Dave Slater Mystery Novels Box Set Three

by P. F. Ford

  Bradshaw stared at Norman. 'Nearly everyone who wants to get anywhere works there at some stage,' he said. 'You have to know how it all works when you get to the top.'

  'Yeah, but you didn't just work there – you took the lead in a major case,' said Norman. 'Anyway, once Naomi found that link, it all seemed to fit, and I understood where that guy Driver came into it.'

  Bradshaw's eyes darted between the two of them. 'Driver? What the hell are you talking about?'

  'Tall, skinny guy, big black coat, looks like a vulture.'

  Bradshaw stared at Norman.

  'Driver is the guy you have on the inside of the Shapiro organisation,' Norman said. 'I dunno how long he's been undercover in there, but he must be pretty good. Apparently he's risen high enough to become Ben Shapiro's enforcer.'

  'I don't know what you're talking about. How could I have someone undercover? I left the drug squad years ago.'

  'I'm sure he's not your agent now, but you put him in there, didn't you? And having got him in there, it's quite possible you're still able to contact him.'

  Bradshaw slammed his fist on his desk. 'I've had enough of this. It's preposterous! I did not send an undercover officer to infiltrate the Shapiros, and even if I had, do you seriously think I would still be able to contact him? Are you mad?'

  'Maybe I am,' said Norman. 'But we have a witness who saw a guy matching Driver's description chase Jenny in front of a car. The car deliberately ran her down, and then Driver jumped in the car and they sped off, leaving her lying at the side of the road with a broken leg. A couple of minutes later, they came back, stuffed her in the car, and then drove off with her.'

  Bradshaw shrugged. 'I still don't see how you think you can link any of this to me. Jenny was a family friend.'

  'So you keep saying,' said Norman. 'But let's not forget she was also the person who screwed up your career, wasn't she?'

  Bradshaw stared silently at Norman, his face a picture of malevolence.

  'Anyhow,' continued Norman, 'it gets worse for your friend, Driver. When Jenny's body was found, there was a half-eaten pizza on a table nearby. For whatever reason, the local police didn't think this was worth checking out, but we did. It turns out the pizza was bought from a shop in town, by a guy who, once again, matched Driver's description.

  'And I have to say, he is one mean, nasty, piece of work. We believe he stuck a needle in Jenny's arm, injected enough heroin to kill an elephant, and then sat there eating pizza while he watched her die.'

  'That's appalling,' said Bradshaw. 'But you have to believe me when I say I have nothing to do with this man, and I'm sure he is not an undercover officer. There never was anyone in that position, and as far as I know, there still isn't.'

  'He's put a kid in hospital too. The poor kid showed us where he found Jenny's phone, and the next thing he knows, he's being run down by a car. Quite a coincidence, don't you think? That kid is in a really bad way, and if he dies, that'll be murder number two for Mr Driver. It seems the car is his weapon of choice. I guess that's why he got the name, huh?'

  Bradshaw sighed wearily, and his shoulders slumped. 'It's a wonderfully imaginative theory, but I'm afraid you've got so many details wrong you've ended up rather wide of the mark.'

  'So why don't you tell us where we've gone wrong?' Norman asked.

  'Driver is, as you say, Ben Shapiro's enforcer, but he's not an undercover drug squad officer, nor is he any sort of asset. He's a bit of a sadist who's there to do the Shapiro's dirty work.'

  Norman glanced at Darling. 'You're not convincing me,' she said.

  'I don't have to convince you. Don't forget who's in charge around here.'

  'Being in charge doesn't give you carte blanche.'

  Bradshaw looked suitably affronted, but he didn't speak.

  'Why would Ben Shapiro tell Driver to kill Jenny?' asked Norman.

  'Why do you think he sent out the threats when she first went to live with Jerry? He never wanted her anywhere near their business back then, and he certainly didn't want her taking his brother away now.'

  Norman stared at Bradshaw, and his face broke into a low steady grin.

  'What?' asked Bradshaw, 'What's that stupid face for?'

  'Well, I'm just wondering how you know all this about Ben and Jerry.'

  'I told you before, we thought there was some sort of feud.'

  'Yeah, but you also said surveillance was really difficult, and you didn't know what the feud was about. Now it seems you do know, so who's your source?'

  'I don't have a "source". It didn't take a lot of working out, did it?' snapped Bradshaw.

  'It certainly didn't if someone's reporting back to you.'

  'Or of it was your idea in the first place,' suggested Darling.

  Bradshaw glared at Darling. 'You really don't like me, do you?'

  'Is it that obvious?'

  'Patently.'

  'Good, I'd hate you to be in any doubt.'

  'I'm sorry, Norm,' said Bradshaw, 'but if you intend to make Ms Darling a permanent member of your team, I don't think I will be using your services again.'

  'I don't remember suggesting I wanted to offer my services again,' said Norman.

  Bradshaw raised his eyebrows.

  'Sorry,' continued Norman, 'but there are too many unanswered questions here for me to be able to trust you the way I once did.'

  'What? You'd give up this opportunity just because this girl--'

  'Let me stop you right there,' said Norman. 'It has nothing to do with "this girl". It's all to do with you. When we were called in to do this job, we were supposed to see it as dead simple and straightforward. We were supposed to accept it was a suicide, even though you already knew it wasn't. You even had a backup scenario in case we didn't accept the suicide idea. In that scenario, we would find out Ben and Jerry had fallen out, and as a result Ben had killed Jenny – or got this guy called Driver – to kill her. That should have been it: case closed, and no blame attached to you. Am I right?'

  'But that is what you've found, isn't it? It seems to be what you've just told me!'

  'But it's not that, is it?' said Norman. 'You should have thought twice about paying off Casey. He was so unconvincing, he made us suspicious right from the start.'

  'Casey? Who's Casey?'

  'Casey's the guy who handled the report when Jenny was found. It's funny you can't remember him. He remembers you, and he remembers the phone call you made to him.'

  Darling's mouth dropped open, and she turned to Norman.

  'I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier,' he said, 'but you weren't the only one who did some research last night. He was on the late shift, so I went and spoke to him.'

  He turned back to Bradshaw. 'That was another thing you forgot to mention. You must have known Jenny was dead within hours of it happening. Casey says you called him that same night.'

  'I had an urgent alert out for anyone matching her description,' admitted Bradshaw. 'Of course I knew.'

  'I was a police officer for a long, long time,' said Norman. 'I know how those alerts work, and I know it's not often they work that bloody fast. But, of course, there is another way you could have been alerted.'

  'You can check. You'll see it was the alert that notified me,' shouted Bradshaw.

  'You can bet we'll check, and it might even prove you're right, but at the very least, you've messed up big time, and Jenny got murdered as a result. What I can't decide is if it was down to bad luck, bad decisions, or did you actually arrange for her to be killed?'

  'For God's sake! Why on earth would I do that?' The phone began to ring on Bradshaw's desk. He glanced at it, and then at Norman.

  'Go ahead and answer it,' said Norman. 'We can wait.'

  Bradshaw picked up the phone and listened. Norman watched as a smile briefly flirted with the corners of his mouth, but it was dismissed before it could spread any further. He listened for a further minute or so before he spoke. 'Can you bring the report in and the photographs? Thank you.'
/>   He put the phone down and looked up at Norman. 'Tell me, when you had your little chat with Jerry Shapiro, did you suggest Ben might have been behind Jenny's death?'

  Now it was Norman's turn to be uncomfortable. 'We asked him if he knew anyone called Driver.'

  'And did he admit to knowing him?'

  'No, but we got the impression he was lying about that.'

  There was a knock on the door. Bradshaw walked across to the door, opened it, reached out, mumbled a few words, closed the door, and then retreated back into the room. He opened the folder he was carrying as he walked to his desk. He smiled at them as he sat down.

  'Well, now, it seems detectives Norman and Darling might not be quite as clever as they think they are.'

  He placed some photos on the table, quickly sorted through them, picked out three, and then placed them carefully on the desk in front of them.

  'Take look at these photographs,' he said. 'They were taken about an hour ago. You might want to pat yourselves on the back, as this seems to be a direct result of your last conversation with Jerry Shapiro.'

  They leaned forward to look at the photos. As they did, Bradshaw pointed to the first. 'This is Ben Shapiro. As you can see, he's taken a shotgun blast to the chest at close range. He's dead, of course.'

  He pointed to the second photograph. 'You can probably guess who this one is. As you said, he looks rather like a vulture. This is the man known as Driver. He's nothing to do with the drug squad, but he is Ben Shapiro's right-hand man. He, too, has been gunned down in the same manner.'

  'You know the man in the third photo, of course, as you've met him.'

  Norman had been completely wrong-footed by the arrival of the photographs and was having trouble processing what was in front of him, but now he could feel the blood draining from his face as he suddenly realised what Bradshaw was showing them. 'Jerry,' he said, quietly.

  He glanced at Darling. She had both hands to her mouth, her face ashen and eyes wide. He reached a hand out to her and squeezed her arm.

  'That's right, Norm. Very good,' Bradshaw purred sarcastically. 'I can't imagine how it happened, but it seems Jerry somehow got it into his head that Ben and Driver were responsible for Jenny's death, so this morning he took his revenge with a shotgun. As you can see, he's in handcuffs, and he has been charged with two counts of murder.'

  Norman looked up at Bradshaw. 'But we had no way of knowing he would do this,' he said, his voice a hoarse whisper.

  'Aren't you going to blame me for this as well, Ms Darling?' asked Bradshaw gleefully. 'Or perhaps you're not quite so confident about your case now?'

  Darling was shaking her head in disbelief, tears welling in her eyes.

  'Oh, don't look so upset. You've actually done a wonderful job between you. I think you should be congratulated. The world will be a much better place without someone like Ben Shapiro around. We've been trying to stop him for years, and now you two have done it in a matter of days. And no one can save him this time, can they?'

  Norman was still too stunned to say anything, and Darling was bereft.

  'Perhaps you two aren't cut out for this tough stuff,' said Bradshaw. 'I suppose haranguing an innocent man like me is far easier to stomach.'

  'Yeah, about that,' began Norman.

  'There isn't a shred of evidence to prove any of this is down to me, is there?' said Bradshaw. 'But it's possible two rogue detectives incited a man to take a shotgun and commit two murders.'

  'Now, just a minute,' said Norman. 'You can't be serious.'

  'Can't I? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't.'

  Chapter 24

  Five minutes earlier, a newish Range Rover had turned into the car park and screeched to a halt. The driver switched off the engine and turned to his passenger. 'Right,' said Slater. 'You're quite sure you want to do this? I know he's your boss, but this whole case has been a bloody wild goose chase right from the start. I don't mind following leads, but we've been up and down the north of England like a pair of bloody yo-yos looking for people who died years ago.'

  'I'm with you,' agreed Watson. 'It's been a complete waste of time.'

  'We might as well have been on holiday for all the good we've done.'

  'I'm as annoyed as you, honestly.'

  'Right. Come on, then,' said Slater. 'Let's see what he has to say for himself.'

  He jumped from the car and stormed angrily across the car park, Watson doing her best to keep up with him. 'Perhaps there's been a mistake,' she said, hopefully.

  'The mistake has been Bradshaw's if he thinks he can send us off to bugger about like that all the time. I came here to be a detective, not a bloody errand boy.'

  Watson thought there wasn't much point in arguing with him. He'd been getting more and more annoyed as the case had progressed, and some of the language he had used on the journey home had reminded her of her army days.

  Secretly, she thought falling out with his girlfriend had upset him more than he let on. He had told her he had known it was coming and that he didn't really care, but she hadn't been convinced. And there must be some sort of hangover from the Diana Randall case, whatever the psychologist might have said.

  She could understand why he was annoyed. After all, no one likes wasting their time, but his anger seemed to be disproportionate, and as they entered the building, she found herself hoping he wasn't going to do anything stupid.

  They had reached the corridor that led to Bradshaw's office now. Normally they would call in to see his secretary to make sure he was free, but today Slater wasn't in the mood for protocol. He wanted answers.

  'Shouldn't we check to make sure he's free?' asked Watson.

  'He'll just stall for time if he knows we're here,' said Slater. They had reached Bradshaw's door now, and as Slater reached for the handle with one hand, he knocked with the other and walked inside.

  He stopped so abruptly that Watson almost walked into him. She edged to one side and peered over his shoulder. A man and woman were sitting on two chairs in front of Bradshaw's desk. They were staring at some photos. The man had looked around and was staring at them, his mouth wide open in a perfectly round 'O' of surprise. Watson knew the face, but for a moment, she was so surprised she couldn't think of his name.

  Slater had no such problem. 'Norm? What are you doing here?'

  Now the woman looked around too. 'You too, Naomi? What is this?'

  'How dare you come bursting into my office like this,' roared Bradshaw. 'Have you no manners? My secretary should have told you--'

  'Your secretary doesn't even know we're here,' said Slater, 'so don't blame her. We've come straight here because we want some answers.'

  'If you want answers, you'll have to come back later. You can see I'm busy. Now get out.'

  Slater was at Bradshaw's desk now. 'We've just wasted over a week running around like a pair of idiots. Tell me why, and I'll leave.'

  'I don't know what you're talking about,' said Bradshaw.

  'Sure you do,' said Slater. 'That wasn't a case we were on, it was more like a game of hide and bloody seek but with no one to find. You must have known that!'

  'It was an important case that needed--' began Bradshaw.

  'We needed to get you out of the way for a few days,' said Norman. 'I said it was a stupid idea and we shoulda told you, but he insisted it would be okay and it would be better if you didn't know.'

  'Didn't know what?'

  'Inspector Slater, I suggest you take Sergeant Brearley with you and step outside – now,' warned Bradshaw.

  'What's been going on, Norm?' asked Slater, ignoring his boss, 'Why did you need me out of the way?'

  Darling was in tears, obviously deeply upset by something, and Watson automatically stepped forward to console her

  'I can give you the long story later,' began Norman.

  'You will tell him nothing,' snapped Bradshaw. 'I'll tell him myself when he returns later, as instructed.'

  Slater looked at Bradshaw with an expression bo
rdering on contempt. He could feel words he would regret forming in his mouth, but he managed to stop himself before they escaped. Instead, he focused his attention on Norman. 'Go on, Norm, let's hear it.'

  'I'm not quite sure how best to tell you this. I'm sorry, Dave, but Jenny's dead.'

  Slater tried to speak, but it was as if he had been punched hard in the guts. All the wind seemed to have been driven from his lungs.

  'She got herself involved with some drug dealers and ended up being murdered.'

  Slater managed to take a breath. 'Was this the Shapiros?' he asked.

  'You knew?' asked a shocked Norman.

  'Yeah, she told me.'

  'You never said.'

  'We decided it was better if no one knew. She knew I felt like a fool for being played like that. I think she wanted to spare me the embarrassment. But how did it happen? Why? Who did it?'

  'Well, that's what me and Naomi have been trying to find out,' said Norman. 'I feel terrible going behind your back, but we thought it was for the best, what with you being so closely involved with her.'

  'Now just a minute,' said Bradshaw. 'I'm supposed to be in charge here.'

  Watson had been studying the photographs on the table, and now she spoke. 'Isn't that the Shapiros in that photo?'

  'Yeah,' said Norman.

  'And isn't that other guy called Driver? He's your man on the inside, isn't he, sir?' she asked.

  Norman and Slater turned to Watson. 'Can you say that again?' asked Norman, jumping to his feet.

  Watson pointed at the middle photo. 'That man. He's known as Driver. He's the drug squad's paid informer in the Shapiro organisation. Mr Bradshaw recruited him years ago.'

  All eyes were suddenly on Bradshaw. His face had gone a strange colour, and he seemed to have lost his tongue. Darling was struggling to free herself from Watson's arms.

  'You bastard,' she hissed at Bradshaw. 'You were pulling the strings behind this all the time, weren't you? I bet you told him to suggest Ben start threatening Jenny, didn't you?'