Dave Slater Mystery Novels Box Set Two

by Ford, P. F.

  ‘Yes, Sir. Loud and clear,’ said a suitably chastened Slater.

  He wasn’t at all happy about this situation, but he knew if he pushed it too far he might find himself taken off the case altogether. At least it seemed Murray had finally decided to accept Norman was actually missing.

  ‘Good,’ said Murray, with a grim smile. ‘Look on the bright side. At least you won’t have to come up here every day to keep me informed. Now, I think you should get on with your work. You won’t find Norman talking to me.’

  Slater was going to point out that it hadn’t been his idea to come and waste time talking to Murray, but then he thought better of it.

  ‘What about Norm’s phone records?’ asked Slater. ‘You said you’d get them for me.’

  ‘It’s all in hand,’ said Murray, putting his head down and returning to his paperwork.

  Slater knew that signified the meeting was over, and he made his way over to the door. As he reached it, Murray spoke once more.

  ‘I’ll arrange for all the CCTV recordings to be collected and brought up here. I’ll get them here for this evening, and I’ve arranged a small team to help. I’ll arrange for them all to be here at seven for a briefing, and then you can bring them all up to speed. And think about what we’ve just discussed re: the new DI,’ he said, his voice full of warning. ‘Because I really don’t want to hear anything that makes me think you haven’t fully understood the situation.’

  Slater let himself out without responding.

  Chapter Twelve

  Behind the front desk at Tinton Police Station, Sergeant Sandy Mollinson yawned, stretched, and farted loudly. He had been on duty since ten the previous evening, having volunteered to stay in view of the situation, but, considering there was an officer missing, it had been a remarkably quiet day so far. It was just after 5pm and he hoped it was going to remain quiet. He’d hardly slept yesterday so he had been weary before he had even started his shift.

  He decided he was due a cup of tea, so he made his way through the open door behind the desk and out to the tiny kitchen that was home to their kettle and teapot. He put the kettle on and as it noisily bubbled away, he found himself a clean mug, tea bag and spoon. He poured the boiling water onto the tea bag and opened the fridge.

  His was the milk carton inscribed with the words ‘Sandy’s milk. Don’t even think about it. Just remember who runs the night shift.’ When he had first arrived, his milk had been treated as a communal possession by one and all. The warning had put paid to that.

  Making tea was an art form to Sandy. The tea bag had to be left in for just long enough, and of course, the milk had to be added last. He hummed to himself as he indulged his art. He thought he heard something out in the reception area, but decided whoever it was wouldn’t mind waiting for a minute or two. Great art just couldn’t be interrupted.

  As he finished the laborious process, his spoon rattling against his cup, he heard a sudden noise. Puzzled, he grabbed his cup of tea and ambled back to his desk. A woman was trying to get into the area of the station that only police officers (and criminals) were allowed.

  ‘Err, can I help you, love?’ Mollinson asked. ‘That area’s off limits to the public.’

  When the woman turned round, he finally got a look at her face, and saw that she was extremely attractive. She was around five feet eight inches in her trainers, and the designer jeans she wore were a good fit. A white tee shirt and a thin, expensive looking, faux leather jacket completed her outfit. She carried a large shoulder bag. Her shoulder-length, strawberry-blonde hair perfectly complemented her pale skin. A dusting of freckles and a pair of pale green eyes made her look vaguely Celtic.

  She turned to face Mollinson, her manner calm and collected as she walked slowly across to the desk.

  ‘Yes, you can help me, Sergeant,’ she said, reaching a hand deep into her bag. ‘My name’s DI Marion Goodnews. I’m here to take charge of the investigation into a missing DS. And I’ll thank you not to call me “love”.’

  She produced a warrant card and tossed it onto the desk. Sandy went pale. Why had no one warned him she was turning up tonight? He made sure to check the warrant card properly. It was genuine. She was who she said she was.

  ‘I’m sorry, Ma’am,’ he apologised. ‘I wasn’t expecting you. I just saw someone trying to get through that door-’

  ‘I’m no’ gonna make a big deal of it,’ she said. ‘I realise you weren’t expecting me. I managed to hand over my last case early so I was able to drive down this afternoon. I thought I’d come and introduce myself. I was hoping I might be able to have a wee look around. Just to get my bearings, you know?’

  Her accent was faintly Scottish, just a hint. Sandy took in her face and the steely, pale green eyes, made to look even bigger than they really were by a pair of large round spectacles. He figured she was probably in her mid 30s.

  Even though he was almost old enough to be her father, he could still appreciate how attractive she was. At the same time, however, he made a mental note not to cross her path if he could help it. He sensed a determination about her, and if she had reached DI already, she was obviously nobody’s fool.

  ‘I’d show you around myself,’ he said, apologetically. ‘But we’re a bit thin on the ground. Everyone’s out looking for DS Norman. I can let you in if you want to look around, or I can call someone in.’

  ‘I don’t think it would right to call anyone in from a search,’ she said. ‘I’ve obviously come at the wrong time, but at least I know where you are. That’s a start. I’ll go and check into my hotel and then when I come back in the morning I’ll be ready to go.’

  ‘There’s a briefing at seven this evening,’ ventured Mollinson.

  ‘In that case, I’ll make sure I’m back here in time,’ said Goodnews. ‘It’ll give me a chance to introduce myself and catch up with what’s happened so far,’

  ‘Let me show you out the back way, then,’ insisted Mollinson. ‘It’s the way we all use to come in and out. It opens out onto the car park.’

  He led her through the back office and out to the back entrance.

  ‘You can park anywhere,’ he said waving at the car park. ‘But the DI’s space is supposed to be just there, next to the DCI.’

  He pointed to two spaces close to the back door.

  ‘Thank you, Sergeant,’ she said, smiling. ‘I’ll be back later.’

  Sandy watched her as she walked across the car park. As she neared the gate, he pressed the button to open it for her. He thought she looked efficient and he imagined she was very effective at her work. He decided he liked her, so far. This place needed someone to kick it into shape, and he thought she might just be the one to do it.

  He watched as the gate slid quietly closed after she had left, then he made his way back inside the building. He thought about calling Dave Slater to warn him the new DI had arrived, then he thought better of it. Slater would find out soon enough.

  Chapter Thirteen

  DI Goodnews sat at a desk in the back of the incident room, leafing through the case notes as the room filled with tired-looking police officers. It was just before 7pm, and she was trying to get up to speed with the situation as soon as possible. The buzz of chatter made it difficult to concentrate though, and she eventually shoved the case notes way and leaned back in her chair.

  She looked around at the assembled officers, trying to work out if any of them could be DS Dave Slater. DCI Murray had told her he had been in charge. She had raised an eyebrow at this – a DS in charge of a missing police officer case seemed unusual to her, but perhaps it was a testament to this Dave Slater’s skill.

  The door was flung open, suddenly, and a man in his mid to late 30s strode in. He was wearing a suit not dissimilar to her own smart, dark blue number. Sometimes she felt putting on professional clothes was like putting on another skin. The man was quite attractive, she thought, with short brown hair, brown eyes, and a fairly fit build. He obviously kept himself in shape. This was probably th
e fabled DS Slater.

  The illusion of attraction, however, rapidly dissipated for Goodnews when the new arrival opened his mouth.

  ‘Which one of you plonkers has parked their fancy new Alfa in my space?’

  She was torn between irritation as being addressed like this, and amusement as she saw half a dozen heads turn in her direction.

  ‘It must be this plonker,’ she said, standing up. ‘I was informed that was the DI’s parking space. That’s why I’m parked in it.’

  She walked around the desk and across to where the man – she was sure this was Slater, from the slightly deferential air of the other officers – stood, his face turning a fetching shade of puce.

  ‘So that’ll be Detective Inspector Plonker, okay?’ She fought back a smirk.

  ‘Err yes,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry…err-,’

  ‘DI Marion Goodnews,’ she said, sticking out a hand. ‘And you must be DS Slater?’

  He nodded and took her hand. He had a firm shake, she was glad to find out.

  ‘Err, you’re a woman,’ he said, gawping at her. Goodnews felt a sudden flash of irritation. She was used to getting this kind of reaction – she had been fighting against outdated stereotypes her whole career. But she was disappointed to find that the man she would be working closely with one this case was one of the ‘old boys’ who resented being bossed around by a woman.

  ‘My goodness,’ she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘You don’t miss much, do you?’

  There was a slight titter from the assembled officers, but Slater’s face had gone even redder, if that was possible. She considered tormenting him further but then decided the moral high ground was a better place for her to occupy.

  ‘I’ve already said hello to most of you,’ she said, raising her voice to include everyone. ‘I want you to know I’m not here to hinder you, or check up on what you’re doing or anything underhand like that. DCI Murray tells me you’re a good team, so that’s good enough for me.

  ‘I’m here to help and assist in any way I can. I’ve been asked to head this investigation because you all know DS Norman. It was felt, for that very reason, that someone from outside should be brought in. I can offer a unique viewpoint in this case as I’m not involved with the person at the centre of it. It will be far easier for me, as a stranger to Norman, to step back and look at the big picture. I’ve handled this sort of operation before, so I do know what I’m doing. If anyone has any questions for me, please save them until after the briefing.’

  She looked slowly from face to face before continuing.

  ‘Obviously I’ve only just arrived and I’m not yet up to speed, so DS Slater will lead this briefing. I’ll be catching up tonight so we’ll all be on the same page by tomorrow morning. But there is one thing you all need to be aware of, and it’s this: we’re not going to find Norman by rushing about here, there, and everywhere, like the Keystone Cops. Trust me, the only way we’re going to find DS Norman is by being thorough and professional. Just remember, if headless chickens could solve crimes we would all be out of work.’

  She took another look at the faces around her before continuing.

  ‘So don’t let me see any chicken impersonations, okay?’

  She smiled and nodded to Slater.

  ‘Carry on, Sergeant.’

  She returned to the desk at the back of the room, and sat down. She watched as Slater made his way to the front of room, his face still bright red.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Slater had found the briefing really hard going. He had been flustered right from the start, and having DI Goodnews present throughout seemed to completely unsettle him. It was even worse that he had called her a plonker, and then made that ridiculous comment about her being a woman. She probably thought he was a chauvinistic pig now, and he really wasn’t. He had just been surprised, that’s all. And he had never worked with a woman before. Slater had a natural aversion to change, and suddenly everything around him seemed to be changing.

  He was used to leading a team, or at least sharing the lead with Norman, and having her there made him feel uncomfortable. It was as if he was having to prove himself all over again.

  Goodnews hadn’t said a word during the briefing, but she had been listening intently and taking copious notes. Now everyone else had headed off for a quick snack before they started viewing the CCTV footage, and it was just the two of them left in the room. She approached the desk at the front, where Slater was collecting his notes together. He was still smarting from his earlier gaffe and he kept his head down as she approached.

  ‘D’you always do the briefings?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he apologised, feeling guilty. ‘That wasn’t very good, was it? I wasn’t expecting you to be here, and that thing with the car wasn’t a great start. It threw me a bit.’

  ‘Your briefing was fine. I wasn’t looking to criticise you,’ she said. ‘I was just asking. This is a bit of a weird set-up here without any DIs. I just wondered if that meant it all fell down to you.’

  ‘Me, or Norm,’ he said. ‘We sort of share it between us.’

  ‘Doesn’t that cause problems?’ she asked.

  ‘Not really,’ said Slater. ‘We seem to complement each other.’

  ‘But there’s no real chain of command, is there?’ she said.

  ‘It’s worked alright for the last few months.’ Slater felt quite defensive.

  ‘Yes, I’ve looked at your figures,’ she said. ‘You’ve been quite successful as a team. I’m impressed.’

  Slater wondered if he was supposed to be flattered or if there was about to be a big ‘but’. He put his head down and continued shuffling papers.

  Goodnews watched him for a few moments.

  ‘I think we need to talk,’ she said, finally.

  ‘There’s not much to add to what’s in the notes,’ he said. ‘At least not yet. I’m hoping we’re going to get something positive from the CCTV this evening.’

  ‘I didn’t mean talk about the case,’ she said, patiently.

  ‘Oh,’ he said, looking up at last. ‘Is there something else?’

  ‘I think so, don’t you?’ she asked. ‘We could start with the damned great elephant in the room.’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Slater looked back down at his papers, feeling uncomfortable.

  ‘Then perhaps I’d better spell it out,’ she said. ‘You seem to have a problem with me being here.’

  ‘You mean the thing with the parking space?’ he said. ‘I’m sorry about that, but it’s nothing, really. I didn’t mean anything by it.’

  ‘No, I don’t mean the thing with the parking space,’ she said, patiently. ‘Look, we don’t have to like each other to work together, but we do need to respect each other, and we do need to be honest with each other.’

  ‘I don’t see what the problem is,’ said Slater.

  ‘Oh really?’ she said. ‘I don’t need a degree in psychology to see you’re unhappy with this situation, and I can see anger bubbling away under the surface. Now, if we’re going to work together I need to know why that is, and if I’m the reason why, we need to sort things out right now, because if I think I can’t work with you I will request you be removed from this case.’

  DI Goodnews’ voice hadn’t changed one little bit during the exchange so far, but she managed to convey a hardness within her soft tones that was enough to warn Slater he should be careful. He registered it – and then proceeded to completely ignore it.

  ‘Jesus,’ he said. ‘Slow down a bit. You’ve only been here five minutes and already you’re shoving me out the door-’

  ‘Ah. So it is me,’ she said. ‘Well, come on then. Let’s hear it. Why am I such a problem?’

  ‘I’ve got nothing against you personally.’ Slater sighed. ‘How could I have? We’ve never even met before. I’m just a bit miffed that I’ve been doing this job for months now, and suddenly I’m no longer considered capable of holding it all together. Suddenly we need a
DI, after months and months without one.’

  ‘Well, I can help you out there,’ said Goodnews, quietly but firmly. ‘For a start, it’s standard procedure in cases like this for an outsider to be brought in to run the investigation. It would be the same if it was me and my working partner. I wouldn’t be allowed to lead the investigation because I would be too close. So, don’t blame me for that, it’s the rules.

  ‘Also, a case like this calls for an officer of DI rank, or even higher, to be the lead officer. If you were a DI, perhaps you’d have a better argument in your favour. But the fact is, it seems you have never shown an interest in achieving such a rank, whereas I have. It’s the rules, again, and I don’t see how that puts me in the wrong, do you?’

  ‘Well, yeah, I suppose,’ agreed Slater, reluctantly. ‘But I’ve been acting as a DI for bloody months now. I can do the job-’

  ‘Will you get it out of your head that this is some sort of judgement on your ability to do the job,’ said Goodnews. ‘It’s nothing to do with that, and, as far as I’m aware, no one has any plans to push you out of the door. There’s a story behind what’s been going on here. But it’s not relevant right now, so I’ll tell you about it another time.’

  ‘It’s all so unfair,’ said Slater, barely listening to what she was saying. ‘I always seem to get shit dumped on me from all sides-’

  ‘Oh. So I’m shit now, am I?’ said Goodnews, bristling.

  ‘I didn’t mean that,’ apologised Slater, hurriedly, sensing that he was digging a hole for himself. ‘It’s just that I’m always the one-’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ interrupted Goodnews, finally raising her voice. ‘Now I see where this is going. You want to make this all about you, don’t you? Never mind about your mate, DS Norman, who’s been missing for over 24 hours and needs a well-run team looking for him. No, let’s forget about him. Instead let’s focus our attention on what’s really important like poor, hard-done-by DS Slater, who’s had his nose put out of joint by my arrival.’