by P. F. Ford
Slater shifted uncomfortably under Woody's gaze. What Woody was saying wasn't exactly correct, but he could see why he would think it was.
"Aren't you supposed to examine all the evidence and work out who did it?" continued Woods. "So what's gone wrong? Is this some new form of short-cut justice? Because from where I'm sitting it looks like you guys have already made your minds up about who murdered my wife."
Now Slater felt seriously uncomfortable and he sensed Norman shift awkwardly next to him. Woods had just accused them of doing the very same thing they had accused Laura Pettit and Amanda Hollis of doing!
"Now wait a minute, Woody," he said. "We're not accusing you of anything-"
"Yes you bloody well are," interrupted Woody. "All you've done since you came into the room is suggest I killed her. Perhaps you should remember I'm the husband who's just found out his wife's been murdered. Just because you don't understand why we were living apart, that doesn't automatically mean I killed her."
Slater thought he couldn't argue with that, but before he could say anything Norman spoke.
"With respect," he said. "You'd be surprised how often it's the husband who's guilty. I would also point out that this is your opportunity to tell us your side of the story, and so far you've been pretty vague about your movements yesterday. I can promise you we will be checking CCTV recordings to see if we can verify what you've told us so far. You need to think about that."
"And here's something you need to think about, Detective Sergeant Norman. I did not kill my wife, and it doesn't matter if you keep me here for the next ten years, I am not going to confess, because I haven't done anything wrong. Now, unless I'm very much mistaken, I believe I'm entitled to refuse to answer any more questions. Am I right?"
"You're not under arrest Mr Woods-" began Slater.
"Which means I could just walk out, right now," interrupted Woods. "I know that, but I'm damned if I'm going to do that and give you lot further reason to suspect me. I'm prepared to stay here as long as it takes. But just so you understand, I'm not saying another word until I've made a phone call and spoken to a solicitor."
"There's no need for that-"
"I disagree," said Woods.
Norman stared at Woods. This wasn't quite the outcome he'd been hoping for, but he couldn't deny the man his right to a solicitor if he insisted.
"Okay," he said, reluctantly. "While we get that arranged, let's take a break for a couple of hours. Are you sure you want to stay here?"
"Absolutely," insisted Woods.
"What did you make of that?" Norman asked Slater, after they'd left Woods with the Duty Sergeant to make his phone call.
"If you mean ‘how did we do?’" said Slater. "I think we made a complete balls up."
"Well, yeah. I can't argue with that," said Norman. "I think that was mostly down to me. I messed up good and proper, but that's not really what I meant."
"Well, he's very definite about what he says he didn't do," said Slater.
"He's also very vague about what he says he did do," Norman pointed out. "I mean, with the gaps in his story, he had plenty of time to call on Diana after he left Southampton."
"There's no denying that," agreed Slater. "But there's a big difference between having the time to do it and actually doing it."
"Are you telling me you believe him?" asked Norman.
"Let's put it this way," replied Slater. "I don't think he's actually lying, but I also don't think he's telling us everything."
"So, what's he hiding?" asked Norman.
"That's what we need to find out," said Slater.
"Do you have a plan?" asked Norman.
"We've got some time to kill now," explained Slater. "So why don't we use that time to go and see this Jim Brennan guy and see if he can confirm this stuff about a courier job. In the meantime, we could get Jolly Jane to take Woody his cup of tea and sit with him for a while. Maybe she'll be able to strike up a conversation and learn something that might help us."
He looked at Norman.
"So that's my plan. What do you think?"
"I think I don't have anything better," said Norman. "So let's do it."
Fifteen minutes later Jane Jolly knocked on the door of the interview room and pushed the door open. She carried a tray with two cups of tea and a plate of biscuits which she placed on the table between her and Ian Woods.
"I've brought you some tea," she smiled. "Mind if I join you? It's my tea break and there's no-one around upstairs."
Chapter Four
"We're looking for Jim Brennan," said Slater.
"Who's we?" asked the man sat behind the desk in front of them.
"DS Slater," said Slater, producing his warrant card.
"And DS Norman," said Norman, showing his own card.
"In that case, you've found him," admitted Brennan. "What can I do for you?"
"D'you know a guy called Ian Woods?" asked Slater.
"Woody? Yeah, I know him," said Brennan. "Why? What's he done?"
"No-one's saying he's done anything," said Slater. "We just need to know if he was working for you yesterday."
"That's right," said Brennan. "He used to work for me full time, until he moved to Wales. He was one of my best drivers so when I got this job to pick up from Swansea I thought I'd ask him if he was free."
"How did you get hold of him?" asked Norman. "Only he says he's got no phone signal at home."
"We have a system, you see," said Brennan. "We've done it a couple of times before. I send him a text, and then he calls me back when he gets it. It's no good for a job that needs doing right now, but this one was arranged a few days in advance."
"So what job did he do for you?" asked Slater.
"Pick up in Swansea at ten in the morning and deliver to Southampton," said Brennan. "It was nothing complicated but using a guy based in Wales saved a lot of time, and I know I can rely on Woody."
"What time did he get to Southampton?" asked Norman.
"Hang on a minute and I'll tell you exactly," said Brennan.
There was a large desk diary in front of him. He turned back a couple of pages and ran his finger down the page.
"Here we go," he said. "He called in, job done, at two-twenty."
"Just over four hours," observed Norman.
"Yeah, that's about what I would have expected," said Brennan. "Like I said, I know I can rely on Woody."
"What happened after that?" asked Norman. "Did you have another job for him?"
"I was hoping he might call in here and say hello," said Brennan. "But he never did. When we arranged the Swansea job, he told me he had a load of records and CDs to collect from Diana, that wife of his. Apparently he left them behind when he walked out. She was threatening to chuck them out if he didn't collect them. He said he was going to call in at her place on his way home from Swansea, but I've no idea whether he did or not."
Slater and Norman exchanged an involuntary look, which Brennan noticed.
"What?" he said. "What did I say?"
"You don't know do you?" asked Slater, but he didn't wait for Brennan to reply. "Diana Woods was murdered at around five-thirty yesterday afternoon."
Brennan's expression told them no, he hadn't known about Diana's death.
"Oh my God! Really?" he said. "But, what's that got to do with Woody? Surely you can't think he would had anything to do with that. He might have left her, but he still cared for her. There's no way he would ever hurt her. No, I'm sorry, if you think it was him you've got it all wrong, that's for sure."
"But you just told us he said he was going round there," said Norman. "What if he went round there, they argued, and he lost his temper?"
"What Woody? Nah. No way. With the way she behaves, if he was going to kill her he'd have done it a long time ago, but he's never so much as raised a finger to her."
"I'm not with you," said Slater. "What do you mean 'if he was going to kill her, he would have done it a long time ago'?"
"And what does 'wit
h the way she behaves' mean?" asked Norman.
"You mean Woody hasn't told you what she's like?" asked Brennan.
He looked at their puzzled faces.
"No. I can see he hasn't," said Brennan. "But I don't think it's my place to tell you. I suggest you ask him why he left her."
"You could tell us now," said Norman. "It would save us all a lot of time."
"I'm sure it would," said Brennan. "But I think you should hear it from him. I will tell you this much, though, if she was my wife I would have booted her out years ago."
The two detectives exchanged a look, and then looked quizzically at Brennan.
"I'm not big on second chances, see," he explained. "One betrayal would have been more than enough for me."
"You mean she-" began Norman.
"Like I said," interrupted Brennan. "I think you should hear it from Woody."
They decided to return to Tinton police station via Bishops Common. The crime scene was cordoned off with one solitary officer occupying a car parked on the drive, supposedly guarding the site. He climbed hastily from his car when Slater and Norman pulled up in the lane.
"I was just having a tea break," he explained, sheepishly.
"Relax, son," said Norman. "We haven't come to check up on you. Just make sure you don't get too comfortable and fall asleep in that car."
"Yessir," replied the red-faced PC. "I'll try not to do that."
"Do you have a key?" asked Slater.
The young man dug in his pocket, finally producing a key with a huge label attached. He handed it to Slater who marched up to the door and slid the key firmly into the lock and turned. The door swung open and Norman followed him carefully inside.
They found the box on the dining room table. It was crammed with old vinyl albums and CDs.
"There's some good stuff in here," observed Norman, flicking through the albums. "Old stuff, too. Whatever this guy might, or might not, have done, he has pretty good taste in music."
"I'm sure he'll be gratified to know you think that," said Slater, looking over Norman's shoulder. "But I suppose this proves he didn't collect them yesterday."
"It doesn't prove he didn't come here, though," said Norman. "It just suggests, if he did come here, he left in a hurry and forgot to take this box with him."
"Yeah, maybe," Slater admitted, grudgingly.
"Let's go and ask him," said Norman.
As they left the house, Norman's mobile phone began to ring. He fished the phone from his pocket and looked at the incoming number. He wondered how the hell had they got this number?
"Shit!" he hissed, quietly.
"You okay, Norm?" asked Slater.
"I just need to deal with this," said Norman.
"Okay," said Slater. "You carry on. I'll lock up and return the key."
Norman walked off towards their car, keeping his back to Slater and his head down, almost conspiratorially, as he answered the call.
Slater kept his distance as Norman spoke into the phone, waiting until he had dismissed the call and put the phone back in his jacket pocket. When he turned to face Slater, Norman did not look a happy bunny.
"Norm," insisted Slater. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah. I'm fine. Really," replied Norman, but Slater was unconvinced.
When they got back, Woody was in conference with his solicitor so they agreed to give them some time to talk. In the meantime they sought out Jane Jolly. Maybe she had managed to glean some information from Woody while they were out.
"So what did he have to say for himself?" Slater asked her.
"Nothing earth shattering, I'm afraid," she said. "But enough to convince me he's not your man."
"You sound very sure of that, Jane," said Norman. "How come?"
"I just get the impression he still loves her," she said. "He didn't leave her because he wanted to, he left because he had to. I think he adored her, but she didn't care too much for him."
"So why did he stick around so long?" asked Slater.
"Because when they got married they adored each other," she said. "I think he was hoping if he waited long enough she would see what was happening and they could get back to where they were in the beginning. But he couldn't wait forever."
"Does that sound likely to you?" Slater asked Norman.
"As it happens, yes," said Norman. "I can relate to that sort of hopeless feeling."
Slater didn't labour the point. He knew this was a touchy subject for his colleague. Norman had been happily married for many years until he was wrongly pushed into exile in Northumberland. His wife, a lifelong Londoner, wouldn't leave her family to go with him and, as a result, their marriage had subsequently crumbled. Even today, over four years on, Norman still hoped they might one day get back together. It was a forlorn hope, but he hadn't yet got to the stage where he could admit it and move on.
"Come on, Norm," said Slater. "Let's go and see what Woody has to say about that box of records."
Ian Woods' solicitor was called Simon Strong. He looked as if the name was likely to be a good fit. He made it quite clear from the start that his client was here on a voluntary basis and if, at any point, he was unhappy with the way things were going he would insist on leaving. Slater and Norman knew this meant he felt they had no hard evidence to arrest Woody and he intended to test his theory if they stepped out of line.
"Okay, Woody," began Norman, once they were all settled at the table. "You'll be pleased to know Mr Brennan confirmed your story about working for him yesterday. He says you called in at two-twenty to say you'd finished."
"That's what I told you," insisted Woods.
"I know," conceded Norman. "But you understand why we have to check these things. We're just doing our job, right?"
Woody nodded. Yes, he understood.
"So tell me again, what did you do after you finished?" asked Norman.
"I went for a coffee, filled up with diesel and then drove slowly homeward," sighed Woods. "I've already told you all this."
"But Jim Brennan thinks you might have gone somewhere else before you went home," said Norman.
Woods' mouth dropped open and the colour drained from his face. He gulped a couple of times.
"What's he been saying?" he asked, guiltily.
"He's says you told him Diana had more or less ordered you to come and collect your vinyl records and CDs, or she was going to dump them. According to Jim Brennan, when he told you about the job he wanted you to do for him, you said you were going to call in to Diana's on the way back and pick them up."
Slater was studying Woody's face. When Norman had told him Brennan said he might have gone somewhere else, he had looked terrified and filled with guilt. Now Norman had told him Brennan had suggested he might have gone to Diana's, almost placing him at the murder scene in the process, he actually looked relieved! This didn't make any sense.
"Yeah, well," confessed Woods. "The day before, when I was two hundred miles away and just thinking about it, collecting my old records had seemed like a good idea. I even drove all the way up here from Southampton, but when I got on to the Tinton bypass, and started to get really close, I chickened out. The chances are she would have just screamed her head off at me again, and for what? A few vinyl records and a handful of CDs? I don't need that sort of hassle. I can always buy them again. So I just kept on going and headed for home."
Norman said nothing, just sat back in his chair and studied Woods. Slater was still trying to understand why Woods would look so relieved to be placed at the murder scene.
"Why would she scream at you?" Norman asked, finally. "You would have been doing what she asked. What would she have had to complain about?"
"You don't know Diana," said Woods. "It didn't matter what I did. It was always wrong. You can only take so much of that and then you have to get away, or..." Woods decided to stop talking.
"Or what, Woody?" asked Norman. "You have to get away, or you'd have killed her?"
"Do I need to remind you, Sergeant,
" interrupted Strong. "My client is here on a voluntary basis to help with your enquiries. I don't think your suggestions are being very helpful, do you? Mr Woods has answered your question, and explained why he didn't go to the house. Now, if you have some other questions, we will be happy to help, otherwise I think we may be done here."
"Who owns Diana's house, Woody?" asked Slater. "Is it in joint names?"
"Yes," said Woods. "We hadn't got as far as dividing things financially, yet."
"Do you have a front door key?"
"I had one," smiled Woods, ruefully. "But she changed the bloody locks after I left."
"Why would she do that?" asked Norman.
"To stop me getting in, of course," said Woods.
"But it's your house, too," said Slater.
"But I chose to leave, didn't I?" said Woods. "She seemed to think that meant it was all hers. Like I said, we hadn't got around to sorting out the financial stuff yet."
"So you actually gain from her death," suggested Norman. "Instead of half a house you now have a whole house."
"So there's another motive, right?" said Woods. "I'm sure if you sit there long enough you might be able to come up with one or two more. Why don't you just charge me if you want to?"
"I warned you, Sergeant," said Simon Strong, standing up and gathering his things together. "We're out of here, now. Come on, Ian."
Woods looked uncertainly at Strong, and then began to climb to his feet.
"If you wish to speak to my client again," said Strong, addressing Slater and Norman. "You will contact him through me. Is that clear?"
"I suppose that went about as well as could be expected," said Norman, once Simon Strong had led his client from the room.
"You think?" asked Slater. "If you don't mind me saying, you seem to be as convinced he's guilty as those two harpies out at Bishops Common."
"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way," said Norman, the irritation clear in his voice. "But right now, everything we know seems to indicate he has motive, he had the means and he had the opportunity. On top of that he admits he was in the area that afternoon and he's unable to explain why it took him so long to get home that day. I think that gives me good reason to think he's involved in her death."
