Dave Slater Mystery Novels Box Set Three

by P. F. Ford

  Slater was struggling with this undeniable truth. Deep inside, he knew he couldn’t argue with what Brent had just said. He also knew he needed to calm down, because getting angry wasn’t going to solve anything. The poor guy was just doing his job, and the fact was, he didn’t have to tell Slater any of this before he went to the police. Maybe he could stall for time.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘but I just can’t believe Jenny would do this. Do you really have to go to the police?’

  Brent sighed. ‘You know how it works. If I find something suspicious I have to report it.’

  ‘How sure are you?’

  ‘I have absolutely no doubt this was arson. I’m sorry, but I can’t ignore that.’

  ‘But why would she want to burn my bloody house down?’ asked Slater.

  ‘That’s where the police come into it,’ said Brent. ‘I just hand over my findings. It’s up to them to work out who did it – and why they did it.’

  For a moment, Slater wasn’t sure if Brent was being patronising.

  ‘Yeah, actually, I do know how it works,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, I know you do,’ said Brent. ‘So you should know I have no choice about what I have to do next.’

  ‘How about if I ask you to give me forty-eight hours before you report it?’

  ‘Now you’re kidding me, aren’t you?’

  ‘Do you always report your findings this quickly? I mean what’s the rush? No one died.’

  ‘It depends how busy I am.’

  ‘Aw, c’mon, Eddie,’ pleaded Slater. ‘Jenny’s had enough shit over the past couple of years. I know she didn’t do this, but I also know she won’t stand a chance if the police think she’s involved. This could be the final straw for her. Do you really want that on your conscience?’

  ‘What do you mean the final straw?’

  ‘It’s a long story,’ said Slater, ‘and I don’t know it all yet. In fact I’ve barely scratched the surface.’

  ‘How do I know you won’t spirit her away?’

  ‘You don’t,’ said Slater, ‘but trust me, if I think she’s set fire to my house, I’ll be taking her to the police station myself.’

  Brent thought about it, but not for long. ‘You’ve got until Monday morning,’ he said, walking across to his desk. He picked up a slim folder and handed it to Slater.

  ‘What’s this?’

  ‘It’s a copy of my report. I can’t imagine how you managed to get hold of it.’

  ‘Wow! Thanks, Eddie.’

  ‘I’ll be going to the police on Monday morning. Understand?’

  ‘Perfectly.’

  ‘Just remember the first thing I’m going to have to do is explain why I didn’t notify them sooner.’

  ‘What will you tell them?’

  ‘I haven’t a clue, but I expect I’ll think of something.’

  ‘Thanks, Eddie, you’re a mate.’

  ‘I am at the moment,’ said Brent, ‘so I’d be grateful if you just make sure I don’t have reason to stop being one.’

  ***

  ‘Did she ask where I was?’ asked Slater as he slipped back into Norman’s room.

  ‘As far as I know, she’s still asleep,’ said Norman. ‘I didn’t see any point in disturbing her for no good reason.’

  ‘Good,’ said Slater, and he wiped a weary hand across his forehead.

  ‘Okay, let’s hear it,’ said Norman.

  Slater gave him an enquiring look.

  ‘He wouldn’t have asked you to go all the way over there if he had good news,’ said Norman. ‘And I’ve known you long enough to know you’re not happy about what he’s told you.’

  ‘He says it was arson,’ said Slater indignantly, tossing the report down on Norman’s bed. ‘Some bastard set fire to my house!’

  ‘Holy crap,’ said Norman. ‘Welcome to the club! So is there anyone, apart from Scanlon, who you’ve pissed off so much they’d want to torch your house?’

  ‘His prime suspect is Jenny.’

  Norman gaped at him. ‘No way. That’s absurd! What makes him think that?’

  ‘He says every hob ring was switched on, and then oil was poured all over it. The grill was stuffed with newspaper and then turned on, and then all the downstairs windows were left open so there would be plenty of through draught to make sure the fire spread really quickly once it got going. Oh, and he also found traces of accelerant, probably petrol.’

  ‘So how does that prove it was her?’

  ‘His theory is it was an inside job.’

  ‘Why would she burn down what was her home too?’ asked Norman.

  ‘Yeah, those are the same questions I came up with,’ said Slater. ‘It makes no sense, does it? It’s not as if she’s an attention-seeker, either. Becoming the centre of attention in a police inquiry is the last thing she needs.’

  ‘What are we going to do?’

  ‘This isn’t your problem, Norm.’

  ‘Of course, it is. We’re best mates, aren’t we?’

  ‘Well, yeah, but—’

  ‘Never mind, well, yeah, but,’ said Norman. ‘Just tell me where you want to start.’

  ‘I’m going to have to ask Jenny some awkward questions.’

  ‘Would you prefer if I did it?’ asked Norman.

  Slater smiled ruefully. ‘Thanks, Norm, I really appreciate the offer, but I think this is something I have to do.’

  ‘Should I sit in?’

  ‘I think that might come across as a bit intimidating. I think it might be better if you stay out of it, then if I make a mess of it, maybe you can try to pick up the pieces.’

  Norman smiled. ‘You mean you want me to be the good cop?’

  Now Slater managed a smile. ‘She might storm out if she thinks I’m accusing her,’ he said, remembering how hot-headed she could be. ‘Then again, she might just start throwing stuff at me.’

  Norman smirked. ‘Should we clear the room before you start talking? She can’t throw what isn’t there.’

  ‘But then she might beat the crap out of me instead,’ said Slater. ‘I think I’ll take my chances with missiles. At least I might be able to avoid those.’

  ‘Whatever you say,’ said Norman, settling on the bed and picking up the report Slater had left there. ‘Just leave my door open so I can hear you scream.’

  Slater sighed. He left Norman’s door ajar, crossed the corridor, and quietly opened the door to his own room. Jenny peered, bleary-eyed, at him.

  ‘Hi,’ he said. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Sore,’ she said, ‘but I’ll live.’

  ‘I need to ask you a couple of questions,’ he said. ‘Can I come and sit down?’

  She sat up and shuffled across the bed so he could sit on the edge next to her. She looked enquiringly at him.

  ‘Is this like an interview?’

  Slater was beginning to feel uncomfortable. He could almost see a barrier going up around her, and he hadn’t even started yet.

  ‘No, of course not,’ he said.

  ‘Well, go on then,’ she said, the challenge clear in her tone. ‘Ask away.’

  ‘I’ve been out to see the fire service investigator who’s been examining what’s left of the house,’ he said.

  She didn’t say a word, but her expression told him everything he needed to know as her lips tightened and became so thin they almost disappeared. Then, very slowly, and deliberately, she folded her arms. Slater felt a sinking feeling. Now the castle walls had been completed, and the drawbridge had been raised as well.

  ‘It started in the kitchen,’ he explained, ‘but because the windows were left open downstairs, and our bedroom window was open, it spread really quickly.’

  ‘What happened? How did it start?’

  ‘The cooker.’

  ‘Look,’ she said, finally. ‘If it was my fault, I’m sorry, but it was an accident. I would never—’ She stopped for a split second as his words sunk in. ‘But I didn’t use the cooker this morning. I didn’t even use the kettle to make a cu
p of tea.’

  ‘It wasn’t an accident. He’s absolutely certain of that. Whoever started the fire loaded the grill with paper, poured oil and petrol all over the hob, turned them all on full blast, and then opened all the windows to make sure there was a good draught to get the fire going.’

  Her eyes blazed with a fierce intensity, and suddenly she was full of animation, arms waving everywhere. ‘Are you suggesting I did this?’

  ‘That’s no—’ he began, but she was in no mood to listen.

  ‘How bloody stupid would I have to be to set fire to the only home I have? And why would I do that to you after you’ve been so kind to me? What sort of person do you think I am?’

  ‘If you’d ju—’

  But now she was in full flow, and he had no chance of being heard. ‘Go on, tell me!’ she yelled at the top of her voice. ‘Why would I do it? What possible reason could I have?’

  Finally silent, she sat back, re-folded her arms, and glared at him with a fierce intensity. At that moment, there was a knock on the door and Norman peered into the room. The fierce glare was immediately aimed in his direction.

  ‘Are you two okay in here? Only it sounds a bit heated,’ asked Norman, innocently.

  ‘Oh yes,’ she said bitterly. ‘Do come in and finish the interview. I suppose you must be the good cop, because it can’t be him.’ She jerked her head in Slater’s direction.

  Norman stepped into the room and raised his hands in surrender. ‘I may be speaking out of turn here, Jenny,’ he said, ‘but I can assure you we’re both on your side, especially him.’ He nodded his head at Slater. ‘I think maybe you need to listen to what he has to say before you condemn him.’

  Slater wondered if perhaps Norman had some sort of death wish, and he held his breath in anticipation, but to his surprise, Jenny didn’t seem to have a response. After a few seconds, satisfied he now might be given a chance to speak without being shouted down, he thought he’d give it a try.

  ‘I didn’t say you started the fire,’ he began. ‘I’m just telling you what the investigator guy told me.’

  ‘So he thinks I started the fire!’ she snapped.

  ‘He doesn’t have an opinion about that. All he does is investigate what caused the fire. It’s not his job to work out who did it. He will report his findings to the police, and it’s up to them to investigate. You were in the legal system; you know how it works.’

  Now her face fell as she realised the possible implications. ‘Oh great! They’ll be all over me like a bloody rash,’ she said. ‘This is some sort of setup to get me into even more trouble, isn’t it? I knew I should have stayed on the street. I was safe there.’

  ‘Well, pardon me for trying to help you out and putting a roof over your head,’ said Slater, huffily.

  Norman clapped his hands loudly. ‘Now wait, wait, wait!’ he cried. ‘Listen to the two of you. Can we all just calm down and start behaving like adults? Jenny, listen to me. No one is accusing you of anything, and neither of us think you started the fire, but we need to try and work out what happened, then if anyone does accuse you, we’re ready to prove you didn’t.’

  ‘Well, you’d better be bloody quick,’ she said. ‘Because once that fire investigation guy gets to the police, they’ll be down here like a shot. I bet they’ll be here any minute.’

  ‘We’ve got until Monday morning,’ said Slater. Both Norman and Jenny turned to look at him.

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘He agreed to hold on to his report until Monday morning.’

  Norman grinned. At least they had a little time.

  ‘It’s true, isn’t it?’ said Jenny. ‘This is all my fault. Someone’s burnt your house down to get at me!’

  ‘We don’t know that,’ said Slater. ‘If it was someone after you, why wait until now? You’ve been staying with me for weeks.’

  ‘Yes, but I only started to leave the house a couple of weeks ago when we started jogging together in the mornings.’

  ‘If they wanted to hurt you, I don’t think they would have worried about me being in the way,’ he said.

  ‘But it’s not an attempt to hurt me, is it?’ she said. ‘These people wouldn’t risk murdering me so publicly. Someone must have been watching me. They’ve probably been watching for weeks and somehow figured out I’m in the habit of soaking in the bath every morning. They knew they had time to get in and start the fire. I think it’s all designed to frame me. I’m going to be charged with arson, aren’t I?’

  ‘But how could they be sure you’d escape?’ asked Slater. ‘This wasn’t an attempt to frame you. Starting a fire downstairs when you know someone is upstairs isn’t an attempt to frame someone for arson, Jen, it’s attempted murder!’

  ‘Oh my God! You think they’re trying to kill me now?’ she cried.

  ‘Now let’s not get carried away,’ said Norman. ‘You’re not the only one who’s been a target, you know. It could be the same people who set fire to my flat. Maybe they thought it was time to come back and have a go at Dave. There’s also the possibility it could be something to do with the case we’re on. Have you thought of that?’ He gave her a moment to consider this before he continued. ‘No,’ he said, ‘of course not. You haven’t considered any other possibility except it must be all about you, have you?’

  Jenny looked suitably chastened. ‘You’d think it, too, if you’d had the last two years I’ve had,’ she said, sulkily.

  ‘Yeah, well, we understand that,’ said Slater, ‘but until you actually tell us what’s been going on, we can’t help you out with that. We’ve had this discussion before.’

  ‘Yes, all right, all right!’ she snapped. ‘I’m just not ready to—’

  ‘Let’s not get off the subject here,’ said Norman. ‘I realise you’re both stressed after what happened, but can we try and remember we’re all on the same side here. The clock’s ticking and we need to establish what happened on the morning of the fire.’

  ‘Yeah, right,’ said Slater, sheepishly. ‘I’m sorry, Norm, you’re right.’ He turned to Jenny. ‘Look, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t handle this very well, but it’s not every day some arsehole burns my bloody house down and tries to kill my girlfriend!’ His face had turned a neat shade of beetroot red. Jenny was looking at him with a curious expression verging on a smile.

  Norman grinned at both of them. ‘I think that’s what you call a Freudian slip,’ he said. ‘I think you two need to sort out exactly what your relationship is, but you can do it later. Right now, we need to get on with the matter in hand. Please.’

  ‘Yeah, right,’ said Slater. ‘Jenny, talk us through what happened after I left for work.’

  ‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘I did what I usually do once you’ve gone. I have a shower and then I ran a hot bath, climbed in, and soaked.’

  ‘You didn’t turn the cooker on and forget?’ asked Norman.

  ‘I promise you, I didn’t even turn the kettle on that morning,’ she said. ‘Dave will tell you, I only drink cold water first thing.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s right,’ said Slater.

  ‘And I’m sure I checked the front door was locked before I went upstairs, and I certainly didn’t open any windows downstairs.’

  ‘What about the upstairs windows?’ asked Norman.

  ‘The spare room was closed,’ said Slater, ‘and the window in our room was open, but only the small one at the top.’

  ‘According to the report, all the downstairs windows had been opened,’ said Norman.

  ‘Not by me,’ said Jenny. ‘They were all closed. It’s too cold to have even one downstairs window open, never mind all of them.’

  ‘That’s what I figured.’ Norman rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

  ‘Anyway,’ said Jenny, ‘if I wanted the place to burn down, why would I have called 999?’

  ‘You did?’ asked Slater.

  ‘Well, of course, I did, you silly arse! That’s what you’re supposed to do when your house is on fire, isn’t it?’

&nbs
p; ‘When did you do that?’ asked Norman, trying to avert a full-blown argument. ‘As soon as you saw the fire?’

  ‘I got out first,’ she said. ‘Survival instinct, you know?’

  ‘How long was it before they got there?’ asked Norman.

  She looked at him as if he was mad.

  ‘Roughly,’ pleaded Norman.

  ‘God, I don’t know, five minutes, maybe.’

  ‘But it would have taken at least fifteen minutes from the time you called,’ said Slater, puzzled. ‘The call has to be transferred to the fire service, then the station has to be notified, and the crew has to assemble, and they have to make the journey . . . It’s got to be about fifteen minutes in total. How did they get there so quick?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said, angrily. ‘They didn’t tell me! I assume one of the neighbours had already called it in.’

  ‘But they were all out. Remember? Eddie said they were trying to track everyone down so they could get into their houses.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know,’ she said, exasperated. ‘What difference does it make?’

  ‘It might make a whole lot of difference,’ said Norman.

  Slater reached for his phone and started dialling.

  ‘Is it important?’ she asked Norman.

  ‘Maybe,’ he said.

  ‘Eddie?’ Slater was saying into the phone. ‘It’s Dave Slater. I’m sorry to call you, but it’s important. According to your report, you say you estimate the fire had been burning for about fifteen minutes when you got there.’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Brent. ‘Another five or ten minutes and we would have been too late.’

  ‘My guess is it would take you about fifteen minutes from the call being placed to you arriving at the house, is that right?’

  ‘That would be about right,’ agreed Brent.

  ‘But Jenny says she didn’t call 999 until she had escaped from the house. The flames were already spreading up the stairs by then, so it must have been burning for a good few minutes.’

  There was a short, pregnant pause before Brent replied. ‘I see what you mean. She would have had to call almost as soon as the fire started.’