by Ford, P. F.
‘Like I said, I wasn’t in any rush yesterday,’ said Woods, looking confused.
‘Southampton’s not far from here, is it? What is it? Less than an hour?’
‘I used to reckon an hour and a half to allow for traffic,’ said Woods, innocently. Then a look of panic flashed across his face.
‘Now wait a minute,’ he said. ‘What are you saying?’
‘I’m just saying you would have had plenty of time to call in to see your wife on the way back, that’s all.’ Norman smiled at him.
‘What? You think I murdered my own wife? Why would I want to do a thing like that?’
‘Well, you weren’t exactly getting on too well, were you? I heard she kicked you out.’
‘What? No. That’s rubbish,’ said Woods. ‘She didn’t kick me out. I left her. I couldn’t take any more, right? Sure I felt I had to get away, but I would never hurt her. I mean, why would I?’
‘The fact you left her suggests to me there were some problems between you. Maybe you needed to fix the problem for good.’
‘I did that by moving out,’ protested Woods. ‘I didn’t need to kill her.’
He looked desperately at Slater and Norman. No one said anything for almost a minute until Norman broke the silence.
‘Okay, Woody, let me be honest with you,’ he said. ‘I’m having a problem understanding how it could have taken you so long to get back to Wales yesterday. You see, the thing is, Diana was killed at around five-thirty yesterday afternoon. Now it seems to me you would have had plenty of time to make a little diversion to Tinton on the way home. And that would explain why it took you so long to complete the journey home.’
He stopped for a moment or two to watch the remaining colour drain from Woody’s face before he continued.
‘What you’re telling us about your journey home seems to be conveniently vague, and your version of events that led to you being in Wales seems to be at odds with what we’ve heard. So now we have to consider why there should be these discrepancies. You’re not a stupid man, are you, Woody? I’m sure you can see how we wouldn’t be doing our jobs if we didn’t look a bit deeper into this. You understand, don’t you?’
Woods gulped loudly.
‘Help us out here, Woody,’ said Slater. ‘If you stopped at motorway services we may be able to find you on CCTV and prove it. Where did you stop for coffee and fuel in Southampton?’
‘It was just a roadside petrol station. I don’t know what it’s called but I can show you on a map.’
‘Okay. How about the meal? Where did you stop for that?’
‘Leigh Delamere services,’ said Woody. ‘I got there around five-thirty and left at about eight-thirty.’
‘Three hours?’ Norman whistled. ‘You spent three hours in the motorway services? What did you do that took three hours?’
‘I took my book. They have some comfy seating in there. I got settled. Like I said, I don’t have anything to rush home for.’
Norman was sceptical about Woody reading a book for three hours in the motorway services, but he decided they didn’t need to pursue the matter any further right now. They could come back to that later.
‘We’ll be checking CCTV at all these places,’ warned Norman. ‘We’ll find out if you’re lying.’
‘I’m not lying. I’m telling you I didn’t murder my wife. I loved her!’ Woody shouted the last three words and then there was a hushed silence.
‘So, if you loved her so much, how come you live two hundred miles away?’ asked Norman, breaking the silence.
Woods stared at the table in front of him.
‘Come on, Woody,’ said Slater, gently. ‘If you want us to believe you, you need to help us to understand what was going on between you and Diana. How about you start by telling us why you and Diana split up.’
‘If you’ve met Diana’s parents I expect you’ve already heard chapter and verse about how it’s all my fault,’ said Woody. ‘And if you think she threw me out, you must have believed them.’
A look of comprehension spread across his face.
‘Of course,’ he said, looking hard at Norman ‘Now I get it. I bet he told you I killed her, didn’t he? And you believe him. Whatever happened to “innocent until proven guilty”?’
Norman shifted uncomfortably under Woody’s gaze. What Woody was saying wasn’t exactly correct, but he could see why he would think it was.
‘Aren’t you supposed to examine all the evidence and work out who did it? So what’s gone wrong? Is this some new form of short-cut justice? Because from where I’m sitting it looks like you guys have already made your minds up about who murdered my wife.’
Now Norman felt seriously uncomfortable and he sensed Slater shift awkwardly next to him. Woods had just accused them of doing the very same thing they had accused Laura Pettit and Amanda Hollis of doing.
‘Now wait a minute, Woody,’ Slater said. ‘We’re not accusing you of anything-’
‘Yes you bloody well are,’ interrupted Woody. ‘All you’ve done since you came into the room is suggest I killed her. Perhaps you should remember I’m the husband who’s just found out his wife’s been murdered. Just because you don’t understand why we were living apart, that doesn’t automatically mean I killed her.’
There was a brief silence, and then Norman stepped in.
‘With respect,’ he said, ‘you’d be surprised how often it’s the husband who’s guilty. I would also point out that this is your opportunity to tell us your side of the story, and so far you’ve been pretty vague about your movements yesterday. I can promise you we will be checking CCTV recordings to see if we can verify what you’ve told us so far. You need to think about that.’
‘And here’s something you need to think about, Detective Sergeant Norman. I did not kill my wife, and it doesn’t matter if you keep me here for the next ten years, I am not going to confess, because I haven’t done anything wrong. Now, unless I’m very much mistaken, I believe I’m entitled to refuse to answer any more questions. Am I right?’
‘You’re not under arrest Mr Woods-’ began Slater.
‘Which means I could just walk out, right now,’ interrupted Woods. ‘I know that, but I’m damned if I’m going to do that and give you lot further reason to suspect me. I’m prepared to stay here as long as it takes. But just so you understand, I’m not saying another word until I’ve made a phone call and spoken to a solicitor.’
‘There’s no need for that-’
‘I disagree.’
Norman stared at Woods. This wasn’t quite the outcome he’d been hoping for, but he couldn’t deny the man his right to a solicitor if he insisted.
‘Okay,’ he said, reluctantly. ‘While we get that arranged, let’s take a break for a couple of hours. Are you sure you want to stay here?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘What did you make of that?’ Norman asked Slater, after they’d left Woods with the duty sergeant to make his phone call.
‘If you mean “how did we do,”’ said Slater, ‘I think we made a complete balls-up.’
‘Well, yeah. I can’t argue with that. I think that was mostly down to me. I messed up good and proper, but that’s not really what I meant.’
‘Well, he’s very definite about what he says he didn’t do.’
‘He’s also very vague about what he says he did do,’ Norman pointed out. ‘I mean, with the gaps in his story, he had plenty of time to call on Diana after he left Southampton.’
‘There’s no denying that. But there’s a big difference between having the time to do it and actually doing it.’
‘Are you telling me you believe him?’ asked Norman.
‘Let’s put it this way,’ replied Slater. ‘I don’t think he’s actually lying, but I also don’t think he’s telling us everything.’
‘So, what’s he hiding?’
‘That’s what we need to find out.’
‘Do you have a plan?’ asked Norman.
‘We’ve got some ti
me to kill now, so why don’t we use that time to go and see this Jim Brennan guy and see if he can confirm this stuff about a courier job. In the meantime, we could get Jolly Jane to take Woody his cup of tea and sit with him for a while. Maybe she’ll be able to strike up a conversation and learn something that might help us.’
He looked at Norman.
‘So that’s my plan. What do you think?’
‘I think I don’t have anything better,’ said Norman. ‘So let’s do it.’
Fifteen minutes later, Jane Jolly knocked on the door of the interview room and pushed the door open. She carried a tray with two cups of tea and a plate of biscuits which she placed on the table between her and Ian Woods.
‘I’ve brought you some tea,’ she said, smiling warmly at him. ‘Mind if I join you? It’s my tea break and there’s no one around upstairs.’
Chapter 4
‘We’re looking for Jim Brennan,’ said Slater.
‘Who’s we?’ asked the man sat behind the desk in front of them.
‘DS Slater.’ Slater produced his warrant card.
‘And DS Norman,’ said Norman, showing his own card.
‘In that case, you’ve found him. What can I do for you?’
‘D’you know a guy called Ian Woods?’ asked Slater.
‘Woody? Yeah, I know him,’ said Brennan. ‘Why? What’s he done?’
‘No one’s saying he’s done anything. We just need to know if he was working for you yesterday.’
‘That’s right. He used to work for me full time, until he moved to Wales. He was one of my best drivers so when I got this job to pick up from Swansea I thought I’d ask him if he was free.’
‘How did you get hold of him?’ asked Norman. ‘Only he says he’s got no phone signal at home.’
‘We have a system, you see,’ said Brennan. ‘We’ve done it a couple of times before. I send him a text, and then he calls me back when he gets it. It’s no good for a job that needs doing right now, but this one was arranged a few days in advance.’
‘So what job did he do for you?’ asked Slater.
‘Pick up in Swansea at ten in the morning and deliver to Southampton. It was nothing complicated, but using a guy based in Wales saved a lot of time, and I know I can rely on Woody.’
‘What time did he get to Southampton?’ asked Norman.
‘Hang on a minute and I’ll tell you exactly.’ Brennan picked up a large diary from the desk in front of him and flipped through the pages.
‘Here we go,’ he said, running his finger down the page. ‘He called in, job done, at two-twenty.’
‘Just over four hours,’ said Norman.
‘Yeah, that’s about what I would have expected. Like I said, I know I can rely on Woody.’
‘What happened after that? Did you have another job for him?’
‘I was hoping he might call in here and say hello,’ said Brennan. ‘But he never did. When we arranged the Swansea job, he told me he had a load of records and CDs to collect from Diana, that wife of his. Apparently he left them behind when he walked out. She was threatening to chuck them out if he didn’t collect them. He said he was going to call in at her place on his way home from Swansea, but I’ve no idea whether he did or not.’
Slater and Norman exchanged a look.
‘What?’ Brennan said. ‘What did I say?’
‘You don’t know, do you?’ asked Slater, but he didn’t wait for Brennan to reply. ‘Diana Woods was murdered at around five-thirty yesterday afternoon.’
Brennan’s expression told them no, he hadn’t known about Diana’s death.
‘Oh my God! Really?’ he said. ‘But, what’s that got to do with Woody? Surely you can’t think he would have had anything to do with that. He might have left her, but he still cared for her. There’s no way he would ever hurt her. No, I’m sorry, if you think it was him you’ve got it all wrong, that’s for sure.’
‘But you just told us he said he was going round there,’ said Norman. ‘What if he went round there, they argued, and he lost his temper?’
‘What Woody? Nah. No way. With the way she behaves, if he was going to kill her he’d have done it a long time ago, but he’s never so much as raised a finger to her.’
‘I’m not with you,’ said Slater. ‘What do you mean “if he was going to kill her, he would have done it a long time ago”?’
‘And what does “with the way she behaves” mean?’ asked Norman.
‘You mean Woody hasn’t told you what she’s like?’ Brennan looked from Norman to Slater, and then back at Norman again. ‘No. I can see he hasn’t. But I don’t think it’s my place to tell you. I suggest you ask him why he left her.’
‘You could tell us now,’ said Norman. ‘It would save us all a lot of time.’
‘I’m sure it would, but I think you should hear it from him. I will tell you this much, though – if she was my wife I would have booted her out years ago.’
The two detectives exchanged a look, and Norman looked quizzically at Brennan.
‘I’m not big on second chances, see,’ he explained. ‘One betrayal would have been more than enough for me.’
‘You mean she-’ began Norman.
‘Like I said. I think you should hear it from Woody.’
They decided to return to Tinton police station via Bishops Common. The crime scene was cordoned off with one solitary officer occupying a car parked on the drive, supposedly guarding the site. He climbed hastily from his car when Slater and Norman pulled up in the lane.
‘I was just having a tea break,’ he explained, sheepishly.
‘Relax, son,’ said Norman. ‘We haven’t come to check up on you. Just make sure you don’t get too comfortable and fall asleep in that car.’
‘Yessir,’ replied the red-faced PC. ‘I’ll try not to do that.’
‘Do you have a key?’ asked Slater.
The young man dug in his pocket, finally producing a key with a huge label attached. He handed it to Slater, who marched up to the door and slid the key firmly into the lock and turned. The door swung open and Norman followed him carefully inside.
They found the box on the dining room table. It was crammed with old vinyl albums and CDs.
‘There’s some good stuff in here.’ Norman flicked through the albums. ‘Old stuff, too. Whatever this guy might, or might not, have done, he has pretty good taste in music.’
‘I’m sure he’ll be gratified to know you think that,’ said Slater, looking over Norman’s shoulder. ‘But I suppose this proves he didn’t collect them yesterday.’
‘It doesn’t prove he didn’t come here, though. It just suggests that if he did come here, he left in a hurry and forgot to take this box with him.’
‘Yeah, maybe.’ Slater admitted, grudgingly.
‘Let’s go and ask him,’ said Norman.
As they left the house, Norman’s mobile phone began to ring. He fished the phone from his pocket and looked at the incoming number.
‘Shit!’ he hissed, quietly.
‘You okay, Norm?’
‘I just need to deal with this,’ said Norman.
‘Okay,’ said Slater. ‘You carry on. I’ll lock up and return the key.’
Norman walked off towards their car, keeping his back to Slater and his head down, almost conspiratorially, as he answered the call.
Slater kept his distance as Norman spoke into the phone, waiting until he had dismissed the call and put the phone back in his jacket pocket. When he turned to face Slater, Norman did not look a happy bunny.
‘Norm,’ insisted Slater. ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’
‘Yeah. I’m fine. Really.’
Slater was unconvinced.
When they got back, Woody was in conference with his solicitor, so they agreed to give them some time to talk. In the meantime, they sought out Jane Jolly.
‘So what did he have to say for himself?’ Slater asked her.
‘Nothing earth shattering, I’m afraid. But enough to convin
ce me he’s not your man.’
‘You sound very sure of that, Jane,’ said Norman. ‘How come?’
‘I just get the impression he still loves her. He didn’t leave her because he wanted to – he left because he had to. I think he adored her, but she didn’t care too much for him.’
‘So why did he stick around so long?’ asked Slater.
‘Because when they got married they adored each other,’ Jolly said. ‘I think he was hoping if he waited long enough she would see what was happening and they could get back to where they were in the beginning. But he couldn’t wait forever.’
‘Does that sound likely to you?’ Slater asked Norman.
‘As it happens, yes,’ said Norman. ‘I can relate to that sort of hopeless feeling.’
Slater didn’t labour the point. He knew this was a touchy subject for his colleague. Norman had been happily married for many years until he was wrongly pushed into exile in Northumberland. His wife, a lifelong Londoner, wouldn’t leave her family to go with him and, as a result, their marriage had subsequently crumbled. Even today, more than four years on, it was clear Norman still hoped they might one day get back together.
‘Come on, Norm,’ said Slater. ‘Let’s go and see what Woody has to say about that box of records.’
Ian Woods’ solicitor was called Simon Strong. He looked as if the name was likely to be a good fit. He made it quite clear from the start that his client was here on a voluntary basis and if, at any point, he was unhappy with the way things were going he would insist on leaving. Slater knew this meant he felt they had no hard evidence to arrest his client.
‘Okay, Woody,’ began Norman, once they were all settled at the table. ‘You’ll be pleased to know Mr Brennan confirmed your story about working for him yesterday. He says you called in at two-twenty to say you’d finished.’
‘That’s what I told you.’
‘I know, but you understand why we have to check these things. We’re just doing our job, right?’
Woody nodded.
‘So tell me again, what did you do after you finished?