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Dave Slater Mystery Novels Box Set Three

Page 8

by P. F. Ford


  ‘And I suppose you’ve been in touch with him ever since I got back.’

  ‘I couldn’t possibly say,’ said Norman with a wink.

  ‘You crafty old sod,’ said Slater, affectionately.

  Norman turned to Watson. ‘You’ll have to excuse the future DI Slater’s language. He’s not always like this. Usually he’s much worse.’

  ‘I don’t suppose for one minute he’s as bad as you say,’ she said with a smile ‘And anyway, I went to a private girls’ school, so I’m sure he doesn’t know any words I haven’t heard before.’

  ‘So, are you going to be my DS if I take this job?’ asked Slater.

  ‘That’s my wish,’ she said, flexing her knee, and sitting up straighter. ‘At the moment, I’m afraid I’m just your backroom support staff. I’ve not been able to get around so well since I stopped a bullet with my left knee. I wouldn’t recommend it, unless you really want your knee smashed to pieces. They’ve done a good job of replacing it – I’m a bit like the bionic woman now, or at least my knee is – but we won’t know if it’s working properly for a few more weeks.’

  ‘So you do need the stick, then?’ asked Slater, guiltily.

  She looked scornfully at the stick which lay on the floor next to her chair. ‘The medical people insist I have to use it,’ she said, ‘but I’m quite sure I don’t really need it anymore. I think the knee’s perfect just now, but they insist everything has to be done to their timetable, and I daren’t step out of line.

  ‘I was actually invalided out because of it, but the boss thought it was a waste of a good brain, so when he got the go-ahead for this new squad he brought me back in and even gave me my rank back. He said, at the time, that I might not be any good out on the street, but I’m bloody good with paperwork, which I’m sure you probably hate, and I’m pretty hot with computers. And then I got the chance to have the bionic replacement, so I’m ever hopeful.’

  ‘Is that why Bradshaw calls you Watson?’ asked Norman.

  Slater had been puzzling over this as well, but the penny had yet to drop.

  ‘Oh, come on, Dave!’ Norman started chuckling. ‘It’s obvious.’

  ‘Not to me,’ said Slater.

  Watson was grinning at both of them. ‘It’s because I’m very good at working with HOLMES,’ she explained.

  It took a couple of seconds, and then Slater’s face broke into a smile. ‘Ah! Right. Yeah, of course.’ he said. ‘I get it.’

  HOLMES – or Home Office Large Major Enquiry System – was an IT system police forces used to co-ordinate major crime investigations.

  ‘I’m quite useful with other systems too,’ she explained. ‘I’ve had plenty of time to learn how to use them all while I’ve been deskbound.’

  ‘So now we’re all on the same page, how exactly are you going to help us?’ asked Norman

  ‘I understand you’ve been trying to use a laptop and the internet to access information,’ she said.

  ‘Trying is the word,’ said Slater. ‘It’s a bloody nightmare.’

  ‘Yes, I know. I’ve tried it myself. But you don’t need to worry about that now.’ Watson patted the enormous suitcase she had kept close by. ‘I have in my possession a force laptop with access to all the usual databases, and one or two you wouldn’t normally have access to. It’s not lightning fast, but it’ll do for now. I’ve been sent here to do all your background research so you can focus on what you do best.’

  ‘But why would he send you here to do that?’ asked Slater.

  ‘To remind you what you’re missing, technology-wise,’ said Norman. ‘And so you can get to know young Watson here.’

  Watson nodded enthusiastically. ‘And as well as being here to show you what I can do, and remind you what the equipment can do, I’m also here to answer any questions you might have about the job you’ve been offered and how we operate.’

  ‘Bradshaw’s got a lot of trust in you, hasn’t he?’ asked Slater.

  ‘Chief Superintendent Bradshaw is a brilliant boss,’ she said. ‘He trusts me, and I trust him. Granted, he can come across as a bit of a twit sometimes, but he’s the best I’ve ever worked for.’

  ‘Well, I suppose now you’re here it would be churlish to turn you away,’ said Slater. ‘So, what do you need to get set up? We’re a bit short on furniture at the moment, but we’ve got a couple of workstations. You can use one of those if you like.’

  She took one look at the workstations Slater indicated and wrinkled her nose.

  ‘I’m afraid I need a bit more room than that,’ she said, looking around. ‘Don’t you have any desks?’

  ‘Err, not yet,’ admitted Norman. ‘It’s on my “to do” list.’

  ‘Do you need that door through to the kitchen?’ she asked.

  ‘Sorry?’ Slater followed her gaze to the kitchen door.

  ‘If you take it off, we could lay it between the two workstations. It’ll be just about big enough for what I need.’

  ‘And where do we work?’

  ‘Well,’ replied Watson, ‘if you’re really that desperate for a desk, you could always go out and buy one, but surely you can manage without, can’t you? I was working on the assumption you wouldn’t actually be doing a lot of paperwork, and with me doing the donkey work here, I assumed you two would be out conducting interviews and things.’

  ‘I was just starting to get used to the idea of me and Norm having to do everything,’ said Slater.

  ‘But you won’t have to if you come back t—’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Watson,’ said Slater. ‘I think you can rest assured I’ve got the idea now.’

  ‘Righto. Sorry, sir. Message understood.’

  Slater could hear Norman chuckling in the background.

  It didn’t take him long to remove the kitchen door, take the handle off, and set it between the two workstations to create what was effectively a desk about six and a half feet long.

  ‘It’ll do for now,’ Watson had assured them. ‘I’ve worked with a lot worse, I can assure you. Now, why don’t you two go and find something useful to do while I get set up? Just leave your case file for me so I can get started.’

  ‘Case file?’ said Norman.

  ‘You must have something,’ she said. ‘What about some interview notes?’

  ‘Notes?’ repeated Norman.

  ‘What? Nothing at all?’ She looked appalled. ‘This is even worse than I expected!’

  ‘I’ve got the notes I took at Rosie’s the other day,’ said Slater. ‘I just haven’t got round to writing them up yet.’

  She sighed and gave him the sort of look a nursery teacher might give a naughty boy.

  ‘I should make you both stand in the corner,’ she said, ‘but I suspect it’s probably a bit late to try and change your ways now. Are your notes legible?’

  ‘I think so,’ said Slater. ‘I’ll get them for you.’

  ‘I can do all the paperwork you want back in the office, but I can’t follow you around taking notes so, in future, you’ll have to make any notes legible if you want me to turn them into anything useful for an investigation.’

  ‘Right,’ said Slater, handing his notes to her. ‘I’ll bear that in mind. Could you just remind me which one of us is going to be the DI?’

  She opened her mouth to speak, but then saw the smile on his face and grinned back at him instead.

  ***

  Having no particular activity in mind, the boys had decided to walk to the nearest coffee shop to get some decent coffee and cakes to try to make Watson feel a little more welcome.

  ‘So, what do you think?’ asked Norman, as they walked.

  ‘What? You mean Watson? She’s a bit jolly hockey sticks,’ said Slater.

  ‘Don’t tell me you’re going to let your inner inverted snob speak for you?’

  ‘I’m not a snob, inverted or otherwise,’ said Slater, indignantly. ‘I’m just saying she speaks a bit posh, that’s all. But I suppose it makes her a good match for Bradshaw. He’s definite
ly an old-school-tie guy.’

  ‘There you go again, judging people just because of the way they speak. I promise you Robin’s a good guy. You can tell that from the way Watson talks about him. You don’t get that sort of praise if you’re an arsehole, right?’

  ‘Fair comment,’ said Slater.

  ‘Don’t hold it against him because he comes from a family with money,’ said Norman. ‘It’s not his fault, any more than it’s my fault I grew up in a terraced street in a shabby part of London.’

  ‘Actually, I think Watson’s all right,’ said Slater, ‘although her efficiency’s a bit scary!’

  Norman laughed. ‘Yeah, she’ll soon knock you into shape. I can just see you standing in the corner with that dunce’s cap on your head.’

  Slater smiled. ‘Don’t joke about it. She’s probably serious!’

  They walked on in silence for a few more yards before Slater spoke again. ‘I wonder how she came to get her knee blown apart?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s a shame,’ said Norman. ‘I suspect she was a pretty good detective before that. Mind you, I reckon she’s gotta be shit-hot on the computers. Robin wouldn’t have her in his team just because he felt sorry for her. He doesn’t believe in carrying passengers. Anyway, when I asked what do you think, I wasn’t asking about Watson. I was referring to the job you’ve been offered.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s what I thought you meant,’ said Slater.

  Norman waited patiently for Slater to expand on his answer, but that appeared to be it.

  ‘Jesus, it’s like pulling teeth, talking to you sometimes.’

  ‘What?’

  Norman sighed. ‘This job offer. Are you going to take it or not?’

  ‘Are you trying to tell me something? Don’t you want me around?’ asked Slater.

  ‘Aw, come on, Dave, don’t be an arse. You know I like having you around. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, but that won’t change if you’re working somewhere different, will it? I’d rather have a happy friend I don’t see very often, than have to put up with an unhappy friend under my feet all the time.’

  Slater looked at Norman and smiled. ‘You have such a way with words, you know that? So, what you’re saying is, I’m miserable and I’m under your feet, is that it?’

  ‘Now you’re just being deliberately obtuse. You know damned well that’s not what I mean. I just think working with me would make you unhappy. It worked in the police because there were always other people to do all the stuff I didn’t want to do and to clear up behind me. You won’t want to do that, and I don’t want you to have to do it.’

  ‘I hear what you’re saying,’ said Slater, ‘but, I’ll have you know I’m feeling pretty happy and content right now, and there’s not a police force in sight.’

  ‘Yeah, I’ve noticed, but that’s because you have Jenny in your life. It has nothing to do with working with me.’

  Slater thought about this as they entered the coffee shop. Perhaps Norman was right about the effect Jenny was having on his life.

  ***

  ‘What exactly do you know about this Joe Dalgetty character?’ asked Watson when they got back to the office.

  ‘How do you mean?’ asked Norman. ‘All we really know is he died, the police thought there was nothing suspicious about it, but his neighbour thinks there’s a lot suspicious about it.’

  ‘And so does your boss,’ added Slater, pointedly. ‘He sent Rosie to us, so he must know something. Perhaps you already know more than we do?’

  Watson looked him straight in the eye. ‘Well, that’s all news to me. I can assure you – if he does know anything, he hasn’t told me about it.’

  They held eye contact for a few seconds, then Slater spoke again.

  ‘It’s like Norm said, except we also know his rent is still being paid, which is a bit of a surprise as he’s never taken any money from his bank account. Oh, and he managed to give his solicitor twenty-five grand, in cash, for him to give to Rosie when he died.’

  ‘The plot thickens, then,’ she said, ‘because, according to the records I’ve managed to find, there’s no such person as Joe Dalgetty.’

  Norman stared at her. ‘But that can’t be right! He’s lived in that house for five or six years. He had a passport.’

  ‘He might well have had a passport that said who he was, but did anyone check to see if it was genuine?’ she asked.

  ‘That we can’t tell you,’ said Slater. ‘When he died, the police were called and they ID’d him. Surely they would have checked?’

  ‘But why would they?’ asked Norman. ‘As far as they were concerned, there were no suspicious circumstances about his death, and the PM confirmed it, so why would they bother to check if he was who his passport said he was? Plus, they had a neighbour who identified him, and a solicitor, too. You know how it goes. They wouldn’t have wasted any more time than they really had to.’

  ‘So who the bloody hell was he then?’ asked Slater.

  While they were talking, Watson had been typing. Now she leaned forward to study the screen. ‘I can’t tell you who he is yet,’ she said. ‘But I might be able to tell you why the rent’s still being paid. According to this, the person who’s living in that house is called William Harding.’

  ‘Did you say the person who’s living there?’ asked Slater.

  ‘This says he’s lived there since 2008, and he pays his rent on the dot every month. He’s never missed a payment, or even been late with a payment.’

  ‘William Harding?’ said Norman. ‘But Rosie said Joe’s lived there for the last five years or so. Why would Harding still be paying the bills?’

  ‘Maybe he doesn’t know he’s paying them,’ suggested Slater.

  ‘I think you’d notice if that sort of money was leaving your account every month, wouldn’t you?’ asked Norman.

  ‘He might not notice if he was loaded,’ said Watson.

  ‘We’ll need to access his bank accounts to find that out,’ said Slater. ‘But let’s just go back to Joe for a minute. We already know he’s not really called Joe, right? And now we know he’s living in a house with another person’s name as the tenant, and the rent is being paid in that other person’s name. Now why would he do that?’

  ‘Because he’s hiding,’ said Watson almost instantly.

  Slater pointed a finger at her. ‘Exactly! And why would he be hiding?’

  ‘Because he’s done something, or he knows something,’ said Norman.

  ‘Right! And that must be why someone broke into his house and searched it.’

  ‘And then they broke into Rosie’s house when they couldn’t find what they were looking for,’ finished Norman.

  ‘It’s all starting to add up now,’ said Slater.

  ‘Oh, yeah, this is going to be a piece of cake.’ Norman rolled his eyes. ‘All we have to do is guess what he’s done, or what he knows, and we’ll be home and dry. Lemme see, there must be about a million possibilities!’

  ‘Don’t look so gloomy, sir,’ said Watson cheerfully. ‘We’ll get it sorted, you’ll see.’

  ‘Yeah, listen to me,’ said Norman, ‘and I’m supposed to be the positive one around here! How about I go up and have a chat with Rosie? Let’s see if she can tell me anything about this William Harding guy.’

  ‘That sounds like a plan,’ said Slater.

  ‘You wanna come?’ asked Norman. Then he had a better idea. ‘No, on second thoughts, why don’t you stay here and ask Watson some searching questions about your new job?’

  He grabbed his keys and marched from the room before Slater could think of a retort.

  ‘You don’t really want to talk about this job opportunity right now, do you, sir?’ asked Watson once Norman had left.

  ‘I’ve only just met your boss and heard about it,’ said Slater. ‘And now I find my best mate has known about it for weeks. I’m just a bit confused at the moment.’

  ‘He was only trying to help,’ she said. ‘And your girlfriend knew too. It seems to me the
y both care a lot about you. You’re lucky to have people like that in your life. Don’t be too harsh on them.’

  ‘Yeah, I know you’re right,’ he said. ‘I just need to get my head around the whole thing, you know.’

  ‘I understand,’ she said. ‘And I’m not here to put your back up. Let’s just focus on Mr Dalgetty, or whoever he really is, and you can ask anything you want to know when you’re ready.’

  ‘Or not,’ said Slater. ‘Don’t take this personally, but I need to get some bits for home, so I’m just going to take a walk to the shops. I won’t be long.’

  Watson smiled to herself as he left the office and went back to her search.

  ***

  Meanwhile, Norman was knocking on Rosie’s front door. After a few seconds, it opened a little way and Rosie peered uncertainly at him.

  ‘Ooh! Hello, Mr Norman. I wasn’t expecting you.’

  ‘Hi, Rosie. I was just passing and I thought I’d stop by. I have a couple of questions.’

  ‘D’you want to come in?’

  ‘Just for a minute,’ said Norman. ‘I can’t stop long.’ He followed her into the kitchen.

  ‘What can I do for you?’ she asked.

  ‘What can you tell me about William Harding?’

  ‘Bill?’ she asked, surprised. ‘Blimey, what do you want to know about Bill for?’

  ‘He was living in that house before Joe, wasn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. He was such a nice man.’

  ‘When did he move in?’ asked Norman.

  ‘I can’t remember exactly, but he was there at least two years before Joe took over.’

  ‘What happened to him?’

  ‘He just took off,’ Rosie said. ‘One day he was there, the next he was gone. There was no warning, no goodbye, no nothing. It was so unexpected. He was building a patio in his back garden, and he left that half-finished. It was so out of character. He was such a nice quiet man. I thought him and me were close, you know. I was very upset when he left like that.’

 

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