Dave Slater Mystery Novels Box Set Three

by P. F. Ford

  ‘Yes, it’s my car registration number. Why are you showing me this?’

  ‘Do you know where your car is, Mr Slater?’

  ‘Look, what is this? Has there been an accident or something?’

  Robbins took over now. ‘Are we to assume you don’t know where your car is?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ said Slater. ‘I lent it to a friend. Look, what’s going on? Has there been an accident? Is she alright?’

  Robbins’ eyebrows raised momentarily, but Wesley’s surprise was much more noticeable. ‘Your friend is a woman?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, she’s a woman. What’s wrong with that?’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with it, it’s just not what we were expecting.’

  ‘Now you’re starting to worry me,’ said Slater. ‘Unless procedures have changed a lot in the past month or so, car crime doesn’t get investigated by a DI and a DS, so can you please tell me what’s going on?’

  Robbins nodded to Wesley, who slipped another photograph from his folder. ‘This photograph was taken shortly after midnight. The car had just been parked in a public car park when this happened.’

  Slater looked at the crumpled wreck in the photograph in disbelief. The car was the right model, the right colour, and the registration number was undoubtedly his. Norman hurried over and peered over his shoulder. ‘Jeez! It looks like it was hit by a missile!’

  ‘What happened to the driver?’ asked Slater. ‘Is she alright?’

  ‘There was no trace of a woman anywhere near the car, Mr Slater.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  Robbins nodded to Wesley again, and he produced yet another photograph. ‘We think this man was driving the car,’ said Robbins. ‘As it was your car, the first responders thought he was you, but we soon realised that wasn’t the case. We were rather hoping you might be able to tell us who he is.’

  Slater stared at the obviously dead face and shook his head. ‘Sorry, I have no idea. Who is he?’

  ‘We don’t know yet. He had no ID on him, not even a phone, that’s why we were hoping you could tell us.’

  Slater passed the photo on to Norman. ‘Do you know this bloke, Norm?’

  Norman took the photo and stared at it. ‘I have no idea who he is,’ he said, handing the photo back to Wesley, ‘but he looks pretty dead.’

  Wesley ignored Norman and focused his attention on Slater. ‘You’re quite sure you don’t know him?’

  ‘I repeat – I do not know him,’ said Slater, patiently.

  Norman had been studying the photograph of Slater’s car, and now he voiced his thoughts. ‘You say this car was in a car park, right? So, this damage isn’t the result of another car crashing into it, is it? If I had to guess, I’d have to say this was bomb damage.’

  Robbins gave Norman an appreciative look. ‘I’d have to say you were correct.’

  ‘I was a DS in London,’ explained Norman. ‘I’ve come across one or two of these before.’

  Slater was still struggling to take it all in. ‘A bomb? That’s a bit random, isn’t it?’

  ‘Well, that’s the thing,’ said Robbins. ‘Who goes around randomly bombing cars parked in out-of-the-way car parks in Winchester? If you wanted to cause a bit of mayhem, you’d choose a busy car park when there were likely to be lots of people around. But, of course, if you were looking to murder a specific person, planting a bomb under their car has been known to work before.’

  ‘What? You mean me?’ asked Slater. ‘Why would anyone want to blow me up?’

  Robbins inclined her head thoughtfully. ‘Let’s get back to your car. You say you lent it to your girlfriend … could she have lent it to this man?’

  ‘No way,’ said Slater. ‘She wouldn’t do that. I know she wouldn’t.’

  ‘Okay, so is it possible this man could have stolen it from wherever she had parked it?’

  ‘I find that hard to believe.’

  Robbins sighed. ‘Look, I understand it must be a bit of a shock to find your car has been reduced to scrap metal, but the fact remains that a man is dead, presumably killed by a bomb that someone planted under your car. You’re a detective, you know we need answers, but at the moment you’re not providing any, are you?’

  Slater could see the sincerity on Robbins’ face, and he knew she was right. ‘I came back from Thailand on Monday evening. The girl I was with had to get back to London because she was starting a new job the next morning, so I lent her my car. She said she would keep it safely parked until she had a chance to bring it back down here.’

  ‘Parked where?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘You lent your girlfriend a fifty-grand car, and you don’t even know where it is?’ asked Wesley, doubtfully.

  ‘She’s not my girlfriend,’ said Slater, testily. ‘She’s just a friend who happens to be a police officer who works up in London. I’m happy to lend her my car because I know she’s done almost every type of advanced driver training there is. She was taking it straight to her new job, where there is a secure car park, and she wasn’t going to use it again until she brought it back here.’

  ‘Where is this secure car park?’

  ‘I don’t know its exact location, just somewhere in London.’

  ‘It doesn’t look as if it was very safe or secure to me,’ said Wesley, nodding at the photograph. ‘What was it doing in Winchester if it was supposed to be in London?’

  ‘I don’t know!’ Slater could see Wesley didn’t believe a word he was saying. ‘Look, I’d phone her, but she sent me a text yesterday saying she wouldn’t be able to bring my car back for a few days because she was going to be unavailable.’

  ‘Unavailable?’ What does that mean?’ asked Robbins.

  ‘I don’t know. She just started a new job, so maybe she’s on an induction course.’

  ‘Didn’t you ask?’ asked Wesley.

  ‘Why would I?’

  ‘If I were you, I’d want to know when my car was coming back.’

  ‘But you’re not me, are you?’

  ‘This all sounds a bit iffy if you ask me,’ said Wesley.

  Slater bristled. ‘Iffy? What d’you mean, iffy?’

  ‘Alright, Mr Slater, let’s calm down, shall we?’ said Robbins. ‘I think what my colleague is trying to say is that it’s all bit vague. I’m sure when you think about what you’ve told us so far, you’ll agree with him.’

  Norman put a calming hand on Slater’s shoulder. ‘Come on, Dave, take it easy. I don’t think DS Wesley meant it like that, and they do have a point. I know you’re not trying to be awkward, but you have to admit, you’re not helping much, are you?’

  Slater heaved a big sigh and wished he knew what the hell was going on. ‘I understand where you’re coming from, but I can’t tell you anything, because I don’t know anything,’ he told Robbins.

  ‘You could tell me who your friend is,’ she said. ‘Maybe she can explain how your car came to be in Winchester.’

  Slater reached for a pen and a notepad. ‘I’ll write it down for you,’ he said, adding pointedly, ‘but I’d prefer it if you could check her out personally, and be discreet, will you?’

  Robbins raised one eyebrow.

  ‘No, she’s not married, but as I said, she’s a police officer too. I’m not exactly a police service pinup boy at the moment, and it might not do her prospects any good if her bosses became aware she spent two weeks in Thailand with me.’

  Small crinkly lines appeared briefly around Robbins’ eyes, accompanying the tiny smile that betrayed her amusement. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

  Slater finished writing and handed the paper to Robbins. ‘What about my car?’

  ‘You know how it works. It’s part of an investigation, and right now I’m not sure if you’re a central part of that investigation or not. For now, I think I’d prefer it if you let us do our jobs and wait until you hear from us.’

  Slater watched helplessly as Robbins and Wesley left. ‘Did that really happen?’ he asked. />
  ‘I’m afraid it did,’ said Norman. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Well, yeah, I suppose so.’

  ‘You’re not going to start charging all over the place trying to find out who did this, are you?’

  ‘I’ll decide on that after I’ve spoken to Watson and she’s explained how my car has come to be in a thousand pieces in a Winchester car park!’

  Chapter 9

  Slater listened as the ringtone went on and on, finally going to voicemail. He had been calling Watson throughout the day since Robbins and Wesley had left, and he must have called well over a dozen times now, but still there was no answer. In the beginning, he thought maybe she had been hurt last night, but he was coming to the conclusion she was avoiding him, although he had no idea why. Perhaps this time he should leave a message.

  ‘Hi, Sam, it’s me,’ he said after the beep. ‘I’ve got a bit of a problem. The police have been on to me about my car being blown up in Winchester last night. I had to tell them you borrowed it, but they want proof, so I’ve given them your number. DI Robbins will be contacting you, but I’d like to speak to you first, please. I need to know what’s going on and if you’re alright. Give me a call when you get this message.’

  He ended the call, dropped into an armchair, tossed the phone down, and closed his eyes. Not surprisingly, he couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened earlier, and now his head was throbbing. He tried to switch his thoughts away from his problems, but it was easier said than done. And then his phone started to ring.

  He snatched it up and looked at the caller ID. He didn’t recognise the number, but something made him put the phone to his ear anyway.

  ‘Is that you, Dave?’

  ‘Sam?’

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘Are you alright?’

  ‘I’m fine, but I thought we agreed we weren’t going to do this.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have called, but this is important. Did you get my message?’

  ‘Yes, I got your message, but I wish you had asked me before you gave my details out to all and sundry.’

  ‘All and sundry? I gave your number to one DI, and she promised to be discreet. You know I wouldn’t have done that if I hadn’t been desperate.’

  ‘What do you mean desperate?’

  ‘I said in the message. My bloody car has been blown up in a car park in Winchester. You’re supposed to be looking after it, so I was worried what had happened to you and wondering what the hell my car was doing there?’

  ‘Don’t be so ridiculous! Your car is safely parked where I said it would be.’

  ‘But I’ve seen the photographs. I know it’s my car, it’s got my bloody licence plates. Apparently, some unidentified bloke was driving the car, but someone had planted a bomb under it. It detonated in the car park and blew this guy up. The police reckon I was the target.’

  ‘That’s absurd. I told you, your car’s safe and sound exactly where I left it.’

  ‘Okay, in that case, I need you to confirm you have the car and where you were last night. That’s the only reason I gave DI Robbins your number.’

  ‘But I was out last night.’

  ‘What, in my car?’

  ‘No, of course not. I told you, your car is right where I said it would be, and it hasn’t been blown up.’

  ‘But it must have been. I told you, I’ve seen the photos.’

  ‘And I’ve seen your car,’ said Watson, irritably. ‘It was in the car park when I came in this morning.’

  ‘Could someone have taken it?’

  ‘You’re not listening to me,’ cried Watson. ‘Your car is parked in a very secure police car park, that’s guarded 24/7. I had to have special permission to park it there, and the only person who is authorised to remove it is me.’

  ‘Where is this car park?’

  ‘I can’t tell you that.’

  ‘What d’you mean you can’t tell me?’

  ‘We agreed you wouldn’t ask me about my new job.’

  ‘I’m not asking about your job, I’m asking about my car. I’ve got the police showing me a photograph of a bomb wreck, and you’re telling me they’ve got it all wrong. Come on, Sam, help me out here!’

  ‘I promise you I’ll talk to DI Robbins and tell her where your car is, but you can’t keep contacting me. We agreed.’

  Slater couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. What was the matter with the woman? Why couldn’t she understand his predicament? ‘I don’t keep contacting you. It’s one phone call, and it’s an emergency. I thought we were still friends.’

  ‘We are still friends, but we agreed we weren’t in a relationship and we weren’t going to try and turn it into one.’

  ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with you,’ said Slater, exasperated. ‘I’m not trying to turn anything into a relationship. I’m just asking you to speak to the police. That’s reasonable enough in the circumstances, isn’t it? I thought friends helped each other out.’

  ‘I will help you out, I promise, but I have to go now.’

  There was a loud click and the call ended. Slater looked at the phone in disbelief and put it to his ear again, but she had gone.

  As he was looking in disgust at his phone, Norman came into the room. ‘You look like you lost a fifty-pound note and found a fiver,’ he said.

  ‘That was Sam. She’s pissed off at me for giving Robbins her number. She’s just hung up on me.’

  ‘Maybe it’s just me, but it doesn’t seem unreasonable to ask a friend to prove where your car was when they had your car and it’s now a wreck.’

  ‘Apparently we’re not that sort of friend.’

  ‘I thought you two parted on good terms. Mature adults. Wasn’t that the phrase you used?’

  Slater reached for his phone again. ‘You’re right, Norm. It’s not unreasonable to ask where my car is. I’m going to call her again, only this time I’m going to get some real answers.’

  ‘Well, good luck with that,’ said Norman. ‘I’m going out, and I don’t know what time I’ll be back, so don’t wait up.’

  Chapter 10

  When Norman arrived back at Slater’s at 7.30 a.m. the next morning, he could see his friend had obviously not slept well. He was eating his breakfast and trying, unsuccessfully, to look cheerful. ‘What’s the story with you and Watson?’

  ‘There is no me and Watson.’

  ‘I meant what’s her story about the car?’

  ‘I have no idea. She won’t return any of my calls. That’s why I say there is no me and Watson.’

  ‘You’re finished?’

  ‘I guess that’s what it means.’

  ‘But this isn’t the action of two grown-ups, is it? I may not know Watson as you do, but I can’t believe she would finish with you in this way. I’m sure she would tell you to your face.’

  Slater shrugged. ‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you, but the evidence seems to suggest you’re wrong.’

  ‘Maybe something happened to her,’ said Norman.

  ‘Something has happened to my bloody car, but I can’t get any sense out of her.’

  ‘Did you do something to piss her off?’

  ‘All I did was ask about my car? If anyone has a right to be pissed off, it’s me, not her!’

  Norman wasn’t convinced, and he stared hard at Slater. ‘You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you?’

  ‘What? You think I knew she was going to have my car destroyed?’

  ‘You know that’s not what I meant. Why wouldn’t she want to speak to you, or to see you?’

  ‘Maybe she realised how boring I am,’ said Slater, but he kept his eyes averted.

  ‘No, I don’t buy that,’ said Norman. ‘She can’t have thought you were boring or she would never have agreed to spend ten nights in Thailand with you. Anyway, I thought you told me she liked the new, adult Dave Slater even better than the old one.’

  ‘Sometimes things just aren’t meant to be,’ said Slater. ‘And the new, adult me is prepared
to accept that without the need to make a big deal out of it.’

  Norman studied Slater as he tried to work out what was what. ‘You told her it was over, didn’t you? But you haven’t seen her, so when did you do that?’

  Slater shrugged again.

  ‘Oh, no. Don’t tell me you did it by text! Jesus, how adult is that?’

  ‘I did not end it by text,’ said Slater. ‘If you must know, when we got off the plane from Thailand I told her we should give each other some space for a while.’

  ‘What? Why would you do that? What possible reason could you have?’

  ‘She misled me.’

  ‘What do you mean she misled you?’

  ‘She told me something the day before we left Thailand that she should have told me sooner.’

  ‘What did she tell you?’

  ‘That she has a daughter.’

  Norman hadn’t been expecting that and was momentarily lost for words, but he quickly recovered. ‘So? What’s the problem? Jane has three kids. It didn’t put me off.’

  ‘But you knew about them before you became an item.’

  ‘Well, yeah, that’s true, but did you consider how she might have wanted to tell you but found it difficult? I could imagine there are a whole lot of guys who’d like to spend a few nights with Watson but would run a mile if she mentioned a kid afterwards.’

  Slater looked distinctly uncomfortable.

  ‘Touch a nerve there, did I?’ asked Norman. ‘That’s what you did, isn’t it? You didn’t mind sharing a bed with her, but then as soon as she mentioned a kid you dropped her like a hot potato!’

  ‘That’s not fair,’ began Slater.

  ‘You’re right – it’s not fair. It’s not fair to Watson. Did you give her a chance to explain?’

  ‘I told you, I’ve been deceived before. If she had told me the truth from the start—’

  ‘Oh, come on, Dave, not that again! It was twenty years ago, and Debbie was cheating on you! It’s not the same thing at all. Are you going to let that ruin the rest of your life? So, Watson has a kid. It’s not the end of the world. Kids are great. They keep you young. Has it occurred to you that you might like having one around?’