Dave Slater Mystery Novels Box Set Two

by Ford, P. F.

  He flicked the switch on the battery-powered lantern, fumbled the door open and slipped inside. He held the lantern up to see better, but it wasn’t a great deal of use.

  Then two things happened almost at once. First, Goodnews began to speak over the radio, and then, before he even had time to make out what she was saying, he felt a blow to the back of his head and he fell to the ground.

  Back in the car, Goodnews was just thinking about getting a bit nearer the action when her phone began to ring. She looked at the incoming number. That’s funny, she thought. What the hell do they want now?

  ‘Goodnews,’ she said into the phone.

  She listened in disbelief.

  ‘What do you mean the car’s come back?’ she asked. ‘You said he was on his way.’

  What she was hearing was not what she wanted to hear.

  ‘What do you mean she’s driving it?’ she shrieked. ‘Are you telling me it was her in the first place? So where’s he, then?’

  She listened again.

  ‘What do you mean, you don’t know? Jesus. You only had to do one simple job. Can’t you tell the difference between a man and a woman?’

  Someone on the other end was trying to explain, but she wasn’t listening any more.

  ‘You weren’t watching the back were you?’ she asked. ‘He could have been down here for hours, in which case he’ll know we’re onto him. And I’ve just sent a bloody man down there. He could be walking into a trap.’

  She cut the call in disgust, and tossed her phone down onto the passenger seat.

  ‘Slater,’ she said into the radio. ‘We’ve got a problem.’

  There was no spoken answer, but she heard a thudding sound

  ‘Slater? Hello? DS Slater?’ she said frantically into the radio. ‘Dave? Are you alright?’

  There was a lot of noise coming over the radio now, but there was nothing she could recognise, and then suddenly there was a voice, but it wasn’t Slater.

  ‘Hello?’ said a voice she recognised. ‘I suppose that must be DI Goodnews I’m talking to, is it?’

  ‘Is that you, Howes?’ said Goodnews.

  ‘I think you’ve already worked that one out, haven’t you?’ said Howes.

  ‘What have you done with DS Slater?’

  ‘You mean your mate? He’s not very good, is he?’ said Howes. ‘Terrible really. I wouldn’t want him as my partner. Right now he seems to be sleeping on the job.’

  ‘If he’s hurt-’ began Goodnews.

  ‘He’ll have a bit of a headache when he wakes up,’ said Howes. ‘And he looks a bit pale, but that’s probably down to the loss of blood. But I don’t think you need to worry unduly, he looks as if he’s made of strong stuff. I expect he’ll be alright.’

  ‘Does he need medical attention?’ asked Goodnews. ‘Because if he does-’

  ‘Because if he does, what?’ interrupted Howes. ‘Do you seriously think I’m going to let you come in here and take him?’

  ‘So what are you going to do?’ asked Goodnews. ‘You’re surrounded by police officers. You can’t seriously think I’m going to allow you to go anywhere.’

  ‘Well now, that’s up to you,’ said Howes. ‘But I’ll tell you this; I only came down here to murder that fat pig Norman. This was just between me and him. There was no need for anyone else to get involved, but now you’ve made sure I can’t finish what I started.’

  ‘So you might as well give yourself up,’ said Goodnews. ‘It’s all over.’

  ‘Ah, but is it all over?’ said Howes. ‘To wait all this time, and go to all this trouble, and then just give up would be very disappointing, don’t you think?’

  ‘Just face up to reality,’ said Goodnews. ‘You had your chance, and you missed it.’

  ‘The thing is, I was prepared to risk getting a life sentence. I would have been happy to accept that because it would have been worth it. Now, of course, if I give myself up I’m still going to get put away for a long time, but I’ll have nothing to show for it. Somehow that doesn’t seem right to me, so I got to thinking one police officer is much the same as another, and I’ve got nothing to lose, have I?’

  Goodnews had a bad feeling about this. Howes should be seriously stressed, but he sounded very considered and reasonable. This was a bad sign.

  ‘You might have a problem with Norman,’ said Goodnews, ‘but that has nothing to do with DS Slater. How is hurting him going to help you?’

  ‘Surely you can work that one out,’ said Howes. ‘Slater is his partner and, as I understand it, they’ve become really good mates. So how do you think good old Norm, would feel if his partner died in his place?’

  Goodness felt her insides turn to ice. How the hell could she stall this madman?

  ‘What do you want, Howes?”

  ‘What are you offering?’ asked Howes.

  ‘Let me see what I can do,’ said Goodnews.

  ‘Don’t be long,’ came the reply. ‘I’m feeling quite tense, and I can get a bit impatient when I’m tense. I’ve been known to turn a bit violent, too.’

  Goodnews was thinking hard. There was no way she wanted to let this arsehole go, but she had to think about Slater. How could she get him out of there?

  There was a tap on her passenger window and she looked up to see it was Steve Biddeford. She switched off her microphone and beckoned him into the car.

  ‘I know I might be speaking out of turn,’ he said, ‘but there’s a problem, isn’t there?’

  ‘On another day you probably would be speaking out of turn,’ she said. ‘But yes, there is a problem. Our suspect is already here, and he was here before we were. Slater has just walked into a trap. As far as I can tell Howes has knocked him out.’

  ‘Crap,’ said Biddeford, looking worried.

  ‘Very deep crap,’ echoed Goodnews. ‘He’s threatening to kill Slater, instead of Norman, unless I let him get away.’

  ‘Can you do that?’ asked Biddeford.

  ‘Right now, I can’t see that I have much choice. I can’t trade Slater’s life.’

  ‘Let me go down there,’ said Biddeford.

  ‘What makes you think he would let you go down there?’

  ‘How about we get him to swap? Me for Dave.’

  ‘He definitely won’t go for that,’ said Goodnews. ‘He knows Norman and Slater are mates as well as partners. The way he sees it he might have missed the chance to kill Norman, but if he kills Slater instead, Norman will feel it was his fault and have to live with all that guilt. And anyway, why would he exchange an unconscious hostage for a conscious one?’

  ‘Bad idea, then,’ agreed Biddeford.

  ‘We need to get Slater out of there bloody quick,’ said Goodnews. ‘Howes is as mad as a box of frogs. He could go over the edge at any moment.’

  ‘So this calls for something a bit drastic, then,’ said Biddeford. “In which case, I might have a plan.’

  ‘Go on, try me,’ Goodnews hoped to God it was a good one.

  Chapter Forty

  ‘How much longer am I going to have to wait, DI Goodnews?’ asked Howes, over the radio. ‘It’s been well over an hour now and I’m getting more tense by the minute.’

  ‘I can’t arrange something like this in five minutes,’ replied Goodnews. ‘It takes time.’

  ‘I’m getting very tense.’

  ‘Half an hour. Just give me half an hour.’

  ‘You’ve got fifteen minutes,’ said Howes. ‘And then I strangle your man. If I have to wait any longer he might be awake, and then he’ll know he’s dying. I’m sure you’d much rather he went in his sleep.’

  ‘Alright, you’ve made your point,’ said Goodnews.

  She turned to Biddeford.

  ‘How much longer?’

  ‘We’re ready now,’ he said. ‘Just say the word.’

  ‘Go for it then,’ she said. ‘He’s promising to start strangling Slater in fifteen minutes.’

  ‘Okay,’ Biddeford said turning to the two police officers behind him.
‘Let’s get these masks on, then we go on my signal.’

  He pointed to the nearest officer.

  ‘You drop the bomb, and then follow us down the stairs. You’ll be looking to grab DS Slater and get him out of there as quick as you can.’

  Then he turned to the other.

  ‘You follow me inside as soon as the bomb goes off. You look after DS Slater. I’m going to take out Howes before he has time to react, okay?’

  The officer nodded. They slipped on their breathing gear and gave each other a thumbs-up.

  Biddeford and his partner went across to the stairway down to the basement while the other waited by the vent pipe. As soon as Biddeford gave him the signal, he pulled the pin from a tear gas grenade and dropped it down the vent pipe.

  Biddeford counted to three and then his partner rushed down the steps and threw himself at the door, which gave way with a crash as he piled into it. Biddeford was following close behind, carrying a massive high-powered torch. He shone the beam through the door, to reveal Tommy Howes reaching to place his hands around Slater’s neck.

  The tear gas was doing its work. He was already gasping for breath, and his eyes were streaming so badly he didn’t see Steve Biddeford coming until the 14-stone police officer crashed into him.

  He flew backwards, crashing against the wall and then to the floor, but with zero vision there was nothing he could do as the powerful Biddeford leapt upon him and began to pummel him into submission.

  It was, literally, all over in a flash. In less than two minutes, Slater had been carefully carried from the gas-filled basement and gently laid down in the fresh air, and Howes had been led away in handcuffs.

  ‘That was good thinking,’ said Goodnews to Steve Biddeford, as she watched Howes being led away.

  ‘I have my moments,’ said Biddeford.

  ‘I’m not going to embarrass you by asking you to explain how you come to have a tear gas grenade in the boot of your car,’ she said. ‘We can think about how we can explain that when we come to write the report.’

  ‘Ah. Yes,’ said Biddeford, sheepishly. ‘About that-’

  ‘I said I don’t want to know right now.’ She gave him just a hint of a smile. ‘But don’t look so worried,’ she said. ‘You’ve done well. You’ve just saved DS Slater’s life.’

  Biddeford felt slightly happier.

  ‘You’ve got a good skill set, and I’m sure you’ll go far,’ she continued. ‘But if you really want to make progress in your career you need to understand you can’t always do what you want to do. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices for the team, and it’s much better for everyone if you do it without complaining.’

  ‘Right. Thank you, Boss,’ said Biddeford. ‘I’ll try to remember that.’

  ‘Do you think you can finish off here?’ she asked. ‘I want to get to the hospital. We can worry about paperwork later.’

  ‘No problem,’ said Biddeford.

  ‘And tell everyone I’m over at the hospital. We’ll go to the pub tomorrow.’

  Chapter Forty-One

  Goodnews couldn’t remember the last time she had to visit one of her team in hospital, and yet here she was, in this tiny outpost of a town, with not one but two officers receiving treatment. Anyone would think it was a war zone.

  She found the two of them in adjoining rooms away from the main wards. She looked in on Norman but didn’t disturb him as he was in a deep sleep. The duty nurse told her he was suffering from the effects of dehydration and was likely to be here for two or three days.

  In the adjoining room, she found Slater, who, despite his protests, was going to be kept in overnight for observation. She had been told he might appear to be a bit drowsy and a bit hazy in his thoughts, but that was only to be expected after being bashed across the head, surely.

  ‘They won’t let me go home,’ he told her.

  ‘Of course they won’t’ she said. ‘This is the second time you’ve bashed your head and been brought in here. What do you expect them to do?’

  ‘But I’m fine. And I’ve got work to do.’

  ‘I’m sure I can cope without you for a day or two,’ she said. ‘Besides, I thought you hated paperwork.’

  ‘Well, yeah, I do,’ he said.

  ‘So stop whining, and do as you’re told.’

  ‘But I’m going to miss out on that pint you promised me,’ he protested.

  ‘I think I owe you bit more than a pint,’ she said.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘I let you walk into a trap,’ she said, sheepishly. ‘So I think I owe you an apology at the very least.’

  ‘There was no way you could have known he was down there waiting for me,’ he said. ‘That was down to the people at the other end not doing their jobs properly.’

  ‘Even so. I should have made sure the place was clear before I let you go down there on your own. Saying I’m sorry sounds inadequate, but I don’t know what else I can do.’

  A cheeky grin suddenly took over Slater’s face.

  ‘You could give me another kiss,’ he said, winking at her.

  ‘Oh no I bloody couldn’t,’ she snapped. ‘I’ll never be that sorry.’

  His face fell at her tone, and she couldn’t resist playing him at his own game.

  ‘Anyway that reminds me, DS Slater,’ she said. ‘We need to have a chat about your attitude towards senior officers, and particularly about the incident in the railway station.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ he said, his voice worried. Try as she might, faced with Slater’s own discomfort, Goodnews couldn’t keep a smile from creeping across her face.

  ‘Ah, right,’ said a clearly relieved Slater. ‘Nice one. You had me going there.’

  ‘I mean it,’ she said. ‘You’re far too familiar. I can’t have everyone talking to me the way you do.’

  ‘But I don’t mean to sound disrespectful,’ he explained. ‘That’s just me being me. It’s how I am.’

  ‘I understand that,’ she said. ‘But it’s something you need to watch. Don’t forget you’re setting an example to those ranks below you. We’re here to work, not flirt.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I never intended to offend you.’ he said. ‘If I’m honest I’ve enjoyed working with you, so I hope you won’t hold it against me.’

  ‘I don’t hold grudges,’ she said. ‘And you haven’t managed to offend me, but it is some advice you need to bear in mind for the future. Right?’

  ‘I feel too embarrassed to forget. Your advice is duly stored in my memory and will be recovered instantly should I ever have a woman boss again.’

  ‘That might be sooner than you think,’ she said.

  ‘Are you staying on? Tinton needs a good DI.’

  ‘Aye, you’re right there,’ she said. ‘But it’s not going to be me.’

  Slater’s eyes were beginning to close as he struggled to stay awake.

  She leaned across and put a hand on his arm.

  ‘You need to get some rest,’ she said. ‘And I need to get some sleep, too. I have to question Howes in the morning, but I’ll look in on you and Norman again tomorrow afternoon.’

  As she stood to leave, Slater spoke, stopping her in her tracks.

  ‘I’m really sorry if I offended you,’ he mumbled, drowsily. ‘But you have to admit there’s no pleasing you women, is there? You complained when you first arrived because I was behaving like I didn’t like you, and now you’ve complained because I behaved like I did like you. Maybe if we should ever be in that situation again, you could play your part a bit more enthusiasti…’

  His sentence drifted to a halt as he finally dozed off.

  ‘A bit more enthusiastically?’ She quietly finished the sentence for him, as she turned to go. ‘In your dreams…’

  Next morning, Slater was disappointed to find he wasn’t going to be allowed home yet. In fact, he was told he was unlikely to be allowed home until DI Goodnews came to collect him some time this afternoon. But he had been given permission to go next door and speak to Norma
n.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m okay,’ said Norman. ‘How are you is more to the point. You’re the one who got his head bashed in, not me.’

  ‘But I’m a tough nut to crack,’ Slater said, smiling. ‘Maybe if he’d hit me somewhere else I would have been in trouble, but back of the head? I didn’t even feel it.’

  ‘It’s all very well for you to make light of it, but it should have been me he attacked, not you. I feel bad about that.’

  ‘As he knew you would,’ said Slater. ‘That’s why he was quite happy to have me as a substitute victim.’

  ‘And I should have told you who was behind it instead of sulking just because Goodnews put my nose out of joint.’

  ‘She’s alright, Norm, really. I think you’d like working with her.”

  Norman didn’t look convinced, and changed the subject.

  ‘So how did you find me?’

  ‘We just followed the clues you left,’ said Slater.

  ‘Clues?’ said Norman. ‘I didn’t leave any clues.’

  ‘Sure you did,’ said Slater. ‘First there was the jacket.’

  ‘I lost that somewhere,’ said Norman. ‘I think I might have left it on the train.’

  ‘I thought you had done that on purpose, so we’d find it,’ said Slater.

  ‘But you would have known I caught the train from CCTV,’ said Norman.

  ‘What about the clues in the pocket?’

  ‘In the pocket?’ said Norman, looking vacant.

  ‘The piece of paper wrapped in foil,’ explained Slater. ‘It had “check the old box” written on it.’

  ‘No, sorry. You’ve got that all wrong,’ said Norman. ‘That wasn’t a clue. It was a tip I was given for the Grand National, but I never got round to checking it out, or putting a bet on.’

  ‘So you weren’t telling us to go to the old red telephone box in Little Balding?’ asked Slater.