The Red Telephone Box (DS Dave Slater Mystery Novels Book 5)

by P. F. Ford

  Goodnews was thinking hard. There was no way she wanted to let this arsehole go, but she had to think about Slater. How could she get him out of there?

  There was a tap on her passenger window and she looked up to see it was Steve Biddeford. She switched off her microphone and beckoned him into the car.

  ‘I know I might be speaking out of turn,’ he said, ‘but there’s a problem, isn’t there?’

  ‘On another day you probably would be speaking out of turn,’ she said. ‘But yes, there is a problem. Our suspect is already here, and he was here before we were. Slater has just walked into a trap. As far as I can tell Howes has knocked him out.’

  ‘Crap,’ said Biddeford, looking worried.

  ‘Very deep crap,’ echoed Goodnews. ‘He’s threatening to kill Slater, instead of Norman, unless I let him get away.’

  ‘Can you do that?’ asked Biddeford.

  ‘Right now, I can’t see that I have much choice. I can’t trade Slater’s life.’

  ‘Let me go down there,’ said Biddeford.

  ‘What makes you think he would let you go down there?’

  ‘How about we get him to swap? Me for Dave.’

  ‘He definitely won’t go for that,’ said Goodnews. ‘He knows Norman and Slater are mates as well as partners. The way he sees it he might have missed the chance to kill Norman, but if he kills Slater instead, Norman will feel it was his fault and have to live with all that guilt. And anyway, why would he exchange an unconscious hostage for a conscious one?’

  ‘Bad idea, then,’ agreed Biddeford.

  ‘We need to get Slater out of there bloody quick,’ said Goodnews. ‘Howes is as mad as a box of frogs. He could go over the edge at any moment.’

  ‘So this calls for something a bit drastic, then,’ said Biddeford. “In which case, I might have a plan.’

  ‘Go on, try me,’ Goodnews hoped to God it was a good one.

  Chapter Forty

  ‘How much longer am I going to have to wait, DI Goodnews?’ asked Howes, over the radio. ‘It’s been well over an hour now and I’m getting more tense by the minute.’

  ‘I can’t arrange something like this in five minutes,’ replied Goodnews. ‘It takes time.’

  ‘I’m getting very tense.’

  ‘Half an hour. Just give me half an hour.’

  ‘You’ve got fifteen minutes,’ said Howes. ‘And then I strangle your man. If I have to wait any longer he might be awake, and then he’ll know he’s dying. I’m sure you’d much rather he went in his sleep.’

  ‘Alright, you’ve made your point,’ said Goodnews.

  She turned to Biddeford.

  ‘How much longer?’

  ‘We’re ready now,’ he said. ‘Just say the word.’

  ‘Go for it then,’ she said. ‘He’s promising to start strangling Slater in fifteen minutes.’

  ‘Okay,’ Biddeford said turning to the two police officers behind him. ‘Let’s get these masks on, then we go on my signal.’

  He pointed to the nearest officer.

  ‘You drop the bomb, and then follow us down the stairs. You’ll be looking to grab DS Slater and get him out of there as quick as you can.’

  Then he turned to the other.

  ‘You follow me inside as soon as the bomb goes off. You look after DS Slater. I’m going to take out Howes before he has time to react, okay?’

  The officer nodded. They slipped on their breathing gear and gave each other a thumbs-up.

  Biddeford and his partner went across to the stairway down to the basement while the other waited by the vent pipe. As soon as Biddeford gave him the signal, he pulled the pin from a tear gas grenade and dropped it down the vent pipe.

  Biddeford counted to three and then his partner rushed down the steps and threw himself at the door, which gave way with a crash as he piled into it. Biddeford was following close behind, carrying a massive high-powered torch. He shone the beam through the door, to reveal Tommy Howes reaching to place his hands around Slater’s neck.

  The tear gas was doing its work. He was already gasping for breath, and his eyes were streaming so badly he didn’t see Steve Biddeford coming until the 14-stone police officer crashed into him.

  He flew backwards, crashing against the wall and then to the floor, but with zero vision there was nothing he could do as the powerful Biddeford leapt upon him and began to pummel him into submission.

  It was, literally, all over in a flash. In less than two minutes, Slater had been carefully carried from the gas-filled basement and gently laid down in the fresh air, and Howes had been led away in handcuffs.

  ‘That was good thinking,’ said Goodnews to Steve Biddeford, as she watched Howes being led away.

  ‘I have my moments,’ said Biddeford.

  ‘I’m not going to embarrass you by asking you to explain how you come to have a tear gas grenade in the boot of your car,’ she said. ‘We can think about how we can explain that when we come to write the report.’

  ‘Ah. Yes,’ said Biddeford, sheepishly. ‘About that-’

  ‘I said I don’t want to know right now.’ She gave him just a hint of a smile. ‘But don’t look so worried,’ she said. ‘You’ve done well. You’ve just saved DS Slater’s life.’

  Biddeford felt slightly happier.

  ‘You’ve got a good skill set, and I’m sure you’ll go far,’ she continued. ‘But if you really want to make progress in your career you need to understand you can’t always do what you want to do. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices for the team, and it’s much better for everyone if you do it without complaining.’

  ‘Right. Thank you, Boss,’ said Biddeford. ‘I’ll try to remember that.’

  ‘Do you think you can finish off here?’ she asked. ‘I want to get to the hospital. We can worry about paperwork later.’

  ‘No problem,’ said Biddeford.

  ‘And tell everyone I’m over at the hospital. We’ll go to the pub tomorrow.’

  Chapter Forty-One

  Goodnews couldn’t remember the last time she had to visit one of her team in hospital, and yet here she was, in this tiny outpost of a town, with not one but two officers receiving treatment. Anyone would think it was a war zone.

  She found the two of them in adjoining rooms away from the main wards. She looked in on Norman but didn’t disturb him as he was in a deep sleep. The duty nurse told her he was suffering from the effects of dehydration and was likely to be here for two or three days.

  In the adjoining room, she found Slater, who, despite his protests, was going to be kept in overnight for observation. She had been told he might appear to be a bit drowsy and a bit hazy in his thoughts, but that was only to be expected after being bashed across the head, surely.

  ‘They won’t let me go home,’ he told her.

  ‘Of course they won’t’ she said. ‘This is the second time you’ve bashed your head and been brought in here. What do you expect them to do?’

  ‘But I’m fine. And I’ve got work to do.’

  ‘I’m sure I can cope without you for a day or two,’ she said. ‘Besides, I thought you hated paperwork.’

  ‘Well, yeah, I do,’ he said.

  ‘So stop whining, and do as you’re told.’

  ‘But I’m going to miss out on that pint you promised me,’ he protested.

  ‘I think I owe you bit more than a pint,’ she said.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘I let you walk into a trap,’ she said, sheepishly. ‘So I think I owe you an apology at the very least.’

  ‘There was no way you could have known he was down there waiting for me,’ he said. ‘That was down to the people at the other end not doing their jobs properly.’

  ‘Even so. I should have made sure the place was clear before I let you go down there on your own. Saying I’m sorry sounds inadequate, but I don’t know what else I can do.’

  A cheeky grin suddenly took over Slater’s face.

  ‘You could give me another kiss,’ he said, w
inking at her.

  ‘Oh no I bloody couldn’t,’ she snapped. ‘I’ll never be that sorry.’

  His face fell at her tone, and she couldn’t resist playing him at his own game.

  ‘Anyway that reminds me, DS Slater,’ she said. ‘We need to have a chat about your attitude towards senior officers, and particularly about the incident in the railway station.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ he said, his voice worried. Try as she might, faced with Slater’s own discomfort, Goodnews couldn’t keep a smile from creeping across her face.

  ‘Ah, right,’ said a clearly relieved Slater. ‘Nice one. You had me going there.’

  ‘I mean it,’ she said. ‘You’re far too familiar. I can’t have everyone talking to me the way you do.’

  ‘But I don’t mean to sound disrespectful,’ he explained. ‘That’s just me being me. It’s how I am.’

  ‘I understand that,’ she said. ‘But it’s something you need to watch. Don’t forget you’re setting an example to those ranks below you. We’re here to work, not flirt.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I never intended to offend you.’ he said. ‘If I’m honest I’ve enjoyed working with you, so I hope you won’t hold it against me.’

  ‘I don’t hold grudges,’ she said. ‘And you haven’t managed to offend me, but it is some advice you need to bear in mind for the future. Right?’

  ‘I feel too embarrassed to forget. Your advice is duly stored in my memory and will be recovered instantly should I ever have a woman boss again.’

  ‘That might be sooner than you think,’ she said.

  ‘Are you staying on? Tinton needs a good DI.’

  ‘Aye, you’re right there,’ she said. ‘But it’s not going to be me.’

  Slater’s eyes were beginning to close as he struggled to stay awake.

  She leaned across and put a hand on his arm.

  ‘You need to get some rest,’ she said. ‘And I need to get some sleep, too. I have to question Howes in the morning, but I’ll look in on you and Norman again tomorrow afternoon.’

  As she stood to leave, Slater spoke, stopping her in her tracks.

  ‘I’m really sorry if I offended you,’ he mumbled, drowsily. ‘But you have to admit there’s no pleasing you women, is there? You complained when you first arrived because I was behaving like I didn’t like you, and now you’ve complained because I behaved like I did like you. Maybe if we should ever be in that situation again, you could play your part a bit more enthusiasti…’

  His sentence drifted to a halt as he finally dozed off.

  ‘A bit more enthusiastically?’ She quietly finished the sentence for him, as she turned to go. ‘In your dreams…’

  Next morning, Slater was disappointed to find he wasn’t going to be allowed home yet. In fact, he was told he was unlikely to be allowed home until DI Goodnews came to collect him some time this afternoon. But he had been given permission to go next door and speak to Norman.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m okay,’ said Norman. ‘How are you is more to the point. You’re the one who got his head bashed in, not me.’

  ‘But I’m a tough nut to crack,’ Slater said, smiling. ‘Maybe if he’d hit me somewhere else I would have been in trouble, but back of the head? I didn’t even feel it.’

  ‘It’s all very well for you to make light of it, but it should have been me he attacked, not you. I feel bad about that.’

  ‘As he knew you would,’ said Slater. ‘That’s why he was quite happy to have me as a substitute victim.’

  ‘And I should have told you who was behind it instead of sulking just because Goodnews put my nose out of joint.’

  ‘She’s alright, Norm, really. I think you’d like working with her.”

  Norman didn’t look convinced, and changed the subject.

  ‘So how did you find me?’

  ‘We just followed the clues you left,’ said Slater.

  ‘Clues?’ said Norman. ‘I didn’t leave any clues.’

  ‘Sure you did,’ said Slater. ‘First there was the jacket.’

  ‘I lost that somewhere,’ said Norman. ‘I think I might have left it on the train.’

  ‘I thought you had done that on purpose, so we’d find it,’ said Slater.

  ‘But you would have known I caught the train from CCTV,’ said Norman.

  ‘What about the clues in the pocket?’

  ‘In the pocket?’ said Norman, looking vacant.

  ‘The piece of paper wrapped in foil,’ explained Slater. ‘It had “check the old box” written on it.’

  ‘No, sorry. You’ve got that all wrong,’ said Norman. ‘That wasn’t a clue. It was a tip I was given for the Grand National, but I never got round to checking it out, or putting a bet on.’

  ‘So you weren’t telling us to go to the old red telephone box in Little Balding?’ asked Slater.

  ‘How would I have known I was going anywhere near it?’ asked Norman. ‘I just did what I was told to do on the night. I thought I was going to Southampton until I got the phone call just after the train left Tinton.’

  ‘So you didn’t do the drawing in the phone box?’ asked Slater.

  ‘I didn’t go anywhere near the phone box,’ said Norman. ‘I got picked up by Tim Jolly before I got that far.’

  Slater was confused. This didn’t make sense. If Norman hadn’t left the clues, who did? Or was it a series of bizarre coincidences? Now his head was beginning to ache again.

  ‘So, if you didn’t leave the clues, that must mean Tim Jolly did,’ said Slater. ‘he stole my car, drove over to the phone box and left the clues. But why would he do that if he was involved?’

  ‘Because he didn’t really want to be involved in something this extreme,’ explained Norman. ‘He’s done nothing but apologise all the time he was holding me in that cellar.’

  ‘But why get involved then?’ asked Slater.

  ‘Howes first convinced him about me and Jane, and then he threatened to hurt his kids if he didn’t do what he was told.’

  ‘But why didn’t you let me know what was going on? I could have helped you if I’d known.’

  Norman looked away, and sighed heavily. When he looked back he was embarrassed.

  ‘Because I’m a bloody fool,’ said Norman. ‘You know I’ve always wanted to believe I could get back together with my wife, right?’

  Slater nodded. It was never spoken about, but he knew.

  ‘Well, when Howes first started calling and texting it was just to taunt me. That’s why I changed my phone number.’

  ‘So how did he get the new number?’

  ‘I gave it to my wife,’ said Norman. ‘I had to know she could always get in touch with me if she wanted to.’

  ‘She could have told Howes,’ said Slater.

  ‘Or he could have just checked her phone,’ said Norman. ‘Anyway, it was after I changed the number he started making threats against her. I don’t think she knew anything about that. I tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t listen to me.’

  ‘You really think he would hurt her?’ asked Slater. ‘She seemed pretty committed to him when we spoke to her. She even made a decoy run for him so he could get down here undetected.’

  ‘He turned her against me,’ said Norman, sadly. ‘He can be very convincing. He certainly convinced me she was in danger. I just did whatever he told me to try and keep her safe.’

  ‘But he would have killed you!’ said Slater.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Norman, sheepishly. ‘But you do whatever it takes when you think someone you love is in danger, right?’

  Slater didn’t know what to say to that, and he had run out of questions for the moment, but Norman evidently had a few of his own.

  ‘So tell me about DI Goodnews,’ said Norman, suddenly much brighter. ‘You and her seem to be getting on pretty well considering you only just met.’

  ‘She’s alright,’ said Slater. ‘She’s a bit feisty and doesn’t suffer fools gladly, but that’s okay by m
e. And she’s very cool and collected. I think I might have ended up doing the headless chicken thing, you know? But she made sure we all kept it professional and methodical.’

  ‘Nah,’ said Norman. ‘You woulda been fine. You woulda found me anyway.’

  ‘I’m not so sure.’

  ‘This is beginning to sound like hero worship,’ said Norman. ‘Or maybe it’s just that you fancy your chances with her.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Slater, uncomfortably. ‘She’s not my type.’

  ‘And what is your type? I seem to remember you saying you don’t actually have a particular type.’

  ‘Yeah, well,’ said Slater, embarrassed. ‘Whatever my type is, she’s not it.’

  ‘Yeah, right,’ said Norman, knowingly. ‘Whatever you say.’

  ‘Never mind about me.’ Slater was keen to change the subject. ‘What about your situation?’

  ‘I don’t have a situation,’ said Norman, rather too quickly.

  ‘What about your wife?’

  ‘I’ve been forced to face up to the reality of the situation over the past few days, and I think it’s clear where her loyalties lie,’ said Norman, ‘If she plotted with Howes to get him out of London and down here to kill me, it’s hard to believe she didn’t know what was going on. How could I ever trust her again after that? So, that’s it. It’s all over. Finito.’

  ‘She might not have known what he intended to do,’ said Slater.

  ‘Aw, come on, Dave. What are you saying? That she was an accidental decoy? She’s been sleeping with him. She knows he hates me. What more do you want? No, I have to forget her. You can’t mend broken trust.’

  ‘I’m sorry, mate,’ said Slater, sadly.

  ‘Don’t be,’ said Norman. ‘I guess, in my head, I knew it was over. It was just a question of waiting for my heart to stop hoping and catch up with reality, but it has now. I’m already over it.’

  On that, rather gloomy, note Slater decided he needed to sleep for a while so he made his excuses and walked back to his own room.

  He lay back on the bed, closed his eyes, and tried to rest. He felt desperately tired all of a sudden. If only he could clear his head and stop thinking, he’d be able to get an hour’s sleep, maybe then he’d feel better…