by P. F. Ford
‘Clever so and so, aren’t you? I wouldn’t even have thought to look there.’
‘It’s what they pay me for,’ he said, happily.
‘So that proves someone was here,’ I said.
‘It proves someone looked through the window,’ he agreed. ‘But, unfortunately, it doesn’t prove someone broke in.’
My disappointment was clear. ‘Does that mean we’re knackered then and can’t do anything about it?’
He gave me the benefit of a seriously self-satisfied grin. ‘In most cases we would be, as you so eloquently put it, “knackered”, but this isn’t most cases. Remember when we arrested Dave Burnham, he suggested he had been paid to come here and “do a job”?’
‘Yes,’ I said, not quite sure where this was going.
‘Well, he’s refused to discuss it since and we had no evidence to place him here, so, up until now, all we’ve had is our suspicions. This footprint might just be enough to prove he was here.’
‘But that was ages ago,’ I said. ‘This footprint is fresh. It can’t have been him.’
‘We both know you’re probably right, but we have to make sure. I’ll get someone in to take an impression.’
I must have looked unimpressed.
‘Look,’ Slater said, ‘there’s just not enough evidence here for me to start a new investigation, but I can get that footprint analysed on the back of the Dave Burnham case. It’s the best I can offer you, and it’s definitely better than nothing.’
He was right, of course, and I certainly had no grounds for complaint. After all, the poor guy had given up his lunch break for me.
Chapter Four
The first time I met Allison Beatty she had left an indelible impression on me. At first sight she was rough, uncouth, and aggressive, but then, to be fair, she had mistakenly thought I was the police. Once she realised I was on her side and not against her, she had been as nice as pie. Even so, she had some serious issues to resolve, but I understood she was getting help now so I was reasonably optimistic about a friendly greeting. Unfortunately, my optimism turned out to be a bit optimistic, if you see what I mean.
The familiar heap of rubbish still obscured her back door and most of the path leading up to it. So that was one thing that definitely hadn’t changed. As I stood at her front door waiting for an answer, I heard an upstairs window open. Being the observant fellow that I am, I realised from the frosted glass that it must be the bathroom window. Looking up, I saw a bin bag full of rubbish being suspended from a hand. Then the bag seemed to grow rapidly in size as it was released and hurtled downwards.
Holy crap! She was aiming at me!
I managed to step aside just in time. The bag made a wet smacking sound as it hit the ground and burst, spraying its contents in all directions. Something really unpleasant-looking had been sprayed all over my left trouser leg up to knee height. Terrific.
I looked up again to see Allison leaning out, looking down on me, her huge bosom threatening an imminent break-out from the flimsy prison of a severely overstretched vest. I just hoped she recognised me before she sent another bag down. When she spoke, I realised that particular hope was in vain.
‘Fuck off!’ she yelled. ‘I ain’t got no money. I told yer mate yesterday and I’m tellin’ you now.’
To add emphasis to the message, she lobbed what might have been a hairbrush in my direction. I quickly covered my head and the brush bounced off my elbow.
‘Allison, it’s me,’ I yelled. ‘It’s about Billy!’
Maybe it was because we were looking at each other upside down. Or maybe it was because I was trying to cover my head with my arms. Whatever, she obviously didn’t recognise me.
‘You buggers ‘ave already carted ‘im off,’ she screamed with renewed venom. ‘And he DIDN’T DO IT!’
The last three words were shouted so loudly I thought my eardrums were going to burst.
For a moment she withdrew her head. I breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived relief. She had only ducked inside to grab a hose and turn it on. Trapped against the front door, I was quickly drenched in cold water and in my efforts to escape, I managed to go arse over head and ended up in a heap on the ground. To say this woman had a siege mentality would be an understatement. She could easily have kept a small army at bay.
At last she retreated inside long enough to turn off the hose. A moment later she re-appeared.
‘Now will you bugger off and leave me alone?’ she said, a triumphant grin on her face.
‘Allison,’ I spluttered, ‘it’s me, Alfie Bowman. I’ve come about the letter you sent me.’
On another day, in another situation, the transformation of the expression on her face from triumphant grin to absolute horror might have been funny. Right now, covered in all the crap from the burst bin bag, soaked to the skin and half-frozen, the humour of the situation seemed to escape me. Her face disappeared from the window once again.
From inside, I could hear the growing sounds of someone large thundering down the stairs. Then the door burst open and she was looking down at me, in my own personal, smelly heap on the floor.
‘Why didn’t you say who you were, you silly bugger?’
‘You didn’t really give me much chance, did you?’
She bent down to help me up, and for moment I had visions of being smothered as her vest gave up the struggle, but fortunately her new bra was just about equal to the task. So that was one thing that definitely had changed for the better.
‘I was rather hoping you might have recognised me,’ I gasped. ‘Especially as you came to me for help.’
A small audience had gathered to enjoy the spectacle of Allison Beatty vanquishing yet another foe on her doorstep. Suddenly realising they were there, Allison gave them a menacing glare.
‘‘Choo all starin’ at?’ she demanded.
That was enough to disperse the crowd. None of her neighbours were brave enough to risk the bin bag treatment or the hose.
‘It was that bleedin’ inspector bloke,’ Allison explained. ‘The one that looks like Inspector Clouseau. He come and took my Billy away. An’ he ain’t done nuthin’, honest.’
‘You mean Detective Inspector Nash?’ I gave him his full title to make sure we were talking about the same person, but I knew from her description that there was only one person she could mean.
Nasty Nash was a dead ringer for the original Peter Sellers version of Inspector Clouseau. He had even managed to find the hat and coat. But Nash was not some comic creation. He had earned the nickname ‘Nasty’ and since we had proved his father was a murderer, he had become a whole lot nastier and increasingly irrational. I was getting a bad feeling about this whole situation.
‘Yeah, that’s the one. That’s ‘im. Nasty bleedin’ Nash.’
‘But surely he would have had other police officers with him if he was making an arrest.’
‘Yeah, there was another bloke with ‘im. ‘E didn’t look like a copper though,’ said Allison, her eyes wide from the memory. ‘‘E was a flamin’ giant. Billy wasn’t in any position to argue with someone that size.’
‘A giant? He had a giant with him? Can you describe him?’
‘‘E was just a big, ugly-looking fucker. He didn’t say much but ‘e spoke kinda funny. Foreign-like.’
I couldn’t keep the alarm from my voice as the bad feeling I had about the situation suddenly got a whole lot worse.
‘I really think you’re going to have to call the police about this, Allison. Much as I would like to help you, I’m not really sure I’m equipped to deal with this.’
‘But they’re the buggers who took Billy away. ‘Ow is calling them gonna be any use?’
The absurdity of the situation didn’t escape me, but I also had to consider Allison herself. She had a massive persecution complex. In her head, the police were the enemy and a vengeance-seeking Nasty Nash arriving on her doorstep had simply confirmed her worst suspicions. There was no way she was ever going to trust the poli
ce. This was something I was going to have to do myself.
Chapter Five
‘Perhaps I ought to fit you up with your own hotline,’ said Dave Slater.
‘Yeah, I know. I’m sorry about that, but this is serious.’
‘Don’t tell me your folders have been rearranged again.’
‘Really, Dave, this is serious.’
‘Go on then, tell me the worst.’ I heard him sigh down the phone.
‘Well, remember you told me to go and talk to Allison and find out about Billy Bumble being arrested?’
‘Don’t tell me,’ he interrupted, ‘Billy hasn’t been arrested, he’s run away. And let’s be honest, who can blame him?’
‘It’s not funny, Dave. He’s been kidnapped.’
‘Kidnapped? Billy Bumble? Who would want to kidnap Billy Bumble? And why?’
‘How about Nasty Nash, to get revenge on Allison giving evidence against his dad?’
It was unusual for Dave Slater not to have an answer, but silence was the best he could do right now.
‘Dave? Did you hear me?’
‘I must have heard wrong,’ he said, ‘because I could have sworn you said Nash had kidnapped Billy Bumble.’
‘Nash and a giant, according to Allison.’
‘But he’s supposed to be in a nursing home getting psychiatric treatment,’ said Slater desperately. ‘And if it’s true, why hasn’t the stupid woman reported it to us?’
‘How many reasons do you want?’ I said. ‘You know damned well she doesn’t trust any sort of authority organisation because she’s been failed by them so many times. And, as she understands it, it’s the police who’ve carted Billy away, so she’s hardly going to believe you’ll help her get him back, is she?’
‘But he’s off sick. He’s not an official representative of the police at the moment.’
‘How are Allison or Billy supposed to know that? I mean Nash doesn’t wear a uniform, does he? So when he rolls up at their door accompanied by a giant and tells Billy he’s under arrest, he doesn’t try to run away or put up a fight, he goes with them.’
‘So Nash has finally flipped then,’ said Slater. ‘But this doesn’t make sense. He’s supposed to be under supervision. And what’s this stuff about a giant?’
‘He had an accomplice. A huge, ugly bugger with a foreign accent.’
‘That’s not much of a description, is it? Are you sure this is for real?’
‘It seemed real enough to me, but that’s for you to decide. Just ask yourself if you really want to be the latest in a long line of people who’ve let Allison down. Most of the others were coppers so you’ll be in good company if that’s what you decide to do.’
It probably wasn’t fair to adopt that attitude where Dave was concerned, but I was getting a bit fed up with his reluctance to take it seriously.
‘Ouch!’ he said. ‘That hurts. I do have rules to follow you know.’
‘I know, Dave. I’m sorry, but I think it’s for real and if you lot don’t want to help I’ll just have to do it myself.’
‘Okay. Point taken. I’ll look into it, but I’ve got a lot on right now so I don’t know exactly when I can get around to it.’
There was a brief silence, then his voice took a downturn as realisation sank in.
‘And I suppose I’m going to have to start by talking to Allison.’
‘Ha! You sure are.’ I laughed. ‘Good luck with that. She probably won’t even let you in. Watch out for the bin bag bombs, and the hose.’
‘It sounds like a war zone.’
‘Be warned by those who have gone before,’ I said. ‘All I will tell you for sure is that she’s in serious persecution mode right now. I’ll let you find out for yourself exactly what that means.’
Chapter Six
I was in a fight to the death. I was flat on my back. Someone was sitting on my chest, pinning me down. I could feel a face very close to mine.
‘Who are you?’ I demanded. ‘What do you want?’
There was no answer, just a steady, heavy breathing. And then a hand was placed over my mouth. I tried wriggling as best I could – maybe I could shake him off. But it was no good. All I managed to do was provoke him into poking some sharp things into my chin. Was it some kind of multi-pointed weapon? Was he going to rip my face open?
I suddenly realised my hands were free. Why the hell wasn’t I using them to fight back? Slowly, stealthily, I eased my arms up from under the sheets…
Wait a minute. This is a dream, isn’t it?
I opened my eyes. Of course. It was still dark. Lifting my head, I could barely make out the face staring at me from my chest.
Face? There’s a face staring at me? I froze. What the hell’s going on? In that awkward transition from being asleep to being awake, I was totally confused.
The large, overweight cat, which had been stretched luxuriously on my chest with an outstretched paw on my lips, was equally confused. His confusion turned to alarm as I began to sit up, and then transformed into indignity as he unceremoniously slid into a heap in my lap.
Somewhere, a mobile phone began to ring. Correction. My mobile phone began to ring but, disoriented as I was, I had no idea where the ringing was coming from. And where had that bloody cat come from? I didn’t even have a cat.
I switched on the bedside lamp and climbed out of bed. The ringing was beginning to get on my nerves, but it seemed to have no such effect on the cat. Having regained his composure, he was quick to recognise an opportunity when he saw one and began to ease himself into the warm space I had just vacated.
I turned to turf him out but decided the ringing was the bigger nuisance right at that moment. The cat wasn’t going anywhere. I could sort him out later.
I don’t know how the hell my phone had got under my bed, but that’s where I eventually found it. I gave the cat a look to let him know I knew he was responsible and we’d be having words about it just as soon as I had dealt with this call. Finally, I turned my attention to the phone.
‘Uuurrgghh!’ I grunted.
‘Do you know how many times that rang before you answered it?’
It was a ridiculously cheerful-sounding Dave Slater. I didn’t feel his cheerfulness or his question deserved an intelligent response at this time of the morning so I gave him another grunt.
‘Aren’t you a happy boy this morning?’ he said. ‘What’s up? Cat got your tongue?’
I couldn’t help smiling at that. I looked at the cat to see if he had anything to say, but he was in a state of bliss, eyes tightly closed as he paddled my pillow for all it was worth.
‘You’re not far off the mark there,’ I said. ‘He’s not actually got my tongue, but he has taken over my bed.’
‘What?’ said a puzzled Slater.
‘Don’t worry about it, Dave. Never mind the damned cat. Do you know what time it is?’
‘Of course I do, there’s a bloody great clock in front of me.’
‘It’s ten to bloody seven!’
‘Actually it’s eight minutes to. You must be running a bit slow,’ said Slater, chortling.
‘How can you be so cheerful this early? Don’t you need sleep?’
‘I obviously don’t need as much as you, you miserable bugger. Anyway, some of us have been working while you’ve been festering in your pit.’
As a rule, I’m not usually a morning person, especially when I’ve been so rudely awakened. Today was no exception to that rule.
‘Dave, please tell me this is important and that you haven’t just called to annoy me.’
‘Of course it’s important. I know it’s early but I’ve got a busy day ahead and I don’t know when I’ll get time later. Besides, this is something you need to know.’
There was a brief silence.
‘Well come on then. What’s so important you had to wake me this early?’
‘It’s about your friend and mine, DI Nasty Nash. He’s gone missing.’
I might not be a morning person, but I wa
s wide awake now.
‘What do you mean he’s gone missing?’
‘He’s walked out of the nursing home and no one knows where he’s gone.’
‘When?’
‘Four days ago.’
‘So why didn’t they report him earlier?’
‘He was a voluntary patient. He could leave any time he wanted. And he did.’
‘Oh crap! So Allison was right. It was Nash who took Billy. At least you can get onto it now.’
There was an awkward silence from the other end.
‘Dave? You are going to do something now, aren’t you?’
‘It’s not that I don’t want to, mate. But Allison hasn’t reported Billy missing. And no one has reported Nash missing either. Until someone does, I can’t do anything.’
‘So that’s it then.’ I sighed in exasperation. ‘It’s down to me or no one. I can’t just ignore it. You know that, don’t you?’
‘I’m trying to get some action here but we’re swamped as it is, and without any evidence or anything…’ His voice tailed off.
‘But if I find anything out, you’ll back me up?’ I asked.
‘Of course I will. Keep me in the loop, right? Find out where he is and I’ll bring the cavalry straight over.’
It wasn’t much, but I supposed it was better than nothing. All I had to do now was find Nash, but how was I going to do that? Who might know where to find him? If only DB was here now instead of being in a coma in hospital. He’d know what to do. But maybe there was someone who could help. It was a long shot, but I had to start somewhere.
In the meantime, where was that damned cat, where had he come from, and who said he could share my bed? I turned back to deal with the offending cat just in time to see him disappearing through my bedroom window. Well, at least I knew how he’d got in...
Chapter Seven
