A Handsome Stranger

by P. F. Ford

  I waggled a finger at him just to emphasise my point. The sadist in me was rather enjoying his discomfort. I get nervous every time I come anywhere near this house, and Allison regards me as a friend. I could only imagine how Dave must have been feeling. He certainly looked nervous enough.

  ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s get this over with before I lose my bottle.’

  We climbed from the van and began to walk up the path to Allison’s front door.

  Just as Dave leaned forward to knock on the door, it flew open and there stood Allison. She seemed bigger than ever, her huge bosom jiggling dangerously towards his face.

  ‘Wha’thefuckdoyouwant?’ she snarled.

  Dave took a quick step back so he was behind me.

  ‘Well?’ she snapped, turning her attention to me.

  Oh bugger, this is going to be difficult. She hasn’t recognised me.

  This wasn’t the first time I’d been in this situation. Last time, she had actually assaulted me before she realised who I was. I was just thinking maybe it was time I suggested she pay a visit to an optician, when she suddenly had a broom in her hand and was threatening me with it. I quickly forgot about opticians, but I was supposed to play a part in case anyone was watching or listening.

  ‘Err, good evening, madam,’ I began, hoping she would recognise me before she assaulted me. ‘We’re from the gas board.’

  ‘I can see who you are,’ she said. ‘I jus’ wanna know why you’re on my doorstep?’

  ‘Ah, yes, well,’ I began, then lowered my voice. ‘Allison, it’s me, Alfie.’

  But she didn’t seem to hear me. I thought perhaps she was going deaf as well.

  ‘If you don’t fuck off right this minute, I’m gonna-’

  I swear I could feel Dave Slater shaking behind me.

  ‘Allison, it’s me. Just let us in, please.’

  In desperation, I removed my hat. It was totally contrary to the plan, but I wasn’t going to just stand here and get beaten up by Allison, again.

  For a moment, her mouth dropped open in disbelief.

  ‘Ow long you been workin’ for the gas board?’ she asked in surprise.

  ‘I don’t,’ I said, replacing my hat. ‘It’s a ruse to get to speak to you. Can we come in?’

  ‘But we don’t have no gas,’ she said. ‘There ain’t no gas on this estate. Never has been.’

  ‘Oh shite!’ came Dave’s voice from behind me. ‘This is a right balls-up then.’

  ‘Don’t panic,’ I told him out of the corner of my mouth. ‘I’ve got an idea.’

  I turned my attention back to Allison. ‘Can we come in for a minute, please?’ I begged her.

  She looked over my shoulder at Slater. ‘I recognise him, don’t I?’ she said. ‘Isn’t he a copper?’

  ‘Yes,’ I pleaded. ‘But he’s with me. It’s Dave Slater. Don’t you remember him?’

  ‘They’re all the bloody same to me,’ she said. ‘Didn’t want to know when my Billy got kidnapped, did they?’

  ‘No,’ I agreed, hoping to soothe her. ‘You’re right. That’s why Detective Slater’s here now. He’s come to apologise.’

  ‘Oh no he bloody hasn’t,’ Slater muttered from over my shoulder.

  I turned to face him. We were almost nose to nose.

  ‘Oh yes he bloody has,’ I warned him quietly. ‘Unless he would rather go home without getting inside the house.’

  He let out a world-weary sigh. He didn’t like it, but he knew I was right.

  ‘Yes. Right,’ he said, through gritted teeth. ‘Of course that’s why I’m bloody well here. I’ve come to apologise.’

  He slowly and reluctantly spat the words out, but it seemed to be enough for Allison to let us in, so at least we weren’t going to be stuck on the front step like a pair of idiots. Now we were going to be inside the house like a pair of idiots.

  Allison stepped back and let us in, but only as far as the hall. She kept the brush in her hands and I didn’t doubt she would use it if she felt the need.

  ‘Right,’ she said. ‘I know you all think I’m stupid, but I’d be hard pushed to be as stupid as you two, coming up here dressed as gas board men when there’s no bleedin’ gas on the estate. I wasn’t born yesterday. You’re obviously up to something, so come on? What do you want?’

  ‘Well,’ I began. ‘It’s like this...’

  And so I explained the situation, and how we were hoping Allison could help us. She stood quietly listening to me until I had finished. Then she thought about it for a short while. And then she told us what she thought we should do with our plan.

  It was nothing personal, she assured us, but we really ought to remember how her husband Billy had been kidnapped by a police officer and how the rest of the police force had done Sweet Fanny Anne to help rescue him. And, quite frankly, she didn’t feel inclined to do Sweet Fanny Anne to help us.

  ‘So,’ she finished, ‘to put it bluntly, you can stick your request for help right up where the sun don’t shine.’

  She opened the door for us. ‘And now you can fuck off,’ she said.

  Dave Slater went to open his mouth but, before he could say a word, Allison cut him off.

  ‘Don’t make me throw you out,’ she warned him. ‘I’ve been polite so far, but only coz Alfie’s here. Right now, you’re starting to push your luck.’

  It didn’t seem possible for her to adopt a more aggressive stance, but somehow she managed it. The threat was pretty impressive. Only a fool would have been prepared to stand his ground. We might have proved we were a couple of idiots by coming here dressed as gas board workers, but we weren’t fools. I took hold of Dave’s arm.

  ‘Come on, Dave, let’s go.’

  Then, addressing Allison, I said, ‘Thanks for letting us in and listening, and I do understand how you feel. But is there anyone else along here who might be willing to help us out?’

  She gave me a sad little smile, ‘Seeing as how it’s you that’s asked. You could try number twelve. She’s about the only decent person along here. She might help you.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said.

  We trooped back to the van and climbed in.

  ‘Bloody brilliant.’ said Slater, bitterly. ‘Not only have we picked the wrong utility company to impersonate but the bloody woman won’t help us anyway!’

  ‘Well, I did warn you,’ I said. ‘But at least we’ve got an alternative to try now.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he agreed. ‘But what do we do now? We can’t go on pretending to be the gas board, can we?’

  ‘Then again,’ I mused, ‘if we’re being watched, we can’t just drive off, can we?’

  ‘What a bloody cock-up.’ Slater sighed, putting his head in his hands. ‘My temporary London boss is going to be so impressed. He already thinks we’re a bunch of idiots. Now we’ve proved it.’

  ‘I thought it was his idea?’

  ‘Well, yeah it was,’ he agreed. ‘But as the local force, we ought to know there’s no gas here, shouldn’t we?’

  ‘Ah! Right. I see what you mean.’

  I couldn’t think of anything else to say right then so I sat quietly while Dave thought about how popular he was going to be when he tried to explain his way out of this latest fiasco. Then I had an idea.

  ‘But if we were from the gas board,’ I began, ‘there is one reason we could have for being here.’

  He turned to look at me as though I’d gone completely mad.

  ‘What possible damned reason could we have for being here? There’s no bloody gas, you idiot!’

  I smiled, patiently.

  ‘But suppose the gas board was considering installing a gas supply to these houses.’

  ‘But they’re bloody not, are they?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘But if they were, wouldn’t it make sense to come and speak to the people in these houses to find out if they wanted gas?’

  A tiny spark seemed to light up Slater’s face.

  ‘What? You mean like a customer survey?�
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  ‘Well, it would be more of a survey to see if there would be any customers. I mean, they wouldn’t spend all that money putting gas pipes in unless they knew they had customers waiting, would they?’

  ‘So the story is we’re here to carry out a survey? But it’s starting to get dark. Who would start surveying people at this time of night?’

  ‘Well, of course, if you’ve got a better idea,’ I said, huffily. ‘Please feel free to tell me what it is.’

  ‘The idea’s alright,’ he agreed. ‘But it’s too late to start knocking on doors now. People will just tell us to sod off.’

  ‘So what do we do then?’

  ‘Right now, I think we should retreat. There’s a good chance Slick Tony hasn’t seen us. He’s got no reason to think we’re onto him. Then tomorrow morning, we can come back and carry out our survey like you suggested.’

  ‘You’re the boss, Dave. Whatever you say.’

  He fired up the van and we crawled slowly around the green. Even though most houses had a drive, the road was now packed tight with cars, and although there was a clear passage through, it was quite narrow. Number 38 was in darkness as we passed.

  In the gloom of the front bedroom at number 38, Slick Tony watched the van make its way slowly around the green and off the estate. He knew there was a connection between Alfie Bowman and Allison Beatty, but why would he dress up like a gas board worker to pay her a visit, especially when there was no gas on the estate? And wasn’t the guy with him a copper? Of course he was.

  This could only mean they knew he was here and they were trying to find somewhere they could set up to watch this house. He smiled to himself. A lesser man would have cut and run there and then. But Slick Tony was not a lesser man. He knew there was no need to run just yet. It was okay if they knew he was here, as long as he knew they knew he was here. He was one step ahead of the police, and all the time he was one step ahead, there was no need to panic.

  Chapter Nine

  ‘What do you mean she wouldn’t co-operate?’ asked DI Jimmy Jones. ‘You told me with Alfie Bowman on board you’d have no trouble getting in.’

  ‘Oh, we got in alright,’ said a tired, pissed-off Dave Slater. ‘She just won’t do anything to help the police. I told you she hates us, but it seems I underestimated just how much.’

  Jones was not amused. He was clearly used to things going his way without too much trouble.

  ‘Well that’s not bloody well good enough, Sergeant. I was led to believe Alfie Bowman would get us in. We’ve let a bloody amateur into our investigation for nothing. Where is he anyway?’

  ‘I sent him home. And it’s not his fault. He got us into the house and she did listen to him. It’s just that-’

  ‘Yes. I know. It’s just that we’re the police and she friggin’ hates us,’ finished Jones.

  He slumped unhappily in his chair. Slater stood on the other side of the desk waiting for the rest of his bollocking.

  ‘Well come on, Dave. We need some ideas. All the time you lot are farting around getting nowhere, our criminal mastermind is preparing to do a runner. At this rate, he’ll have skipped town before we even get set up. How do you think that’s going to make us look?’

  Slater looked sheepish. He hadn’t told Jones the worst bit yet. But first, maybe he could sweeten Jones up with the one bit of good news they did manage to gather.

  ‘Before she kicked us out, she did mention that number twelve would be willing to help.’

  This wasn’t quite what Allison had said. She had actually said that number 12 ‘might’ help them, but Slater thought this was no time for pessimism. He would find out if his optimism was justified later.

  ‘So why didn’t you go to number twelve and ask, Sergeant.’

  ‘Err, we did but there was no one home,’ lied Slater. ‘There’s something else, guv.’

  ‘Don’t tell me it gets worse,’ said an exasperated Jones. ‘What now?’

  ‘Well, we made a bit of a mistake. We were wearing gas board uniforms.’ He stopped, not quite sure of the best way to explain it.

  ‘So?’ asked Jones. ‘Why’s that a problem? We do that all the time up in London.’

  ‘Yeah. The thing is, you’ve probably got gas all over London.’

  Jones slumped forward and rested his head on the desk. Then he quietly banged it against the desk as he spoke.

  ‘You mean – you went up there – dressed as gasmen – and there’s no – bloody – gas?’

  ‘Don’t do that, guv, you’ll give yourself a headache,’ said Slater with a measure of genuine concern.

  ‘I’ve already got a fuckin’ headache!’ roared Jones, sitting up straight. ‘I’ve been sent to Noddy Land and asked to work with a bunch of country bumpkins who couldn’t find their own arses without a diagram. That’s my bloody headache, Sergeant, and it doesn’t look like there’s any sodding cure.’

  He slammed his fist down on the desk as he finished. Then, very slowly, he lowered his head back down until it was resting on the desk. Slater wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, so he settled for doing nothing. At least now Jones had stopped shouting at him. But when he’d been standing watching Jones for five minutes and nothing had happened, he started to become concerned.

  ‘Err, guv? You alright?’

  Suddenly, Jones sat upright.

  ‘Absolutely, Sergeant,’ he said. ‘It’s not your fault you’re not trained for this sort of job, and I need to take that into consideration, but, at the same time, I don’t want to treat you like a moron. That’s something I’m going to have to learn to deal with. Right now, I think we should have a short break, grab a cup of tea, and get something to eat. Be back in half an hour and then we’ll start again. Alright?’

  ‘Yes, sir. Right,’ said Slater looking up at the clock. Working with DI Jimmy Jones and his mood swings was like riding a rollercoaster. Unless he could come up with some bright idea fast, this was going to be a bloody long night. But maybe if he used a little initiative he could save them some time.

  Thirty-five minutes later, a beaming Dave Slater bounced into Jones’ office.

  ‘You’re late,’ said Jones, looking pointedly at his watch and tapping the face.

  ‘Sorry about that, sir.’ Slater beamed at him. ‘I just had to make a couple of phone calls. We’re on for number twelve!’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Number twelve. I just phoned. She’s a nice old dear, bit deaf, but once I started shouting she was alright. Told me she was out at the bingo earlier. I told her we wanted to watch the green and see who’s doing all the damage and dumping rubbish out there. She thinks it’s a disgrace and she’s only too pleased to help. Says she has a front bedroom that looks across the green and we’re welcome to use it. I said we’d be there first thing in the morning but we’d be coming in over her back fence so no one would see us arrive.’

  Slater was suitably impressed with his work, and to his delight, so Jones seemed to be too.

  ‘Well done, Dave. Have you got a team ready to move in?’

  ‘I’m taking DCs Biddeford and Weir, sir. Biddeford’s my partner and Weir’s the nearest thing we have to a surveillance officer. He does most of our surveillance work.’

  Jones sat back in his seat and a smile spread across his face.

  ‘I’m impressed, Dave. Well done. Excellent work. There’s just one more thing we need to do. Have we got someone here who can creep round to the back of that house and fit up a camera so we can watch the back? Looking at the map, it doesn’t seem likely our man will try to escape that way, but it won’t hurt to be able to see if there’s anything going on round there.’

  ‘We’ve got a techie guy we use for that sort of stuff. He thinks he’s a bit of a James Bond, but he’s okay. He can set up a remote camera that will feed a picture into our setup at number twelve. I’ll get it organised.’

  ‘D’you know, I thought we were in for a long night. I underestimated you, Dave and I apologise for that,’ said Jones,
beaming happily. ‘You get off now. I’ve just got some paperwork to catch up on and I’ll be away too. I like to be kept in the loop with surveillance so don’t be surprised if I call you, and don’t be frightened to call me. It doesn’t matter how trivial it might seem, I want to know. Even if you hear him fart, I want to know. Got that?’

  ‘Yes, guv. Got it. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  Chapter Ten

  While Dave Slater was having his ears bruised by Jimmy Jones, I was climbing into my car to drive home. I had just started the engine when my mobile phone began to ring.

  ‘Ah! Mr Bowman. I’m so glad I found you,’ said an unfamiliar voice. It was a sort of flat, toneless voice that told me absolutely nothing about its owner except it was obviously a man. Was there a trace of an accent? Possibly, but I couldn’t even hazard a guess at the origin.

  ‘Who is this? How did you get this number?’

  ‘You don’t know me, my friend. We’ve never met. But trust me, I’m calling to do you a favour.’

  It’s funny how some people can imply a threat with the mere tone of their voice. This guy appeared to be one of those people.

  ‘And what sort of favour do you think you have to offer me?’

  ‘I don’t think, my friend, I know. I’ve got some advice you would do very well to listen to, and then act upon.’

  He’d only been talking for a few seconds but already he was beginning to piss me off.

  ‘Let’s get a couple of things straight, shall we?’ I said. ‘You’ve just said we’ve never met, so you’re not my “friend”, okay? And when I need advice, I generally turn to people I trust. I don’t take it from complete strangers.’

  ‘But maybe your friends are unaware of your situation and so unable to advise you.’

  ‘What do you mean “my situation”? And why do I feel this is sounding more and more like a threat?’

  ‘Let me make it as clear as I can, so you understand exactly what I’m saying,’ he said, very deliberately. ‘Right now, I’m offering you some friendly advice. However, should you choose to ignore this advice, I may have to be a little more persuasive.’