by P. F. Ford
She looked a little uncomfortable. ‘I don’t call him Dibby,’ she said.
I was confused, and I obviously must have looked it. ‘But you said he was called-’
‘No. I call him DB. Not Dibby, but letter ‘D’ and letter ‘B’ – DB!’
DB was an old friend of ours. We all knew him as Dry Biro, but tended to shorten it to DB. He was as good as a mentor to me, and all of us had huge respect for him. It was through him that I had become involved with helping people and solving problems. Sadly, he had been attacked following one of our investigations and he’d been in hospital in a coma ever since.
‘But why would you name a cat after DB?’
‘Where I come from it tradition. You have word for, but not know.’ She looked a bit worried now, so I tried to help her.
‘You mean superstition?’ I offered. ‘It’s a sort of belief. Like believing in ghosts.’
‘Is right,’ she agreed. ‘Superstition. Like believe ghost. Exactly.’
She looked satisfied with her explanation but I needed a little bit more than that.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Never see cat before DB in hospital. Two day later, cat here. He DB as cat, so I call him DB. Is right.’
‘You mean you think the cat is DB? Like his ghost? But, Jelena, he’s not dead, he’s in a coma.’
‘Remember you say person in coma like he trapped in body. I say he find way to escape trap. Become cat.’
‘And you believe that’s true?’ I said, quite astonished that she seemed so sure of herself.
‘You can prove is not true?’ she challenged, folding her arms defiantly.
‘Well, no. I can’t actually prove it’s not true.’
‘But you don’t believe,’ she finished for me. ‘Okay. You believe what you want, I believe what I want.’
I had to admit, I was rather surprised by her conviction, but I had no intention of falling out with her over a cat. If she wanted to believe it was DB in another form, that was fine with me. Just as long as she didn’t expect me to start taking advice from him.
‘Okay,’ I conceded. ‘I’m not going to argue with you about it, but I insist we call him Dibby and not DB.’
She gave me one of her full power smiles. As far as she was concerned, she had got the better of me, but she was gracious enough not to gloat.
‘Dibby nice name. Is good.’
So that was it then. Discussion closed.
‘Now you here I do dinner. I do some for Aunt Sophia too. You want? Is only pasta.’
I knew Jelena’s ‘only pasta’ would be a delight. She had cooked for me before. And I realised I hadn’t eaten anything for ages.
‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’
She gave me a ‘don’t be so stupid’ look.
‘Would I ask if mind? See Aunt Sophia awake yet. Dinner in half hour.’
Sophia was awake when I entered her room, but she pretended not to be. I walked over and sat on the bed.
‘Hey,’ I said quietly, stroking her hair. ‘I know you’re awake. Jelena’s just doing some dinner for us.’
Finally, she cracked her eyes open and slowly sat up next to me.
‘Hi,’ I said. ‘How are you feeling.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what came over me.’
‘It’s alright,’ I said. ‘We all get upset at times, and sometimes we don’t really know why. As long as you’re feeling better. That’s what matters.’
‘Yes. I am feeling much better, thank you. I have been very foolish, but now I can see much more clearly. I have to make some big decisions. There are things I need to do.’
‘What decisions? What things? Let me help you.’
‘Listen to me, Alfie,’ she said. ‘I’m where I am now because of you, and it’s because of you I need to do what I have to do. But you have to let me do this on my own.’
‘What do you mean “because of me”? What have I done? Are you in trouble because of me?’
‘Shhhh!’ she whispered, placing a finger against my lips. Then she moved her hand to pull my face down to hers and gently kissed me.
‘Listen to me,’ she whispered. ‘I have waited a long time for someone I could trust enough to let near me. I know I am very hard work, but you have been more patient than a girl could really expect. You are kind, you are loyal and you are honest. You are a good man, Alfie. It’s time I stopped messing you around, but first there is something I must do. You have to trust me on this. Please.’
‘But-’
‘Please,’ she insisted.
I looked into her eyes. I knew I could do just about anything for this beautiful woman. Trusting her was not going to be a problem. She seemed to know what I was thinking and she pulled me in for a much longer kiss this time.
‘If you’re sure you’re okay?’ I asked as I held her.
‘Really. I know what I have to do. Trust me. I’m fine now,’ she assured me.
‘You want me to go now?’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, releasing me. ‘But yes. The sooner I get this done the better.’
‘But you’ll call me if you need me?’
‘Of course I will. I just need a day or two.’
I’m not sure I really understood what was happening, but there didn’t seem to be anything else I could do if she really wanted me to go.
Chapter Five
I had continued trying to call Positive Pete but it seemed he didn’t want to talk to me. Every time I called his mobile number it went straight to voicemail. I’d left a message the first time, but I didn’t see any point in leaving more. He would know from the first message that I wanted to talk to him; leaving more would just look desperate. I admit I was beginning to feel a little desperate, but I didn’t want to make it too obvious. I wondered if he would still want me to be his best man? Would he even want me at his wedding?
The more I thought about it, the more miserable I became. I needed to get busy and find something else to think about for a few hours. Then maybe my subconscious could figure out the best way to get through to Pete. Yep, that sounded like a plan.
Let’s try Dave Slater again. Perhaps he’ll answer my call this time…
‘Dave Slater.’
His tone was curt to say the least. He would know it was me from the caller display, so I figured this meant he was still hacked off with me. I wondered how I should play this to try and win him over, finally settling for trying to act normal and see what happens.
‘Ah, there you are at last. I’ve been trying to get hold of you all day. I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.’
‘No, I’m not avoiding you, it’s just that sometimes my job needs my full attention. Right now I’m only answering because I’m on a break, but I’ll warn you now, if you’ve called just to feed me another one of your fairy stories I’m going to hang up.’
‘Actually, I just phoned to see how you are and to find out if you’re still pissed off with me, but I think I’ve already found that out.’
‘I don’t like someone I thought was a friend treating me like I’m stupid. Is that so surprising?’
I had to confess he had a point, but I was in between a rock and a hard place with this one. Perhaps I could appeal to his better nature.
‘How about we meet up and I’ll buy you a beer.’
‘Not much chance of that happening in the near future.’
‘What? You’re not in trouble because of our evidence are you?’
‘What? No, don’t be daft. It’s nothing like that. I haven’t even written my report yet. All the usual stuff’s been put on hold. We have a major alert going down right now so everyone’s working non-stop. No chance of a social life.’
He was trying to sound hard-done-by, but I could tell he was excited by the situation. This was what his job was all about.
‘Wow!’ I said. ‘What’s the big deal?’
‘It’s all hush, hush, mate, so I can’t really te
ll you. But I can tell you this much – if you read the newspapers you should be able to work it out. We’ve even got a big noise from London down to show us how to do our job properly. In fact, now I’m thinking about it, you’d probably get on well with him – he thinks we’re all bloody stupid too.’
‘Ouch!’ I said. ‘That hurts. I don’t think you’re stupid as it happens, and you know it.’
‘Yeah, right. So you said before. But that’s not how it feels.’
‘Look, you caught the villain red-handed and you rescued the victim. What more do you want?’
‘Alright,’ he agreed reluctantly. ‘That much is true, but you owe me big-time if you want to put this right.’
‘Okay. Whatever. I do want to put it right. Just say the word,’ I conceded.
‘I’ll hold you to that when I get the chance,’ he said, eager to push home his advantage. ‘But right now I’m going to have to go.’
Slater seemed well satisfied with his moral victory. I was pleased too. Although it had been just a brief conversation, it seemed that at least this was one friendship that might just weather the storm.
Next, I decided it was time to check up on the person who had caused all these problems.
To be fair, it wasn’t really Billy Bumble’s fault. I mean, in the first place he didn’t ask to be kidnapped, and it was actually his wife Allison who had contacted me to ask for help in finding him. Billy really was the innocent victim in this whole situation.
To cut a long story short, Billy had been kidnapped by deranged Detective Inspector ‘Nasty’ Nash, who had decided it would be a good way of getting his own back on Allison. Nash also knew that Allison didn’t trust the police to help her and she would turn to me for help. Sure enough, Allison contacted me and I fell very neatly into Nash’s trap, taking Positive Pete with me. It all got a bit complicated from there, but with the intervention of local gangster Nugent, Billy was rescued, Nash was captured, and DS Slater got the credit. Like I said, it’s a long story…
Anyway, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to take a ride out to see them and make sure they were alright – at least they might be pleased to see me, and I could do with a couple of friendly faces right now.
The Dump was the local name for the rather crappy housing estate where Allison and Billy lived. It wasn’t far from the centre of town where I lived, so it only took a few minutes to get there.
I parked outside their house with its signature pile of rubbish blocking the path to the side door. Allison refused to accept that no one was going to collect her rubbish until she put it in a bin and left it out the front of her house like everyone else. I was pretty sure it was only a matter of time before the local council pointed out the fact that it was becoming a health hazard, but I didn’t envy the poor guy who would have to serve the notice to her. She was notorious for her mistrust of authority and harboured a huge persecution comple,x which I have had the misfortune to be on the wrong side of in the past.
So, even though I was visiting as a friend, I was filled with trepidation as I walked up to the front door and knocked. Would I be welcomed or assaulted? I took a couple of steps back from the door just in case. Allison was a rather large lady so I should be able to run faster than her, and now I had a start. But nothing happened.
Gingerly, I stepped back up to the door and knocked again. This time I stayed by the door and listened. Not a sound. They must be out. So that had been a wasted journey. I was disappointed to have missed them, but at the same time I was relieved to have avoided being mistakenly identified as the enemy once again. At least I was in one piece.
I walked slowly back to my car, climbed in, and started the engine. Most of the houses on this part of the estate were arranged around the outside of a central green. Or at least, it was called a green, and I suppose one day it had been covered in green grass. Now, though, it would have been more appropriately named a brown.
Most of the grass had been worn away by the local kids who used the area as a football pitch, skate park etc. The odd patch of grass had survived here and there, so maybe it would qualify as a ‘green and brown’, or perhaps an ‘olive’. Worse still, many of the local residents regarded the green as the ideal place to dump broken machinery. It was littered with old washing machines, dead fridges, and even a couple of broken cars.
The green was roughly rectangular and the road served as the perimeter, with each house set back far enough to allow for a driveway long enough to park a car. When it was first built, this had been a great idea and the road was kept clear of cars. Nowadays, when almost every family had two or even more cars, many parked in the road, which meant there was only just enough room for through traffic. This was a particular problem in the evenings, at night, and at weekends when people were at home, but not so much during the day when most people were at work.
I cruised slowly around the green, not really focusing on anything in particular. As I reached a point opposite Allison’s house, I had the feeling I was being watched. I looked at the house I was passing. It had net curtains, but the curtain had been pulled back in one of the bedroom windows and I could clearly see a face looking down at me. It was a man’s face, and it seemed familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. I had seen that face before, but couldn’t think where. Isn’t it annoying when that happens?
Heading off the estate and back onto the main road I quickly forgot about the face and headed back into town. Right then, I had nothing better to do so I thought about what Dave Slater had said. He couldn’t tell me what he was working on, but he said if I read a newspaper I should be able to work it out. In that case, perhaps I’d better pick one up on the way home.
I resisted the temptation to open the newspaper until I got home. I tended to keep up with the news by listening to radio or catching bulletins on TV, so actually reading a newspaper was a bit of a novelty. The best way to enjoy it would be to make a cup of tea, sit at the table, and spread the newspaper out. It was almost like a big event.
I worked my way slowly through the newspaper from the front page, making sure to check out every story. I had got to page seven and so far nothing had caught my eye. I turned over to page eight. There was a big head and shoulders photo of a man under the headline ‘Fugitive on the run!’ Now I’m not one for theatricals and overacting, but for a moment I stopped breathing and I’m sure my heart missed a couple of beats. I’d seen that face before.
Just a few nights before, when Billy Bumble had been rescued, I’d been given a lift home in a police car in the early hours. They’d dropped me off in town and shortly afterwards, a Rolls Royce had glided past. That man had been looking at me from the back seat. He’d made a gun with his hand and aimed at me. And that same man had been watching me drive around the green at The Dump less than an hour ago.
There was a major criminal on the run and he was holed up in Tinton. And I knew exactly where he was.
Holy shit! Just wait until I tell Dave Slater about this.
Chapter Six
I’d been ringing Dave’s number since lunchtime. I’d left at least three messages, but it was now close to five pm and still he hadn’t called me back. I decided it was time to bypass his mobile and try calling the station – maybe I would have a bit more success that way. It took a whole lot of hanging on and I had to relay the same reason for calling to three different people, but eventually I tracked him down.
‘DS Slater,’ said the familiar voice.
‘Dave, it’s Alfie. I’ve been trying to reach you all afternoon.’
‘Yes, I know. It’s very flattering that you feel the need to pursue me, but I told you we’re working our arses off here. I haven’t got time to go for a pint. This had better be important.’
‘Now who’s treating a friend as if they’re stupid?’ I said. ‘I’m well aware how busy you are. D’you really think I’d be calling if it wasn’t important?’
‘But I’m tied up on this big case, and-’
‘And have you found him yet?’ I interrupte
d.
‘Found who?’ Slater sounded cautious so I guessed there must be unwelcome ears nearby.
‘Slick Tony. That’s what the papers are calling him.’
‘Look, I haven’t got time for this now-’
‘I know where he is.’
There was a brief, stunned silence, followed by an unexpected shift in his attitude.
‘Look,’ he snarled. ‘If this is another one of your stunts, I’ll, I’ll…’
‘Is that what you really think of me?’ I asked, disappointed. ‘Do you really think I would want to waste your time? Or is it more likely I would want to try and help you?’
Now there was a different silence. I could almost hear him struggling to believe me.
‘Well, it’s your choice, Dave. I can put the phone down now and stop wasting your time, or you can listen to what I have to say and maybe you’ll learn where your fugitive is.’
Finally, he seemed to make his mind up.
‘Alright,’ he said. ‘I’ll buy it. But this is too big for me to meet you for a pint. You’ll have to come down here and talk to me and my temporary boss, DI Jimmy Jones.’
‘I’ll be at the front desk in fifteen minutes,’ I agreed.
‘We’ll be waiting,’ he said.
True to his word, a worried-looking Dave Slater was waiting for me by the front desk at the Tinton police station. I was quickly whisked away and found myself being led into an interview room. A single table was in the centre of the bare room, two chairs to one side and one chair on what I assumed was going to be my side.
DI Jimmy Jones stood to greet me and shake my hand.
‘Mr Bowman, do take a seat.’
I’m not really sure what I was expecting, but the young man before me wasn’t it. By my reckoning he looked a bit young to be a DI so I immediately marked him down as some sort of ‘smartarse whizz-kid’. Judging people on first appearance is a very bad habit of mine which most times I’m able to curb, but every now and then I find it quite impossible. This was one of those occasions.