Dave Slater Mystery Novels Box Set Two

by Ford, P. F.

  ‘You became friends?’ asked Norman.

  ‘We had a common interest in historical fiction. He asked me to recommend some books, then we had lunch together, and before I knew it we were lovers. It was crazy, I know, but it was a bit like being on a runaway train. I just couldn’t stop it.’

  ‘But you did in the end?’ prompted Norman.

  ‘Had to,’ she said. ‘My husband found out.’

  ‘How did he react?’ asked Slater.

  She sighed. ‘How do you think? Let’s just say I was given an ultimatum that I couldn’t turn down. I told Morgan it was over, quit my job at the library, and didn’t see him again.’

  ‘And that was it?’ asked Norman.

  ‘I heard he went off to Afghanistan not long after, but once I left the library, I lost touch with what was going on. I suppose I did it deliberately, but the temptation was always there in the background. Then, a year ago, my husband was offered the opportunity to come and work here. He said it would be a chance for a fresh start, so we moved. After that it really was impossible to find out anything about Morgan, so I tried to forget it had ever happened. I focused on repairing my marriage and trying to be a better wife.’

  Slater was struggling to see how having an affair with Coulter could possibly fit in with the idea of being a better wife, but he managed to suppress the desire to ask the question.

  ‘Do you have any idea why Morgan would have come to Tinton?’ asked Norman.

  ‘Oh yes,’ she said. ‘He was looking for me.’

  ‘But I thought that was all over, years ago,’ said Slater.

  ‘He called me about a month ago, right out of the blue. I couldn’t believe it. God only knows how he found where we were living. He said he was completely messed up. He wanted to come and see me. He said I was the only person he felt he could trust.’

  ‘Why? What had happened?’ asked Norman.

  ‘What he told me was a bit sketchy, to say the least, but I think something terrible happened. I suppose it’s more or less inevitable in his line of work. They spend ages on psychological tests before they join up, but in the end it doesn’t matter how much psychological profiling they do, you never know for sure what might push someone over the edge. It appears whatever happened this time was enough to push him past his breaking point.

  ‘When I spoke to him he didn’t sound anything like the old Morgan I knew. It was as if he’d lost all his confidence. He sounded a hundred years old, but he wasn’t even forty. He kept saying he was going to try to make amends, whatever that meant.’

  She looked even more drained now, and her eyes were filling with tears. ‘He said he would call again when he arrived in Tinton. I waited and waited but he didn’t call, and then the next thing I know there’s one of those computer images in the local newspaper and a headline above it asking “Do you know this man”?’

  ‘But you didn’t come forward?’ asked Norman.

  ‘It might not have been him,’ she said, unconvincingly, ‘and I had to think of my husband. I didn’t want to drag that up all over again.’

  This time, Slater couldn’t help himself. ‘Of course not. Not when everything is obviously going so well between you.’

  Clara Sterling glared at him. ‘Don’t judge what you don’t understand,’ she snapped.

  Norman shot him an uncharacteristic angry glance. It was enough to stop his retort before it left his mouth.

  ‘Leaving the flowers was taking a risk,’ said Norman, clearly trying to draw her attention away from Slater and his judgemental comment. ‘Anyone could have seen you.’

  ‘I was careful. I made sure the service was long over and no one was around. I didn’t spot the CCTV in the church car park.’

  ‘There isn’t any there,’ said Norman. ‘You were caught on a camera at the front of the restaurant just across the road.’

  ‘Ha! Well, that’s just typical of my luck,’ she said, defeat heavy in her voice.

  ‘Going back to what Morgan told you about trying to make amends,’ said Slater, carefully. ‘Do you have any idea what that might have meant? Did he mean he had to come to Tinton to do whatever it was?’

  ‘I haven’t a clue. All he said was, “I’m going to do my best to make amends”. He said it several times, but he didn’t go into any details about what exactly that meant.’

  ‘Well, if he was coming to see you, at least now we have a reason for him coming here,’ said Norman. ‘Up until now, it had seemed like a random decision, but this makes a bit more sense. I just wish we knew what had happened that he needed to make amends for.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’ve told you all I can. I really don’t think I can help you any further.’

  Slater looked across at Norman, who nodded his head and began to rise from his chair.

  ‘Thank you very much,’ said Slater, getting to his feet. ‘You’ve been very helpful. I must apologise for any offence I may have caused. You’re quite right, I shouldn’t judge without knowing all the facts.’

  ‘I should give up on the grovelling sincerity, Mr Slater,’ she said. ‘It really doesn’t suit you, and I don’t believe it any more than you do.’

  His face reddened, but he chose not to comment. He knew she was right.

  ‘What did you make of that?’ asked Slater, as Norman drove the car away from her house.

  ‘What did I make of what?’ asked Norman. ‘You trying to piss her off? She could easily have called a halt right there and then and thrown us out. Did you think of that?’

  ‘I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. I mean, she knows we know about Coulter and yet she comes out with all that bollocks about repairing her marriage, and how she had to think of her husband . . .’

  ‘I know. I was there,’ said Norman. ‘But we have to keep our opinions to ourselves, don’t we? Jeez, how long have you been doing this?’

  ‘Alright, alright, I was in the wrong,’ admitted Slater. ‘I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I just hate people being so bloody hypocritical.’

  At this point, Slater would normally have gone off into a sulk, but that was before. Now he was a different person – he was determined to make sure it didn’t happen.

  ‘Anyway,’ he said, taking a deep breath, ‘As I said, what did you think?’

  ‘I think that woman’s a terrible hypocrite,’ said Norman, with a wicked grin.

  Slater gave him a sideways look and caught the grin. ‘Yeah, right,’ he said, grinning himself.

  ‘I think she knows more than she’s letting on,’ said Norman, ‘but I’m not sure what about. Does that make sense?’

  ‘That’s exactly what I was thinking. I’m sure she’s telling the truth about Morgan, so I wonder what it is she’s not telling us about?’

  ‘It could be anything,’ said Norman. ‘But we know Coulter’s around, and that’s enough to make me think I should put all my money on him.’

  ‘You think he’s blackmailing her?’

  ‘I certainly wouldn’t put it past him. The thing is, do we want to know? I mean, we could waste a lot of time poking around only to find she actually wants to be his bit on the side.’

  ‘Nah,’ said Slater. ‘She’s way too classy to choose to be with a creep like him. She could do so much better if she wanted.’

  ‘Maybe she likes a bit of rough,’ said Norman. ‘Let’s face it, there must even be a woman somewhere who would even go for a guy like you.’

  ‘Oh, don’t you worry,’ said Slater, rising easily to the bait, ‘I’ve got them knocking on my door, mate.’

  ‘Oh really?’ said Norman, glancing across at Slater. ‘Now that is interesting. Are you going to tell me who these women are?’

  Slater blushed, guiltily.

  ‘Jeez, you really have? Why would you be embarrassed about that? Oh no, it’s not a married woman is it? And you’ve just been complaining about hypocrites . . .’

  ‘No, it’s not a bloody married woman,’ said Slater, testily, ‘and I am not a hypocrite. Now ca
n we get back to this case?’

  ‘Ooh,’ said Norman, obviously enjoying playing Slater, as usual. ‘I wonder – if I push one more button, do you think it will give us lift-off?’

  ‘I’m not going to give you the satisfaction,’ said Slater. ‘I know what you’re trying to do, and I’m not playing your game. Now, can we get back to the subject that’s really interesting?’

  ‘But this is interesting,’ said Norman.

  ‘Trust me, it’s not.’

  Norman glanced across at Slater and gave him a calculated look before nodding. ‘But we’re no further forward, are we? I mean, we’ve got two murders and no motive for either of them. Apart from them both being homeless, the only connection seems to be one was in the SAS and the other was an SAS wannabee, if that is a connection.’

  ‘I still don’t get why Doddsy’s sleeves had been cut off. That seems to be a bit unnecessary, especially if it was a hit-and-run. Why would the driver get out of the car and remove the guy’s sleeves?’

  ‘But it wasn’t a hit-and-run in the strictest sense, was it? Okay, the guy was run down, but it didn’t look like an accident to me, especially if you believe some of what Doddsy said. It was more like someone used their car to knock him down, and then when he was lying in the road, they questioned him and cut off his sleeves.’

  ‘Yeah, but why the sleeves? There were no marks on his arms, so it’s not as if they were cutting him or anything.’

  ‘Maybe they were looking to see if he shoots up,’ suggested Norman. ‘Biddeford said he was high as a kite, right? Maybe they injected him.’

  ‘You spoke to Doddsy before he died,’ said Slater. ‘Did he sound as if he was off his head?’

  ‘He did come out with all that crap about three guys jumping on him from nowhere,’ recalled Norman, ‘but then he always embroidered everything with an amount of exaggeration.’

  ‘So that wasn’t unusual, then?’

  ‘Very normal, now I come to think about it. He did smell of booze, but that wasn’t unusual either.’

  ‘We need to find out if he really was high,’ said Slater.

  ‘You’re the one who knows the pathologist.’

  ‘Yeah, I do, but I wonder how many times I can get away with asking him before he says no or gets in the shit.’

  ‘The police aren’t interested in this case, are they? So why would they care if you speak to Eamon?’

  ‘I just don’t want to push him too far.’

  ‘So ask him,’ said Norman. ‘Be honest. I have no more desire to screw up his position than you do, but he can help us with this.’

  ‘Alright,’ said Slater. ‘I’ll check with him in the morning.’

  ‘And I’ll see if I can find out what Coulter’s up to. Maybe if I can find out what he was ranting about earlier it might help.’

  ‘You mean about his son being in Afghanistan?’ said Slater. ‘You think his son was SAS? You don’t have to be one of those guys to get sent there, you know. There can’t be many people in the forces who haven’t been sent there.’

  ‘Yeah, I know,’ said Norman. ‘It’s probably just a coincidence, but it’s worth a shot. I think I still have one friend in the Met who might be able to help me out.’

  ‘Okay, let’s meet up at my place around lunchtime.’

  Chapter Fifty-One

  It was just after midday when Norman arrived at Slater’s house. He had gone through Slater’s kitchen cupboards, and to his dismay, found nothing worth eating, so, at his insistence, they were now in his favourite pub. And, at his insistence, they had finished lunch before they got down to business.

  ‘Did Eamon come up with anything interesting?’ he asked Slater.

  ‘He says Doddsy had booze in his system, but not a great deal, and he definitely wasn’t off his head on any drugs, unless there’s some new undetectable drug they’ve never seen before.’

  ‘So Steve Biddeford gave us a load of bullshit about that,’ said Norman, thoughtfully. ‘Why would he do that?’

  ‘Because he doesn’t want to waste his time on trivialities like homeless people,’ suggested Slater, grimly. ‘Perhaps he thinks they’re a waste of space, and a waste of his time.’

  ‘Jeez, you really think so?’

  ‘I’m afraid he’s never had much time for anyone he regards as lower class.’

  ‘Do you think Goodnews knows about this?’

  ‘How would I know?’ asked Slater, evasively. ‘What makes you think I’ve spoken to her?’

  Norman looked at Slater thoughtfully. ‘Nothing. I wasn’t suggesting you’ve been discussing the case with her, it’s just that you know how she works. Would she take his word for it? Or would she check all the reports herself?’

  ‘Up until a couple of months ago, she would have made the time to read those reports,’ said Slater. ‘But now she’s under so much pressure from above, I don’t know. Last time I spoke to her she said her job was on the line. That should mean she’s being extra careful.’

  ‘Yeah, but then again, she’s never been under real pressure before, has she? Suppose she’s cracking under the strain and struggling to cope with it all?’

  ‘You think?’

  ‘Hell, who knows what strange decisions she might make in those circumstances.’ Norman shrugged. ‘Maybe Biddeford’s taking advantage of the situation to pull the wool over her eyes because it’s a case he doesn’t want to have to deal with.’

  ‘D’you think he’d do that? She’s just got him promoted. What about loyalty?’

  ‘Aw come on, Dave. You, of all people, should know his only loyalty is to himself. It’s as if you look at him through rose-tinted glasses. Maybe you need to take them off for once and take a look at the real Steve Biddeford.’

  ‘You really think he’s that bad?’

  ‘I think you always give him the benefit of the doubt because you trained him,’ said Norman.

  ‘I didn’t train him to be like that,’ said Slater.

  ‘I know you didn’t, but he’s no longer under your influence. Now he’s been let off the leash, his true colours are really showing.’

  ‘So what do you suggest we do?’

  ‘About Biddeford? Nothing,’ said Norman. ‘Who’s gonna listen to us? I suggest we solve this case ourselves, then maybe we can take the evidence to Goodnews. He’s her problem, let her sort him out.’

  Slater could see his life suddenly getting a whole lot more complicated than he wanted it to be. There was just no way he could keep her a secret from Norm much longer, and somehow he couldn’t see her taking too kindly to him and Norm interfering in her investigations. It was going to be a nightmare.

  ‘Are you okay?’ asked Norman. ‘You look like you found a fiver and lost a twenty.’

  ‘Err, yeah. I’m just a bit disappointed about Steve, that’s all,’ said Slater, hurriedly, unable to think of anything better to say.

  ‘It’s not your fault. Like I said, let Goodnews deal with the problem. She deserves it.’ He smiled happily, clearly enjoying the thought of Goodnews having to deal with problems.

  ‘Yeah, right,’ said Slater, unhappily. He wondered how he was going to sort this mess out. At the moment, Norm knew nothing about his relationship with Marion Goodnews, and she knew nothing about him working with Norm. One thing was sure: he was going to have to put a lot of thought into how he broached the subject with either of them.

  ‘Did you manage to get hold of your friend in the Met?’ he asked, glad to have something else to think about.

  ‘Yes, I did,’ said Norman.

  ‘Did he have any info about Coulter?’

  ‘Oh, it was a very enlightening conversation. I’m not exactly sure how it helps us, but I’m sure he’s involved somehow. We just have to figure out how.’

  ‘Let’s hear it then.’

  ‘First, a little background on Coulter,’ said Norman. ‘He’s sixty-two years old, born in North London. His father was a well-known thug who used to run his own gang until he got too big for h
is boots and bit off more than he could chew. He took part in an armed bank raid, in the middle of the day. A woman customer in the bank took a shotgun blast at close range. She died on the spot. Every witness testified Coulter pulled the trigger. Even the other members of the gang who were caught all agreed Coulter was the shooter. In fact, it turned out he was the only one with a gun!’

  ‘So he got put away,’ said Slater.

  ‘For life. He was fifty-five then, and it happened thirty-five years ago, so in his case it really was life. He died inside, ten years ago.’

  ‘So what happened to young Stanley?’ asked Slater.

  ‘He was twenty-seven when his old man got put away. He was part of the gang, but on the periphery. It seems no one thought he was really interested in being a serious criminal, but as soon as his father was out of the way, he showed them what they had been missing. It turns out he was a much nastier bastard than his father ever was, and he had no trouble taking over.

  ‘Up until then, they’d been pretty small time, but Stan had been studying what made real money and how to hide the truth. He introduced some much subtler crimes and the gang began to make serious money. He even managed to make it look, from the outside, as if they’re legit, and that’s why he claims to be a legitimate businessman right now, even though he knows I know he isn’t.’

  ‘What about the personal stuff, like his own family?’

  ‘He has three sons,’ said Norman. ‘The oldest is his right-hand man. He oversees the day-to-day running of the business. Son number two is the one who disowned the family when he finally realised just how bent they are. He joined the army, and later the SAS. He died in Afghanistan just over a year ago.’

  ‘Now that’s interesting.’ Slater leaned forward.

  ‘Isn’t it?’ agreed Norman. ‘It has to be more than a coincidence that the SAS keeps cropping up, don’t you think?’

  ‘Must be. But how?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s the problem,’ said Norman. ‘But at least I think we may be starting to make some progress.’

  ‘What about son number three?’ asked Slater.

  ‘Apparently he’s in a pretty bad way. Some sort of illness. The word is he’s in a private hospital or nursing home down this way somewhere, and Stan Coulter spends a lot of time down here.’