by P. F. Ford
“I’ll be round for breakfast at seven.”
Slater had described Jenny Radstock to Norman as an attractive red head with intense green eyes. As the door swung open, Slater reflected that he should perhaps amend one or two adjectives in that description. She looked furious, and he thought “aggressive” and “fierce” were perhaps more appropriate. This could get messy.
“Good morning,” he began, optimistically.
“Is it?” She gave him a withering look.
Norman took a step back, slightly behind his colleague. She glared at him.
“Who’s this?” she demanded, looking Norman up and down.
“Err, this is Detective Sergeant Norman,” explained Slater. “He’s working with me on this case.”
“Norman,” she repeated. “Didn’t you get sent up North?”
“Why, yes,” answered Norman, sounding surprised. “How did you know about that?”
“You’re one of half a dozen I know about,” she said shortly. “Along with Sergeant Sneaky, here.”
Slater looked horrified. He saw Norman look away, but had seen the grin cross his face. This really wasn’t supposed to be funny.
“Well don’t just stand there,” she snapped. “My neighbours will think there are tramps in the neighbourhood. Through here.”
She led the way into the house and pointed at two chairs in the living room. “Right, Sergeant Slater,” she said curtly, when they were all seated. “Talk to me. Let’s start with your accident. Tell me again what happened.”
“I just slipped and fell, that’s all.”
“Oh, really,” she said. “I heard someone tried to push you under a bus.”
“Ah!” said Slater. Caught in the lie, he sat there red-faced like the naughty schoolboy caught telling fibs.
There was an uncomfortable silence, finally broken by Jenny Radstock.
“This relationship won’t work if you’re going to lie to me, Sergeant.”
“I didn’t know we were in a relationship,” countered Slater. “And I didn’t know you were checking up on me.”
“I told you I was involved,” she said.
“But you didn’t tell me whose side you were on.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she demanded.
Slater thought it had started about as well as could be expected in the circumstances. At least she hadn’t physically attacked him, yet. But being called “Sergeant Sneaky” had certainly hurt.
“Right. Hold on. Let me explain what’s going on,” he began nervously. “It’s like this: during our investigations, we discovered Ruth was leading a double life. Up in town she was a high-class escort called Ruby Rider, and we believe she was taking things a stage further and charging for sex.”
“Are you sure? Does her sister know? You didn’t mention any of this the other night, did you?”
“I’ll get to why in a minute,” said Slater patiently. “We then found a link between DCI Mark Clinton and Ruby Rider, aka Ruth Thornhill.”
“Mark?” she interrupted. “You didn’t tell me this the other night either.”
“I had my reasons.”
“Like what?” she snapped.
“Like, you’re related to him by marriage.”
“What difference does that make?”
“It makes a lot of difference to us,” explained Slater. “We know there’s some sort of cover-up going on, and we had reason to believe it may involve the Serious Crime Unit. Then we discover Mark Clinton, who’s close to the top of the SCU, is involved with Ruby.”
“What? And you think that means I’m involved in this as well?” she said indignantly. “Do you go around suspecting everyone?”
Slater and Norman exchanged glances. Slater sighed heavily.
“Unfortunately, due to the nature of what we do, we can’t afford to assume everyone’s innocent.”
“Oh. So we’re all suspects then. Whatever happened to ‘innocent until proven guilty’,” she quoted. “That’s the law of the land, isn’t it?”
“If you don’t mind me saying,” interrupted Norman. “For someone in your position that’s a very naive attitude.”
She glared at him as if he was infectious.
“Actually, yes, I do mind you saying,” she snapped.
“Alright,” said Slater, beginning to get annoyed. “Let’s say we do it your way, and we assume everyone’s innocent. So I would have come around here the other night, told you everything I know, including what we now know about Mark Clinton, and if you weren’t innocent you would have gone straight back to him and told him what we know. With his connections he could pull all sorts of strings and all our work goes down the drain.”
“But I wouldn’t have told him,” she said. “Believe me, I wouldn’t throw him a rope if he was drowning, so I certainly wouldn’t want to get him off your hook.”
“Fine,” said Slater. “But I didn’t know that, did I? Having found the family connection between you, I couldn’t take that risk until I’d checked you out. It’s the job. It’s what we do. I’m sorry if that offends you, but it’s how we solve crimes. We couldn’t do that if we assumed everyone was innocent, now could we?”
She seemed to take on board what he had said, and Slater thought her rage faded just a tad.
“Yes, but why did you have to involve Lucinda and go looking into what happened years ago?”
“We have a link between an escort and a police officer,” explained Slater, patiently. “Then we find a link between that police officer and you. Then I spot a business card for an escort agency in your handbag.”
“So you put two and two together and come up with five,” she argued. “It’s all very circumstantial. It certainly wouldn’t hold up in court.”
“Which is exactly why we have to check it out.” Norman jumped in. “If there’s a possible link, we have to check and see where it leads. I understand how you must feel about what we’ve done, but how else could we build a case?”
“But if this gets out…” she began. “It costs enough to keep it quiet as it is.”
“It won’t get out,” said Norman emphatically. “Not from us. You have my word on that.”
Slater could see she was still feeling decidedly unhappy about the whole thing, but she was also an intelligent woman. Much as she may feel like a victim, she Slater felt she could see their side as well. After a few moments, she spoke again.
“So, what were you doing poking around in my handbag? I’m sure I didn’t leave it laying around where you could see it.”
“It was open on that little table in the hall. The business cards were poking out of the inside pocket. I only took it because I thought it was yours, with your number. Then I realised what it was and thought it might be significant.”
“That wasn’t my handbag,” she said. “That’s an old bag I haven’t used in years. I’m having a clear out – it’s bound for the local charity shop.”
“I didn’t think there was much in it,” he admitted. “But at least now we know whose side you’re on.”
“I hardly think I would have been urging you to investigate if I wasn’t on your side.”
Slater could see the anger was still there, bubbling away just under the surface, but he was beginning to feel a degree of righteous indignation of his own now. He was just doing his job, and he didn’t feel inclined to keep on apologising for doing it. If she didn’t like it she’d just have to get on with it.
“You’d be surprised how many people would do exactly that,” said Norman. “It’s supposed to make us think they couldn’t possibly be guilty of anything. But we’re not quite as stupid as people think.”
“Alright,” Ms Radstock said finally. “You had your reasons. We’ll have to agree to disagree about whether you were right or not. But you said there’s a connection between Mark Clinton and Ruth, or Ruby, or whatever her name is now.”
“I can’t tell you what that is, right now.” Slater knew this would probably make her annoyed again
.
“I think you bloody well can,” she snapped.
“I prefer not to.”
“What do you mean, you prefer not to?”
“You just told us you don’t like the guy. How do we know you won’t confront him? Then he’ll know we’re on to him,” Norman cut in.
“Have you interviewed him yet?”
“Not yet.” Slater glanced at Norman, surprised at the lie. Although, he supposed it hadn’t technically been a formal interview, after all.
“So what makes you think I’ll confront him?”
The two detectives exchanged an uncomfortable look. Ms Radstock seemed to read it perfectly.
“Oh my God!” she cried. “He was screwing her, wasn’t he? The bastard. He’s been cheating on my sister with a high-class whore. I’ll bloody well kill him when I get hold of him.”
“Whoa! Calm down,” said Slater. “That’s exactly what you mustn’t do. If he’s alerted to what we know anything might happen. It certainly won’t do our case any good, will it? This is exactly why we didn’t want you to know.”
“But this is my sister we’re talking about.”
“I think maybe now you’re beginning to get a feel for just how difficult our job can be,” said Norman. “It’s often a case of making a compromise between what we should do and what we have to do.”
She looked at them and Slater thought he detected a note of sympathy on her face. Perhaps she hadn’t ever considered what it was like to do their job before.
“But you can’t expect me to just say nothing,” she said. “It’s my sister. I have to.”
“We’re asking you to wait,” said Slater. “We think we’re on the brink of proving your brother-in-law has done a whole lot more than commit adultery.”
He just hoped that would be enough to make her think twice about speaking to her sister.
“Can I ask you a question?” asked Norman.
“Go on,” she said.
“A few minutes ago you said ‘it costs enough to keep it quiet’. Is someone blackmailing you?”
Her hesitation was momentary, but it was enough.
“How preposterous!” she said. “Of course not.”
“Miss Radstock. I hate to say this, but you’re not a very good liar. We weren’t born yesterday. If someone is blackmailing you, we can help. But only if you tell us who it is.”
For a moment, it looked as though she was going to make a big deal out of Norman suggesting she was a liar, but then the fight seemed to drain from her.
“Is it Mark Clinton?” asked Slater.
“Good heavens no,” she said. “I don’t think he knows anything about my connection to Beautiful Ladies. I don’t know for sure who it is, but I have my suspicions.”
“Who?”
“Well, that apology for a police officer, DI Jones, is the most likely candidate. He knows I’m gunning for him, and he would certainly know how to dig into my past.”
“How much is it costing you?” asked Norman.
“Five hundred a month,” she said. “If he finds out I’ve told you he’ll tell the world. I know he will.”
“Now, just calm down,” coaxed Norman. “We’re not going to rush in and start shooting just yet. Can you keep paying him for now?”
“I don’t have much choice, do I?” she said unhappily.
“We can sort this,” Slater assured her. “Trust me. This is all part of something bigger, I’m sure of that now.”
He looked sharply at her.
“Is there anything else we should know?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“No. Not that I can think of. Oh God, look at the time! I’m going to have to go. I have to be up in London this afternoon.”
“Well, I think we’re done for now,” said Slater. “But promise me you’ll get in touch if you think of anything else, please?”
“Alright,” she agreed. “But I want to know what’s going on. No more keeping me in the dark.”
“You’ve still got your wedding tackle,” said Norman on the way back. “But it was a close thing. I’d hate to get on the wrong side of her without a good reason.”
“She’s pretty fierce, isn’t she?” agreed Slater.
“Nice looking though,” said Norman. “Once she calmed down. All that aggression did nothing for her, but I guess that’s redheads for you. Fiery.”
Slater said nothing and they drove on in silence for a while. Norman kept glancing in Slater’s direction. Finally, Slater could stand it no more.
“What?”
“Did she really try to seduce you?” asked Norman.
“It’s no big deal,” said Slater.
“Are you kidding? She’s gorgeous!”
“Yeah,” agreed Slater. “She is. But I’d just be another notch in the bedpost, you know?”
“You turned her down?”
“She was a possible suspect, Norm. And I’m a professional.”
“Wow! If you turned her down, that was truly professional.”
They drove on a bit further. Slater could see Norman was itching to speak.
“What is it now?” he said, becoming slightly irritated.
“I bet there was a time when you would have jumped at the chance, right?”
“A few years ago,” Slater conceded.
“But now you feel different?”
“Yeah. Now you come to mention it,” agreed Slater, wondering where this conversation was going.
“Have you called Jelena yet?”
“Do we have to discuss my private life?”
“You haven’t, have you?” said Norman with surprise. “What’s the matter with you? She’s beautiful, she wants you to take her out and you want to be with her. All you have to do is pick the phone up.”
At the mention of Jelena’s name, Slater began to feel distinctly uncomfortable. He wondered why he hadn’t called her. He wanted to, but for some reason he just hadn’t. Why?
“Shall I tell you why you haven’t called her?” asked Norman.
“Since when did I ask for your advice?” Slater was getting really irritated now.
“I’ll tell you anyway,” said Norman, ignoring Slater’s irritation. “You’re frightened of her.”
“Don’t give up your day job to become an agony aunt.” Slater said, laughing. “What a load of old bollocks. Why would I be frightened of her?”
“Because you want a different sort of relationship, that’s why. Part of you wants to find out if she’s the one, and part of you is terrified she is and would prefer not to find out. At the moment, the terrified part is winning.”
“You think so, do you?”
“I know so,” said Norman, sounding certain. “You need to tell the terrified part of you the only way to know for sure is to make that call. Just do it, please. For me, huh?”
“Well, Deidre, thank you so much for your advice, but can we stop this conversation? Right now?” said Slater with finality.
“I’m done anyway.” Norman smiled, and Slater knew his fellow officer found it great fun getting under his skin. “Anyway,” Norman said, changing the subject. “What do you think about what Ms Radstock had to say this morning?”
“I think she’s telling the truth. I just hope she doesn’t go and tell her sister what Clinton’s been up to behind her back.”
“Actually, I don’t know if that would be such a bad thing,” said Norman, thoughtfully. “If she stirs him up it might just work to our advantage. It could force him to make a move of some sort.”
“I suppose it might,” conceded Slater. “What about that arsehole Jones? Blackmailing her like that? Do you really think we should let it run?”
“For now, yeah. I’m sure it’s all linked together. If we rush in now we might catch the one link but then lose the rest of the chain. What about the video of Clinton? Do you think Ruby did it all on her own?”
“I’m beginning to think it’s more and more unlikely, but it’s anyone’s guess who’s in it with her,” sa
id Slater gloomily. “How many suspects do we have for that right now? Is it three, or four? And they all have a motive of some sort. It’s like bloody mastermind, isn’t it? Every question we ask seems to lead to more questions. When are we going to start finding some sodding answers?”
“I’ve been thinking about Ruby’s partner in crime,” Norman said, thoughtfully. “We thought it was the boyfriend, but I don’t fancy him. Lucinda’s a possibility, but she doesn’t seem right to me. I’m no expert on these things, but in my experience there’s usually only one blackmailer.”
“You mean Jones?” Now Slater was a bit more excited. “But we’ve found no link between him and Ruby.”
“That doesn’t mean there isn’t one.”
“Maybe it’s time we asked Bob Murray for another warrant. I think perhaps it’s time we had a look at Jimmy Jones’ financials,” said Slater.
“Now there’s a coincidence.” Norman said, grinning. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
“How bad was it?” asked Biddeford when they got back. He looked Slater up and down, “I don’t see any flesh wounds, and I see you can still walk.”
“Let’s just say it ended better than it started,” said Norman with a grin. “She’d already had breakfast.”
“She did see our point.” Slater smiled. “Albeit somewhat reluctantly. But I’m not so sure she’s capable of keeping her promise not to tell her sister and drop Clinton in the shit.”
“We’ll have to deal with that when it happens,” said Norman. “But at least we’re still all on the same side.”
“As you’re so good at doing this financial research,” Slater told Biddeford. “We’ve got another one for you to look into.” He dropped the search warrant onto the table Biddeford was using as a desk.
“Oh great! You’re just too kind.” Biddeford grimaced. “I’d much rather be out with you guys, you know.”
“Yes, I know that, Steve,” said Slater, sympathetically. “But the boss wants us to keep you out of the firing line, and on this occasion I think he’s right. Besides, there’s not much more room on this tightrope, and we need someone we can rely on back here in the engine room.”
Biddeford accepted the compliment in silence as he looked at the new warrant.
