Shut Up and Drive: DI Ted Darling Book 4

by L M Krier

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Kevin Turner's office was not far from that of the Ice Queen. As soon as Ted stepped out into the corridor, he could hear Kevin's raised voice coming from there, delivering what sounded like a monumental bollocking to one or more of his unfortunate officers.

  The door opened to a bellow of, 'And if I hear about anything like this again from you two clowns, a bloody disciplinary will be the least of your worries!'

  Two guilty-looking young constables slunk out of the office, standing aside and holding the door open for Ted to go in. He'd only just sat down when the door opened again behind him, after the briefest of knocks, and the Ice Queen came in. Ted and Kevin both snapped instantly to their feet, probably looking equally as guilty as the young officers. She had that effect on them both.

  'Raised voices, Inspector Turner? Was it something I should know about?'

  'No, ma'am, it's all sorted. Just young officers who take themselves for boy racers and like throwing their weight around. It won't happen again.'

  'I'm pleased to hear it. But may I just remind you that there is a procedure to be followed in dealing with such matters? I don't want to be confronted by allegations of bullying by senior officers.'

  She turned to leave, then paused and looked back at them. 'Gentlemen, please don't feel obliged to stand up every time I come into the room. But thank you for the courtesy,' she added as she left the room.

  'Bloody hell, Ted, all this sodding paperwork and disciplinaries. Why can't we just kick them up the arse, like in the good old days? How do they expect us to get any respect from the public when they don't show any? Allegations of bullying? Utter shit. But blimey, what did you make of that? Is the Ice Queen going soft?' Kevin said, busily rummaging in his top drawer.

  'Aslan's breath has reached Narnia and started the thaw,' Ted smiled.

  Kevin had found what he was looking for. He pulled out two small sachets of a preparation for indigestion, ripped the corners off both of them with his teeth, and greedily sucked out the contents. One hand instinctively went to his stomach as he did so, rubbing it gently.

  'Er, aren't you supposed to take those one at a time?' Ted asked him.

  'One does nothing for me. I might as well eat Smarties. I'll be mainlining them next. What is it with you and this Narnia stuff, anyway?'

  'Didn't you ever read it to your girls? My dad and I read all the Chronicles of Narnia together when I was little.'

  'My two were much more into Beauty and the Beast and that sort of stuff. Speaking of the girls - and if you breathe a word of this to anyone, you're a dead man - I'm going to be a granddad. Melissa's pregnant.'

  'Congratulations, Kev, that's great news,' Ted leaned forward and shook his hand. 'Have you time for a quick pint after work? Wet the baby's head? I'd say lunchtime but I promised Maurice a pint for services above and beyond the call of duty. But first, please tell me you've seen someone about the state your guts are in?'

  Kevin nodded, still gently massaging his stomach. 'The doc thinks it's an ulcer. Wants me to be seen in hospital for one of those, what d'you call it? Where they shove a camera down your gob while you're awake? But I can't do it, Ted. I'm shitting myself at the prospect. Makes me gag, just thinking about it. I've told the wife it's just indigestion and it'll be fine.'

  'What a pair of old crocks,' Ted smiled. 'I'm on pills for stress at the moment, but keep that between us, if you would. And seriously, you can't mess about with an ulcer. It might perforate. I think they can knock you out for it, if you tell them you're that worried.'

  Kevin snorted. 'Twenty-two years of wedded bliss, because there's a lot about me the missus still doesn't know. Particularly what a big coward I am about stuff like this. But you, on stress-busters? I thought all the green tea and high kicking took care of that? We're getting bloody middle-aged, Ted, that's about the long and the short of it.'

  Ted nodded in agreement, then went on to bring Kevin up to speed with the latest developments on the case. He also broached his suggestion that they pool their resources in terms of officers when it came to trying to track down the attacker, now they had a name to go on.

  'He is dangerous, Kev, it needs to be stab vests all round, all the time,' he warned.

  Another snort. 'Assuming we have enough to go round. Honest, Ted, the way they keep cutting back resources, they'll be issuing us with lolly sticks instead of batons next. And the dog section will probably get toy poodles instead of German Shepherds, because they cost less to feed.'

  'I'll keep you posted, Kev, as soon as I have some definite locations to check. We're also trawling through what vans have been nicked recently, see if we can get some idea of what he's likely to be driving round in now. Always assuming the burnt-out Sprinter was his. Let's do that pint, later on.'

  When he got back up to his office, Ted decided that he better send Trev a text, just to let him know he was fine but was going for a drink with Kevin after work. He knew his partner would be worried and didn't want to cause him any more anxiety than he already had.

  A brief knock on his door was followed by Jezza's head appearing round the gap. She was still not used to seeing the boss in his new reading glasses but wisely made no further comment about them, seeing how self-conscious he looked as he pulled them hastily off.

  'Have you got a minute, boss?'

  'Of course, Jezza. Come in, sit down. Do you want some tea? How are you doing?'

  'I'd be a lot better if people stopped asking me how I was doing,' she retorted, but she was smiling at him. 'Green tea would be perfect, thanks, boss.'

  Ted had only just made himself a drink so it didn't take long to boil the kettle again and put a mugful in front of her.

  'What can I do for you?'

  She took a swallow of her tea before replying. She drank it straight, not laced with honey as Ted preferred it. He'd always had a sweet tooth.

  'I went to see Olivia Radnor a couple of days ago,' she began. 'The crime writer. The one who found me. I wanted to thank her, so I took her round a bunch of flowers. She was very kind to me. I wanted to tell her in person how much I appreciated it.'

  'Dances with Wolves?' Ted asked her, then, seeing her querying look, he laughed. 'That's what Rob calls her, because of those two great big beasts of hers.'

  'Those dogs are impeccably behaved. She has them beautifully trained. I've met plenty of coppers with worse manners, believe me. Anyway, we had quite a chat. She was caring and considerate. She said if I needed to talk to someone, about what happened to me, she could recommend a friend of hers who specialises in such things. She said her name was Heather Cooper.'

  Ted put his mug down and stared at her. 'Does she not know Ms Cooper has left town under something of a cloud? Does she not read the papers?'

  'Apparently not. She told me that when she's in the middle of writing a new book, as she is at the moment, she avoids the papers and the radio, apart from listening to classical music. She said she doesn't have a television, and I certainly didn't see one. According to her, she likes to keep away from it all, to keep her mind clear and uncluttered for working on the book.

  'She gave me a signed copy of one of her books. Crime fiction, right? Not my sort of thing at all, but I thought I'd give it a go. It was only a light read, didn't take me long. The thing is, boss, it was Jenny Holden's story. Not identical, of course. But the bare bones of it were all there. A woman who discovers, during a therapy session, that she was raped in the past by a man she knew and trusted.

  'In the book, the woman goes to the police and tries to get them to take her seriously, but for reasons which aren't all that clear from the way it's written, the police decide on a massive cover-up instead. A lot of the police procedure is just total crap, but close enough to be credible to gullible readers who don't know any better. The woman goes on a sort of solo mission and solves it all herself, forcing the police to arrest the man, blah-blah-blah.

  'What's really interesting, boss, is that all this was written and publis
hed before any of the stories about Jenny Holden and the Dodgy Doc made the papers. Well before. So it looks as if Ms Cooper was feeding her friend the Agatha Christie woman with ideas for her fiction. And we know now that some of what she was feeding her was probably fiction to begin with.'

  'We don't know that for sure,' Ted reminded her. 'Jenny Holden had a lot of problems. I believe it's just possible that the idea could have come from her, not from the therapist. But we won't know anything for sure until the inquest. That might just throw up more information than we have at the moment.'

  'I presume there will need to be some sort of police enquiry into the Dodgy Doc? So I wondered if I could be a part of that? It's not connected to the rapes, so there's no reason why I shouldn't work on it, is there?' she asked.

  'I've read up on everything that was in the press already, and on the basis of that, I've just started reading the Cooper woman's Barbed Wire book. In particular, I read the chapter about her 'saving' young people from their mistaken ideas about their sexuality. And I read the interviews Pocket Billiards did with some of the young people.

  'Boss, we have to go after this woman. She's dangerous, and there must be something illegal in it, surely? So can I work on that?'

  Ted leaned back in his chair and looked at her thoughtfully. More than anything, he wanted to see Heather Cooper brought to justice, if it was humanly possible. The idea that she had been leaking sensationalist stories to form part of fiction written for titillation disgusted him beyond measure. But he was well and truly off the case. His hands were tied.

  'Jezza, what I'm going to tell you now stays between you and me, within these four walls, please.'

  She nodded her understanding, so he continued, 'I did go and see Ms Cooper, in connection with the Jenny Holden case, it's true. I took Maurice with me for back-up. She made the mistake of showing me her leaflets with her so-called treatment for sexuality issues. That was the first I knew about that. I'm not proud to say I nearly lost it in there. Maurice had to drag me out.

  'For that reason, I cannot take any part at all in an investigation of any kind into her, although clearly there needs to be one, and there will be. I've also made some enquiries with the CPS and it seems that in terms of the claims about sexuality in her leaflets, nothing there breaches any laws. It's all been carefully worded.

  'Because of my run-in with her, and her reaction to it, I am not allowed to pursue the issue any further myself. Therefore, I cannot put you onto the investigation, and I cannot give you any work hours to look into her.

  'However, I have asked you not to take any part in the morning briefings into the rape cases. So, what if I were to ask you to get all of Ms Radnor's books, and slip me the bill? Then you could use my office during briefings to see how many of her fictions have any basis on the cases mentioned in the Barbed Wire book, during that time. I could then probably see that the information went to the right place.'

  Jezza grinned broadly at him. 'Boss, you little rebel, are you actually playing it other than by the book?'

  'Perish the thought, DC Vine,' Ted said with a wink, 'just covering all bases. And by the way, I really hope you will consider going and talking to Carol, whose card I gave you. I'm sure you'd find it helpful, and she is easy to talk to. She's a trained professional and nothing remotely like Ms Cooper. You just won't be able to have the last appointment on a Wednesday afternoon – that's mine.'

  Ted walked and Maurice limped the short distance to The Grapes at lunchtime.

  'Sorry about your feet, Maurice,' Ted said apologetically, as they sat down at a quiet corner table, Ted facing the door, Maurice sideways on to it. 'In fact, I'm sorry for my behaviour generally. I was a bit low so I behaved like an idiot.'

  Ted took off his trench coat and pulled a box of tablets out of one of his pockets.

  'You'll be pleased to see I'm now on medication, so there shouldn't be a repeat performance. And thanks for keeping it to yourself.'

  'No worries, Ted,' Maurice replied, relaxed and informal while it was just the two of them, away from the office. 'The job's a bitch at times, it can get to any of us. Probably affects you worse because you're a decent bloke. You care about stuff, and about people.'

  'Pint, is it? And do you want something to eat?' Ted asked, standing up to escape his embarrassment.

  'A half's fine. And have they got any salad?' Seeing Ted's startled expression, he explained, 'All that yomping round the hills made me realise just how unfit I am. I put on a ton of weight when I quit smoking and started eating sticky buns instead, so now I'm trying to do something about it.'

  Ted's mobile phone rang as he was waiting at the bar for their drinks and food. It was his good friend and former boss, Jim Baker.

  'Afternoon, Darling.'

  'Afternoon, Super.'

  He and Ted could never resist the chance to exchange the old joke. It masked their strong mutual affection.

  'I hope you and Trev are free Saturday week? I've finally popped the question, Bella's said yes and we're having a bit of an engagement party that evening. Of course, we'd both love it if the two of you could be there, to wish us well.'

  'And we'd both be honoured to be there, Jim. You know that, for me, it will depend on the local scrotes and what they get up to. I have a feeling we have a karate tournament that weekend. We're both on the club team. But I'll get there somehow, for as long as I can, and I'm sure Trev will be there, too.'

  Jim was keen to chat about the current case, but when Ted explained that he was armed with a half pint and a meal with Maurice's name on it, he said, a slightly wistful note in his voice, 'Fair enough, Ted, another time. Give my best to Maurice, and to all the team. I hope to see you Saturday week.'

  He'd no sooner sat down at the table with their food and drinks than his mobile went again. It was Trev, and he was not best pleased.

  'What's this text about taking Kevin for a pint after work?' he demanded. 'Have you forgotten already that you've got a doctor's appointment this evening?'

  Ted cringed. He had forgotten. Completely. He guessed it was because he had no faith in their GP and didn't really want to go.

  'Er, I thought I could go to the appointment then meet up with Kevin afterwards,' he began, lamely.

  'Don't bullshit me, Ted, it doesn't suit you and it won't work. You're rubbish at it,' Trev actually sounded angry with him. 'You either completely forgot about it or you were going to swerve going then tell me you'd forgotten. If I wasn't so busy at work, I'm come and take you myself.'

  'Sorry,' Ted told him, genuinely apologetic. 'I honestly had forgotten, nothing more sinister than that. I will go, promise.'

  Trev ended the call much more abruptly than usual. It looked like Ted would have more making up to do when they were both back home that evening.

  'In the dog house?' Maurice asked sympathetically. 'Someone sleeping in the spare room tonight?'

  'I completely forgot I had a doctor's appointment this evening, to get more pills. Trev was not amused. If it's anything like last time we went, for him, she'll give me two minutes of her time while she just scribbles out a repeat prescription,' he sighed. 'But I have promised Trev, and I'll make the same promise to you, Maurice. I'll get on top of it. No more night-time concerts on Kinder.'

  'My feet are bloody glad to hear it, boss,' Maurice grunted in reply.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Ted decided he better return home bearing peace tokens once more. He hated being at odds with his partner and he had genuinely forgotten all about his appointment, even if Trev hadn't believed him. Now that he'd been reminded, he would go, because he'd promised. He could easily put his drink with Kevin off to a different day.

  He stopped on the way to buy a decent bottle of wine then, on a whim, nipped into a nearby florist and bought a single red rose in a cellophane sleeve. He'd inflicted one of his favourite films, Blazing Saddles, on Trev so often that he hoped he would remember the line and appreciate the joke.

  It was a different doctor to the
one he'd seen when he'd been with Trev for his appointment. They were both lucky enough to be in good health and hardly ever needed to visit the surgery. This time, the doctor was a man, a good bit older than the woman they had seen, and his manner was considerably less peremptory.

  He did, at least, check Ted's blood pressure and his heart, then he carefully studied the prescription he had been given at the hospital. He asked a few questions and nodded in satisfaction when Ted mentioned he was attending counselling sessions.

  'I don't envy you your job in these difficult times, Inspector,' he said, as he wrote out a prescription renewal. 'It looks as if we are currently covering all bases and your blood pressure is already looking a little less disconcerting. I hate to trot out the old cliché but, keep taking the tablets. Above all, keep attending the counselling. If you ever have any more concerns, don't hesitate to come back.'

  Trev's bike was already in the garage when Ted put his Renault away and went into the house. He headed for the kitchen, the bottle of wine held in front of him like a shield, the rose concealed behind his back.

  'Sorry,' he said as soon as he saw Trev. 'I honestly had forgotten all about it. But I've been, just now. The doctor says I'm doing fine and I just need to keep taking the tablets. Here, have some wine. Is that the right one?'

  Trev took the bottle, still looking a little cool and unforgiving, then studied the label. 'Wow. I thought we were economising? This is very nice indeed. Thank you.'

  'We are, but I wanted you to know I'm really sorry, for everything,' Ted said sincerely, then produced the red rose from behind his back. It had exactly the desired effect.

  Trev threw back his head and laughed out loud, his blue eyes suddenly sparkling with their familiar warmth. 'Oh, a wed wose. How womantic,' he lisped, the perfect delivery of the line from the film.