A Skeleton In The Closet (Dave Slater Mystery Novels Book 7)

by P. F. Ford

  ‘You’re more worried about what Grimm thinks than about the fact we sent you after the wrong bloke, aren’t you?’ said Slater. ‘Don’t you have anything else in your life apart from your career? No wonder you were so desperate the other night.’

  Her eyes flashed angrily and for a moment he thought she was going to slap his face, but she seemed to change her mind at the last second and turned away from him.

  ‘Don’t you start lecturing me about how to run my life,’ she said. ‘I don’t need advice from the likes of you.’

  ‘You were asking me for advice the other night.’

  She whirled back at him again. ‘Yes, and I’ve already told you that was a bloody big mistake,’ she snapped. ‘I should have known you’d try to take advantage of the situation.’

  ‘Have you heard yourself? Because I tell you what, I’ve heard enough. Like I said before, you’re the one who’s got the problem with this. As far as I’m concerned, it changes nothing, and I haven’t tried to take advantage of anything, and deep inside you know I haven’t. If you regret it that much, you’d better find some way of dealing with it.’

  ‘I’ve had enough of this,’ she said, collecting her bag from the chair where she’d thrown it. ‘I’m going. I think it would be best if I take you off this case and you take a few days leave while I think about what I’m going to do with you.’

  ‘What you’re going to do with me?’ repeated Slater, aghast. ‘What? Are you going to push me out of the door just because you got carried away the other night and now you can’t deal with it?’

  ‘I think we’ve reached a point where it’s going to be difficult to continue working together,’ she said. ‘Maybe it’s time for you to move on.’

  ‘Oh, right. I see,’ said Slater. ‘So what happened the other night is all down to me. Well, d’you know what? I’ve been thinking about whether I want to carry on doing this recently, and I think you’re probably right, it is time for me to move on. But you don’t need to waste any of your precious time thinking about what you’re going to do about me, I’ll make it easy for you. I resign.’

  Goodnews hadn’t bargained on this turn of events and it showed on her face. ‘Now you’re bluffing. You don’t mean that.’

  ‘Yes I do. As of this very minute, I resign. You can stick your job right where the sun doesn’t shine.’

  ‘You can’t do that.’

  ‘Of course, you’d like to be the one who makes that decision, wouldn’t you?’ he said. ‘I bet sacking people makes you feel really powerful, doesn’t it?’

  Her face told him he probably wasn’t a million miles from the truth.

  ‘You talk utter rubbish at times,’ she said.

  He smiled a false smile. ‘I think you’ve got a problem there, because although your mouth is saying those words, your face is telling me something quite different.’

  ‘If you really want to resign I need it in writing,’ she said.

  ‘You’ll get it.’

  ‘And you’ll have to work a notice period.’

  ‘You must owe me at least a month’s leave, and you said you want me out of the way. Why don’t I take that leave, starting now?’

  ‘I’m not accepting your resignation.’

  ‘Fine. I’ll just stop turning up and you’ll have to sack me.’

  ‘Now you’re just being petty. I think you need those few days I suggested to cool down and think about it,’ she said, not quite so sure of herself now.

  ‘I don’t think I do,’ he said, ‘but I’ll take them anyway. Now, I think it’s probably best if you go, don’t you?’

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  It was after 9pm by the time Norman let himself back into Slater’s house.

  To his surprise, Slater was sprawled in an armchair watching football on TV, a can of lager in his hand, and two empties on the coffee table next to him.

  ‘Hi,’ he called.

  Without taking his eyes from the TV, Slater grunted and raised his can to acknowledge Norman’s arrival.

  ‘Beers are in the fridge,’ he said.

  ‘Am I right in thinking the dragon’s flown away?’ asked Norman, as he passed through on his way to the kitchen.

  ‘Only after she finally ran out of fire,’ said Slater.

  ‘Jeez, was she in a shit mood!’ called Norman from the kitchen, as he took a can from the fridge and popped the ring pull. ‘What brought all that on?’

  He came back and sat back on the settee. Slater still hadn’t taken his eyes from the TV.

  ‘I take it this must be a good game?’ said Norman, somewhat miffed that Slater didn’t appear to be listening.

  ‘Apparently I’m incompetent and can’t be trusted,’ said Slater.

  ‘What? Since when? You must be the best guy she’s got there by miles.’

  ‘But unfortunately I’m human, and being human I mess things up sometimes,’ said Slater. ‘And this time I messed up big time.’

  ‘We all make mistakes,’ said Norman. ‘Surely it can’t be that bad.’

  ‘Jimmy Huston has an unbreakable alibi.’

  ‘Okay, so that’s not so bad.’

  ‘Well, actually, Norm, that’s not the bad bit. There’s been a major cock-up. We told her Jimmy Huston had changed his name from James Radford.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s right,’ said Norman.

  ‘Ah, but it’s not,’ said Slater. ‘He was born Jimmy Huston. He has a passport that says Jimmy Huston, and it was issued eight years ago.’

  ‘But that can’t be right,’ said Norman. ‘I saw it in the records for myself.’

  ‘You can’t have done, mate,’ said Slater.

  ‘I’ll go and check right now, if you want.’

  ‘No, don’t worry,’ said Slater. ‘It doesn’t matter now, anyway. We’re off the case.’

  ‘What do you mean “off the case”?’

  ‘Well, I suppose officially you were never on it, and I’m sort of unofficially suspended,’ said Slater.

  ‘This is bullshit,’ said Norman. ‘She can’t suspend you.’

  ‘Well, she hasn’t officially suspended me. What she actually said was she thought I should take a few days leave while she decided what she was going to do with me.’

  ‘Holy shit! Is she trying to push you out? What the hell’s going on with you two? I thought you got on okay.’

  Slater looked guilty. ‘Yeah, well, we did get on okay. The problem is we got on a bit more than okay when she stayed the other night, and now she’s regretting it, and saying it was all my fault.’

  ‘Oh, Jesus,’ said Norman. ‘Is that what this is all about? I told you—’

  ‘Norm, I don’t need to hear it now, mate. I know you told me, and I probably should have listened, but I didn’t, okay? Keeping on about it won’t change what’s happened, but it will piss me off.’

  ‘No, you’re right. I’m sorry, it won’t change anything.’ said Norman. ‘I just don’t know what to suggest. Wouldn’t it be great if we could turn back the clock?’

  ‘Actually,’ said Slater, ‘I don’t think it would make any difference. I’m sure I would do exactly the same thing all over again. I don’t regret it one little bit.’

  ‘Jeez, spare me the gory details.’

  ‘I’m not going to give you any details. I’m just saying if the situation occurred again...’

  ‘I don’t think that’s likely, do you?’

  ‘I’m making sure of it,’ said Slater. ‘I’ve resigned.’

  Norman’s mouth flapped open wordlessly. It was almost a full minute before he spoke. ‘Now you’re really talking crap,’ he said. ‘Being a detective is who you are. What else are you gonna do?’

  ‘I dunno yet,’ said Slater.

  ‘Nah. You’re just saying that cos you’re pissed off. You’ll feel differently when you’ve had a few hours to think about it.’

  ‘I don’t think I will, Norm. I told you the other day I’d just about had enough, didn’t I? Well, now I have had enough.’
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  ‘When you act in haste, you repent at leisure,’ said Norman. ‘You mark my words.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe I will,’ said Slater. ‘But I don’t think so.’

  ‘So what’s gonna happen about this case?’

  ‘I’m off it,’ said Slater, ‘so I can’t do anything about it. I suppose they’re going to go for the easy option and settle for suicide. It saves having to explain why the security was so crap.’

  ‘Don’t you think that stinks?’ asked Norman.

  ‘Well, of course it bloody stinks, but what can I do about it?’

  ‘I thought Becksy wasn’t just good at what he did, I thought he was also a mate.’

  ‘He was one of the best,’ agreed Slater.

  ‘Without his help, we wouldn’t have solved half the cases we did, you know.’

  ‘Yeah, I know.’

  ‘D’you think he would have sat back and let it go, if it was one of us that had been murdered?’

  Slater sighed. Of course he knew the answer. ‘What exactly is it you think I can do, Norm?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, for a start you could pull yourself together and stop feeling sorry for yourself. Try behaving like an adult.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Well look at you,’ said Norman. ‘Sitting there, drowning your sorrows. Why don’t you admit it? What happened the other night was your fault. You should have known there was a possibility something would happen if you brought her back here. Jesus, you wanted it to happen.’

  ‘That’s a load of bollocks,’ said Slater.

  ‘Are you kidding me? Why do you think you don’t regret it? You’ve fancied the pants off each other since she arrived, but neither of you is prepared to face up to it. Now it’s happened, neither of you can deal with it.’

  ‘You’re talking crap.’

  ‘Ask anyone down at the station,’ said Norman. ‘Everyone agrees you can almost see the sparks flying when you get near each other. Why do you think you two are always arguing? It’s called sexual tension, my friend.’

  Slater was going to protest but Norman didn’t give him a chance.

  ‘And don’t tell me you don’t find her attractive.’

  ‘Have you finished?’ asked Slater. ‘She was the one who came to my room. How the hell does that make it my fault?’

  ‘Can you hear yourself?’ asked Norman. ‘You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said, and now you’re blaming her. You’re as bad as each other. I can’t tell you how to sort out this mess, but I can tell you this: if you just sit back and let them tell the world Becksy committed suicide, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.’

  Slater wanted to argue his case and tell Norman he was wrong about him and Goodnews, but the more he thought about Becks, the guiltier he felt about letting it go, and the less he cared about the situation with her.

  ‘But what can I do?’ he asked, rather helplessly. ‘I’m off the case.’

  ‘We still have all the case notes, don’t we?’ asked Norman.

  ‘Yeah, so?’

  ‘So let’s carry on our own friggin’ investigation!’ snapped Norman. ‘Look, I definitely found evidence that someone called James Radford changed his name to Jimmy Huston. I can see now I should have looked at lot deeper into it. If it’s totally wrong, it’s my cock-up, not yours.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter whose cock-up it was, Norm. As far as Goodnews is concerned, you shouldn’t have been anywhere near the case in the first place.’

  ‘But the point is, I didn’t make it up. It was right there in front of my eyes,’ said Norman. ‘I think we need to look further into it. I also think we should see if there are any other possibilities we should look at. Maybe we should talk to the other kid they bullied, you know, the dentist guy. Maybe we need to look at the gay thing. Becksy had just recently started going to a gay bar and he’d been attacked. Why not take a closer look at that? Why not take a look at every angle we can think of?’

  ‘What if they close the inquiry?’

  ‘What if they do? We’ll just continue with our own unofficial inquiry. If we can find a murderer, they won’t have any choice about reopening it, will they? We owe it to Becksy, don’t you think?’

  ‘You know what? You’re right,’ said Slater. ‘And what have I got to lose? The worst they can do is sack me, and what do I care? I’m going to quit anyway.’

  ‘Go get yourself cleaned up,’ said Norman. ‘We might as well start right now.’

  ‘Why do I need to get cleaned up?’

  ‘Because we’re going out for a drink. I hear that gay bar in town is quite popular, and I haven’t been there yet.’

  ‘Seriously?’ asked Slater.

  ‘Yeah, I know, it might be a waste of time,’ said Norman. ‘But if it is, at least we’ll know.’

  ‘Give me ten minutes, said Slater.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Dickie’s Bar was situated in a quiet street off the high street. It had been one of the numerous public houses in Tinton that had closed in the last ten years and had been empty for a good few years until Dickie Barlow had recognised the money-making potential of opening the town’s first gay bar and laying on a drag queen show every weekend. Six months on, it was a roaring success, attracting a large clientele from Tinton and the surrounding area, especially at weekends. Today was Thursday, so although it was still quite busy, it was quiet enough for people to hold a conversation without shouting.

  Slater felt vaguely out of place as he approached the doors, but Norman had no such qualms and breezed through them like he was their most regular customer.

  ‘I don’t feel right in here,’ Slater mumbled to Norman as he looked around.

  ‘Relax,’ said Norman. ‘It’s just a pub. Let me do the talking if you’re feeling nervous. Come on, let’s get a drink before people start to notice us.’

  ‘Notice us,’ echoed Slater, looking at the way everyone else was dressed. ‘They can’t miss us, we stick out like sore thumbs.’

  When he looked back, Norman had already headed off towards the bar and he had to scuttle after him.

  A neat and tidy barman wearing a wide smile, white shirt, and red bow tie came over to serve them.

  ‘Good evening, gents,’ he said. ‘My name’s Nico. What can I get you?’

  ‘Two halves of that Italian lager,’ said Norman, pointing at the nearest beer tap. ‘Quiet in here tonight, Nico,’ he said, as he watched the barman pour their drinks.

  ‘You’ve not been here before?’ asked Nico.

  ‘First time,’ said Norman.

  ‘You should come on a Friday when we’ve got a drag act on. It’s standing room only.’

  ‘Maybe we’ll give it a try.’

  ‘I’m not sure your friend would enjoy it,’ said Nico, glancing at Slater, who was still looking around. ‘He doesn’t look the sort who would enjoy being pressed up against a lot of gorgeous young boys.’

  He placed the two glasses on the bar.

  ‘In fact,’ he said, ‘if I didn’t know better I’d say he might be an officer of the law.’

  He had raised his voice, and Slater turned back to them suddenly.

  Norman smiled. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘He’s not very good at this. That’s why he doesn’t work Vice very often.’

  The barman’s face fell.

  ‘No, wait,’ said Norman. ‘This isn’t a raid or anything like that. We’re not interested in what goes on in here. We need your help with something.’

  Nico was looking doubtful. ‘What sort of something?’ he asked.

  ‘A friend of ours has been murdered,’ said Norman. ‘He used to work at Tinton Police Station. They’re trying to say he committed suicide, but we don’t believe he did. We’re trying to prove we’re right.’

  ‘What makes you think I can help?’

  Norman slipped a photo of Ian Becks in front of the barman. ‘He was gay, and we believe he had been coming here. This is one of several angles we’re working on. We’re just
trying to find out if he did come here, and if there’s anyone here who can help us learn a bit more about this side of his life.’

  Nico looked at the photo and then looked back up at Norman. ‘Don’t I need to see a badge or something?’ he asked.

  Slater took his warrant card from his pocket and allowed Nico to see it.

  ‘What about you?’ Nico asked Norman. ‘Where’s your badge?’

  ‘I’m retired,’ said Norman. ‘I’m doing this because this guy was a good friend of ours.’

  ‘He’s for real,’ said Slater. ‘He used to be my partner until a few months ago.’

  This seemed to be good enough for Nico. ‘Yeah, I think I know him,’ he said, ‘although he hasn’t been in here recently. I think he said his name was Ian, or something like that. You say he’s dead? How the hell did that happen?’

  ‘I can’t tell you that,’ said Slater. ‘But trust me, it definitely wasn’t suicide. Whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing.’

  Nico was beginning to look worried.

  ‘D’you know something?’ asked Norman. ‘Only your face says you do.’

  ‘I don’t know if it means anything, but a couple of the guys have been attacked by some idiot using a cricket bat or something like that.’

  ‘Was this guy one of those who were attacked?’ asked Norman.

  ‘Yes, I believe he was.’

  ‘Why didn’t anyone report it to the police?’

  Nico looked down his nose at Norman. ‘Oh, come on,’ he said. ‘Why do you think?’

  Norman knew what Nico meant, but not for the first time, he thought this just went to prove prejudice was a two-way thing.

  ‘How can you blame them for not helping if you don’t tell them you have a problem?’

  Nico looked as if he might want to pursue the argument, but Slater wasn’t going to go down that road.

  ‘Look,’ he said. ‘We’re up against a deadline here. We’re trying to stop someone from getting away with murder. Did Ian have any friends in here?’

  ‘I think he had a boyfriend,’ said Nico. ‘I saw them together a few times.’

  ‘What’s this boyfriend’s name?’ asked Norman.

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t think I ever actually spoke to him.’