by Ford, P. F.
‘But they’re potatoes. Vegetables, right? One of my five a day.’
‘Right.’ Slater chuckled, shaking his head. ‘I think I see the flaw in your so-called healthy eating regime.’
Norman looked crestfallen, but nevertheless, he managed to plough his way through the plateful of salads. Eventually he sat back, pushed his empty plate away and burped happily. He congratulated Slater on his choice of venue.
‘I’ll definitely come here again,’ he said. ‘And that’s a cracking cup of tea.’
He smacked his lips happily.
‘So what do you want to do next then, Boss?’ he asked.
‘If we’re going to work as partners,’ replied Slater, ‘I need to know how you think. So, what I want to do next is hear what you think we should do next.’
Norman looked surprised at this. Slater wondered if he had been expecting just to be used as a runner.
‘Look, I know it’s my inquiry,’ continued Slater, ‘and if the shit should hit the fan for any reason, I’m happy to take the blame, but I don’t see you as a junior partner in this team. You’ve got a lot more experience than I have, and you know London far better than I ever will. The way I like to work is to share ideas and agree on the best way forward.’
‘That’s going to take a bit of getting used to,’ said Norman, cautiously. ‘For the last three years I’ve been treated like I just don’t matter. I’d forgotten what it’s like to have my opinion respected.’
‘I’m not saying I’m necessarily going to agree with you,’ explained Slater. ‘But I would like your input. Two heads are better than one, right? Especially when one of those heads is filled with experience and knowledge.’
Slater knew that a little respect can go a long way when someone’s been through the wringer, and Norman’s demeanour appeared to change right before his eyes. It was nothing dramatic, just a tad less defeat and a little more pride, but it was a good start.
‘Coo. You’re actually serious, aren’t you?’ said Norman with a smile. ‘Right then, here’s what I think we should do next…’
As Norman and Slater huddled over the table discussing the way forward for their inquiry, the waitress came to clear their table. She wasn’t the same waitress who had taken their orders. This one was much more petite, and very attractive. Her long dark hair had been piled up on her head and two chopsticks appeared to have speared it into place, leaving just a wisp of hair, here and there, spilling loose.
‘You enjoy meal, yes?’ she asked in heavily accented English, as she began gathering their plates.
Slater knew that voice. He looked around.
‘Oh. Jelena. Hi,’ he said.
‘I thought was you,’ she smiled, her beautiful dark eyes threatening to swallow him up. ‘Have not seen for long time. You are okay?’ Then she noticed his wrist. ‘Oh my goodness, what happen to your arm?’
‘Oh, it’s nothing bad. Just a little accident at work,’ he replied, embarrassed. ‘Apart from that I’ve been working hard but I’m fine. How about you?’
‘Keep very busy here,’ she replied, ‘But that is good thing, yes? Better busy than no work, huh? And who is this?’ She smiled at Norman.
‘This is DS Norman. We call him Norm. He’s going to be working with me for a while.’
‘Ah. Please to meet you DS Norman.’ She smiled again. ‘I think I prefer Norm. Is nice name, yes?’
She had finished gathering up the plates now and she turned back to Slater, balancing the plates on her arm.
‘Did you lose phone number? I thought perhaps you call.’ She looked disappointed and Slater felt guilty. Why hadn’t he called her?
‘It all got a bit complicated at work after that night,’ he explained. ‘I got into a bit of trouble.’
‘Because of Aunt Sophia?’ she asked.
‘Oh no, I was in trouble before that.’
‘Because of Alfie and me?’
‘No. It wasn’t your fault, honestly. It’s a long story.’
‘You could buy me drink and tell me story,’ she suggested.
‘Yeah?’ said Slater with surprise. ‘I like that idea. I’ll call you and make a date.’
‘I like idea too.’ Jelena beamed. ‘Is good, yes?’
She turned and walked away, both men’s eyes watching her go.
‘Now there’s a nice young lady,’ said Norman, ‘and aren’t you the lucky guy, getting asked out by her.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Slater. ‘She’s a very lovely young lady, and yes I am a very lucky guy.’
He was also thinking what an idiot he was to have put off getting in touch with her when she was waiting for him to call all the time.
Chapter Fourteen
‘This is absolute rubbish!’ Beverley Green fumed. ‘How dare you come here dragging my sister’s reputation through the dirt. She was a good God-fearing girl. She didn’t even know what sex was. How could she possibly be working as a high-class hooker? She worked for a magazine. I thought I told you all this. Are you suggesting I’m some sort of liar? Or perhaps you think you know my sister better than I do?
‘I was told you were an excellent police officer, one of the best, and yet here you are telling me some sort of fairy story. No. I’m sorry. I just don’t believe it.’
She seemed to have run out of steam at that point, but Slater waited politely. Norman, however, had obviously heard enough.
‘Have you finished, now?’ he asked.
Beverley looked horrified that an underling like Norman should have the audacity to speak to her in that tone, but rather than put him down, the way she looked at him seemed to fire him up even more.
‘You see,’ he continued. ‘The problem with people like you is you think you’re always right. So, when we come along and tell you something you don’t want to hear, you don’t like it. And when that happens, you seem to think you have the right to berate us, insult us, and generally put us down.
‘You asked DS Slater here to do a job. I happen to know he’s gone to a lot of trouble to get to the truth. He’s even endangered his life in the process. What he’s come up with are facts. Now, I’m sorry if you don’t like those facts, but that’s life, isn’t it? Understand this: it’s not our fault your sister’s a hooker, and it’s not our fault you didn’t know.
‘We just find facts out. That’s what we do. We don’t get to pick and choose all the nice ones you want to hear and discard the rest. We have to work with all of them, even if we don’t like them. As long as they’re genuine facts, that’s good enough. Now like I said, you may not like them, but that’s tough. Whether you like them or not doesn’t change them, and it doesn’t give you the right to abuse us for finding them out.’
Norman seemed both surprised by his own outburst, and pleased with himself, at the same time. Slater enviously wished he’d said it, but also wondered how much trouble they might get into as a result.
Meanwhile, Beverley Green seemed totally lost for words. Slater thought that having someone finally stand up to her and put her in her place had come as a severe shock.
‘Have I made myself, clear?’ asked Norman.
‘Crystal,’ snapped Beverley. ‘But if you think I’m going to apologise-’
‘Of course not,’ interrupted Norman. ‘I’m sure you wouldn’t know where to start.’
‘I think you should leave,’ she hissed.
‘I think I want to,’ retorted Norman.
‘Err, right, yes,’ said Slater. ‘Err, we’ll see ourselves out, shall we?’
‘That was some speech.’ Slater congratulated Norman as they drove away.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Norman, sheepishly. ‘I don’t know where that came from. I think she must have hit one of my buttons when she went off on one.’
‘Don’t apologise,’ Slater said, smiling. ‘It was spot on. Exactly right. And she knows it.’
‘D’you think she’ll make a complaint? Only I don’t want to drop you in it,’ said Norman.
‘I bet it’s a long ti
me since anyone spoke to her like that,’ mused Slater. ‘I’m actually envious. I wish I’d said it. But no, I don’t think she will complain. She’d have to explain why you said what you did, and she wouldn’t want everyone to know how small-minded she really is, now would she?’
They spent the next couple of hours trying to figure out the best strategy to take their inquiry forward. They decided their first problem was to try to find out who had tried to push Slater under the bus. Going on what they knew so far, they figured the finger of suspicion pointed towards either DS Donovan or the mysterious Mr Chan.
They knew for sure Donovan couldn’t have pushed Slater himself, but equally they knew he had colleagues. It seemed likely that if there really was a cover-up, it would involve more than one man and could include many, so there could be plenty of willing accomplices. Quite how they were going to proceed with that they had no idea at this stage, so they decided to first focus on Mr Chan.
They decided Slater would make the journey up to town, and Norman would start digging and see what he could learn using the resources available at Tinton. This made perfect sense. No one at Tinton knew or cared what Norman was doing, so in the increasingly unlikely event there was a mole at large, it was unlikely he, or she, would identify Norman as a threat.
And so, next morning at 10.30, Slater found himself exiting Clapham Common tube station and following the now familiar route to Mistral Court and an appointment with Mr Chan.
An hour later, he was making his way back out of Mistral Court. His early optimism had been replaced by pure frustration. Whatever Mr Chan might be, he was certainly no fool. Slater’s frustration was quite simply a result of Mr Chan’s ability to remain polite and pleasant for the entire interview and yet tell him nothing. He had successfully answered every one of Slater’s questions without giving him one single piece of information that was going to be any help.
Slater considered he was pretty good at what he did, but right now he felt as if he’d just sat through some sort of master class delivered by a disinformation guru. He even felt a grudging sense of admiration for Chan’s performance.
Right from the start, he had been adamant his assistant, Mr Ling, had never left his side that afternoon, and after toying with Slater for a further half hour, he had finally shot him to pieces by pointing out that there are over 100,000 Chinese people in London, so it was hardly surprising Slater had seen them wherever he went.
‘So, Detective Sergeant Slater,’ he had said, with a knowing smile. ‘Unless you are suggesting they all work for me, I really can’t understand why you are here.’
Slater had no answer to that, and he had the uncomfortable feeling Mr Chan had plenty more ammunition to fire in his direction if he so desired. Eventually he had decided a strategic withdrawal was the best option. He couldn’t have claimed to be getting out while he was still ahead, because in his heart he knew he’d never even been in the race – hence his frustration.
It had been a wasted journey and he wondered if maybe he should have brought Norman along – his London experience might just have made all the difference. But, if he was being honest, he rather doubted it would have made any difference. Chan was as wily as they came, no doubt about that. If they were going to get anywhere with him, they would need something on him; something that would give them plenty of leverage. Of course, Chan could be completely innocent, but Slater figured that was extremely unlikely.
He had switched his mobile phone off while he was talking to Chan, but now he was back in the real world, he fished it from his pocket and switched it on. It was time to call Norman. Slater hoped he was having a more productive morning back in Tinton. But before he could make the call, his phone beeped to indicate he had voicemail.
‘Hi. It’s Amber. I need to speak to you. Please call me when you get this message.’
He found her number and pressed call.
‘Hello?’ she said.
‘Hi Amber. It’s DS Slater. You asked me to call.
‘Oh, hi. You said I should call if I thought of anything.’
‘And have you?’
‘Errm. Well. I wondered if we could meet up,’ she said, falteringly.
Their last meeting flashed through his mind, and he remembered thinking she had a crush on him. He wondered if this was going to be a waste of time. Suppose she actually thought he would want to see her?
‘It’s just that I found something.’ Her voice interrupted his thoughts. ‘I’d forgotten all about it and then I found it at home last night.’
‘What have you got, Amber? I hope you’re not wasting my time.’ Slater regretted it the moment the words had formed in his head, but he was too late to stop it now.
‘Why would I be wasting your time?’ she asked indignantly. ‘I thought you wanted my help.’
‘I’m sorry, Amber,’ he mumbled, wishing he could crawl under the nearest stone. ‘It’s just that I’ve had a bad morning. I’ve come all the way up here to see someone and they have been wasting my time. But that’s not your fault and I shouldn’t take it out on you. I’m sorry.’
Amber sighed.
‘I’ve had a pretty crappy morning myself so far,’ she said. ‘I was hoping you might be pleased to hear from me, seeing as how I’ve got something that might help you.’
‘Now I feel terrible,’ he replied. ‘Look, how about I come and meet you for lunch and you can tell me what you found.’
‘Really?’ she said. ‘You want to take me for lunch? Wow! No one ever takes me for lunch.’ She sounded genuinely surprised and pleased.
‘Amber, this is business,’ he warned.
‘I know. You wouldn’t want to be seen dead with me otherwise.’
‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘That’s not what I meant, and you know it.’
‘Sorry. Sorry,’ she said quickly, obviously fearful Slater’s lunch invitation was going to be withdrawn.
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘That’s okay. Now, what time do you have lunch?’
‘One,’ she said.
‘Right. I’ll meet you outside The Magazine at one,’ he said, and she agreed.
‘I have to go now,’ he lied, ‘I have another call waiting.’
‘See you later, then,’ she said, sweetly.
As he cut the call, he congratulated himself on making a complete pig’s ear of that situation, but the truth was he had no idea how to handle Amber. He was used to flirting and chatting up women his own age, but Amber was young enough to be his daughter. On the other hand, they needed all the help they could get, so if she really did know something, he couldn’t afford to miss this opportunity.
As he called up Norman’s number, he tried to gather his thoughts. Pull yourself together. You’re a professional. She’s just a kid. You can handle this.
‘Ha!’ Norman laughed when Slater had finished moaning about his morning so far. ‘So Mr Chan was every bit as inscrutable as we thought he might be.’
‘Hmm,’ mumbled Slater, gloomily. ‘Every bit, and then some. A whole lot more in fact. I probably would have learnt more if I’d stayed home in bed.’
‘Then it’s just as well I’ve not been wasting my time down here,’ said Norman, brightly.
‘You’ve found something?’ asked Slater, perking up at the sound of Norman’s optimism.
‘It could be,’ agreed Norman. ‘I’ve got a lot more to do yet, and it could prove to be completely innocent, but it appears our Mr Chan is a bit of a benefactor.’
‘What’s that got to do with-’
‘Especially when it comes to our wonderful boys in blue,’ interrupted Norman.
‘Aha,’ said Slater. ‘Tell me more.’
‘Mr Chan owns a chain of restaurants, and to show his appreciation for the work our wonderful boys do, he offers very generous discounts to anyone showing a warrant card.’
‘Well, I suppose it’s a start,’ said Slater, his enthusiasm fading. This was no big deal. It happened in lots of places.
‘SCU officers get the biggest dis
count,’ said Norman. ‘They don’t pay at all.’
‘I don’t want to piss on your bonfire,’ said Slater, grimly. ‘But that’s not exactly the sort of serious corruption we’re looking for, is it?’
‘Well, if you don’t want hear the rest of it, that’s fine,’ said Norman, the disappointment clear in his voice. ‘I’ll keep it to myself and you can read it in my report.’
‘Don’t be an arse,’ said Slater. ‘But it’s not a big deal, is it? We’ll need a lot more than that if we’re going to go after anyone.’
‘He also owns several clubs. Oriental themed places with beautiful Oriental girls doing all the pampering. Massage, sir? Anything else I can get you, sir? Should I take my clothes off, sir? You know the sort of thing.’
‘Now you might be getting warmer,’ Slater said, encouragingly. ‘Keep digging around there.’
‘I already have been.’ Norman sounded as though he was enjoying himself now. ‘I have a feeling the membership list could prove to be quite interesting.’
‘Yeah,’ Slater said, gloomily, ‘But we’re not going to be able to get hold of that without alerting everyone to what we’re doing. With all the data protection bollocks they hide behind now, we’d need a search warrant.’
‘Well, you could do it that way,’ agreed Norman, slyly. ‘Or you could do it another way.’
‘This sounds dodgy.’
‘Best if you know nothing about it then, eh?’ said Norman.
‘No, that’s okay,’ said Slater. ‘You can tell me.’
‘Ever heard of “need to know”?’
‘Of course I have.’
‘Well, right now, you have no “need to know”, so I’m not going to tell you,’ said Norman decisively.
‘No!’ cried Slater. ‘You tell me now.’
‘Sorry, I can’t hear you. It’s such a bad line, you’re breaking up,’ Norman said. ‘You’d better get off to your hot lunchtime totty while I carry on slaving away here. I’ll try not to get too jealous.’