by P. F. Ford
A Handsome Stranger
by
P.F. Ford
Cover Design by Angie Zambrano
Edited by KT Editing Services
© 2013 P.F. Ford
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events in this book are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real life counterparts is purely coincidental.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
A Complete Fiasco
Chapter One
The last few days had been pretty crappy. My best mate Positive Pete was still not talking to me, my girlfriend, Sophia, was annoyed with me for waking her in the middle of the night to ask for the spare key to my flat, and I figured Detective Sergeant Dave Slater was still smarting over the tall story Pete and I had told him, as I hadn’t heard from him.
But at least I had managed to find someone who didn’t seem to be annoyed with me. I had been brooding over a cup of coffee in Sophia’s tea shop below our flats when her niece and business partner, Jelena, had come over with her own coffee to join me.
‘You want to keep sulk yourself, or can I join you?’ she asked.
Her English had improved enormously from when she had first arrived, but there was still the occasional grammatical lapse. I know she was working hard to improve still further, but secretly I hoped she never got to be perfect. To me, the idiosyncratic nature of her speech, combined with her accent, were part of her charm. Add in her engaging attitude and stunning good looks, and it was no surprise the tea shop had grown into a thriving business which she now ran with the help of two assistants.
I looked up and smiled. Jelena never failed to raise my spirits with her infectious brand of humour and common sense, often offering opinions and advice that seemed to come from the wisdom of someone much, much older. I’d decided not long after we’d first met that if I had ever had a daughter, I would have liked her to have been just like Jelena.
‘Of course you can join me. I always have time for you, you know that,’ I said. And I meant it.
She eased herself into the seat opposite me and looked hard at me with her big, beautiful, brown eyes.
‘You want talk about?’ she asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
‘It’s just been a crappy few days,’ I said, glumly. ‘I’m sure it will pass soon enough.’
She took a sip from her coffee. ‘So tell me.’ She smiled from behind her cup. ‘Maybe if share load, make pass quicker.’
‘Well, where shall I start? First of all, there’s your Aunt Sophia. She wasn’t exactly happy about her next door neighbour coming round to borrow a spare key in the early hours of the morning. Not that I blame her for that, but it was an emergency. I seem to have the unfortunate knack of moving our relationship forward one step and then taking it back two steps by doing something to annoy her.’
‘You can stop worry. Aunt Sophia not annoyed. Know what happen that night. Think you very brave to rescue that man. I tell you before, she like you very much. Problem is, you don’t believe.’
This was a favourite theme for Jelena. It wasn’t the first time she had lectured me about my relationship with Sophia.
‘But she hasn’t spoken to me since. It’s been four days now,’ I said.
‘And have you been to see her and speak to her?’
Is there anything worse than being told the obvious?
‘Err, well, no. I just assumed she wouldn’t want to see me.’
‘How you say…’ She thought for a moment, then a twinkle came into her eyes as she remembered what she wanted to say. ‘When you make assume you make ass of you and me. Yes?’
She said it slowly and carefully, as if she was explaining something really difficult to a small child.
‘Yes. Right,’ I agreed reluctantly.
‘Okay,’ she assured me. ‘So you only have make big ass of yourself. Now go see Aunt Sophia and talk to her.’
She gave me an impish smile. ‘Is right. Problem solve. Anyway, she already upset by something else that night, before you came wake up.’
‘What?’ I asked, curious now. ‘What upset her?’
‘Don’t know. She had phone call. Whatever was make her angry, but not tell me who call or what about. She is, how you say, moody ever since. To be honest, I worried about her, but I can’t make her talk. Whatever is, I know is not you.’
‘Do you think I can help her? You know I will if I can.’
‘Maybe you ask her, when you speak to.’
She sat back and looked pleased with herself. As far as she was concerned, problem number one had been dealt with.
‘Is good, yes? Okay, next problem,’ she said, warming to her task.
‘I don’t think you can sort this one out quite so easily.’
‘So tell me.’
‘It’s Positive Pete.’
Positive Pete was my best mate. We’d been through all sorts together, but I’d made a big mistake during our last escapade and I was really concerned I may have pushed my luck a bit too far.
‘I like Peter,’ she said, smiling. ‘Nice man, and much happier now have Daphne as partner.’
‘Yeah,’ I agreed. ‘He is a nice guy. One of the best. But I made a mess of things while we were looking for Billy Bumble and I may just have ruined the best friendship I’ve ever had.’
Jelena looked horrified. ‘Oh no! Whatever you did?’
‘It was stupid of me,’ I began. ‘We had trekked across this bog, up a damned great hill, and then crawled under this filthy, dusty hedge. We were just sort of resting up wondering what to do next when I mentioned that the guy holding Billy hostage might have a gun. I hadn’t said anything before because I really didn’t believe it was true, and in the excitement of it all I just seemed to forget.’
‘And what Peter say?’ she asked.
‘He went ballistic. Called me all sorts of names. He was going to turn around and leave me there. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he had. He was right, of course. I should have told him. I just didn’t think…’
I stopped talking as I relived that moment. My hands were on the table. Jelena reached out and laid her hand on mine.
‘Then what happen?’ she quietly asked.
‘Before he could get away, this huge guy, Gregov, you remember him?’
Jelena nodded. It was an incident involving her and him that had brought us together in the first place.
‘Well,’ I continued, ‘Gregov came out of the house waving a shotgun at us and we had to surrender. Pete thought we were going to die. I think we both did.’
‘Is not good,’ said Jelena, looking gloomy. ‘No wonder not happy. Is still angry with you?’
‘I guess he must be – he won’t answer my calls. Daphne says he doesn’t want to speak to me. She thinks he’ll come round in a while, but I’m not so sure. He’d just asked me to be his best man, too. He’s going to ask Daphne to marry him.’
I don’t know if I looked as helpless as I felt right then, but I think I might have because Jelena gave my hand a sympathetic squeeze.
/> ‘You have been friend long time,’ she said, solemnly. ‘Daphne right.’ She took my hand in both of hers and looked into my eyes. ‘I don’t know answer this problem now, but I think about.’
I wasn’t optimistic about her coming up with an answer if her current mood was any sort of guide. It wasn’t like her to be sombre, but the mood didn’t last long. Her impish smile was soon back in place to lift my gloom.
‘Are more problem you want talk about? Nurse Jelena still has few minute break time left.’
Now it was my turn to take her hands.
‘It’s very good of you to take the time to listen, but you shouldn’t be sitting here listening to the self-made problems of an old fool like me,’ I told her.
She gave me a look of disdain.
‘But what is friend for?’ she said. ‘Good friend share bad time as well as good time. You were only person help me when first came here. Jelena not forget this. You good friend to me, and I good friend to you, forever, yes?’
‘Yes. Yes of course,’ I agreed.
‘Is good,’ said Jelena.
In Jelena-speak, ‘is good’ simply means the issue is resolved and there is no need for further discussion.
‘So, who else you piss off?’ she asked, making me laugh out loud with the simple directness of her question.
‘Have I mentioned Dave Slater?’
She looked puzzled.
‘You remember the detective sergeant who helped me when I was a murder suspect?’
‘Ah, yes. I remember him,’ she said, with a sly grin. ‘Have hots for me, I think.’
I laughed again. ‘I don’t think that should be held against him,’ I said. ‘I would imagine most guys Dave Slater’s age “have hots” for you. You’re a very attractive young lady.’
She gave me a conspiratorial wink. ‘Oh, I not unhappy about. Maybe I have hots for him!’
I smiled, ruefully. ‘Well, whatever you two may feel for each other, I’m certainly not in his good books right now.’
‘You break law?’
‘Not exactly. Let’s say I had to be a little economical with the truth about what happened when we found Billy Bumble. The thing is, he knows we told him a pack of lies and he’s not happy about it.’
‘But, he catch bad men and rescue Bumbly Billy, yes?’
‘Oh yeah, it all worked out okay. I think he was just a bit hacked off that we got there first. But we couldn’t tell him what really happened because we didn’t want to get Nugent involved. The thing is, without Nugent we would have been dead. It’s all a bit complicated. It would take ages to explain it properly.’
She shook her head. ‘Not know this Nugent.’
‘Probably better you keep it that way,’ I said. ‘He’s not exactly the sort of guy I’d want to introduce you to.’
‘So why you think you upset Dave Slater?’
‘He said he’d be in touch and he hasn’t.’
‘Maybe he busy. Maybe something more important. Like Aunt Sophia, maybe you need call him. Yes?’
‘Err, well, yes. I suppose you’re right.’
She smiled a sweet, knowing smile.
‘I am woman. Of course I am right.’
She had finished her coffee and now she stood up.
‘Sorry, I have to go now,’ she said. ‘And you need speak to Aunt Sophia, Positive Pete and Sergeant Slater, yes? How you say? You know it make sense, yes?’
‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘It makes perfect sense.’
‘Problem solve,’ she said as she turned to go. ‘Is good.’
As always, spending just a few minutes with Jelena was enough to lift my spirits, and make my problems seem much more manageable. And, of course, she was right. I did need to do some talking. And I was going to start with Sophia.
Chapter Two
A couple of miles away at Tinton police station, Detective Sergeant Dave Slater was not having a good morning. It had started well enough but events had taken a turn for the worst the moment he had arrived for work.
Three days ago, a major alert had been instigated and for a day, the whole station had been in uproar. Apparently, some heavyweight London gangster was on the run and according to the smartarses in London’s Serious Crime Unit, he was somewhere in the Tinton area.
By the end of that first day, it emerged that the general feeling among the police officers down in Tinton was that this scenario was highly unlikely, and as a result of their own assessment, they had been going through the motions ever since, using it as an excuse to clock up some easy overtime and delay the laborious form-filling that had become such a huge part of their jobs.
To a man, they were quite convinced it would blow over in a week or so when the smartarses finally realised no self-respecting London gangster was going to waste his time in a tinpot little town like Tinton. So the atmosphere in the station had been almost holiday-like for the last couple of days. Slater realised things were about to change big-time, however, as soon as he arrived for work and was told he should report to the briefing room.
‘And if I were you,’ warned the duty sergeant, ‘I would forget about collecting a bacon sandwich and cup of tea first.’
‘You’re kidding, right?’ said Slater.
‘You’re already ten minutes late for work.’
‘Yeah, but who’s counting?’
‘Chief Inspector Smartarse from the Serious Crime Unit is upstairs now waiting to hold a briefing. He was ready to start at zero-seven-hundred when all of you lot should have been coming on duty. I don’t know how much patience he has, but as only two out of six have bothered to turn up so far, I’m sure we’re going to find out very soon. You walk in there carrying your breakfast and how do you think that’s going to look?’
‘Ah. Right. I see what you mean. But why didn’t anyone bloody warn us he was coming?’
‘Because we didn’t bloody know he was coming until he walked in here at six-thirty this morning, that’s why. You obviously don’t have a bloody crystal ball, so why the hell do you expect me to have one?’
The sergeant was glaring angrily at Slater.
‘Ok, Bill. Point taken,’ said Slater hurriedly. ‘Blimey, who’s pulled your string this morning?’
‘Perhaps, instead of complaining that you weren’t warned the guy was coming, you should consider the fact that if you lazy buggers were doing your jobs properly and getting here on time, I wouldn’t have got my balls chewed off by the chief inspector when he arrived today. The man’s not an idiot. He knows you lot have been sitting on your arses waiting for this alert to blow over. He knows it, I know it, and you all know it, so don’t be surprised if the first thing he does is kick your backsides all over the shop.’
The duty sergeant pointedly turned his attention away from Slater and back to the paperwork he had been studying before he had been interrupted. There was an embarrassing silence as Slater accepted his guilt. It was true, none of them had taken this thing seriously, and now they were going to have to take the bollocking that was coming.
‘Well, go on,’ snapped the sergeant. ‘Get moving. I’ve had my balls chewed off, now you can go and get yours done.’
‘Right. Yes,’ agreed Slater. ‘Better not keep him waiting any longer.’
What a great way to start the day, thought Slater, as he reluctantly climbed the stairs up to the briefing room.
The bollocking was delivered with great purpose by Chief Inspector Smartarse – or whatever his real name was – and had obviously been carefully designed to make them all feel small and ineffective. In Slater’s eyes, all it really succeeded in doing was driving an enormous wedge between the Tinton officers and the Serious Crime Unit. It seems they were all ‘lazy, useless and pathetic’. They wouldn’t last five minutes in ‘a place where they do real police work like the Serious Crime Unit’.
The speech wasn’t so much peppered with ‘f’ words as slathered with them. Even DC Richie Weir, a long-standing officer with little ambition and about an equal amount of ability, who c
ould swear with the best of them, looked a little taken aback by the sheer ferocity of the swearing.
‘I thought I could swear,’ he whispered to Slater, ‘but this bloke makes me sound fuckin’ polite.’
Then the chief inspector announced he was going straight on to see the chief constable to make his feelings known about the useless bunch of wankers at Tinton, who thought they had a right to call themselves police officers. But first, he introduced them to the man who was going to lead the investigation in Tinton.
His name was Detective Inspector Jimmy Jones. Slater didn’t envy the man, having to follow the chief inspector. Picking up the pieces and trying to create some team spirit and unity wasn’t going to be easy. Slater almost felt sorry for him.
‘Right, gents,’ he began, looking at the motley collection of detectives. Tinton was only a small town and there were just six of them in total. Jones was probably used to having plenty of skills to choose from.
‘Before we try to sort out this shambles, I suggest we all grab a cup of tea and a bacon sandwich. Then, when you come back we’ll get started. It’s a much smaller team than I’m used to working with, but once we know for sure our man’s here we’ll maybe draft in some expertise from Serious Crime.’
He looked at the clock before turning back to them.
‘Right. Go and sort yourselves out and do whatever you need to do. I want you all back here for a proper briefing at zero-eight-hundred sharp. You will be wide awake and ready for action. Everybody got that?’
He looked around the room. There were no dissenting voices.
‘Thank you, gentlemen.’
Well, there goes his chance to make a good impression, thought Slater, as the atmosphere in the room lowered to an icy silence. The only sound was that of chairs scraping as the team stood to leave the room.
‘Which one of you is DS Slater?’ asked Jones before Slater could escape.
‘That’s me.’
‘Could I have a word, please?’
Slater’s face fell as he saw his chance to grab some breakfast disappearing.
‘It’s okay, I’ll get it for you,’ called his young partner, DC Steve Biddeford. They’d only been partners for a short while, and even though Biddeford could be remarkably naive at times, there was no doubting he was keen to learn and would make a good copper in time. And anyway, Slater thought Biddeford was a genuinely good guy, the sort he was happy to work with. And there weren’t many of his colleagues he could say that about.