Just A Coincidence & Florence (Dave Slater Mystery Doubles Book 1)

by Ford,P. F.

  “Let me talk to him,” said Norman. “I’ll explain how it really works, and how if he doesn’t back down his client is going to be charged with murder. That should help to clarify the situation for him.”

  “It began about two years ago,” said Rodgers, when they finally got started. He seemed calmer now, and Biddeford eagerly awaited his every word. “I was approached to collect some stuff from France. I wasn’t looking for anyone else to work for, but I had a job to do for Bressler and I thought I could do the two together. I was going anyway, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to get paid twice. It never occurred to me that I was walking into a trap. I was greedy, and I’ve paid for it ever since.

  “The thing is, I didn’t realise they had people with cameras all over the place. I was photographed in France, handing over an envelope and collecting a package. I didn’t know I was doing a deal with a well-known drug-dealer, until they showed me the photos. The next thing I know, I’m being told if I don’t fly for them they would send the photos to my boss, and to the police.

  “Then a few weeks later they showed me a photo of a dead body, and told me if I didn’t fly at night that was how I would end up.”

  “So they frightened you into carrying drugs for them?” asked Biddeford.

  “And cigarettes,” said Rodgers. “And anything else small enough to fit into my airplane. I’ve even brought passengers over on two or three occasions.”

  “What sort of passengers?”

  “Men. The sort of characters you wouldn’t want to meet on a dark night.”

  “You mean illegal immigrants?”

  “Gangsters, more like,” said Rodgers.

  “What nationality?”

  “I don’t know,” said Rodgers. “I was always told not to speak to any of them, and none of them ever said anything to me. There was one girl, but mostly it was men.”

  “Okay, Rod. You’re doing well here, mate,” encouraged Biddeford. “This is all very important, and we will come back to it later, but earlier you mentioned you knew what had happened to the girl we found in the field. Can you tell us about that?”

  Rodgers took a long gulp of water. Biddeford sensed they were getting to the real crux of the matter now.

  “She came to see me at work,” he began. “There was no warning; she just suddenly turned up one day. She told me she knew I was the father of Rose Bressler, and she wanted to know if I had killed Sandra and Rose.

  “I hadn’t thought about Sandra for years. I didn’t even know she was dead. I genuinely believed she’d run away and taken Rose with her. And now, 15 years later, here I was being accused of murdering them.”

  “So what did you do?” asked Biddeford.

  “I told her it wasn’t true, of course,” said Rodgers. “I told her to go away and leave me alone.”

  “And did she?”

  “I thought she had,” said Rodgers. “But I was wrong. She started following me. That’s how she came to be up at the airfield that night. She followed me up there, only she chose the wrong night.

  “Normally I go on my own, but every now and then the boss flies with me. I think she comes along just to make sure I’m still scared enough to keep quiet.”

  “She?” said Ashton, sounding surprised. “Did you say ‘she’?”

  “Yeah, she.” Rodgers nodded. “She’s not the big boss behind it all, but she’s the boss at this end, that’s for sure. She’s a nasty piece of work. I’m sure she’d kill me as soon as look at me.”

  “So what happened to Sarah, that night?” Biddeford was desperate to know.

  “She was creeping about up at the airfield while I was getting the plane ready to fly. But she didn’t know that this girl boss was also creeping about. The watcher was being watched. The first thing I knew about it was when I was called by the boss. I went over to where she was, and there was Sarah, lying unconscious on the ground. The next thing I knew there was a gun pointing at me and I’m told to carry the girl and put her in the airplane.

  “I honestly thought we were going to fly her over to France and leave her there, or something, but once we got airborne she just pushed the poor girl out. We were at about 400 feet. She would have had no chance. It was horrible.”

  Once again, Rodgers became a sobbing mess as he relived the events of that night.

  “I think we’d better take another 20-minute break now,” said Biddeford, sympathetically. “We’ll talk some more about this gang and the girl boss when we resume.”

  “Yes, thank you.” Rodgers looked grateful underneath the tears streaming down his face.

  Slater watched from behind the one-way mirror, fascinated.

  “What do you make of that?” Norman asked.

  “We need to know a lot more about this gang, and especially the girl he says pushed Sarah from the plane,” said Slater. “But if it’s true, it clears Bressler and Lindy from any involvement.”

  “Yeah. I agree,” said Norman. “Let’s proceed with them in the frame for Sandra and Rose. If Rodgers turns out to be telling us a load of bullshit we can always backtrack.”

  “Do you think he is bullshitting?” asked Slater.

  “No, I don’t,” said Norman. “Like you say, we need to know more about the gang and the girl, but it all sounds weirdly plausible to me. These gangs do trap people into working for them, and then use fear to keep them quiet. I’ve seen it before.”

  “Let’s get Steve to concentrate on learning more about the gang,” said Slater. “Meanwhile I think we need to charge Lindy and have another go at Bressler.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  “What do you mean you’re charging me with murder?” Lindy Fellows looked utterly incredulous. “You’ve got no proof I was even there.”

  “We can prove you arranged for a taxi to pick you and your niece up from the Bressler’s home on the day Sandra supposedly ran away,” Norman said, smiling.

  “Absolute rubbish,” sneered Lindy. “I was nowhere near the place.”

  “Your niece confirms you were there with her. You booked a taxi, went to Gatwick with a load of luggage, changed your clothes, and then got another taxi home.”

  “She’s lying,” said Lindy, sounding uncertain for the first time. “That’s just some sort of childhood fantasy. I bet you suggested it to her.”

  “It’s actually a vivid recollection,” said Slater. “She was so disappointed not to be flying away, like you promised, that she’s never forgiven you for it. Kids remember things like that, as if it happened yesterday. She didn’t need any prompting.”

  “It was all his idea,” she yelled. “He told us to get the taxi.”

  “That would be Mr Bressler?” asked Norman.

  “Yes. He told us what to do.”

  “Your niece says she’s never met Mr Bressler,” said Slater. “So how did he manage to tell her what to do.

  “Me,” she said. “He told me. It was after Sandra had run away-”

  “Oh, she ran away,” said Slater. “Didn’t you tell us earlier that Bressler had chopped them up with an axe?”

  She barely faltered at his words, seemingly not hearing them, or perhaps just choosing to ignore them

  “Don’t forget he was obsessed with her,” she continued. “He wanted me to re-enact the runaway so he could achieve some sort of closure. He said if I did it I could move in and take her place.”

  “If you don’t mind me saying,” Slater said, smiling at her, “this is all beginning to sound a bit desperate now, don’t you think? First Sandra was murdered and then she ran away. Now your niece is lying, or it’s a childhood fantasy, then it’s our fault, and now it’s Rudy’s fault. I think it’s actually all your fault.”

  “It was always me he wanted really,” she said, pleadingly. “He said he’d made a mistake going back to Sandra and believing things were going to change. He told me all I had to do was make this journey to the airport and everyone would believe she’d left him.”

  “So he really had dumped you, then?” asked Slate
r.

  “No, of course he hadn’t. Not really. I always knew he would come back. It was always me he really wanted, not her,” she said. “But as soon as that stupid bitch Sandra mentioned starting over, he was off like a bloody shot. I told him it wouldn’t work out, but would he listen?”

  “So let me get this right,” said Norman. “You’re saying he dumped you and went back to Sandra. Then, he realised he’d made a mistake, asked you to act out the decoy runaway, waited six months and then moved you into the house in her place.”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Didn’t you think it was a bit weird, asking you to act out the runaway. I mean if she’d already gone, why do it again?” asked Norman.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I assumed it was something to do with this bizarre Sandra obsession of his.”

  “I’ll tell you what happened, shall I?” asked Norman. “You were jealous of Sandra because she was Mrs Bressler, and you were just his bit on the side. You knew that when the Bresslers moved down here to Tinton you’d never see him again. He told you as much, didn’t he?

  “But he also told you about the moving arrangements. Instead of going to a medical conference, you went to Tinton. You kidnapped Sandra and Rose, took them out to the Haunted Copse and killed them.

  “Then you staged the runaway with your niece so everyone would think Sandra had run out on Bressler and taken Rose with her. All you had to do then was wait a few weeks, start to sympathise with Bressler, and you’d find your way back in with him.”

  Lindy’s face told them they had got it right, more or less. Norman looked across at Slater.

  “Shall I? Or would you like the pleasure?” he asked.

  “I think you deserve this one,” Slater said, leaning back in his chair.

  “Lindy Fellows,” began Norman. “I’m charging you with the murder of Sandra Bressler and Rose Bressler…”

  “So what have you got on Bressler?” asked Bob Murray. “Is there actually any hard evidence to tie him to the murder?”

  “Err, no, not really,” Slater said reluctantly into the phone. “And Bastion’s insisting we have to let him go.”

  “Frankly, Bastion’s right to do so if you’ve no hard evidence.” Murray sighed. “You even said yourself that you think the Fellows woman’s lying about him being involved.”

  Slater could hear Murray breathing as he considered the situation.

  “No. I’m sorry, David, he might be guilty of some suspicious behaviour but that’s not enough on its own. You can’t hold him on suspicion alone. You’re going to have to let him go, and if Bastion’s creating, you’d better make it soon.”

  “Okay, Boss.” Slater pulled a face. “I’ll do it now.”

  “While I’m on the phone,” said Murray. “What’s happening with this smuggling thing? Is Norman there?”

  “He knows more about that case than me,” said Slater. “I’ll hand you over to him.”

  He quietly placed his hand over the handset.

  “Bugger!” he said. Then he passed the phone over to Norman.

  “We’ve got to let Bressler go, right?” asked Norman when he’d finished talking to Murray. “But you knew that anyway. You can’t charge a guy with murder just because you don’t like him.”

  “It’s not just that, Norm, and you know it,” said Slater, angrily. “We still haven’t found Terry Evans. It’s as if she suddenly vanished into thin air once her deal with Bressler ended. What if he’s bumped her off too? That really would be reliving his life with Sandra wouldn’t it?”

  “But no one has ever reported her missing,” said Norman.

  “That’s because there seems to be no family or friends to report her missing,” explained Slater.

  “But we have no proof she’s been murdered. Even if she has, why couldn’t it be Lindy who killed her? That’s who I’d be focusing on. Why does Bressler have to be involved?”

  “His attitude doesn’t work for me,” continued Slater, ignoring Norman’s question. “When we first told him about Lindy and her niece taking the taxi ride he couldn’t believe Lindy could do such a thing to him. Now, just a few hours later, he seems quite happy to accept she’s guilty as charged.”

  “Let’s be honest here,” said Norman calmly. “You just don’t like the guy because he thinks different to you and he knows how to get under your skin. I might even be so bold as to suggest there’s a certain amount of jealousy over Cindy.”

  “That’s bollocks. I’m not jealous,” said Slater, indignantly. “I just don’t like the way he talks about her like she’s a used car, or something.”

  “That’s where he thinks different to you,” explained Norman. “I’m not saying he’s right, but whether you like it or not, to him she is just like a used car, and he’s just about to trade her in for a newer model.”

  “We’ve still not been able to find Terry Evans, Mr Bressler,” said Slater, as he led him to the duty sergeant to collect his things.

  “Perhaps you’re looking in the wrong place,” said Bressler.

  Slater hated that smug, clever dick smile that was all over his face once again.

  “If you know where she is, what harm would it do to tell us?” asked Slater.

  “If I knew where she was, I would tell you,” said Bressler. “I’ve not seen or heard from her since our contract ended. Has it occurred to you that perhaps she doesn’t want to be found? Has anyone reported her missing?”

  “There is no one to report her missing, is there?” said Slater. “You must know she has no family.”

  “Yes. Of course I know that,” said Bressler, signing for his possessions. “Anyway, I’d love to continue this fascinating conversation with you, but I really would like to get home.”

  He offered Slater his hand to shake.

  “No hard feelings, eh?” Bressler smiled at him.

  But Slater just glared back. There was no way he was shaking Bressler’s hand.

  “Not going to shake my hand?” asked Bressler. “I do hate a sore loser. Never mind. Perhaps you’ll have better luck next time.”

  He turned to go, but then paused and turned back to Slater.

  “Did you know Cindy also has no family? So if she disappeared, no one would have reported her missing, either.”

  With that, he turned and was gone. Slater really wanted to chase after him, and punch that smug face, but a cold fear was suddenly spreading through his guts. What did Bressler mean “if Cindy disappeared”? He realised he hadn’t spoken to her or seen her for days. Where was his mobile phone? He turned and sprinted for the stairs.

  Back in the incident room, Norman was listening to Biddeford telling him what Rodgers had said. Apparently, the gang was Eastern European. Rodgers thought they could be Albanian, as Norman had suspected, but they could also be Serbians. All Rodgers could tell them was that the big boss was called Tony something, and the local boss was his daughter.

  “It all seems to tie in with what Billy Bumble told us,” explained Biddeford. “Even down to the woman being there last time. And that’s where it gets really interesting.

  “Apparently everyone wears black, and they all wear masks, and no-one ever speaks. It’s all done by gesture. But one night the boss’s daughter got a bit careless and let her mask slip just for a second or two. She didn’t realise it but Rodgers saw her face.

  “Then one day he was in Tinton and he saw her again. He says she runs the tea shop, Sophia’s.”

  Norman couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing and at first he said nothing.

  “Isn’t that the place you and Dave Slater go?” asked Biddeford. “Isn’t she the girl that’s always asking him to take her out?”

  “Holy crap,” said Norman. “Jelena?”

  “That’s her,” agreed Biddeford.

  “Billy Bumble said it sounded like Jelena, too,” said Norman.

  Slater came rushing through the door just as Norman called out Jelena’s name. He was in a panic, and the name only just registered w
ith him.

  “What about Jelena?” he asked, as he rushed to his desk.

  “I think you need to sit down before we tell you,” suggested Norman.

  “Just let me make this call,” said Slater, snatching up his mobile phone and searching for Cindy’s number. “It’s really important!” He pressed the button and heard it ringing.

  “Come on, come on,” he said, impatiently. He turned away from the other two and walked to the end of the room so they couldn’t hear him.

  “Hello,” Cindy’s voice said. “Fancy you calling now. I was just thinking about you.”

  A tidal wave of relief seemed to sweep right through him.

  “I can’t tell you how pleased I am to hear your voice,” he said.

  “Gosh, Detective Sergeant Slater,” she said, laughing. “How very forward of you, and we’ve only just met.”

  “Where are you?” he asked her.

  “At my house,” she said. “I’ve been decorating the bedrooms, but I’ve finished now and I’m hungry. I was just wondering if someone would like to come and join me for dinner.”

  “That sounds like a great idea,” he said, really meaning it. “But I’m not sure if I can get away yet.”

  “I can wait,” she sighed. “As long as I don’t have to wait too long.”

  There was a noise in the background. He thought it sounded like a doorbell.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “The doorbell,” she said. “I wonder who it can be. Let me have a look out of this bedroom window. Oh. It’s Rudy. What’s he doing here?”

  “Don’t let him in,” said Slater sternly.

  “Don’t be silly,” she said. “That would be so rude. All the lights are on and my car’s outside, so he knows I’m here. Of course I’m going to let him in. I’ll call you back in a little while.”

  “No. Listen to me, Cindy,” said Slater into the phone, but it was too late. She’d hung up.

  Norman was watching him and could see he’d finished his call.