A Complete Fiasco

by P. F. Ford

  ‘Okay. Whatever. I do want to put it right. Just say the word.’

  ‘I’ll hold you to that when I get the chance,’ said Slater, satisfied with his moral victory. ‘But right now I’m going to have to go.’

  It was gone 5pm, when Slater’s office phone rang – not for the first time that day. He had been ignoring all calls, but this time he heaved a sigh and picked up the phone.

  ‘Dave, it’s Alfie. I’ve been trying to reach you all afternoon.’

  ‘Yes, I know. It’s very flattering that you feel the need to pursue me, but I told you this morning, we’re working our arses off here. I also told you I haven’t got time to go for a pint, so this had better be important.’

  ‘Now who’s treating a friend as if they’re stupid? I’m well aware how busy you are. D’you really think I’d be calling if it wasn’t important?’

  ‘But I’m tied up on this big case, and-’

  ‘And have you found him yet?’

  ‘Found who?’ asked Slater cautiously.

  ‘Slick Tony. That’s what the papers are calling him.’

  ‘Look, I haven’t got time for this now-’

  ‘I know where he is,’ said Alfie, matter-of-factly.

  There was a brief, stunned silence while Slater considered what he’d just heard. He decided Alfie was taking the piss.

  ‘Look,’ he snarled. ‘If this is another one of your stunts, I’ll, I’ll-’

  ‘Is that what you really think of me? Do you really think I would want to waste your time? Or is it more likely I would want to try and help you?’

  There was another silence. Slater wrestled with himself. What was he supposed to believe? Alfie had hidden stuff from him before – but then, if he really did know where Slick Tony was, this could be Slater’s chance to show DI Jones that Tinton certainly wasn’t a shambles.

  ‘Well, it’s your choice, Dave. I can put the phone down now and stop wasting your time, or you can listen to what I have to say and maybe you’ll learn where your fugitive is.’

  Finally, Slater made his mind up.

  ‘Alright,’ he said. ‘I’ll buy it. But this is too big for me to meet you for a pint. You’ll have to come down here and talk to me and my temporary boss, DI Jimmy Jones.’

  ‘I can be at the front desk in 15 minutes,’ said Alfie.

  ‘We’ll be waiting,’ said Slater.

  Slater was waiting for Alfie by the front desk when he sauntered in. A six-foot fifty-something, with thinning hair and dressed in jeans and a sweater, he looked every inch the ‘unlikely hero’ he had been dubbed. Slater quickly whisked him away and led him into the nearest interview room. A single table was in the centre of the bare room, one chair either side, and one on the end.

  DI Jimmy Jones stood to greet Alfie and shook him by the hand.

  ‘Mr Bowman, do take a seat,’ he said, indicating the seat opposite him. Slater slipped into the chair on the end.

  Once they were settled, Jones wasted no time.

  ‘Dave here tells me you fancy yourself as a bit of a Sherlock, Mr Bowman.’

  ‘I do seem to have found myself in one or two interesting situations,’ said Alfie, smiling.

  ‘Yes,’ said Jones, doubtfully. ‘I’m sure you have. But here’s the thing you need to understand. I have no time for amateurs. In my experience they tend to be interfering busybodies who try to force their own theories into police investigations, and invariably they have a completely different agenda to mine. I’m not interested in helping you to cover yourself in glory. I just want to catch the villain. I hope you understand where I’m coming from.’

  Slater watched Alfie’s face as Jones finished his little speech with the sort of smile a shark might offer to its victim. He half expected Alfie to tell them to take a running jump, but to his relief he just smiled back at Jones.

  ‘Well here’s a something for you to consider, DI Jones,’ said Alfie, his voice quite even. ‘I’ve come here today to volunteer some information which may help your enquiry. I am not seeking glory, nor do I have the slightest desire to get involved in your investigation. My only agenda is to enjoy my life and try and have as little contact as possible with smug arseholes who think they’re superior to everyone else, but sometimes they can’t be avoided. I hope you understand where I’m coming from.’

  Slater watched the smile slowly fade from Jones’ face as Alfie said his piece. Jones looked like he wanted to strangle someone – Alfie, most likely – but Alfie just met his stare.

  Slater thought he couldn’t actually have put that any better than Alfie had, even if he’d had all week to think about it, and he made a mental note to congratulate him when he got the chance. Right now, though, he thought he’d better step in and try to defuse the situation.

  ‘To be fair, Guv,’ he started, ‘Mr Bowman has proved to be very helpful to us in the past. And I can assure you he’s not one for getting in the way of an investigation.’

  Jones turned to look at Slater and then back at Alfie.

  ‘Oh. I get it.’ He sighed. ‘You two are mates, aren’t you?’

  ‘Well, we know each other, of course,’ said Slater, ‘but why is that a problem? I mean how does it make Alfie’s information any less relevant or important? My mum could come in later. Would her information be less important because she knows me?’

  Jones turned back to Slater again. Out of the corner of his eye, Slater was sure he had just seen Alfie sit back as if he was in a ringside seat.

  ‘Alright, Sergeant.’ said Jones, backing down somewhat. ‘I was speaking from personal experience, you understand.’

  ‘So am I, Sir,’ said Slater respectfully. ‘You have to remember this isn’t London. As you were so quick to point out earlier, this is just a tin-pot little town in Hampshire. You asked me to help with my local knowledge, and my local knowledge is that Alfie Bowman wouldn’t be here if he didn’t have some information that he felt would be useful to our enquiries. And, for what it’s worth, it’s my professional opinion we could do with some help.’

  Jones sighed heavily, and lowered his head for a moment while he rubbed his temples. When he raised his head, however, he looked at Slater as if with a new respect.

  ‘I stand corrected, Sergeant,’ he said, then he turned to Alfie. ‘And I apologise if I have offended you, Mr Bowman.’

  Not for the first time that day, Slater’s opinion of Jones went up a notch or two. You have to respect a man who’s prepared to admit when he’s got it wrong.

  ‘Right,’ said Slater, turning to Alfie. ‘Now we’ve cleared that up, what have you got for us?’

  ‘Your man. Slick Tony,’ said Alfie. ‘I saw his picture in the newspaper and I recognised him. I know where he is, and I think he’s been here for a few days.’

  ‘You’re quite sure?’ asked Jones. ‘That picture in the newspapers isn’t very good.’ He slid a photograph across the table. ‘This is a much better one.’

  Alfie looked at the photo.

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘that’s him. No doubt at all. I first saw him a few days ago after the Billy Bumble thing.’

  ‘Billy Bumble?’ asked Jones looking quizzically at Slater.

  ‘A local villain,’ explained Slater. ‘It’s nothing to do with this case, but it was just a few days ago. Alfie helped us with that one.’

  Jones looked unimpressed.

  ‘Perhaps you could enlighten me later,’ he said to Slater, then he turned back to Alfie. ‘But you said this was few days ago. Why didn’t you come forward then?’

  ‘I didn’t know he was a fugitive then, did I?’ said Alfie. ‘It was in the early hours of the morning. I was in the High Street when this Rolls Royce glided by. Slick Tony was in the back. He was staring at me and then he made a gun with his hand and aimed it at me. It was really weird.’

  ‘What’s so special about you that he would he make a gun and aim it at you?’ asked Jones. ‘Have you met him before? Do you know him?’

  ‘As far as I’m aware I’ve neve
r set eyes on him, but then he’s got one of those faces. Like a film star you feel you should know but you don’t. Does that make sense?’

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Slater, ‘that seems to be the general opinion. We all feel we should know who he is but none of us do. He manages to look well known and unknown at the same time.’

  ‘Yes, alright. Enough of that,’ said Jones. ‘You say you know where he is now?’

  ‘That’s right. I was up at The Dump this morning.’

  ‘The Dump?’ Jones looked at Slater quizzically.

  ‘It’s a housing estate.’

  ‘I went to see Billy Bumble, but he wasn’t in,’ continued Alfie. ‘As I was driving around the estate to come home there he was again, watching me from a window in number 38, opposite Billy’s house.’

  Jimmy Jones looked at Alfie in disbelief.

  ‘Slick Tony,’ he explained patiently, ‘is a very dangerous man. He’s what I would call serious business. Yet you would have us believe he’s holed up in a council house on a crappy housing estate called ‘The Dump’ in a piddly little town like Tinton.’

  He paused to let his words sink in. Slater had to agree with him – it did sound seriously unlikely, but then again, the whole scenario of a big-time criminal being in Tinton and the SCU turning up to look for him wasn’t exactly an everyday occurrence.

  ‘Not only that,’ Jones continued, ‘but you claim he seems to have taken a great interest in you, Mr Bowman. First he’s making an imaginary gun in the early hours and firing at you, and now he’s watching you from his hideout. Why would someone like him, a genuine Mister Big, take an interest in someone like you?’

  Alfie smiled that smile again.

  ‘I know,’ he agreed. ‘It sounds very unlikely to me, too. And I have no idea why he should be watching out for me. Maybe it’s just a coincidence. Maybe I’m mistaken. I can only tell you what I saw.’

  They all sat staring at each other for few moments. Finally, Jones seemed to make up his mind.

  ‘Right, Mr Bowman. Thank you for coming in to see us. We’ll be in touch. The constable outside the door will see you off the premises.’

  Slater couldn’t quite believe Jones was dismissing Alfie’s story out of hand. He bit his lip as Alfie was ushered out of the room.

  ‘You see?’ said DI Jones, ‘That’s exactly what I mean about these amateur bloody detectives. They always want to make it all about themselves. I mean, come on. Slick Tony watching Alfie Bowman? How likely is that?’

  ‘About as likely as a DI from London’s Serious Crime Unit coming down to a piddly little town like Tinton to lead a manhunt,’ answered Slater. ‘Look, you know the guy’s in this area somewhere, so why not on a rundown housing estate? It sounds to me like it’s the perfect place to hide, especially if the DI leading the hunt thinks it’s the last place he’d choose.’

  Jimmy Jones drummed his fingers on the table while he digested Slater’s words. Then a broad grin spread across his face.

  ‘Do you know, Sergeant,’ he finally said. ‘I’m glad I don’t have to work with you every day.’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘I think I’d soon get pissed off with you proving me wrong several times a day.’

  ‘Ah. Right,’ said Slater. ‘So you think maybe we should look into this a bit further?’

  ‘I think we can’t afford not to. However, we need to be very careful. We can’t just go marching in there, mob handed. The guy’s likely to be armed and we know he’s dangerous. If your friend Mr. Bowman is correct and Slick Tony’s been here for a few days undetected, the chances are he thinks he’s safe for a few more days. What’s this estate like? Could we set up a surveillance operation to watch that house?’

  ‘I’ll get us a map,’ said Slater, a rush of adrenaline boosting his enthusiasm.

  ‘Good idea,’ agreed Jones. ‘I’ll see you upstairs in five minutes.’

  Chapter Three

  ‘So where’s this house then?’ asked Jones, staring at the map of the town Slater had spread out on the desk before them.

  Slater pointed out The Dump, aka The Valleys Estate. The map showed the houses arranged around the central green. Slater pointed to one of them.

  ‘Alfie said it’s number 38, which would be on this side here.’

  ‘Right,’ said Jones. ‘With your local knowledge, I’m sure you must know some of the people who live on this estate. So tell me, which house has occupants who would be likely to allow us to set up a surveillance operation in their front bedroom?’

  ‘Ah. Yes, well, The Dump is not exactly one of those estates where we’re likely to win a popularity contest anytime soon.’

  ‘Bugger.’ Jones sighed. ‘I had a feeling this was all going too well. Get a lot of trouble up there do you?’

  ‘More than anywhere else.’

  ‘Okay, so if no one likes us up there, is there anyone we can lean on? Or someone who owes us, even if they don’t like us? What about that Billy bloke you mentioned earlier?’

  ‘Billy Bumble?’ Slater smiled ruefully. ‘Billy Bumble has been a pain in the arse for years. He’s a petty thief who can’t seem to help himself. He regards us as a challenge so I can’t see him helping us out. And his missus is even worse. She absolutely friggin’ hates us!’

  ‘So what happened a few days ago? And how come your mate Bowman got involved?’

  ‘Well, it’s a long story and a bit embarrassing to be honest, but I’ll give you the short version. Billy got kidnapped by a rogue police officer-’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ interrupted Jones in disbelief.

  ‘We’ll be here all night if you want to know the whole story, Guv. Trust me on this. Billy got kidnapped. His wife hates the police or any sort of authority, so she didn’t report him missing, but she did go to Alfie and ask for his help. Long story short, we didn’t get involved because no crime had been reported. Then we got a call to go to this disused old house where we find Billy Bumble, the kidnap victim, all trussed up like a turkey ready to go in the oven. We also find the rogue police officer who had kidnapped him handcuffed to his own car.’

  Jones laughed out loud, his disbelief even more evident.

  ‘How very convenient for you, Sergeant,’ he said, when he’d finished laughing. ‘Anyway, what has this got to do with Bowman? How was he involved?’

  ‘He tracked down the house on his own because Billy’s wife Allison asked him for help. He managed to do the job for us.’

  ‘Is it always like this down here? It’s like a bloody circus. It sounds a lot more fun than where I work. Maybe I should ask for a transfer.’ He chuckled away happily to himself. ‘So, Bowman tipped you off, then?’

  Slater thought about how he should answer this. He decided to use caution and avoid answering it altogether.

  ‘He got there just moments before us.’

  Jones studied Slater’s face. It was clear he could tell Slater had shirked the question, and Slater was pretty sure this wouldn’t be the last he heard of it.

  ‘Well, whatever,’ Jones said, eventually. ‘The point is this Billy Bumble guy lives right opposite the house we think Slick Tony is hiding in, and he has reason to be grateful to you. He owes you a favour, so get over there and lean on him.’

  ‘It’s not quite as simple as that,’ said Slater, sighing. ‘It’s Billy’s wife, Allison. She won’t let any of us anywhere near the inside of her house. She was abused as a kid and really hates any sort of authority. She’s a bit of a psycho and she’s dangerous. If we turn up there, the chances are there’ll be a battle on her doorstep. Slick Tony will know we’re on to him before we get a chance to set up any sort of surveillance.’

  ‘Are you telling me you’re all frightened of just one woman? What is she? Some sort of ninja superwoman?’

  ‘Oh no,’ said Slater. ‘Believe me, she’s much worse than that. Ask Alfie – she beat the crap out of him a couple of times before he eventually got through to her. As far as I know he’s the only person she trusts enough to let in
to her house.’

  Jones beamed.

  ‘Well, there you are then,’ he said. ‘Get on to your mate Alfie and take him up there with you.’

  Slater turned pale.

  ‘You want me to go up there?’ he gasped.

  ‘Is that a problem?’

  ‘Err, no. I suppose not, Sir. But what happened to “not wanting amateurs involved in police investigations”? Now you’re inviting an amateur on board.’

  ‘Needs must, Slater, needs must. Sometimes we have to do things we don’t really want to do. It’s all for the greater good, you know what I mean?’

  ‘Right. Yes. Of course, Sir.’

  Slater contemplated the idea of arriving on Allison’s doorstep, and how happy she would be to see him. Not.

  ‘And Slater,’ Jones interrupted his train of thought. ‘This is urgent, remember?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I was just wondering how we should go about it that’s all.’

  ‘I can help you there,’ said Jones. ‘Let’s grab a cup of tea and I’ll tell you the sort of thing we usually do up in London. I’m sure it will work just as well down here…’

  Chapter Four

  ‘So let me get this straight,’ said Alfie. ‘You want me to go with you to Allison’s house, and then when we get inside you want me to persuade her to let three policemen camp out in her front bedroom to spy on the house opposite. Is that right?’

  ‘That’s about it, yes,’ said Slater. He could hear Alfie laughing down the phone.

  ‘It isn’t April Fool’s Day, is it Dave? I mean, this is a joke, isn’t it?’

  ‘No, it’s not a bloody joke. I need to get into Allison’s house. You’re the only person she trusts.’

  ‘Well pardon me for sounding a tad dubious,’ said Alfie, ‘but just two or three hours ago your boss dismissed me and my information like I was some sort of time-waster. Now I seem to be a vital part of your master plan. How did that happen?’

  ‘If you must know, I pointed out that what you said was no more unlikely than a DI from the Serious Crime Unit coming down to a place like Tinton to lead a manhunt. When I put it to him like that he seemed to think maybe he should take you a bit more seriously.’