by P. F. Ford
‘Really?’ Alfie asked in surprise. ‘You stuck up for me?’
‘Don’t sound so damned surprised,’ said Slater. ‘It just so happens I believe you. I think it’s just the sort of place someone would hide if only because it’s the last place we would expect him to hide. And anyway, you said I just had to let you know and you’d be there. Well, here I am letting you know. I really need your help.’
‘So we’re alright then, you and me?’
‘Of course we’re alright. But will you do it?’
‘You know she won’t let us in, don’t you?’
‘Why not?’ asked Slater.
‘Because as far as she’s concerned it was you lot that kidnapped Billy and then did nothing to help get him back. Anyway, once she sees you, it’ll give the game away and we’ll have no chance. Probably better if I go on my own.’
‘Ha!’ said Slater. ‘Believe me mate, if I could keep away from there I would, but Jones is insisting that I have to go, and I have to do the talking. You’ve just got to get us in there. Anyway, we’ve got a cunning plan for approaching the house. Direct from the Serious Crime Unit’s own book of cunning plans.’
‘Oh, right,’ said Alfie, derisively. ‘Somehow I doubt you have any plan that will outwit Allison and her personal persecution complex, but I’m always game for a laugh. Go on then, let’s hear it.’
As Detective Sergeant Dave Slater explained his cunning plan, Alfie proceeded to laugh his head off.
‘You’re kidding, right?’ he asked, when he eventually stopped laughing.
‘No. I’m not bloody kidding,’ snapped Slater.
‘Oh, you are, Dave. Honest, you must be. But it’s okay. I’ve always wanted to be in a Carry On film. This’ll be close enough to the real thing, I’m sure. What time do we start?’
‘We need to get on with it as soon as we can.’
‘Well, I’m not doing anything right now, and I could do with a good laugh. I’ll be there in about half an hour.’
It was just after 8pm when the gas board van drove onto The Valleys housing estate. Slowly, the van made its way around the green, stopping outside number 8. Unseen by anyone, a net curtain twitched in one of the upstairs windows of number 38, across the green from number 8. Inside the van, two men dressed in gas board uniforms were arguing.
‘This has to be the dimmest idea ever,’ said Alfie.
‘Well, you agreed to play your part and you’re here now, so just stick to the plan and we’ll be fine,’ said Slater.
Alfie looked at Slater and raised an eyebrow.
‘You think?’ he said. ‘Just make sure you don’t do anything to antagonise Allison or I could be visiting you in hospital later. Remember, you have been warned.’ He waggled a finger at Slater.
‘Come on,’ said Slater, suddenly decisive. ‘Let’s get this over with before I lose my bottle.’
They climbed from the van and walked up the path to Allison’s front door. Just as Slater leaned forward to knock on the door, it flew open, and there stood the imposing figure of Allison Beatty. She seemed bigger than ever, her huge bosoms jiggling dangerously towards his face, and she was wielding a broom.
‘Wha’doyoubloodywant?’ she snarled.
Slater took a quick step back so he was behind Alfie, and pushed him forward.
‘Well?’ Allison snapped, turning her attention to the man now nearest.
Slater knew this wasn’t the first time Alfie had been in this situation. Apparently, last time she had actually assaulted him before she realised who he was. It appeared she hadn’t recognised him this time, either. He wondered if perhaps she needed glasses.
‘Err, good evening, madam,’ Alfie began, meaningfully. ‘We’re from the gas board.’
‘I can see who you are,’ she said. ‘I jus’ wanna know why you’re on my doorstep?’
‘Ah, yes well,’ he said, then, lowering his voice, he whispered, ‘Allison, it’s me, Alfie.’
Slater watched, hoping she would recognise Alfie now, but ready to run if not. She didn’t seem to hear him, so he took a step further back. He wondered if perhaps she was going deaf as well.
‘If you don’t piss off, right this minute, I’m gonna-’
‘Allison, it’s me. Just let us in, please.’
In desperation, Alfie removed his hat. It was totally contrary to the plan, but Slater could appreciate he wasn’t going to just stand here and get beaten up by Allison, again. For a moment, her mouth dropped open in disbelief.
‘Ow long you been workin’ for the gas board?’ she asked, peering at him suspiciously.
‘I don’t,’ he said, replacing his hat. ‘It’s a ruse to get to speak to you. Can we come in?’
‘But we don’t have no gas,’ she said. ‘There ain’t no gas on this estate. Never has been.’
‘Oh shit!’ said Slater from behind Alfie. ‘This is a right cock-up then.’
‘Don’t panic,’ Alfie told him out of the corner of his mouth. ‘I’ve got an idea.’ He turned his attention back to Allison. ‘Can we come in for a minute, please?’
She looked over his shoulder at Slater.
‘I recognise him, don’t I?’ she said. ‘Isn’t he a copper?’
‘Yes, but he’s with me. It’s DS Slater. Don’t you remember him?’
‘They’re all the bloody same to me. Didn’t want to know when my Billy got kidnapped, did they?’
‘No,’ Alfie agreed, in a soothing tone of voice. ‘You’re right. That’s why Detective Slater’s here now. He’s come to apologise.’
‘Oh no he bloody hasn’t,’ Slater muttered from over his shoulder.
Alfie turned to face him. They were almost nose to nose.
‘Oh yes, he bloody has,’ Alfie hissed. ‘Unless he would rather go home without getting inside the house.’
Slater let out a world-weary sigh. He didn’t like it, but he knew Alfie was right.
‘Yes. Right,’ he said, through gritted teeth. ‘Of course that’s why I’m bloody well here. I’ve come to apologise.’
Slowly, and reluctantly, he spat the words out, but it seemed to be enough for Allison to let them in. At least they weren’t going to be stuck on the front step like a pair of idiots. Now they were going to be inside the house like a pair of idiots.
Allison stepped back and let them in, but only as far as the hall. She kept the brush in her hands and Slater had no doubt she would use it if she felt the need.
‘Right,’ she said. ‘I know you all think I’m stupid, but I’d be hard pushed to be as stupid as you two, coming up here dressed as gas board man when there’s no bleedin’ gas on the estate. I wasn’t born yesterday. You’re obviously up to something, so come on? What do you want?’
‘Well,’ Alfie began. ‘It’s like this...’
Allison stood quietly listening to their plan until Alfie had finished. Then she thought about it for a short while. And then she told them what she thought they should do with their plan.
It was nothing personal, she assured them, but they really ought to remember how her husband Billy had been kidnapped by a police officer and how the rest of the police force had done Sweet Fanny Anne to help rescue him. And now, quite frankly, she didn’t feel inclined to do Sweet Fanny Anne to help them.
‘So,’ she finished, ‘to put it bluntly, you can stick your request for help right up where the sun don’t shine.’ She opened the door. ‘And now you can bugger off.’
Slater went to open his mouth but, before he could say a word, Allison cut him off.
‘Don’t make me throw you out,’ she warned him. ‘I’ve been polite so far, but only coz Alfie’s here. Right now you’re starting to push your luck.’
It didn’t seem possible for her to adopt a more aggressive stance, but somehow she managed it. The threat was pretty impressive. Only a fool would have been prepared to stand his ground. They might have proved they were a couple of idiots by coming here dressed as gas board workers, but they weren’t fools.
‘Come
on, Dave, let’s go,’ said Alfie. Then, addressing Allison, he said, ‘Thanks for letting us in and listening, and I do understand how you feel. But, do you know, is there anyone else along here who might be willing to help us out?’
She gave him a sad little smile,
‘Seeing as how it’s you that’s asked… You could try number 12. She’s about the only decent person along here. She might help you.’
‘Thank you,’ he said.
They trooped back to the van and climbed in.
‘Bloody brilliant.’ said Slater, bitterly. ‘Not only have we picked the wrong utility company to impersonate but the bloody woman won’t help us anyway!’
‘Well, I did warn you,’ said Alfie. ‘But at least you’ve got an alternative to try now.’
‘Yeah, I suppose. But what do we do now? We can’t go on pretending to be the gas board, can we?’
‘Then again, if we’re being watched we can’t just drive off, can we?’
‘What a bloody cock-up.’ Slater sighed, putting his head in his hands. ‘My temporary London boss is going to be so impressed. He already thinks we’re a bunch of idiots. Now we’ve proved it.’
‘I thought it was his idea?’
‘Well, yeah it was, but as the local force we ought to know there’s no gas here, shouldn’t we?’
‘Ah! Right. I see what you mean.’
Alfie sat, quietly thoughtful, while Slater thought about how popular he was going to be when he tried to explain his way out of this latest fiasco.
‘But if we were from the gas board,’ Alfie began, ‘there is one reason we could have for being here.’
Slater turned to look at him. Had he finally gone completely mad?
‘What possible damned reason could we have for being here. There’s no gas, you idiot!’
Alfie smiled, patiently.
‘But suppose the gas board was considering installing a gas supply to these houses.’
‘But they’re bloody not, are they?’
‘I don’t know. But if they were, wouldn’t it make sense to come and speak to the people in these houses to find out if they wanted gas?’
A tiny spark seemed to light up Slater’s face.
‘What? You mean like a customer survey?’
‘Well, it would be more of a survey to see if there would be any customers. I mean, they wouldn’t spend all that money putting gas pipes in unless they knew they had customers waiting, would they?’
‘So the story is we’re here to carry out a survey? But it’s starting to get dark. Who would start surveying people at this time of night?’
‘Well, of course, if you’ve got a better idea,’ said Alfie, huffily. ‘Please feel free to tell me what it is.’
‘The idea’s alright, but it’s too late to start knocking on doors now. People will just tell us to sod off.’
‘So what are we going to do then?’ asked Alfie, patiently.
‘Right now, I think we should retreat. There’s a good chance Slick Tony hasn’t seen us. He’s got no reason to think we’re onto him. Then tomorrow morning we can come back and carry out our survey like you suggested.’
‘You’re the boss, Dave. Whatever you say.’
Slater fired up the van and they crawled slowly around the green. Even though most houses had a drive, the road was now packed tight with cars, and although there was a clear passage through, it was quite narrow. Number 38 was in darkness as they passed, and neither of them noticed the slight movement of the net curtains upstairs.
Chapter Five
‘What do you mean she wouldn’t co-operate?’ Jimmy Jones glared at Slater. ‘You told me with Alfie Bowman on board you’d have no trouble getting in.’
‘Oh, we got in alright,’ said a tired, pissed-off Slater. ‘She just won’t do anything to help the police. I told you she hates us, but it seems I underestimated just how much.’
Jones shook his head slowly and tapped on the desk.
‘Well that’s not bloody well good enough, Slater. I was led to believe Alfie Bowman would get us in. We’ve let a bloody amateur into our investigation for nothing. Where is he anyway?’
‘I sent him home. And it’s not his fault. He got us into the house and she did listen to him. It’s just that-’
‘Yes. I know. It’s just that we’re the police and she friggin’ hates us,’ finished Jones.
He slumped in his chair, suddenly looking exhausted. Slater stood on the other side of the desk waiting for the rest of his bollocking.
‘Well come on, Dave,’ said Jones. ‘We need some ideas. All the time you lot are farting around getting nowhere our criminal mastermind is preparing to do a runner. At this rate he’ll have skipped town before we even get set up. How do you think that’s going to make us look?’
Slater looked sheepish. He hadn’t told Jones the worst bit yet. But first maybe he could sweeten him up with the one bit of good news they did manage to gather.
‘Before she kicked us out she did mention that number 12 would be willing to help.’
This wasn’t quite what Allison had said. She had actually said that number 12 ‘might’ help them, but Slater thought this was no time for pessimism. He would find out if his optimism was justified later.
‘So why didn’t you go to number 12 and ask?’
‘Err, we did, but there was no one home,’ lied Slater. ‘There’s something else, Guv.’
‘Don’t tell me it gets worse,’ said an exasperated Jones. ‘What now?’
‘Well, we made a bit of a mistake. We were wearing gas board uniforms.’ He stopped, not quite sure of the best way to explain it.
‘So?’ asked Jones. ‘Why’s that a problem? We do that all the time up in London.’
‘Yeah. The thing is, you’ve probably got gas all over London.’
Jones slumped forward and rested his head on the desk. Then he quietly banged it against the desk as he spoke.
‘You mean… you went up there…dressed as gasmen…and there’s no….bloody… gas? He banged his head extra hard on the last word.
‘Don’t do that, Guv, you’ll give yourself a headache,’ said Slater, with a measure of genuine concern.
‘I’ve already got a bloody headache!’ roared Jones, sitting up straight. ‘I’ve been sent to Noddy Land and asked to work with a bunch of country bumpkins who couldn’t find their own arses without a diagram. That’s my bloody headache, Detective Sergeant Slater, and it doesn’t look like there’s any sodding cure.’
He slammed his fist down on the desk as he finished. Then, very slowly, he lowered his head back down until it was resting on the desk. Slater wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, so he settled for doing nothing. At least now Jones had stopped shouting at him. But when he’d been standing watching Jones for five minutes and nothing had happened, he started to become concerned.
‘Err, Guv? Are you alright?’
Suddenly, Jones sat upright.
‘Absolutely,’ he said. ‘It’s not your fault you’re not trained for this sort of job, and I need to take that into consideration. It’s something I’m going to have to learn to deal with. Right now I think we should have a short break, grab a cup of tea and get something to eat. Be back in half an hour and then we’ll start again. Alright?’
‘Yes, Sir. Right,’ said Slater, looking up at the clock. Working with DI Jimmy Jones and his mood swings was like riding a rollercoaster. Unless he could come up with some bright idea fast, this was going to be a bloody long night. But maybe if he used a little initiative he could save them some time.
Thirty-five minutes later, a beaming Dave Slater bounced into Jones’ office.
‘You’re late,’ said Jones, looking pointedly at his watch and tapping the face.
‘Sorry about that, Sir,’ said Slater. ‘I just had to make a couple of phone calls. We’re on for number 12!’
‘Pardon?’
‘Number 12. I just phoned. She’s a nice old dear, a bit deaf, but once I started shouting she was alri
ght. I told her we wanted to watch the green and see who’s doing all the damage and dumping rubbish out there. She thinks it’s a disgrace and she’s only too pleased to help. Says she has a front bedroom that looks across the green and we’re welcome to use it. I said we’d be there first thing in the morning but we’d be coming in over her back fence so no one would see us arrive.’
Slater felt pretty pleased with this development, and to his delight, Jones nodded his head and smiled back at him.
‘Well done, Dave. Have you got a team ready to move in?’
‘I’m taking DCs Biddeford and Weir, sir. Biddeford’s my partner and Weir’s the nearest thing we have to a surveillance officer. He does most of our surveillance work.’
Jones sat back in his seat, the grin still on his face.
‘I’m impressed,’ he said. ‘Well done. That’s excellent work. There’s just one more thing we need to do. Have we got someone here who can creep round to the back of the house he’s holed up in and fit up a camera so we can watch the back? Looking at the map it doesn’t seem likely our man will try to escape that way, but it won’t hurt to be able to see if there’s anything going on round there.’
‘We’ve got a techie guy we use for that sort of stuff. He thinks he’s a bit of a James Bond, but he’s okay. He can set up a remote camera that will feed a picture into our setup at number 12. I’ll get it organised.’
‘D’you know, I thought we were in for a long night. I underestimated you and I apologise for that,’ said Jones, beaming happily. ‘You get off now. I’ve just got some paperwork to catch up on and I’ll be away too. I like to be kept in the loop with surveillance so don’t be surprised if I call you, and don’t be frightened to call me. It doesn’t matter how trivial it might seem, I want to know. Even if you hear him fart, I want to know.’
While Dave Slater was having his ears bruised by Jimmy Jones, Alfie Bowman was climbing into his car to drive home. He had just started the engine when his mobile phone began to ring.
