Dave Slater Mystery Novels Box Set Three

by P. F. Ford

  The look on her face told him she hadn’t even thought about that, but it soon passed.

  ‘Seven weeks ago,’ she began, ‘my friend and neighbour Mr Dalgetty was found lying dead in his hallway. He’d had a heart attack.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Norman. ‘How old was he?’

  ‘Sixty-two. At least that’s what he said he was.’

  ‘He’s the right sort of age,’ said Slater. ‘These things can happen without warning. Did he have a problem with his heart?’

  She thought about this for a moment. ‘I know he had arthritis in his knees, but as far as I knew, he had no heart problems. He certainly never mentioned it, and I’m sure he would have. I mean, he was always going on about his knees. Anyway, the police were called and there was a post-mortem. They concluded it was a case of accidental death.’

  ‘You don’t sound convinced,’ observed Norman.

  ‘Well, I might have been,’ she said, ‘but since he died, some funny things have happened. I told the police, but they seem to think I’m round the bend. The only one who seemed to take me even slightly seriously was a young slip of a girl, although she didn’t seem to be able to help me, and then there was this other one who told me about you two.’

  Slater knew the ‘young slip of a girl’ would be DC Naomi Darling who, despite being in her twenties, still managed to look about sixteen, but he still couldn’t put a face to the mysterious male detective. He was sure he couldn’t possibly have forgotten someone who wore a pinstriped suit to work.

  ‘So what are these funny things?’ asked Norman.

  ‘Well, first of all, there was his will. He had no relatives so he left everything to me.’

  ‘Was that a surprise?’

  ‘I’ll say it was. I’d known him for over five years, and in all that time he’d given me the impression he struggled to make ends meet, yet he left me twenty-five thousand pounds! Where would he get that sort of money from? And if he had it, why live like a pauper?’

  ‘Maybe he just didn’t like to spend his money,’ suggested Slater. ‘Perhaps he preferred to keep it in the bank.’

  ‘But he didn’t trust banks. He thought they were just there to bleed us all dry. He said he only kept an account open so he could have his pension paid in to it.’

  ‘Perhaps that’s how he saved all that money.’ Norman rubbed his chin. ‘Maybe he didn’t need to touch the pension and it just grew over a few years.’

  ‘But he told me his pension was all he had. That’s why he lived so frugally.’

  ‘I understand it must have been a surprise,’ said Slater, ‘but he wouldn’t be the first person to live like that and have a small fortune stashed away somewhere.’

  ‘No.’ Rosie shook her head firmly. ‘I can’t see it. He couldn’t even afford to put the heating on half the time. No one would choose to live like that if they had money, especially when there’s no family to pass it on to.’

  ‘You must have meant a lot to him,’ said Norman.

  ‘I think I was his only friend,’ she said. ‘I used to do little jobs for him, and if his arthritis was really bad I’d get some bits for him when I was doing my own shopping, you know? The solicitor told me Joe had left it to me for my kindness, but I would have done it for any friend, I didn’t expect a reward for it.’

  ‘People have been left a lot more for doing a lot less,’ said Slater.

  ‘Yes, but the solicitor told me Joe had only made his will a couple of weeks before he died. It’s as if he knew he was going to die, and he’d set it up ready.’

  Slater glanced at Norman. He could see his partner’s interest was growing, just like his own.

  ‘You said some funny things had happened, as in more than one, Rosie,’ said Norman. ‘Tell us what else.’

  ‘A couple of weeks after he was buried, someone was in his house.’

  ‘What, you mean you saw someone?’ asked Slater.

  ‘No, I didn’t see anyone, but I know someone had been in there.’

  ‘Did you call the police?’ asked Norman.

  She sighed. ‘Yes, and a fat lot of good that was. They said the house hadn’t been broken into and as far as they could see, nothing was missing. The thing is, there’s someone going round breaking into old people’s houses and stealing cash. According to them, if anyone had been in his house, that’s who it was. They said as I couldn’t say for sure if anything was missing, and it didn’t look as if anyone had broken in, they couldn’t really do much about it.’

  ‘If there was no damage and no sign of a break-in,’ said Slater, ‘why are you so sure someone had been inside?’

  ‘Because everything had been gone through!’ Rosie fixed Slater with a piercing stare. ‘I’ve heard about this person who breaks into old people’s houses. He’s only looking for cash. He never takes anything else, and he only seems to check kitchens and bedrooms. Now, I know someone was in that house and they went everywhere.’

  ‘How can you be sure?’ asked Slater.

  Rosie drew herself up and flashed him a look that immediately made him regret opening his mouth.

  ‘When he died, I went around there and cleaned the place and made sure it was all neat and tidy. I didn’t actually take an inventory, but I know damned well someone has been in there and gone through everything!’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Slater. ‘I’m not trying to suggest you don’t know what you’re talking abou—’

  ‘I had enough of this with the police,’ she said. ‘I was hoping you might be prepared to hear me out.’

  ‘We are prepared to listen, Rosie,’ said Norman, soothingly, ‘but you have to understand – we need to ask questions too. We just want to make sure we don’t miss anything. I’m sorry if that means we sound a little like the police, but that is where we did our training. I promise you, we’re not trying to question what you say. We just like to be thorough, and that’s why we’re pretty good at what we do. That’s why you came to us, right?’

  This seemed to placate her, and she visibly relaxed.

  ‘Has anything else happened we should know about?’ continued Norman.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘My own house was broken into just last week.’

  ‘Jeez,’ said Norman. ‘Did they do much damage?’

  ‘Well. . .’ Rosie’s cheeks went slightly pink. ‘When I say someone broke in, what I really mean is – someone let themselves in.’

  ‘Ah!’ said Slater. ‘You leave a key outside?’

  She nodded her head and sighed. ‘Under a flowerpot by the back door,’ she admitted. ‘And I know what you’re going to say, so spare me the lecture.’

  ‘Did you call the police?’

  ‘I did, and they told me the same thing about this man who steals from pensioners again. I said I thought it was too much of a coincidence, but they just reminded me what they had told me before. When I pointed out there was cash in the kitchen drawer that hadn’t been touched, they insisted I must have disturbed the burglar before he got that far. That seemed a bit funny to me because whoever had been in there had been inside long enough to go through all my drawers and cupboards upstairs. But then I’m just a stupid old woman. What do I know?’

  ‘Is that when this other officer told you to contact us?’ asked Slater.

  Rosie nodded. ‘Yes, that’s right. That ignorant detective sergeant. . . Biddeford, is it? He seemed to think I was just wasting his precious time. I think it was beneath his dignity to use his breath on the likes of a silly old fool like me, and it was obvious he thought they should be doing something much more important. The nice man came next day and told me they couldn’t do anything because their hands were tied, whatever that meant, but then he said I should come and see you two.’

  ‘Did you get his name?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. I’m not sure he ever actually mentioned it.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Norman. ‘Not to worry. I’m sure we’ll be able to find him. If he made a special journey to see you, he must think t
here’s something worth looking into.’

  ‘What about you, Mr Norman, and you, Mr Slater?’ Rosie looked at each in turn. ‘Do you think there’s something worth looking into? I can pay, you know. I’ve got a spare twenty-five thousand pounds, and I want to know what’s going on.’

  Slater looked at Norman. Like everything else to do with how their business was going to work, what they were going to charge was something they hadn’t actually discussed yet.

  ‘Err, well, look, let’s not worry about costs just yet,’ said Norman, hastily. He looked at Slater, who nodded his approval. ‘If this other police officer thinks there’s more to this than meets the eye, I think we’re both inclined to think we should take a look. But first we need to understand this other officer’s suspicions.’

  ‘It’ll be useful if he can give us some insight into this guy who’s stealing cash from old folks too,’ said Slater. ‘If what he can tell us backs up what you’ve told us about the person who broke into your house and your friend’s house, then I think we’ve got somewhere to start.’

  For the first time since she had come into the pub, Rosie smiled. ‘Thank you both for listening to me and not making me feel like a silly old fool who’s just wasting your time,’ she said. ‘What happens now?’

  ‘We’ll try to arrange a meeting with this officer as soon as we can,’ said Norman. ‘If you can let us have your address and phone number, we’ll get in touch as soon as we’ve spoken to him.’

  She stood, ready to leave, and they stood with her.

  ‘There is one more thing I’d like to ask,’ said Slater. ‘Did Joe ever ask you to look after anything for him?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ she said, thoughtfully. ‘No, I’m sure he didn’t.’

  He gave her a reassuring smile. ‘Okay. Not to worry.’

  ‘We’ll be in touch in a day or two,’ said Norman, as he ushered her back out through the pub and onto the street.

  ***

  ‘Are we actually ready to take on a job?’ asked Slater, once Rosie was gone and Norman was back in his seat. ‘I mean the paint’s barely dry, and we’ve got no computers or anything—’

  ‘And basically we have no idea how anything’s going to work because we haven’t actually discussed it yet,’ finished Norman, pointedly.

  ‘Well, yeah, and that too,’ agreed Slater, sheepishly.

  When the idea of setting up in business together had first been suggested, it had seemed like a great idea, but Slater’s initial enthusiasm had quickly faded, and now he’d had time to think about it, he wasn’t so sure it really was what he wanted to commit to. As a result, he was feeling extremely guilty. If he didn’t join Norm, he felt he would be letting him down, but if he did join him and then found he didn’t like it, he’d be letting him down again. Which was worse? It was a real dilemma.

  ‘Having said all that,’ said Norman, ‘I think it would be wrong to turn a job down. We can still ask questions, and we have your laptop. We’ll be fine, you’ll see.’

  Slater wasn’t convinced, but before he had a chance to voice his concerns, Norman spoke again.

  ‘Have you any idea who this detective in the pinstriped suit is?’

  ‘Not a clue,’ said Slater. ‘The only thing I can think is that they’ve drafted someone in from Merryton while they’re closing Tinton down, but even then, I thought I knew everyone from over there, and I’m sure no one wears a pinstriped suit.’

  ‘Let me see if I can get hold of Naomi.’ Norman reached for his mobile phone. ‘Maybe she can tell us who this guy is.’

  DC Naomi Darling, the ‘slip of a girl’ Rosie had mentioned earlier, was a former colleague of Slater and Norman and seemed to be the only person at their old station who didn’t resent the two of them. She was usually happy to offer them help if she could.

  While Norman called Darling, Slater went across to the bar and bought two more pints. As he walked back to their table, he could see a frown creasing Norman’s face as he spoke into his phone.

  ‘Naomi asks if we’re sure Rosie’s not senile,’ said Norman, as he ended the call and placed his phone back on the table.

  Slater’s only response was to raise a single eyebrow.

  ‘She says she’s never seen anyone over there dressed in anything that could even vaguely be described as smart, or a suit, and certainly not in pinstripes. And, no, they haven’t had anyone drafted in from anywhere else.’

  ‘Rosie seemed to have a full set of marbles to me,’ said Slater.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Norman. ‘I thought so too, so I wonder who this guy is?’

  ‘It’s going to be a bit difficult to find out what he knows if we don’t even know who he is.’

  ‘Yeah,’ agreed Norman. ‘The pinstripe guy does seem to be a bit of a mystery, but Naomi assures me there’s only been her and Biddeford involved so she doesn’t see how anyone else could have known what to say to Rosie.’

  ‘Are we starting off in the dark then?’ asked Slater.

  Norman smiled. ‘I thought of that, and I’ve got it covered. Naomi’s going to come over later and fill us in with what she knows.’

  ‘You’d better go and find your wallet then, because Naomi drinks like a fish and I’ve just paid for lunch, so you’ll be buying later.’

  Chapter Two

  ‘And you’re sure you and Biddeford are the only ones who know about Rosie and Joe?’

  Slater watched as Naomi Darling took a mouthful of beer and placed her pint glass down on the table. He had never quite got used to the idea of such a tiny girl drinking pints, and he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

  ‘Of course I’m sure,’ she said. ‘The only other person who would know anything is the Wicked Witch of the North, and no one could mistake that evil cow for a nice-mannered man in a pinstripe suit, could they?’

  The evil cow she was referring to was her boss, DCI Marion Goodnews, who had initially been heralded as some sort of living legend, but then, bit by bit, the gloss had begun to chip away until she was finally revealed to be an evil-tempered, manipulative control freak, as far as Slater was concerned.

  The mention of Goodnews had reminded them all of someone they’d rather forget for varying reasons. In Darling’s case, she had been more or less hung out to dry by her boss when she had been falsely accused of assault. In Norman’s case, it had been DCI Goodnews who had ensured he was forced to retire on the grounds of ill health. In Slater’s case, an ill-advised relationship he should have known better than to get involved in had been the final straw that had led to his decision to leave the force. Neither man could come up with a reason to disagree with Darling’s assessment of their former boss, so instead, they settled for taking a drink.

  ‘So, what can you tell us about the person who’s robbing pensioners?’ asked Norman.

  Darling considered the question for a moment. ‘I can’t tell you much for definite,’ she said, ‘because whoever this person is, he’s clever, and he’s obviously put some thought into what he’s doing. For instance, he knows not to take anything that might be easily traceable. He only ever takes cash, and he doesn’t hang around. We think he’s figured out his victims tend to keep cash in a kitchen drawer, or the bedroom, so that’s all he bothers to check. He never enters a house when there’s someone inside, which on the one hand is good, because he’s never hurt anyone, but then it’s also not so good, because no one’s ever seen him. We think he’s also in and out in less than five minutes, and if he doesn’t find what he’s looking for in that time, he just leaves empty-handed.’

  ‘Wow!’ said Norman. ‘It must take a lot of discipline to resist turning a house upside down once you’ve got inside and you know there’s no one in there.’

  ‘Yeah,’ agreed Slater. ‘To me, it sounds like someone who’s been round the block a few times and learnt some lessons. It sounds like you’re convinced it’s a man, so I take it you’re looking for someone middle-aged?’

  Darling chuckled quietly and gave him a sympathetic lo
ok. ‘Now that’s exactly what Goodnews and Biddeford think. They’ve put together what they rather grandly call’—she made quote marks in the air with her fingers—‘“a profile”. In reality, of course, it’s just a guess based on a hunch.’

  Slater didn’t much appreciate Darling’s condescending attitude towards him, and he bridled at her considering him on par with those two, but he swallowed back his thoughts and kept them to himself.

  ‘So, what do you think, Naomi?’ asked Norman. ‘Who would fit your profile?’

  ‘Mine’s a guess too, if I’m honest, and I don’t know if it’s any better than theirs, but at least I haven’t just plucked an idea out of thin air. Based on a couple of witness statements, even if they are rather vague and uncorroborated, my best guess is it’s a young male, late teens to early twenties.’

  She stopped to take a sip from her drink. Slater was verging on apoplectic by now. Cheeky cow. Who did she think she was? He hadn’t just ‘plucked an idea out of thin air’, he’d based it on what she had just told them.

  ‘And you’re sure about this, are you?’ he asked. ‘Only in my experience, kids that age tend to be tearaways, trashing houses without a thought for any damage they might do, or any distress they might cause.’

  She gave him a sweet smile but didn’t say anything. He thought she seemed amused that she’d managed to push his buttons quite so easily. But then perhaps it was just that he still felt guilty about what had happened to her and how he hadn’t got off his arse and helped her when he could have. Maybe she wasn’t deliberately winding him up, but even if she was, could he really blame her? He decided to let it go; after all, he was supposed to be a big boy now, and she had come here to offer them help.

  ‘Is there anything else you can tell us?’ asked Norman.

  ‘That’s about it,’ she said. ‘After twelve confirmed robberies, and another three where we think he broke in and took nothing, we believe it might be a middle-aged guy, but then again it could be a young man. Then again, we have no definite sightings, so he could even be a she!’