakly. ‘What makes you think you hurt me? I had you completely subdued.’
‘Yeah, right,’ said Slater. ‘Of course you did. Here, let’s try to make you comfortable.’
‘Should I call an ambulance?’ asked Watson, quietly.
‘No, I’ll be fine,’ said Norman, struggling to breathe.
‘Yes, please, Watson,’ said Slater, making himself comfortable next to Norman. ‘Let’s get one here and get him checked out.’
‘I’m okay,’ insisted Norman, his face sallow. ‘I’ll be as right as rain in a few minutes.’
‘If you go any greyer, Norm, you’ll look like you were made of concrete,’ said Slater. ‘We’re calling an ambulance and that’s that.’
‘Well, at least help me up,’ said Norman.
‘No, you’re staying right where you are. I admit you’re making the place l
ook seriously untidy, but then you always do, so we can live with that.’
‘You’re not gonna rush off, are you?’ asked Norman, clutching anxiously at Slater’s hand. ‘Only I don’t wanna go on my own.’
‘Go?’ said Slater. ‘The only place you’re going is to the hospital in the ambulance when it gets here.’
‘If it gets here in time.’ Norman closed his eyes.
‘Where did Mr-Bloody-Negative come from all of a sudden?’ asked Slater. ‘What have you always told me about that?’
‘Jesus, don’t you go on about it now you’ve got it?’ said Norman, opening his eyes again. ‘Sometimes I wish I’d let you carry on being Mr Doom-and-Gloom.’
‘The ambulance is on its way,’ said Watson, ‘and I’ve unlocked the door. I’ll go and keep an eye out for it.’ She headed off for the door, worry etched all over her face.
‘Can you do me a favour?’ asked Norman.
‘Sure.’
‘Can you call Jane? She was going to come over for a drink later, but that’s probably not going to happen now, right?’
‘Yeah, I’ll call her just as soon as we get you sorted out.’
‘You can probably tell Jenny she’s safe to come back too.’
‘I’ll make sure she’s not still on the wanted list first,’ said Slater.
‘No, she’s not,’ said a female voice behind him.
‘Naomi? You got here quick.’
‘Not quick enough by the look of it,’ she said, kneeling down next to Norman and taking his free hand. She looked worried sick, but she kept it out of her voice.
‘Is this because you don’t want to come to my party, you silly sod?’ she asked him. ‘You could have just said no. You don’t have to make such a drama out of it.’
He managed a half-smile. Darling looked around at Slater.
‘What on earth were the two of you doing fighting? I thought you were supposed to be mates.’
‘Watson was exaggerating,’ said Norman, raising his head a couple of inches from the floor. ‘We weren’t fighting. I was just trying to make sure this idiot didn’t do anything he would regret. And don’t blame him, it’s that Black Witch. It’s all her fault. If she hadn’t started the fire, none of this would have happened.’
As he finished speaking he lay back and closed his eyes, and for a moment Slater thought the worst, but then he could see Norman’s chest was still rising and falling.
‘The ambulance is here,’ called Watson from the doorway.
There was the sound of running feet, and then two paramedics came rushing through the door and across to Norman.
‘What have we got then?’ asked the first as he came through the door.
‘Possible heart attack,’ said Slater, moving aside.
‘Right then, mate,’ said the paramedic as he sank to his knees next to Norman and began to examine him. ‘You just lie there and we’ll soon have you sorted out.’ He looked at Slater. ‘He’s a big lad.’
Slater gave him a sad little smile. ‘Yes, I’m afraid you’ll need the extra-wide stretcher.’
‘Hey!’ said Norman, without opening his eyes. ‘I might look it, but I ain’t dead yet, so watch what you’re saying.’
The paramedic grinned, and winked at Slater. ‘I think he’ll be all right,’ he said. ‘He’s got spirit.’
Chapter Thirty-Three
‘The hospital rang. Norm’s okay. He’s had a close escape, but he’s going to get through it,’ Slater said, beaming.
‘But there must be some sort of underlying problem,’ said Watson.
‘Well, yeah, I think we can all see what the problem is. Maybe now he’ll do something about it.’
‘Do you think he will? I rather got the impression he’s not the sort to be worrying about his weight.’
‘You’re right there,’ said Slater, ‘but I was talking to Jane at the hospital last night, and she told me she’s not prepared to sit back and watch him kill himself, so I don’t think he’s going to have much choice.’
‘Are they actually an item? Isn’t her husband coming back?’
‘He’s coming out of prison, but she won’t have him back. She’s divorcing him. In fact, it was his stuff in the boxes we put into storage.’
‘Have the doctors said anything about how they’re going to treat Norman?’ she asked.
‘He’s got at least one blocked artery, but they think they can sort him out with a stent rather than having to open him up.’
‘Gosh! That will put him out of action for ages, won’t it?’ Watson said. ‘Do you think he’ll come back to work afterwards?’
‘I suppose it will all depend on how he feels when he’s recovered, but I’ll be very surprised if it stops him for long. I mean, he could be retired now, but he isn’t.’
‘So what happens in the meantime?’
‘I had a long chat with Norm about that yesterday, and I was talking to Jenny about it last night,’ he said. ‘How d’you feel about you and me working together?’
Her eyes widened as he spoke. ‘You mean you’re going to take the job? Oh, how wonderful! Mr Bradshaw will be so pleased, and I think I’d rather like it too.’ She was so excited she didn’t seem to be able to stop talking. ‘What does Jenny say? Where is she, anyway?’
‘She’s going to stay at Jane’s to help her out with the kids for a couple of days. She says we should go for it.’
‘Well, there you are then!’
‘I want to know about your bionic knee,’ he said.
She looked a little pensive. ‘What about it?’
‘Like how long is it before you get the all clear to use it? If I’m going to be a DI, I need a DS I can trust and rely on, and if I have my way, I’d like you to be that person.’
‘Oh, goodness! Really?’
‘Yes, really, but you need to be able to get around, and not by stuffing yourself full of painkillers.’
‘I stopped using those over a month ago,’ she assured him, ‘and you know I’ve ditched the walking stick.’
‘Well, for what it’s worth, I thought you managed fine at the Storage Centre, and you were quick enough and agile enough when you needed to be, so what’s the situation, honestly? Are you really ready?’
‘Yes, I am. It’s just a question of passing the medical. It’s a formality, honestly.’
‘So you’d be up for giving it a go, then, as my DS? I don’t know how long it’s going to take to sort things out with Bradshaw, and I haven’t a clue where we’re going to be based, so you might be hanging around for a few weeks.’
She seemed to have swelled with pride and was beaming from ear to ear.
‘I’ll be ready whenever you are, sir,’ she said.
‘One more thing,’ he said. ‘I can’t keep on calling you Watson. Didn’t you say your real name is Samantha?’
She was actually blushing. ‘Gosh, sir, isn’t that rather informal?’
He smiled at her. ‘Is Sam okay?’
‘Oh! I don’t think anyone’s ever called me by my first name at work.’
‘Well, someone does now!’
Epilogue
‘I don’t understand, Mr Slater,’ said Rosie. ‘How on earth did Joe come to have all those diamonds? And if they were worth so much money, why was he living here, like a pauper?’
Slater put down his cup and saucer.
‘To really understand, you need to go right back to the 1980s when a gangster called Ronnie Scanlon and his gang pulled off a big diamond robbery. The police caught the gang, but they never found out what happened to the diamonds. They managed to convict them all because one of the gang, a man called Kenny Wingate, gave evidence against the others in exchange for a short sentence and a new identity.’
‘So where does Joe come into it?’ asked Rosie.
‘I’m coming to that,’ said Slater. ‘Now, Kenny Wingate shared a cell with a man called Brian Harding. The thing is Kenny was a bit of a big-head, and he couldn’t resist bragging to Brian about how clever he wa
s, and how he knew where all these diamonds were stashed away. We think he even told Brian his new name was going to be Arthur Bradbury.’
‘That was a bit daft,’ suggested Rosie.
‘It certainly was,’ said Slater, ‘because Brian figured if he could find Kenny, or Arthur as he was now known, when he got out of prison, he would also find the diamonds. It took him over ten years travelling up and down the country, but eventually Brian found Arthur, bumped him off, and took the diamonds. He thought he was going to live the high life, but he soon found out Ronnie Scanlon’s son was also looking for the diamonds, and they were hot on the trail.’
‘Sounds to me like these diamonds were more trouble than they were worth,’ said Rosie.
‘That’s exactly right,’ said Slater. ‘Now Brian had a big problem. He had a body to hide, and load of diamonds he couldn’t sell, and a big London mobster looking for him. We believe that was when he decided to come and pay his brother, William, a visit. We think he murdered William, buried both bodies under William’s half finished patio, let things lie for a couple of months, and then moved into William’s house, using the name Joe Dalgetty.’
‘Oh my God,’ said Rosie, horrified. ‘You mean to say I was friends with a murderer?’
‘I’m afraid so,’ said Slater.
‘But why would he kill his own brother?’
‘William had looked after his parents all his life, whereas Brian was very much the black sheep of the family. When the parents died, William inherited everything and Brain got nothing, so there was a long standing grudge which probably made it a lot easier.’
‘So Kenny became Arthur,’ said Rosie, ‘and then Brian became Joe, and they were both the names of two schoolboys who died in the sixties? I don’t know what the world’s coming to.’
‘It makes you wonder doesn’t it?’ agreed Slater.
‘So what about this money Joe left me?’ asked Rosie. ‘I don’t think I want it now I know what’s been going on.’
‘We’re still not really sure where that came from,’ said Slater. ‘It looks as though he may have sold a couple of the diamonds to raise that cash, but in the process he alerted the Scanlons, and that’s why they were looking in this area. It just happens he came across that young burglar before the Scanlons got to him.’
