by P. F. Ford
"Of course," sighed Slater. "How could I have forgotten?"
As Norman had requested, they drove in silence across town. Twice Slater went to speak, and each time Norman held a finger to his lips as a reminder.
"There. That wasn't so hard, was it," said Norman when they reached their destination. "As a reward for keeping quiet you can buy me a burger and a large coffee."
"How is that a reward?" asked Slater. "I'm always buying you lunch."
"And you should be proud of such charitable acts," advised Norman. "It's very humbling for me to be in the presence of someone with such a big heart. I'm hoping one day I can be like you."
"There are givers, and there are takers," sighed Slater, as he walked across to the burger van.
As he climbed back into the car five minutes later, Norman held out his hand.
"I want answers first," said Slater.
"Aw, come on," said Norman, in dismay. "It'll be cold by then. Anyway, I said I think better when I'm eating, not when you're holding my lunch to ransom."
"Bloody hell," said Slater in exasperation. "You really do have an answer for everything, don't you?"
"Listen and learn," smiled Norman. "Listen and learn."
For the next three minutes Slater sat brooding while Norman devoured his burger, and then, finally he delivered his opinion.
"I think I preferred her without the excess weight," he said.
"Oh, for f-" began Slater.
"Alright, I'm sorry," interrupted Norman. "Okay. I'll be serious. I'm actually confused. I'm not sure if I just met the dumbest woman ever, or the cleverest."
"I know what you mean," said Slater. "How can she have known what he was like and yet not know about Diana?"
"And I just cannot believe he was bringing Diana back to his house and they never left a trace of evidence for her to find," said Norman.
"They did have separate bedrooms," suggested Slater, optimistically.
"Yeah, but even so," said Norman. "I just can't see it. I mean, she comes across as quite intelligent, and she's obviously got old Brucie sussed out for what he really is. Yet she expects us to believe she can't see what he's doing right under her nose? Jeez, he's almost rubbing her nose in it taking Diana back there."
"And what about that Diana?" said Slater. "She helps Angela out with fundraisers, and humps her husband at the same time! She was even more of a piece of work than I thought."
"In my opinion we shouldn't trust Angela Rossiter," said Norman emphatically. "She was way too nice, and way too helpful for my liking. Look at all that stuff she volunteered about her old man and their relationship, and that was before we'd asked her a single question."
"So you reckon nobody's that stupid?" asked Slater.
"Correct," said Norman.
"What about Woody? It was going on under his nose for years, and he didn't see it," argued Slater.
"Yeah," agreed Norman. "But once he realised he didn't get fooled again, did he? Angela Rossiter is asking us to believe she's missing all the signs even when you knows what they look like. I don't buy it."
"There's a difference, though," insisted Slater. "Woody still loved Diana. Angela Rossiter gave up doing that, years ago. She's just waiting for our friend to fail big time so she can take him to the cleaners."
"But that's what's wrong here," said Norman. "If she's so keen to catch him out and clean up, surely she would be trying extra hard to see the signs, wouldn't she?"
"You have a point," agreed Slater. "But for now I'm keeping an open mind on that. However I am intrigued about the apparent discrepancy in the times Rossiter arrived home. He says five-forty-five, and she says after seven."
"Yeah," smiled Norman. "And he was so confident about his alibi. I can't wait to see his face when we tell him he had plenty of time to drive out to Bishops Common before he came home."
"It's a pity no-one saw his car," said Slater. "That would be the icing on the cake."
"Yeah," said Norman. "We've still not found out anything about this white van yet. If no-one had a delivery of any sort, and no-one was working down there with a white van, what the hell was it doing there? It has to be relevant to the murder."
Chapter Fifteen
Slater and Norman were back on the carpet in front of DCI Bob Murray's desk. He had demanded an update, and it was quite obvious he wasn't hearing what he wanted to hear.
"But why hasn't this Woods man been charged with his wife's murder?" demanded Murray.
"Because he didn't do it," replied Slater.
"You told me he had the motive, the means and the opportunity," growled Murray. "And you even have someone who saw a white van leaving the scene. Good God, man, what more do you need?"
"Err, we did inform you he had an alibi, boss," said Norman. "I came up and told you myself. I would have thought you would have remembered, you weren't exactly in the best of moods when I left."
"You told me it was a pack of lies," roared Murray. "Why haven't you proved it?"
Slater looked at Norman, in surprise. He hadn't mentioned anything about telling Murray he thought it was lies.
"That's not what I said," insisted Norman. "I said I thought it was very convenient, but I also said we have no reason to believe Mrs Brennan isn't telling us the truth."
"Well find a bloody reason," snapped Murray. "As far as I'm concerned you have an open and shut case. Woods went round to see his wife, they argued, he lost his rag, and he stabbed her. End of story. You find the murder weapon and you'll see I'm right. This alibi will prove to be false, you mark my words. Now stop wasting time, and money, making irrelevant enquiries into the dead woman's past, and get on with closing this case."
Slater could take criticism when he felt it was warranted, but this was getting ridiculous. It wasn't anyone's fault they hadn't solved this case yet, it was just how it goes sometimes. One thing was for sure, he had just about had enough of Murray and his foul temper.
"Oh, now I see where we've been going wrong," he said, with heavy irony. "We've been trying to find evidence to lead us to the killer, when what we should be doing is choosing a killer and then making the evidence fit. No wonder we waste so much money. Why didn't you tell us this before?"
Norman watched in fascination as Murray's face slowly turned purple. Holy shit, he thought, the Old Man's going to explode, and he's put Slater in the mood for a fight. This is not a good situation.
But Murray seemed to be so angry he couldn't speak. Norman saw the opportunity and seized it. It was time to evacuate the building.
"Err, right, Sir," he said. "Arrest and charge Ian Woods. We'll get onto it right away. Come on Dave. Let's go."
He grabbed Slater by the arm and ushered him out of the office before Murray could stop them. And keeping a tight grip of his colleague's arm he continued to frog march him down the stairs and out to their car.
"Just get in," he ordered Slater. "I'll drive."
"Where are we going?" asked Slater.
"Anywhere that's not here," said Norman. "Now get in. And, phones off. Let's just disappear for a while."
"I don't get it," said Slater once they were under way. "Why is he so keen to pin the blame on Ian Woods? And why is he being so bloody unreasonable? It's not our fault it's not as straightforward as he wants it to be, is it?"
He looked across at Norman, before adding, "And don't you stick up for him by telling me he's under pressure. Everyone on the bloody planet's under pressure. That is not an excuse."
"Actually I wasn't going to to defend him," said Norman. "I feel as aggrieved as you do, but provoking him the way you just did doesn't help. If we're going to solve this case I need you here working with me. Fall out with the Old Man and you could end up directing traffic."
"It's a matter of principle, Norm," argued Slater. "I told you before I want to be able to sleep at night. I won't be able to do that if we stitch up Ian Woods."
"Look, you're preaching to the converted here. I agree with you," said Norman. "But the way to deal
with Murray is to humour him. Agree with what he says and then carry on doing the right thing. We do what we always do and follow the evidence wherever it leads. I just hope it doesn't lead us all the way round in a big circle and right back to Ian Woods, because if it does, we'll both be directing traffic."
"You don't think it will, though, do you?" asked Slater.
"Nah," said Norman. "My money's on Rossiter."
"So what are we going to do now?" asked Slater.
"We're going to stay out of the way for a few hours," said Norman. "We can start by going to see our new friend Bruce Rossiter. It's time he explained why there's a gap of over an hour between when he says he got home and when his wife says he got home."
"What?" asked Slater. "D'you mean to say you're not expecting me to buy lunch again?"
"I don't remember saying anything of the sort," said Norman. "You buying lunch is a given. That's where we're going first."
"But we had an early lunch just a couple of hours ago," protested Slater.
"Ah yes," agreed Norman. "But it just so happens all that excitement in Murray's office has made me extra hungry. What we had before was just the starter. Now it's time for the main course."
"You're fast becoming a one-man obesity epidemic," complained Slater. "Don't you ever worry about your health?"
"What good did worrying ever do anybody?" asked Norman. "Don't you know it's bad for your blood pressure?"
"So's all this fast food crap you eat," said Slater. "And I don't think I care to sponsor your personal obesity plan anymore. If you want to eat yourself to death, that's up to you, but don't expect me to help you. You're no good to anyone dead."
"Wow. Where did that come from?" asked Norman, somewhat taken aback by Slater's outburst.
"You need to understand it's not all about you," said Slater. "Don't you ever think about your friends and how they worry about you?"
Norman had no answer to that. When he thought about it, Slater was right. He never thought about how his friends might worry over his health. In fact he tended to think he didn't have any friends, but actually, now he had been confronted by it, he realised he'd be a bit lost of it wasn't for Slater, and Jane Jolly, and one or two others he worked with.
"Okay," he said, finally. "But can we stop for coffee on the way? Coffee's okay, isn't it?"
The car park at Rochester & Dorset (Marketing) Ltd was half empty. Slater had a sinking feeling that this might prove to be a wasted trip.
"Park down this end of the car park, Norm," suggested Slater. "We can have a nose around on the walk up to reception."
"Crap," said Norman, looking around the car park. "It looks like half the workforce is away today. I hope this doesn't mean Rossiter's not here."
But his hope was in vain. As soon as she saw them enter the reception area Millie Gibson shook her head.
"I'm sorry," she said. "If you're looking for God's gift I'm afraid he's out for the day. You should have called first."
"Yeah," said Norman. "I know, but this wasn't really planned. It was a sort of last minute decision to call in on the off chance."
"There is something you might be able to help us with, though," said Slater. "Do you keep a record of people's movements."
"You mean a diary of who's in and out, and where they are," she asked.
"Yeah, that's exactly what I mean," he replied.
"I have to," she said. "There's so much coming and going here I'd be putting calls through to people who aren't here, and that wouldn't be very professional, would it?"
"Could we have a look at it?" asked Norman.
"I'd be walked out of the door if anyone came in and saw you doing that," she said. "But I could copy it and email it to you. Just don't let on where it came from."
Her smile suddenly changed to a frown.
"Oh, look out," she warned them. "Here comes Frosty."
Slater looked over his shoulder in time to see Celia Rowntree pushing her way through a door into the reception area.
"There's an email address on that card I gave you," he told Millie, quietly.
"Alright," she said, out of the corner of her mouth. "I'll do it later."
"Gentleman," called Celia Rowntree, as she approached. "I'm sorry, but you're not welcome here. I must insist if you want to speak to anyone here again, you make an appointment, through me. Now, if you wouldn't mind leaving."
"That's okay," said Slater. "We're just leaving anyway. Miss Gibson has just told us Rossiter's not here and it's him we wanted to speak to."
"And we wouldn't want to stay where we're not welcome," added Norman.
"I'm glad you understand," smiled Celia Rowntree. "Now, if you wouldn't mind leaving."
"He told us about his affair with Diana Woods," said Norman. "But then I'm sure you already knew all about that."
She stared impassively at him.
"So how does that sit with your company's family values and terms of employment?" he continued. "It seems to me it's against company policy, and as the HR Director-"
"When I want your advice about company policy, and how to do my job," she interrupted. "I'll call you. Now, I've asked you to leave, but you still seem to be here."
"We're going, but I'm pretty sure we'll be back, welcome or not," Norman warned her. "And next time we'll have a search warrant and perhaps a forensic accountant or two. You might want to discuss that with your company directors. I'm sure there's a whole host of things you'd rather we didn't find."
He had definitely ruffled her feathers with his warning, but she stood firm and didn't back down.
Slater and Norman made their way back outside. The shortest way back to the car park was to the right, but a path led off to the left as well.
"Are you feeling nosey?" suggested Norman.
"Oh dear," said Slater, heading off to the left. "We seem to have taken the wrong turning back to the car park. Never mind, this will probably take us all the way around the building to the car park, anyway."
"Do you think she's watching us on CCTV?" asked Norman.
"I'm sure she'll be watching us every step of the way," said Slater. "But she asked us to leave, and we're leaving. What's she got to complain about?"
"Yeah," agreed Norman. "I didn't see any sign that said we couldn't come this way, did you?"
They followed the path around to the back of the building where they found an access road with a turning circle outside a pair of double doors which allowed access for deliveries. Opposite the doorway, on the other side of the turning circle, was a small block of four garages with roller shutters. Three of the shutters were closed and padlocked, but the end shutter was raised. As they approached from the side they could see further and further inside, and more and more of what was parked inside.
"Well, well," said Norman as the inside of the garage was revealed. "Would you take a look at that!"
"I'll do better than look," said Slater fishing his mobile phone from his pocket and switching it on.
He focused the camera and took three photographs.
"This is one for the album," he said.
Inside the building, watching the two detectives on CCTV, Celia Rowntree wondered what on earth they could want with a photograph of the company runabout. Did they really think they were going to find it wasn't taxed or insured? How pathetic!
"Hi Jane," said Slater into his phone.
"Where the bloody hell are you?" she said. "I've had Murray down here raising merry hell. How do you think it makes me look when he asks me where you are and I don't have a clue?"
"Ah. Umm, Yes. I'm sorry about that, Jane," he began.
"You're sorry?" she snapped. "You damned well will be when you get back here."
"Aw, come on Jane," he pleaded. "You know you love us really."
"You're going to have to do a lot more grovelling than that," she warned him. "I can put up with a lot from you two, but this time you've really pushed your luck."
He put his hand over the phone and turned to Norman.
/> "Jane's pissed off," he said. "She's had Murray on her case, looking for us."
"Oh shit," said Norman. "I was so keen to keep you out of trouble I never even thought about him taking it out on her."
"Yeah, me neither," said Slater. "But he has, and she's not very happy about it."
He returned to his phone call.
"Hello, Jane? Are you still there?" said Slater. "Look we're both really sorry. Norm says he's going to buy you dinner to make up for it. What's that? Yeah, I'll make sure his wallet's unlocked."
He turned back to Norman.
"She says she's gonna put your wallet into shock," he said.
"Yeah, right," said Norman with a grin. "Tell her I'm looking forward to that."
"He says you can spend as much as you like," Slater said down the phone. "And you can bring the family. He'll pay for all five of you."
"I said no such thing," spluttered Norman. "Here, gimme that phone."
"Just drive," Slater directed him. "It's against the law to use a mobile phone whilst driving."
"Anyway, Jane," he said returning to the phone call once again. "I need you to do something for me. I'm going to email you a photograph of a vehicle. I need you to check it out for me. Can you do that?"
"Is she really pissed off?" asked Norman when Slater had ended his call.
"Seriously," said Slater. "Apparently he was doing a war dance, and there was no-one else to take it out on so he gave her chapter and verse, at full volume."
"That's not on," said Norman. "His argument is with us. He had no right to take it out on her like that. Now I'm pissed off, with him."
"He has no right to treat anyone the way he does," said Slater. "I used to have a lot of respect for him, and he has helped me out of the shite a couple of times, but he's just about eroded all that away now. But how do we stop him?"
"I don't know," said Norman. "Maybe they'll grant his wish and make him redundant. That seems our best bet."
"When I first heard about that, I thought it was all wrong," admitted Slater. "I thought he'd been such a good servant it wasn't right to be pushing him out of the door, but now I can't wait to see the back of him. I wish we could hurry it along in some way."