by P. F. Ford
Slater’s mouth had dropped open.
‘Didn’t your mother ever tell you to keep your mouth shut when you’re eating?’ she asked, then indicated his glass. ‘I take it you want another drink?’
Slater managed to close his mouth, but he still couldn’t speak.
‘I’ll take that as a “yes”, then,’ she said, and made her way over to the bar.
Shit, thought Slater, realising he really couldn’t read her at all. Is she flirting with me, is it just the drink talking, or am I getting this all wrong? Things could get seriously bloody awkward if she was flirting with him. But she wouldn’t, would she? No, of course not. If anything happened between them it would stop any further progress up that slippery career pole, and she wouldn’t want that.
‘I think we’ll be needing to order a taxi to get us home,’ she said when she came back with the drinks. ‘We’re both well over the limit now. It wouldn’t look good if we got caught, would it?’
She sat down and started looking absently around the pub, as if she’d never been inside one before.
‘It’s alright for me, I’m only ten minutes away,’ he said. ‘But you live thirty miles away. It’ll cost you a fortune.’
‘I’ll walk back to the office and get out the camp bed,’ she said.
‘You can’t sleep on that bloody thing again,’ he said. Then, without a second thought, he added, ‘Why don’t you come back to my place?’
She snapped her head back to look straight at him. He couldn’t tell if she was horrified or delighted by the idea.
Oh crap. That was stupid of me. Why did I say that?
‘I mean I’ve got a spare room,’ he said, quickly. ‘I didn’t mean to suggest we should, err, you know. Well, that’s not that I meant. I just mean my spare bed must be more comfortable than your camp bed.’
She tried to look horrified, but her face soon broke into a grin, and then she started laughing. ‘That’s very sweet of you,’ she said. ‘But I don’t think I could impose on you like that.’
He breathed a sigh of relief, but his mouth didn’t seem to be connected to his thoughts any more.
‘Don’t be silly, it’s no trouble,’ he said. ‘I had that room decorated months ago, and it’s a new bed, too, never been slept in. I’ve been waiting for someone to try it out.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
Goodnews was sitting in her office, gazing out of the window behind her desk. She wasn’t looking at anything in particular, just staring into space, wondering what the hell was happening to her life. Normally, nothing was ever done without her taking the time to assess the likely outcome. She was always in full control and things ran like clockwork, but just lately it seemed a lot of things were happening over which she had no control, and last night she had even become reckless and let her guard down – something she never did. It seemed everything was beginning to fall apart.
She normally worked with an open-door policy, but this morning the door was closed. A sudden knock interrupted her thoughts; she had asked Slater to come up and see her. Reluctantly, she slowly swung her chair round to face the door.
‘Come in,’ she called.
The door opened slightly and he poked his head through. ‘You wanted to see me?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Come in and shut the door.’
She watched him as he did as she asked and walked across to her desk. She looked up at him from behind the desk. For once, she didn’t feel quite as confident as she normally was, and she suddenly realised she was using the desk as a barrier between them. As if to prove to herself just how rattled she was, she found she was fiddling nervously with a pencil on her desk.
‘Is this about last night?’ he asked.
She looked away for a moment and her cheeks flushed. ‘I thought we had agreed nothing happened last night,’ she said. ‘It was just two colleagues having a couple of drinks while they discussed a case.’
She watched as he pursed his lips. He was clearly irritated.
‘I think you’ll find you agreed that,’ he said. ‘I don’t recall being asked what I thought.’
‘Look,’ she said, realising she probably sounded rather desperate, ‘if anyone was to find out, it would be the end of my career.’
‘Well, no one’s going to find out anything from me,’ he said.
She thought for a second. ‘Everyone found out about Darling being at your house that night,’ she pointed out.
‘I think you’ll find that was a bit different. That night I was the one who had had too much to drink. She did me a favour and took me home. Anyway, nothing happened when Darling stayed over and you know that.’
‘It took a lot of denying from both of you, though, didn’t it?’
‘I can’t help it if people have suspicious minds,’ he said.
‘Well, I don’t want to have to deny anything, okay?
‘You’ve already made that crystal clear,’ said Slater, testily. ‘But, like I told you a hundred times already, I know how to be discreet. I won’t tell a soul.’
Goodnews placed her elbows on her desk and put her head in her hands. ‘Less than a week ago, my life was going just how I wanted, and I had everything under control,’ she said. ‘But now, well, I don’t know. It’s like I’m driving a car downhill, but the steering’s gone, and there are no brakes...’
‘Well don’t blame me,’ said Slater. ‘All I did was offer you my spare bed for the night.’
She thought about what he was saying, then she looked up. ‘No, you’re right,’ she said. ‘It’s not your fault and, if I’m honest, last night was just what I needed. For a few hours, I forgot all about the chief constable and his demands.’
‘Ah, right. So that’s what this is about. What’s he done now?’
‘He’s just called to tell me there’s no turning back from the decision to close the forensics lab.’
‘Crap,’ said Slater. ‘That’s a big blow, but at least you knew it could happen.’
‘Aye,’ she said, ‘but if that goes, so does one of my best arguments for closing another station and moving all the staff over here. Without the lab, Tinton becomes the favourite to close.’
‘Ah, right,’ he said. ‘Is that for real?’
‘Aye. And what with our non-existent security, and a suicide on the premises, I don’t think we’ve got a hope in hell of surviving.’
‘Suicide?’ said Slater. ‘What suicide?’
‘That’s another decision he’s made,’ Goodnews said. ‘I’ve been instructed to accept Ian Becks’ death was suicide and close the inquiry.’
‘But what about all the other evidence?’ asked Slater, in dismay. ‘What about the pathology report? What about the fact a dead man can’t make a phone call to trigger the bomb? We can’t stop now!’
‘I don’t have any choice. If I don’t close the case, I’ll be removed from my job and someone else will close it.’
‘Give us until the end of the week,’ he said. ‘You know as well as I do this wasn’t suicide. We can prove it, we just need a bit more time.’
She looked up at his face and could see how desperately disappointed he was. ‘I’m sorry, but my hands are tied. I understand how you feel but we don’t have any more time. I have to reassign everyone today and wind it up.’
‘But it’s not all up-to-date yet,’ he said. ‘You can’t just abandon an investigation half-finished. Someone will have to finish it off, right?’
‘Well, yes, of course,’ she said.
‘Well, I could do that, couldn’t I?’
Goodnews thought about it. He was right to say she wasn’t convinced it was suicide, and she had actually argued that point with the CC, but he had been adamant she had to accept it was suicide, close the case, and move on. He had also made it quite clear what would happen to her if she ignored his instructions. Then she had an idea that made her sit up straight. Yes, she thought, there is a way we can get a couple more days out of this.
‘Okay,’ she said, suddenly feeli
ng in control again. ‘I need to know you understand it’s not my choice to close this case.’
‘Well, yeah, of course I do,’ said Slater. ‘It’s just the chief constable trying to put you in your place. I can see that.’
‘Right. I just needed to know you understand my position here.’
‘Oh come on, be fair,’ he said. ‘I’m not a complete idiot.’
She gave him a little smile. It was her first one of the morning. ‘Right, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to call a halt to the investigation and reassign everyone, but obviously I need someone to wrap everything up and close the investigation properly. That someone will be you. I suggest you might find more peace and quiet, and fewer distractions, if you take it home and do it. What do you think?’
Slater didn’t need to think for long. ‘So let me get this straight,’ he said. ‘You want me to work from home, where no one else knows what I’m doing. So, if I wanted to go out and speak to someone just to make sure they were happy with their statement, that would be okay.’
‘You’re a conscientious DS,’ she said. ‘I trust you to do the job without having to keep tabs on you all the time. I think you know what I’m saying. Just remember you’re on your own.’
This seemed to cheer him up. ‘How long have I got?’ he asked.
‘I can hide it until the end of the week without a problem,’ she said.
Now he didn’t look quite so happy. ‘But it’s already Wednesday morning,’ he said. ‘That means I’ve only got two and a half days!’
‘If you can find me something I can use to prove it definitely was murder, I’ll go and stand toe-to-toe with my boss and he’ll have to back down’ she said. ‘But until then, this is the best I can do.’
‘This sounds like mission impossible,’ he said. ‘Shouldn’t we be sending for Tom Cruise?’
‘I’m putting my neck on the line here for you,’ she said, ‘but, of course, if you think it’s beyond your capabilities...’
She had guessed this would be the right one of his buttons to push, and sure enough, she was correct.
‘I’ll do it,’ he said, indignantly. ‘Just make sure that if I do find something, you can make a good enough argument to keep the case going.’
‘Och, don’t worry,’ she said. ‘You find a good one and I’ll argue until I’m blue in the face.’
‘And if it is Serbia, and we’re stirring up a nest of vipers?’ he asked.
‘Then we’ll have to deal with it, won’t we?’ she said, decisively.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Slater placed the pile of assorted paperwork on the back seat of his car and climbed into the driver’s seat. He had worked on his own from home before, and actually quite enjoyed the freedom it would give him, although with such a tight deadline it would have been handy to have some sort of help.
He had just started his car when his mobile phone began to ring.
‘I was trying to get hold of you last night,’ said Norman’s voice in his ear. ‘Did you have your phone switched off? I left a message on your landline, but you didn’t call back.’
‘Ah, yeah,’ he said. ‘Err, I was a bit busy, you know how it is.’
‘If you had your phone switched off it means you were off-duty for once,’ said Norman. ‘What was it, a hot date?’
Slater blushed. ‘Something like that,’ he admitted.
‘So, who was the lucky lady? Anyone I know?’
‘What did you want, Norm?’ asked Slater, hoping to deflect Norman’s train of thought. ‘Only I’m driving.’
‘Okay,’ said Norman. ‘If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine, you keep your secret.’
‘So what’s so important you were trying to track me down?’ asked Slater.
‘I just wondered if you might wanna come and see Shenzi tonight.’
‘I would, Norm, but I’m really up to my neck at the moment. I’m going to be working twenty–four hours a day for a couple of days.’
‘No shit,’ said Norman. ‘Whatever happened to duty rosters?’
‘This is a bit of a special case.’
‘I thought you were working on Becksy’s case?’
‘Yeah, I am,’ said Slater. ‘But Goodnews has pissed off the chief constable, and now I’m having to work on my own from home.’
‘How the hell does that work?’ asked Norman. ‘I thought she could do no wrong.’
‘It’s complicated. That was then, and this is now. It’s office politics and all that crap.’
‘You sound like you’re in the shit,’ said Norman. ‘You want some help?’
Slater thought for a moment. Norman wasn’t police any more so using him would be right out of order, but then again, this whole situation with the chief constable was right out of order.
‘Can you spare a couple of hours?’ he asked.
Norman laughed. ‘Hey, look, I’m retired with nothing to do at the moment. I can spare a couple of weeks! Where are you?’
‘I’m just heading for home. It’s my office for the next two and a half days.’
‘Gimme half an hour and I’ll be there,’ said Norman.
Slater tossed his mobile phone onto the passenger seat, started his car, and zoomed out of the car park. With any luck, he would have enough time to remove all traces of Goodnews from his house before Norman got there.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Slater had already told Norman about the case, but things had moved on since then, so Norman had insisted Slater start again from scratch and tell him everything they knew.
They had just finished watching the CCTV footage from the three different cameras.
‘So I was right about there being two couriers,’ said Norman, ‘but in my head I figured they would have been working together. You reckon they weren’t. Are you quite sure this guy from ASprint isn’t bullshitting you? I mean, I can see it looks like he didn’t know, but maybe they planned it the way it happened.’
‘Well, he convinced me he was for real,’ said Slater, ‘but even so, I did consider the possibility it had been planned—’
‘But you didn’t go for it,’ finished Norman.
‘The thing is, it relies too much on chance to have been planned by the two of them. What if the traffic had been bad and the courier was delayed? What if Becksy had gone outside and been waiting when the real courier arrived? What if he hadn’t waited? It’s not as if it was urgent – the parcel could easily have been left at the front desk for him to collect next morning.’
‘Yeah, I see what you mean,’ said Norman. ‘But even if you say it was just the guy who came into reception who planned it, doesn’t chance come into it just the same?’
Slater thought about it. He could see what Norm meant, and he couldn’t really argue with it, but he was still convinced Justin Wells had been telling him the truth.
‘We can come back to that,’ said Norman. ‘Tell me why you think Slick Tony and his Russian hitman have to be behind this.’
‘That’s easy,’ said Slater. ‘What are the chances Becksy sends a fingerprint query to Interpol about the big man, and then within a week Becksy gets incinerated and the hard evidence goes with him?’
‘But didn’t you say it was Goodnews who had the bright idea of stirring up the shit through Interpol?’ asked Norman. ‘So why haven’t they tried to kill her?’
‘Maybe she’s next,’ said Slater. ‘And maybe we’re on the hit list as well.’
‘That doesn’t work for me,’ said Norman. ‘If they were going after both of them, why wait? Wouldn’t they have done them quick? This way, Goodnews knows they’re coming for her, right?’
‘She doesn’t believe they will,’ said Slater.
‘Well, for once, I agree with her,’ said Norman. ‘And I don’t see us as targets either.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘I can’t be sure, but something about this doesn’t add up for me. You said yourself you thought it was weird they would go to all the trou
ble of murdering Ian and then frame him as well, and I agree with you. Remember when they came after us? They could easily have killed both of us, but they didn’t. What did that Russian guy tell you?’
‘You mean the one who was pointing a gun at me?’ asked Slater.
‘Yeah, he pointed it at you but he didn’t pull the trigger, did he? Likewise, he turned my home into an open fire, but he watched me for several nights and didn’t make a move until he was sure I wasn’t going to be in there. That’s my point, remember? So what did he say?’
‘He said killing us wasn’t worth all the hassle it would create for them,’ recalled Slater. ‘They figured the UK police force wouldn’t have the cash to make a big deal out of a warning, but they would be obliged to find the money if a police officer was murdered.’
‘Exactly,’ said Norman. ‘So they’re not going to go after a DCI, are they? And why would they kill Ian Becks? It has to be a whole lot less hassle in the long run if they frame him and destroy his credibility, hasn’t it?’
‘I can buy that,’ said Slater. ‘But there’s just one little problem with that idea. They did kill him, didn’t they?’
‘But did they?’ argued Norman. ‘Let’s look at this again. Okay, we know there was an explosion, and we know Ian’s dead body was found afterwards, but didn’t the pathologist say he was dead before the bomb went off?’
‘Yeah, you’re right,’ said Slater. ‘I’m looking at this through blinkers, aren’t I? I’m so sure they’re to blame, I’m ignoring the facts.’
‘Okay,’ said Norman. ‘So let’s have a look at some of the facts again, now you’ve lost the blinkers.’
Slater felt rather stupid that he had needed his ex-partner to step in and sweep the fog from his eyes.
‘Here’s something you need to consider before you decide it’s all about the bomb,’ said Norman. ‘I’ve seen the work of bombers up in London. Even if you only want to kill one person, you don’t use a piddly little incendiary device. They’re meant for starting fires, not killing people.’
Slater nodded unhappily. He should have been thinking like this from the start, but as soon as he had found out about the Interpol connection he’d only had eyes for one theory.
