by P. F. Ford
"Where's the book that goes with these CCTV CDs?" asked Slater.
"It should be in that drawer," she said.
"Yes. I know it should be in the drawer," said Slater. "But it's not, so where is it?"
"Perhaps Millie has it," she suggested.
"Millie says it was in the drawer last time she saw it, yesterday morning," said Norman.
"Well, someone else must have it then," she said.
"Millie says only you and her use the book or even know what it's for," insisted Norman..
"What?" she said. "You think I've got it? Why would I want it?"
"Why would Millie want it?" asked Slater.
"I don't know," she said, her patience wearing thin yet again. "Why don't you ask her?"
"We have," said Norman. "She doesn't have it, and she doesn't know where it is."
"Well, I'm afraid I don't know where it is, either," she insisted.
"Perhaps we need to search everywhere, after all," suggested Slater.
"You'll need another search warrant," she said, with an icy smile. "This one is very specific about where you can look."
Slater couldn't argue with that. She was right. It had been a mistake to make it so specific, but they'd had to compromise. It was the only way they could get the search warrant granted late last night.
"We'll take these CDs anyway," said Slater. "I'm sure we'll be able to find what we're looking for."
"We're going up to Rossiter's office now," said Norman. "If you want to come and watch what we're doing, you're more than welcome."
"Mr Rossiter is going to be very upset when he comes in and finds out what you're doing," she warned them. "You're going to spoil his day."
"We've already spoilt Mr Rossiter's day," smiled Norman. "He probably should be phoning in to say he won't be in for work today, but he's only got the one phone call at his disposal, and I'm pretty sure you won't be the first person he wants to call."
"What do you mean?" she asked in surprise.
"Let's just say he's helping us with our enquiries," smiled Norman. "If you see what I mean."
He winked at her as he followed Slater from the room and headed for Rossiter's office.
"Any problems, Jane?" asked Slater as they approached Rossiter's office.
"Well, I'm not very popular with those people I've had to turn away from their office," she smiled. "But there's been nothing I couldn't handle."
She stepped aside as Slater and Norman entered the office, and then followed them inside.
"So what are we looking for?" she asked them.
"Right," said Slater, pointing to the two desks closest to the door. "It's just these two desks. This one here was Diana's, and that one over there is Rossiter's. We're looking for anything that might prove they were in a relationship, and anything that might suggest they had fallen out."
"That's a bit vague, isn't it?" she commented.
"You start on Diana's desk," he said. "You might not find anything because Rossiter has already been through it, but you never know, he might have missed something. Me and Norm will take his desk. It's twice as big, and we think we're more likely to find something in there."
They quickly got to work at their respective tasks. It soon became clear to Jolly that she was probably wasting her time. There was not much of anything in any of the drawers that she could see. That just left the small cupboard off to the side, but again there was nothing.
Meanwhile Slater and Norman were having a bit more luck.
"Wow!" muttered Norman. "Look at this."
He produced an expensive looking carrier bag from one of the drawers.
"Drawers within drawers," he said, as he produced a set of fancy underwear from within the bag and held them up. "Do you think these are for him, or for her?"
"They'd have to stretch a hell of a long way to go around his arse," grinned Slater.
He leaned across for a closer look.
"They're made by the same people who made the underwear she was wearing when they found her body," he observed.
"How come you know so much about ladies underwear?" asked Jolly.
"You should see what he's wearing under that suit," suggested Norman.
"I recognise the label," said Slater. "It's not exactly run of the mill stuff, is it?"
"Let's have a look," asked Jolly, stepping closer so she could see.
"That's expensive stuff," she said, admiringly. "I certainly can't afford anything like that on my wages."
"So it's not the sort of stuff your average girl wears?" asked Slater.
"Not if she's on an average salary," Jolly assured him.
"But, as a gift?" asked Slater.
"A girl would be very happy," said Jolly.
"So now I know what to buy you for Christmas," said Norman, with a wink.
"I wouldn't waste your money," said Jolly. "Because it couldn't possibly make me THAT happy."
"Well, well, well," said Slater reaching into another drawer. "What did Millie say? A blue book, A5 size."
He lifted something from the drawer and placed it on the desk.
It was a blue book, A5 size.
"If that's the right book," said Norman. "Then it looks like all roads point to Rossiter."
Slater opened the book and glanced at the first page. There was a list of dates and letters.
"This must be it," he said. "It's exactly as Millie described it. Dates and letters. Dead simple."
As he thumbed through the pages the dates got closer and closer.
"Oh bugger," he said. "Would you believe it? The last page has been torn out."
"So, how much more incriminating do we need it to be?" suggested Norman.
"I thought this bloke was supposed to be clever," observed Jolly. "First you find her mobile phone at his house, and now you find this book in his desk. That doesn't seem very clever to me."
"He's arrogant," said Norman. "Arrogance makes people think they're much more clever than anyone else. He certainly thinks he's too smart for us, but that's been his undoing. He thought we were too stupid to find anything."
“You call it arrogance if you want," said Jolly. "But I think it's just plain bloody stupid.”
Chapter Nineteen
"Before we start I would like to stress, for the record, that my client has repeatedly denied having any involvement in the murder of Diana Woods. Your continual refusal to accept this fact, and your behaviour this morning, amounts to persecution of an innocent man. I hereby inform you of my intent to pursue a claim for wrongful arrest and harassment."
Brian Humphreys looked rather pleased with his performance as he sat down alongside his even more smug-looking client. He hadn't been keen to start threatening the police, but Bruce Rossiter had insisted it was the right thing to do, and had even written down, word for word, exactly what he should say. Okay, maybe Rossiter had given him the confidence to make his little speech, but even so, he was the one who had delivered it, and he thought he'd done it rather well.
Norman shook his head slowly from side to side and went back to studying the notes in front of him.
"Thank you, Mr Humphreys," said Slater, smiling broadly. "Your intent is duly noted. Am I right in my belief that criminal law is not your particular area of expertise?"
"Can't be," said Norman, without looking up from his notes. He said it just loud enough for Humphreys to hear.
The smug look on Rossiter's face faltered for barely a second, but Humphreys wasn't so good at hiding his feelings, and it was obvious he had no idea what Slater was suggesting, and now all his misgivings came rushing back to haunt him.
He had known from the start he was out of his depth, but Rossiter had insisted he had no choice but to stick around and, of course, Rossiter was right. There was no choice. His client knew enough about Humphreys to blow his career out of the water any time he felt inclined to do so.
Slater stared impassively at Humphreys and gave him a few seconds to reply, but this just served to make the unfortuna
te solicitor even more uncomfortable.
"The reason we've invited your client here this morning-," he began.
"I wasn't invited, I was bloody well dragged here," snorted Rossiter.
"It's a question of perception I suppose," observed Norman, looking up from his notes. "But I didn't see anyone place a hand on you until you made a move to attack DS Slater."
He looked back at his notes. Rossiter glared at the top of Norman's head, but didn't comment further. Humphreys looked suitably alarmed. No-one had told him anything about his client attacking a police officer!
"We just have a few discrepancies we need Mr Rossiter to clarify for us," continued Slater. "Once that's done to our satisfaction he'll be free to go. I think that's fair enough, don't you?"
"What discrepancies?" snarled Rossiter.
"We'll go through them one at a time," smiled Slater. "How about we start with the time you claim to have reached home on the day Diana was killed. You say you were home by five-forty-five."
"I said it because that's what time I got there," said Rossiter.
"But your wife says you didn't get home until after seven," said Norman.
"Well, she's mistaken," said Rossiter.
"She's quite sure it was after seven," said Norman. "She even told us dinner was nearly ruined because you were late."
"She must be thinking of another night," insisted Rossiter. "We had dinner at around six o'clock. It wasn't ruined at all."
"So why does your wife say different?" asked Slater.
"Like I said, she must be mistaken," sighed Rossiter, wearily.
"But she insists she's not mistaken," said Norman.
"Well, she must be lying than," snapped Rossiter. "I assure you I was home by five-forty-five."
"Why would your wife be lying?" persisted Slater.
"I don't know," replied Rossiter, angrily. "Why don't you ask her?"
"We don't think you were home as early as you claim," said Slater.
"So where do you think I was?" asked Rossiter.
"We'll come to that shortly," said Slater.
"How did you come to have Diana Woods' mobile phone in your bedside drawer, Mr Rossiter?" asked Norman.
"What?" Rossiter sounded genuinely horrified. "I don't know what you're talking about!"
"Well, let me spell it out, as I'm the one who found it," said Norman. "You have a bedside cabinet next to your bed, yes?"
"Yes, that's right," said Rossiter. "Doesn't everyone?"
"Well, I searched it when we were there this morning," said Norman. "Second drawer down, tucked right at the back, under your socks, I found a mobile phone. Closer inspection showed it belonged to Diana Woods."
Rossiter looked bewildered. He turned to Humphreys.
"I don't understand this, Brian," he said, shakily. "I don't understand what's going on."
"We've been looking for that phone, since Diana's body was found," said Slater. "Perhaps you can explain to us how it came to be in your possession."
Rossiter's earlier smugness and bravado had completely evaporated now. For the first time in a long time, he was no longer in control of events and he had no idea what to do. Humphreys had gone a strange colour, too. He was always reluctant to get involved in sorting out any mess Rossiter created, but normally it was like cleaning up after a spoilt brat. This time it was beginning to look as if the spoilt brat had gone way too far. The salary he was being paid didn't cover anything like this.
"So how did the phone come to be in your drawer, Mr Rossiter?" asked Slater, again.
"I have no idea how it got there," he said, quietly.
"Is that the best you can do?" asked Norman.
"It's the truth," insisted Rossiter. "I can't tell you any more than that, can I?"
"I have to say, it's not looking too good for you, is it?" commented Norman.
"Why are you doing this to me?" asked Rossiter.
"Doing what?" asked Norman.
"Setting me up."
"We're just doing our job," said Norman. "We don't need to set you up. The evidence is all pointing at you already."
"But I haven't done anything. Why won't you believe me?" pleaded Rossiter.
"Like DS Norman just explained," said Slater. "The evidence is all pointing your way."
"And if we believed everyone who claimed to be innocent, we'd never catch anyone," added Norman.
"What can I do, Brian?" asked Rossiter, turning to Humphreys. "They won't listen to what I'm telling them."
"I think you should probably keep quiet and not answer any more questions," advised Humphreys.
"That's not really gonna help him get out of here, is it?" said Norman. "Because so far he hasn't managed to explain anything satisfactorily."
"Do you ever use the Rochester & Dorset runabout vehicle, Mr Rossiter?" asked Slater.
"What?" asked Rossiter.
"Small, white, Peugeot van," said Slater. "Company runabout. I understand you all use it."
"Well, yes, I've done a bit of shopping in it now and then," said Rossiter.
"Have you ever used it to visit Diana Woods at her house?" asked Slater.
"No, I don't think I have," said Rossiter.
"Are you sure about that?" asked Norman. "Only we have a witness who claims to have seen someone, matching your description, visiting Diana, in a small white van."
"Well she's got the wrong man," said Rossiter.
"She's seen you lunchtimes," explained Norman. "She knows your routine. Diana arrives in her car, and then you arrive in the van a couple of minutes later. You stay for an hour or so, you leave, then five minutes later she leaves. Does that sound about right?"
Rossiter's mouth gaped open.
"Looks as if it's exactly right," remarked Slater.
"I, err," murmured Rossiter.
"If you're not going to follow my advice and keep quiet," sighed Humphreys, quietly. "You should at least stop lying and tell the truth. That sounds about right to me."
"How the bloody hell would you know?" snapped Rossiter, turning on Humphreys.
"Everyone at Rochesters knows," said Humphreys wearily. "You and Diana might have thought you were being clever, but it was obvious to all of us what was going on. And then someone followed you, just to confirm it."
"You're supposed to be my bloody solicitor advising me here," snarled Rossiter, "Not a bloody witness for the prosecution."
"I am advising you," said Humphreys, testily. "I advised you not to answer any more questions and you ignored me. As that's the case, I'm now advising you to stop being evasive and to start telling the truth."
Slater watched happily as Rossiter and Humphreys argued about the rights and wrongs of telling the truth. He looked at Norman and raised his eyebrows. Norman smiled back at him. This was going very well so far.
"I hate to interrupt your little argument," said Norman, affably. "But you ought to know we have that company runabout in our garage downstairs. We have a forensic team going over it as we speak. If there's anything to find, they will find it."
Rossiter looked blankly at Norman.
"Am I supposed to be concerned about that?" he asked.
"You tell me," replied Norman.
"I can't see why it should worry me," said Rossiter. "I admit I have used it on occasion to visit Diana, but the last time I used that van was weeks ago."
"Perhaps if I tell you we have a witness who saw that van driving away from Diana Woods' house, around about the time of the murder, you might be a bit more concerned," said Slater.
"If someone did see that van," said Rossiter. "It can't have been me driving it. I was at home having my dinner."
"Except your wife says you weren't," smiled Norman.
"And I say she's wrong," said Rossiter. "Let me talk to her. I'll soon prove she's thinking of another night when I was late."
"I don't think that's going to be possible," said Norman. "She says she doesn't want to talk to you at the moment."
"But she's my wife," said Ro
ssiter. "Why wouldn't she want to talk to me?"
"Maybe she's a bit concerned about what you've done," suggested Norman.
"But I keep telling you. I haven't done anything!" He shouted the last sentence and banged his fist on the table to emphasise his point.
"You have a bit of a temper there Mr Rossiter," said Slater. "Is that what happened? Did you argue with Diana and lose your temper?"
"I've told you I didn't see Diana that day," he said, wearily. "How many more times do I have to tell you."
"We should be getting some forensic results through soon," said Norman. "Do you want to save us all some time, and tell us what happened?"
"I have nothing to say," said Rossiter.
"Hooray," said Humphreys, sarcastically. "You've finally decided to listen to me, although it's probably too late now."
"Let me tell you what we think happened," said Slater. "We know you and Diana had a thing going. You were a couple of rabbits, going at it whenever you got the chance. On business trips, during your lunch breaks, and you even resorted to groping and touching each other up in the office."
Rossiter actually looked embarrassed at the mention of the office groping.
"Oh," said Norman. "Did you really think no-one could see what you were up to? Someone described frequently seeing you slide your hand up her skirt when she was stood at your desk. Your behaviour was described as 'gross'. I guess you were just checking to make sure she was wearing that expensive underwear you bought her. Like the feel of silk, do you?"
"Then one day, just a few short months ago," Slater continued. "You pushed your luck a bit too far and Woody came home and caught you at it. This wasn't the first time Diana had been cheating on him, and she figured he wouldn't do anything even if he did find out, but she was wrong. This time he decided enough was enough. He packed his bags and walked out."
"But there was a problem for Diana," continued Norman. "She hadn't realised just how much she needed him. Oh, she despised him for letting her screw around all the time, but at the same time he was always there for her. He was her rock. But once he was gone, she suddenly realised what she was missing. So she tried to win him back. She even begged him to come back, but he was resolute. This time there was no going back."
