by P. F. Ford
‘Don’t tell me you’ve made an appointment there as well.’
‘And warn everyone we’re coming? No way. I thought it would be better if we turn up unannounced and see how fast the grapevine works.’
Chapter 5
‘What did you learn about Pritchard and Harkness?’ Norman asked Slater as he drove away from their office.
‘Not much. They started off as a couple of architects, quickly made a name for themselves, became a limited company, swallowed up a couple of small building firms, and became property developers. They’re pretty big players now, doing the whole design, plan, and build thing, operating at the higher end of the market. The managing director is a guy called James Harkness.’
‘What about Pritchard?’
‘I only had a quick scan of the website, but I didn’t see that name mentioned anywhere apart from in the company name.’
‘Okay, a blank slate works for me,’ said Norman. ‘We’ll make out we know nothing and start from scratch.’
* * *
Slater knew from the website that James Harkness was in his early fifties, but when they met, he thought he looked much older. He had been surprised when they had explained why they were there but had ushered them into his office without hesitation.
‘I’ve got ten minutes before I have to leave for a site meeting,’ he said, ‘so I’d appreciate it if you can make it quick.’
‘We have a few questions,’ said Norman. ‘It won’t take long.’
Harkness pointed to the more comfortable chairs away from his desk. ‘So, you’re private investigators,’ he remarked. ‘It was a long time ago, you know. I’m not sure how much help I can be.’
‘We realise ten years is a long time,’ said Slater, ‘but we’re hoping a murder might not be an everyday occurrence in your life.’
Harkness gave Slater a distasteful look. He obviously wasn’t a big fan of sarcasm.
‘It’s possible some new evidence has come to light,’ explained Norman, hastily, ‘and we’ve been asked to check it out.’
‘New evidence? What sort of new evidence? I seem to recall there hadn’t been much doubt who was responsible at the time. I wasn’t much help back then, so I don’t see how I can help so many years after the event.
‘We like to be thorough, so we thought we’d start at the beginning,’ said Slater. ‘It helps us get a better feel for a case.’
‘You knew Julie Harris, didn’t you, Mr Harkness?’ asked Norman. ‘Wasn’t she your secretary?’
‘Well, I suppose you could say that,’ Harkness said. ‘Although it was my business partner back then who interviewed and employed her. He was the one who knew her.’
‘Your partner is Mr Pritchard, right?’ asked Norman.
‘Was Mr Pritchard,’ corrected Harkness. ‘I’m afraid he passed away five years ago.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry. We had no idea. Can I ask what happened to him?’
‘I’m afraid he took Julie’s death very hard. He felt responsible. He started drinking very heavily, became depressed, and eventually committed suicide.’
‘Why did he feel responsible?’ asked Slater.
‘Because he was very fond of her, and it had been his idea to buy the caravan where she died.’
‘Fond of her?’
Harkness glared at Slater. ‘Don’t you dare try to read anything into that,’ he snarled. ‘John Pritchard was a happily married man who cared about his employees. I won’t have his name dragged through the mud.’
‘We’re not here to drag anyone’s name through the mud,’ said Norman. ‘We’re just trying to understand the relationships. You just said you didn’t know your secretary. Isn’t that a bit odd?’
‘Well, I knew who she was, of course, but what I mean is I didn’t know anything about her. John was the one who was here all the time. I spent most of my time out on the road. That’s how we worked in those days, you see. He was based here drawing up plans, and I was the one who went out to see clients and manage jobs.’
‘But if she was your secretary—’
‘I didn’t see Julie very often because I used to dictate my notes at home of an evening, and she would transcribe them next day. I used to meet up with John here at eight every morning, but I’d be gone before she started work at nine. The three of us made a very successful team, but I can’t say I knew much about Julie. I was never here to spend time chatting with her.’
‘Tell us about the caravan,’ Norman said.
‘That was John’s idea. We already had a lodge up in Scotland for our own use, but he thought a static caravan down by the seaside would be an asset we could use to reward the people who worked for us.’
‘Did you have that many employees?’ asked Slater.
‘We used to work with a lot of building contractors. The idea was to reward them with a chance to take their family away for a week in Wales.’
‘Isn’t that called bribery?’
Harkness gave Slater a mirthless smile. ‘I think you’ll find it’s called business.’
‘Did it get used much?’ asked Norman.
‘We only bought it in the spring of 2007. Julie’s murder took place in January 2008. It didn’t seem such a good idea after her body was found. We got rid of it as soon as we could after that.’
‘But did it get used much when you had it?’ Norman persisted.
‘Not really. I had always had my doubts about it, but John thought it was a good idea.’
‘I understand Julie used to handle the bookings, is that right?’
‘Julie and John handled it between them.’
‘What happened if no one was using it?’ asked Slater. ‘Did it sit empty?’
Harkness sighed. ‘John used to go down there most weekends if it was empty. He had a thing about birdwatching. To tell the truth, I used to think that was the only reason he had wanted it in the first place.’
‘Was he there the weekend Julie died?’ asked Slater.
Harkness gave Slater that distasteful look again. ‘If you think you can pin the murder on the dead man just to get your client off the hook, you’re making a grave mistake. John was in Scotland, birdwatching.’ He looked pointedly at his watch. ‘Now, I’m afraid that’s all the time I have.’
‘No problem,’ said Norman, getting to his feet. ‘Thank you for sparing us your time. You’ve been very helpful.’
* * *
‘Is it me, or did he manage to avoid telling us anything useful?’ asked Norman, as they climbed back into his car.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Slater. ‘He made sure to tell us nothing was his fault.’
‘D’you think he was suggesting something was going on between John Pritchard and Julie Harris?’
‘If you mean, was he faking the indignation? I’m not sure,’ said Slater. ‘It did seem to be a bit of an extreme reaction.’
‘It’s easy to pass the buck when the other guy’s dead. I’d love to hear John Pritchard’s side of the story.’
‘Is his widow still around?’
‘I haven’t got that far.’
‘I’ll check it out when we get back,’ said Slater. ‘Maybe she’d be willing to speak to us.’
‘It’s worth a try.’
As Norman pulled the car into their designated parking spot, Slater glanced across to their office. A woman was standing outside, apparently waiting.
‘We could do with a receptionist or something,’ said Slater. ‘A woman is waiting outside. We could have missed her, and she might have the big job we’re waiting for.’
As Norman looked up, the woman turned in their direction. ‘She has the big job we’re investigating now. That’s Debbie Thomas. I told her to give me twenty-four hours, and I’d let her know if I was going to take the case.’
As he saw her face, Slater sank back in his seat. ‘Oh, Jesus, no wonder the name seemed so familiar,’ he muttered.
‘What?’
‘I just remembered I have to get to the bank before they close.’<
br />
‘You should have said. I could have dropped you off.’
‘Like I said, I just remembered,’ said Slater. ‘You can handle this, can’t you?’
‘I was rather hoping to introduce you to Debbie,’ said Norman. ‘She was expecting two of us yesterday, and I fed her some crap about you being on vacation.’
‘Well, feed her some more crap now,’ said Slater, opening the car door and sliding out. ‘I have to go, or I’ll be in trouble.’
‘Hang on a minute,’ began Norman, but Slater was already across the car park, and Norman could only watch as he disappeared down the footpath that led towards town.
‘What the hell was that about?’ he muttered. As he climbed from the car and headed for the office, he pasted a professional smile on his face. ‘Hi, Debbie. Boy, are you keen?’
She smiled back at him. ‘You did say twenty-four hours, and that was yesterday morning.’
‘You got me there,’ agreed Norman.
‘Was that Dave Slater?’ she asked, looking across the car park in the direction Slater had fled.
‘Yeah. I’m sorry, Dave had to rush off. He has some business at the bank, and he was worried they might close.’
‘That’s a pity. I was hoping to see him. I used to know him.’
‘Oh, really? He didn’t say,’ said Norman.
‘It was a long time ago,’ she said wistfully. ‘Maybe he’s forgotten.’
Norman said nothing as he unlocked the office door and led her inside.
‘So, what do you think?’ she asked. ‘Will you help me?’
‘We’ve had a good look at your case, and I’m pleased to tell you we are going to look into it,’ he told her, ‘but you have to understand that we can’t guarantee we’ll find what you want us to find.’
‘I understand that,’ she said, ‘but I have every confidence in you. You’re my brother’s last chance.’
‘No pressure then,’ said Norman, with a wry smile.
‘I know you’ll do your best. I don’t ask for any more than that.’
‘I can guarantee that.’
Chapter 6
‘Did you rush off to avoid someone, or was my imagination playing tricks on me?’ asked Norman, when Slater returned a few minutes later.
‘I had to go to the bank,’ answered Slater, avoiding Norman’s gaze.
‘Call me suspicious, but I don’t think you’ve been anywhere near the bank. In fact, I would suggest you’ve been hiding where you could watch the office until someone left.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘You know perfectly well what I mean. If I had to guess, I’d say you didn’t want to see Debbie Thomas. Am I right?’
Slater sighed and looked off into the distance for a moment. He kicked aimlessly at a wastepaper basket and then appeared to come to a decision.
‘Yes, I knew her, but it was a long time ago, and she was Debbie Harris back then,’ he said, turning to face Norman.
‘Was she another one of your girlfriends?’
‘It was a long time ago.’
‘D’you want to talk about it?’
Slater suddenly felt the need to study his feet.
‘So, she wasn’t like all the others?’ asked Norman.
‘You could say that,’ said Slater, quietly. ‘Fancy a beer?’
Norman glanced at his wristwatch. ‘Yeah, why not?’ He patted his pockets. ‘You’re in luck, I’ve even brought my wallet along.’
* * *
Slater chose a quiet table well away from the bar.
‘When I first left school, I worked in a bank,’ he began, when Norman joined him with two beers.
Norman pulled a face as he sipped his pint.
‘Yeah, I know, but I was just a kid, and I had no idea. I thought it would be an easy way to make a living. Anyway, Debbie came to work there, too. She was sixteen, I was eighteen, and I was asked to show her how things worked. I went to a boys’ school, so I’d never really got to spend time with a girl before. I thought she was beautiful, and we just seemed to hit it off. We started dating, and two years later, I asked her to marry me.’
Norman nearly spilled his beer. ‘You asked her to marry you? Oh, wow, you really were smitten.’
Slater gave a sad little smile. ‘Her parents were pleased about it. I guess they thought I was the just the right steady sort of guy with a sensible career and a good future – you know the sort of thing.’
Norman nodded. Yes, he knew the sort of thing, exactly.
‘We had the date set, and everything was arranged,’ continued Slater, ‘and then, a month before the wedding, she told me she was three months pregnant.’
Norman grimaced. ‘That’s not ideal, but it’s not the end of the world.’
‘It is when you’re not the father,’ said Slater grimly.
He took a long drink from his glass, creating an awkward silence that Norman felt he should fill. He should have seen this coming and wondered if there was an appropriate response to such a statement, but quickly decided that if there was, he had no idea what it would be.
‘Ah,’ was all he managed to say.
‘She was my first girlfriend, and I was as green as grass,’ said Slater. ‘I mean, we used to kiss and cuddle, but I had this naive idea that it would be good to wait until we got married, and I thought she felt the same.’
There was another silence, but this time Norman resisted the temptation to fill it.
‘It turns out,’ said Slater, with a mirthless smile, ‘she was gagging for it, and when I didn’t deliver, she found someone else who was only too happy to oblige. The thing was, he’d been obliging her for over a year when I found out.’
Norman couldn’t hide his disbelief. ‘And she was still going through with the wedding?’
‘She blamed that on me, and her parents. She claimed she just got carried along with the whole thing, and no one stopped to ask her what she thought. She reckoned she had been trying to tell me it was all over, but the time never seemed right, you know?’
‘Shit.’
‘Yeah, that’s one word for it,’ agreed Slater. ‘Apparently, I was too boring. She already had a boring job, and with me, she would have had a completely boring life. She wanted some excitement in her life and cheating on me with this other guy was providing the excitement she craved.’
‘Did you know the guy?’ asked Norman.
Slater smiled his mirthless smile again. ‘Oh, yeah, I knew him alright. He was going to be my best man!’
‘Jeez, that’s some story. I don’t know what to say,’ said Norman, hopelessly. ‘What happened after that?’
‘Her dad tried to force the other guy to take my place. He’d spent a fortune on the wedding already, and he was determined to get his money’s worth, but Casanova did a runner, and that was the end of that.’
‘So much for her exciting life,’ said Norman. ‘Did she keep the baby? I would imagine having a baby at nineteen would cramp your style.’
‘I have no idea,’ said Slater. ‘I soon realised nearly everyone I knew had known what was going on. Can you imagine how that felt? I handed my notice in at the bank a couple of weeks later, left Winchester, and moved to Tinton. This is the first time I’ve seen Debbie since then.’
‘So that’s why you didn’t recognise her name.’
‘She was still Harris, last time I saw her,’ said Slater, taking another mouthful of beer.
‘If you went out with her for that long you must know her brother, right?’
‘He’s a couple of years older than Debbie. He was in the Army back then and was away a lot. I got the impression his parents tried to run his life. The Army allowed him to be himself. If I saw him more than half a dozen times I’d be surprised, and I certainly didn’t get to know him.’
‘Are you going to be okay taking this case?’ asked Norman.
‘If you mean am I over her? Yes, I am. Working the case won’t be a problem.’
‘I can make sure you don’t
have to meet up with her if you like.’
‘No, don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I was just taken by surprise seeing her like that.’
‘I’m sorry, I should have warned you.’
‘Don’t be daft, Norm. There was no way you could have known, and as I said, it was over twenty years ago. I’m fine.’
‘Well, if it’s any consolation,’ said Norman, ‘I know how it feels to get kicked in the teeth by a woman, but I’m not sure I would have coped if I’d been that young when it happened.’
‘Oh, I really struggled with the disappointment,’ said Slater, ‘but looking back now, I can see she was right. I was boring. I hate to admit it, but everything about my life back then was boring and predictable. I needed a kick up the arse, and I got one. Debbie Harris is the reason I became a police officer.’
‘A police officer’s life is anything but predictable, that’s for sure,’ said Norman.
There was a brief silence while they both contemplated their beers.
‘It’s why I don’t have many friends,’ said Slater.
‘Huh?’
‘They all knew, and yet no one told me. I never felt so stupid in my life as when I realised they were going to let me make a mistake that could have messed up my whole life and no one was prepared to warn me. It made it really hard for me to trust anyone, and I’ve sort of stayed that way.’
‘It also explains why you have this problem with women,’ Norman added.
Slater stiffened. ‘I don’t have a problem with women. I’ve had plenty of girlfriends.’
‘Yes, but none of them stick, do they? As soon as things start to get serious, you end it. I reckon, deep down, you’re frightened to commit to a relationship because of what happened back then.’
Slater grinned. ‘That’s bollocks, Norm.’
‘I think we both know it’s not. I think what happened back then clouds your judgment about every woman you’ve met since.’
‘Well, thank you for your amazing insights, Doctor Freud,’ said Slater, testily, ‘but I think I’ve heard enough now. You asked me about Debbie Thomas, and I explained. This matter is now closed. ‘