by Ford, P. F.
“Err, no, not really,” Slater said reluctantly into the phone. “And Bastion’s insisting we have to let him go.”
“Frankly, Bastion’s right to do so if you’ve no hard evidence.” Murray sighed. “You even said yourself that you think the Fellows woman’s lying about him being involved.”
Slater could hear Murray breathing as he considered the situation.
“No. I’m sorry, David, he might be guilty of some suspicious behaviour but that’s not enough on its own. You can’t hold him on suspicion alone. You’re going to have to let him go, and if Bastion’s creating, you’d better make it soon.”
“Okay, Boss.” Slater pulled a face. “I’ll do it now.”
“While I’m on the phone,” said Murray. “What’s happening with this smuggling thing? Is Norman there?”
“He knows more about that case than me,” said Slater. “I’ll hand you over to him.”
He quietly placed his hand over the handset.
“Bugger!” he said. Then he passed the phone over to Norman.
“We’ve got to let Bressler go, right?” asked Norman when he’d finished talking to Murray. “But you knew that anyway. You can’t charge a guy with murder just because you don’t like him.”
“It’s not just that, Norm, and you know it,” said Slater, angrily. “We still haven’t found Terry Evans. It’s as if she suddenly vanished into thin air once her deal with Bressler ended. What if he’s bumped her off too? That really would be reliving his life with Sandra wouldn’t it?”
“But no one has ever reported her missing,” said Norman.
“That’s because there seems to be no family or friends to report her missing,” explained Slater.
“But we have no proof she’s been murdered. Even if she has, why couldn’t it be Lindy who killed her? That’s who I’d be focusing on. Why does Bressler have to be involved?”
“His attitude doesn’t work for me,” continued Slater, ignoring Norman’s question. “When we first told him about Lindy and her niece taking the taxi ride he couldn’t believe Lindy could do such a thing to him. Now, just a few hours later, he seems quite happy to accept she’s guilty as charged.”
“Let’s be honest here,” said Norman calmly. “You just don’t like the guy because he thinks different to you and he knows how to get under your skin. I might even be so bold as to suggest there’s a certain amount of jealousy over Cindy.”
“That’s bollocks. I’m not jealous,” said Slater, indignantly. “I just don’t like the way he talks about her like she’s a used car, or something.”
“That’s where he thinks different to you,” explained Norman. “I’m not saying he’s right, but whether you like it or not, to him she is just like a used car, and he’s just about to trade her in for a newer model.”
“We’ve still not been able to find Terry Evans, Mr Bressler,” said Slater, as he led him to the duty sergeant to collect his things.
“Perhaps you’re looking in the wrong place,” said Bressler.
Slater hated that smug, clever dick smile that was all over his face once again.
“If you know where she is, what harm would it do to tell us?” asked Slater.
“If I knew where she was, I would tell you,” said Bressler. “I’ve not seen or heard from her since our contract ended. Has it occurred to you that perhaps she doesn’t want to be found? Has anyone reported her missing?”
“There is no one to report her missing, is there?” said Slater. “You must know she has no family.”
“Yes. Of course I know that,” said Bressler, signing for his possessions. “Anyway, I’d love to continue this fascinating conversation with you, but I really would like to get home.”
He offered Slater his hand to shake.
“No hard feelings, eh?” Bressler smiled at him.
But Slater just glared back. There was no way he was shaking Bressler’s hand.
“Not going to shake my hand?” asked Bressler. “I do hate a sore loser. Never mind. Perhaps you’ll have better luck next time.”
He turned to go, but then paused and turned back to Slater.
“Did you know Cindy also has no family? So if she disappeared, no one would have reported her missing, either.”
With that, he turned and was gone. Slater really wanted to chase after him, and punch that smug face, but a cold fear was suddenly spreading through his guts. What did Bressler mean “if Cindy disappeared”? He realised he hadn’t spoken to her or seen her for days. Where was his mobile phone? He turned and sprinted for the stairs.
Back in the incident room, Norman was listening to Biddeford telling him what Rodgers had said. Apparently, the gang was Eastern European. Rodgers thought they could be Albanian, as Norman had suspected, but they could also be Serbians. All Rodgers could tell them was that the big boss was called Tony something, and the local boss was his daughter.
“It all seems to tie in with what Billy Bumble told us,” explained Biddeford. “Even down to the woman being there last time. And that’s where it gets really interesting.
“Apparently everyone wears black, and they all wear masks, and no-one ever speaks. It’s all done by gesture. But one night the boss’s daughter got a bit careless and let her mask slip just for a second or two. She didn’t realise it but Rodgers saw her face.
“Then one day he was in Tinton and he saw her again. He says she runs the tea shop, Sophia’s.”
Norman couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing and at first he said nothing.
“Isn’t that the place you and Dave Slater go?” asked Biddeford. “Isn’t she the girl that’s always asking him to take her out?”
“Holy crap,” said Norman. “Jelena?”
“That’s her,” agreed Biddeford.
“Billy Bumble said it sounded like Jelena, too,” said Norman.
Slater came rushing through the door just as Norman called out Jelena’s name. He was in a panic, and the name only just registered with him.
“What about Jelena?” he asked, as he rushed to his desk.
“I think you need to sit down before we tell you,” suggested Norman.
“Just let me make this call,” said Slater, snatching up his mobile phone and searching for Cindy’s number. “It’s really important!” He pressed the button and heard it ringing.
“Come on, come on,” he said, impatiently. He turned away from the other two and walked to the end of the room so they couldn’t hear him.
“Hello,” Cindy’s voice said. “Fancy you calling now. I was just thinking about you.”
A tidal wave of relief seemed to sweep right through him.
“I can’t tell you how pleased I am to hear your voice,” he said.
“Gosh, Detective Sergeant Slater,” she said, laughing. “How very forward of you, and we’ve only just met.”
“Where are you?” he asked her.
“At my house,” she said. “I’ve been decorating the bedrooms, but I’ve finished now and I’m hungry. I was just wondering if someone would like to come and join me for dinner.”
“That sounds like a great idea,” he said, really meaning it. “But I’m not sure if I can get away yet.”
“I can wait,” she sighed. “As long as I don’t have to wait too long.”
There was a noise in the background. He thought it sounded like a doorbell.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“The doorbell,” she said. “I wonder who it can be. Let me have a look out of this bedroom window. Oh. It’s Rudy. What’s he doing here?”
“Don’t let him in,” said Slater sternly.
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “That would be so rude. All the lights are on and my car’s outside, so he knows I’m here. Of course I’m going to let him in. I’ll call you back in a little while.”
“No. Listen to me, Cindy,” said Slater into the phone, but it was too late. She’d hung up.
Norman was watching him and could see he’d finished his call.
/> “I think you need to hear this,” he said to Slater.
“Not right now, Norm. I have to go. I think Cindy’s in trouble.”
He grabbed his car keys and sprinted for the door.
Norman watched, perplexed, as Slater rushed out of the room.
“What’s all that about?” asked Biddeford.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” said Norman.
He was wondering what the hell was going on. Why was Slater rushing off to see Cindy? Why would she be in trouble? He thought perhaps Biddeford wasn’t the only one around here who thought with his dick. He hoped it wasn’t catching.
“Between you, me and the gatepost,” confided Norman. “I think DS Slater has a problem with Bressler. He wants him for murder and he’s just a tad disappointed he’s been released. And then there’s the small matter of a young lady called Cindy, who he seems to be rather smitten with.”
“Ah, I see.” Biddeford smiled as he realised what Norman was telling him. “So, you’re saying he’s thinking with his dick.”
“I didn’t say that,” Norman said, grinning back.
“No, of course not,” agreed Biddeford. “But he wants to be careful. That sort of thinking can get you into all sorts of trouble.”
“You think?” asked Norman.
“Trust me. I know,” said Biddeford, sadly.
“Anyway, whatever that was about doesn’t matter,” said Norman, finally. “Murray’s arranging a search warrant. He wants us to take some uniforms and pick up Jelena, now.”
Norman felt excited as they drove from the police station. This was sure to be dramatic, he thought.
“Apparently there’s some sort of commotion going on in town,” said Biddeford beside him. “Must be a fire, or something.”
“Let’s hope it’s not in the centre where we want to go,” said Norman.
It was only a short drive to get to their destination in town, but it became immediately obvious that whatever the problem was it was going to impede their progress.
“Crap,” said Norman. “It’ll be just as bad if we go around the other way. Let’s try some lights and sounds, maybe that might help. I’ll see if I can find out what’s going on.”
Biddeford switched on the siren and blue lights. Norman didn’t think it was going to help much because the traffic in front of them was trapped with nowhere to go, but it couldn’t do any harm, could it?
“Heap of rubbish,” said Norman a few seconds later. “The damned radio doesn’t work in this car. Why hasn’t it been reported and fixed?”
In exasperation, he fumbled his mobile phone from his pocket and chose a number.
“Yo, it’s Norman,” he said.
“I’m on the phone because the radio doesn’t work in this damned car,” he said, after a pause. “I want to know why we’re stuck in a traffic jam on the way into town.”
He paused again for an answer.
“A fire. Yeah.” Norman sighed heavily. “We guessed that much. Where is it?”
Another pause.
“You’re kidding me,” said Norman. “All of it?”
He cut the call in disgust.
“Where is the fire?” asked Biddeford.
“Sophia’s tea shop,” said Norman.
“But that’s where we’re going, isn’t it?” asked Biddeford.
“Yeah.” Norman shook his head. “Apparently the whole lots gone up, even the flats above. I think someone must have known we were coming.”
“That’s a bit drastic, isn’t it?” said Biddeford.
“That’s the thing with these gangsters,” said Norman. “They’re not afraid to take drastic action if they think it’s necessary. But at least, because of that, we can be pretty sure we know who murdered Sarah Townley.”
“I guess that means our bird’s flown then,” Biddeford said.
“Vanished into thin air, no doubt,” agreed Norman. “We’ll do all the ‘wanted for murder’ stuff all over Europe, and we’ll get zilch in return.”
“So near to a good result,” said Biddeford. “But we end up with sod all. Shite!”
“Shite is right,” agreed Norman.
Chapter 40
Slater was driving as fast as he could. He was in his own car, so he had no blue lights or siren to help him, but fortunately, there was little traffic about at this time of night. But would he get there in time?
He cursed as he heard the sound of sirens and the almost blinding blue flashes of emergency vehicle lights heading his way, and he was forced to waste time pulling over as two fire engines roared down the road towards town. Then he was accelerating away again.
Bressler had said “better luck next time”, and he had also pointed out there was no one to report Cindy missing if she disappeared. He knew Bressler was up to no good but would anyone else listen? What if he couldn’t get to Cindy in time? Was Bressler planning to take her up to the Haunted Copse so he could murder her too?
At last, he reached the small estate where Cindy lived. Now he slowed down and drove cautiously. Hers was the end house on the left. He could see her car parked outside, but there was no sign of Bressler’s car. Was he too late? Had Bressler already carried her off?
He killed his lights, switched off the engine, and climbed slowly and quietly from his car. In the house opposite the curtained windows glowed warm and inviting. His stomach lurched as he realised Cindy’s front door stood open. He became aware there was a sort of hush all around him.
He crept up to the front door and peered inside. The hall light was on dimly, and everything appeared normal, except for the almost deathly quiet. Surely if Cindy was here there would be some noise, wouldn’t there? A TV maybe, or some music.
Although the lights were off in the rooms at the front of the house, he could see a low light seeping from around the door that led into the lounge. The door was slightly ajar. He crept up to it as quietly as he could, scarcely daring to breathe. He stood outside the door and listened. He could just about make out something. Then he realised. It was someone quietly sobbing. All senses alert, he pushed the door open, not knowing what he might find in that room.
She was kneeling on the floor before a low table, a bouquet of flowers laid out on the floor next to her. In the centre of the table, a vase awaited the flowers. Her head was bowed over the flowers, and as Slater looked, a small sob shook her shoulders.
“Cindy?” he called softly. “Are you alright?”
She swung around, startled at first, but then she gave a small smile of recognition.
“Hello,” she said, hastily wiping her eyes. “I didn’t hear you arrive. How did you get in?”
“The front door was open,” he said. “Why are you crying? Has Bressler-”
“He brought me flowers,” she said, sadly. “Just to say goodbye, and good luck. Isn’t that sweet?”
“Flowers?” said Slater. “But I thought-”
“You see,” she interrupted him. “I told you Rudy was a nice man. He’s always been good to me. I know he got them from the late night supermarket but it was very thoughtful of him. I’ll miss that. Look, he even added a card.”
Slater was still not quite able to make sense of what he was seeing. He had expected an abduction, or worse, a murder. But flowers? And a card?
She reached forward and handed him the card.
To the one who got away, it read. Thank you and good luck for the future. Rudy.
Epilogue
It was nearly time to go home. As they stood outside Bob Murray’s office, Slater and Norman looked out onto a cold, dark November night. Slater knocked on the door, and waited patiently. Standing alongside him, Norman had made the effort to look smart for this meeting. Slater thought he’d failed, as usual, but at least he’d made the effort.
“Come,” boomed the familiar, deep voice from the other side of the door.
Norman looked at Slater.
“Who goes first?” he whispered.
Slater stepped aside and indicated for Norman to l
ead the way.
“Age before beauty.” He smiled at Norman, knowing there was no time for a retort.
As they entered the room, Murray rose from behind his desk to meet them, shaking each warmly by the hand. Then he led them across to three easy chairs well away from the formality imposed by his desk, and settled them down with tea and biscuits.
“I thought we should meet so we all know what’s going on and why,” he explained. “I’m coming under a great deal of pressure to save money and that could mean making some tough decisions. As senior members of my team, I’d welcome your views on one or two things.”
Slater nodded his appreciation of Murray’s desire to make them feel included, but he also knew the old man well enough to know they were extremely unlikely to be able to change his mind if he’d already made it up.
“Right,” Murray began. “First thing to tell you is that PC Flight has finally chosen to resign. I can’t say I’m disappointed she’s going, but I can say I’m glad I didn’t have to sack her.”
Slater had mixed feelings about this news. On the one hand, he knew she had to go, but he also thought it was a pity someone with so much potential had got herself into such a mess and caused so much trouble. He knew she had been referred for psychiatric help, and he hoped it helped sort her out.
“You’ll be pleased to know DC Biddeford has returned from leave, but he won’t be returning to duty here.”
“But boss,” interrupted Slater. “You can’t just push him out like that. He made a mistake. We’ve all done it.”
Slater and Norman had both lobbied on behalf of Biddeford being given a second chance. He had apologised to all of them, and there was no doubt he was genuinely sorry and not just paying lip service to save his job.
“He made a grave error of judgement,” said Murray, firmly. “It was far more than a mistake.”
He let them absorb his opinion before he went on.
“However, if you’ll just let me finish,” he continued. “I can tell you that after listening to what you two had to say in his defence it was very easy to see how highly you both regard him. I suggested he take some leave so he could think about his situation. We’ve had two meetings during that time, and we’ve come up with a solution that I think will work for everyone.”