by Ford, P. F.
Slater let out an involuntary, impatient sigh. He really had intended to let Norman do all the talking, but now he couldn’t stop himself.
‘Did you see the registration number?’ he asked.
‘Well no,’ she admitted. ‘But he was driving that van when he lived here. I’d know it anywhere.’
‘What make was it?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said, impatiently. ‘They’re all the same, aren’t they?’
‘No, Mrs Turner. They are not all the same.’
‘But he was driving it.’
‘You saw his face?’ asked Norman.
‘Well, no,’ she conceded, reluctantly. ‘But it was definitely a man. I could see that much.’
‘So you don’t really know it was him,’ concluded Norman.
‘But we all know he murdered her. Amanda told me. And it was a small white van at the right time. I’ve heard all the things people have been saying about him. It must have been him.’
‘Do you know how many small white vans there are within ten miles of this house?’ asked Slater.
She said nothing.
‘There are well over a hundred,’ said Slater. ‘We checked, so we know it’s right.’
She managed to look indignant they hadn’t taken her word as gospel, but again she said nothing.
‘You may well have seen a white van, but if you can’t tell us the make of the van, and you didn’t actually see the registration number, and you didn’t see who was driving, you can’t say with any certainty that it was Ian Woods, can you, Mrs Turner?’
‘It could have been any one of the hundred and odd small white vans that are registered locally,’ added Norman.
‘But they said...’ she began.
‘But they were wrong to say,’ said Norman, gently. ‘We don’t know Ian Woods killed Diana. You can’t tell us what you think we want to hear Mrs Turner. You can only tell us what you really saw.’
‘But Diana was so lovely,’ she said. ‘Why would anyone else want to kill her?’
‘That’s what we have to find out,’ said Norman. ‘But whoever is guilty, we have to be able to prove it with facts, not with guesswork. Now I’m happy to accept you saw a white van, but I can’t accept you saw Ian Woods, and I can’t accept it was definitely his van.’
She looked distinctly crestfallen.
‘Don’t feel too bad about it,’ said Norman. ‘You may well have provided us with a vital piece of evidence, and for that we’re very grateful, but we can only accept the facts and not the speculation.’
‘I feel such a fool,’ she said.
‘Don’t,’ said Norman. ‘It’s not necessary.’
‘That Amanda Hollis is a bloody menace, going around putting ideas into people’s heads like that,’ said Slater, as they got back into their car.
‘I know,’ agreed Norman. ‘But you can’t deny this doesn’t look good for your friend Woody.’
‘He’s not my friend,’ said Slater. ‘I just don’t think he should be the victim of a witch hunt. You agreed with me when we were out here before.’
‘That was before we had any evidence to back up their claims. Right now it’s getting difficult to see how it could be anyone else.’
‘But we’ve got no hard evidence. It’s still possible he had nothing to do with it.’
‘We have no hard evidence, yet. And if you want to talk about possibilities, it’s still possible Tinton Town football club will, one day, reach the premier league, but it’s really hard to believe isn’t it?’
Slater realised he was wasting his breath so he didn’t pursue the point.
‘Where to?’ he asked, hoping to change the subject as he started the car.
‘I think we’d better go back,’ said Norman. ‘I think we need to talk to your man Woody again.’
‘I don’t think we should be arresting him.’
‘And what if we don’t arrest him and he decides to do a bunk?’ asked Norman. ‘We’ll look pretty damned stupid in front of Murray then, won’t we?’
‘Don’t you think he’ll have gone by now if he’s intending to?’
‘We don’t know that he hasn’t yet.’
‘If he’s still at that hotel like he said he was going to be,’ said Slater, ‘it proves he’s not going to run, right?’
‘It might just prove he thinks we’re too stupid to catch him,’ replied Norman.
‘Oh, come on, Norm. You’ve met the guy. Did he really come across like that to you? Because he doesn’t look like a confident, cocky, killer to me.’
Norman didn’t say anything, and Slater knew he was mulling it over.
‘We’re going to have to bring him in, whether you like it or not,’ Norman said finally. ‘Let’s hear what he has to say when I tell him a white van was seen at the scene of the crime. Then I’ll decide if I’m going to hold him or not.’
‘I’ve got the landline phone record,’ announced Jolly, when they got back. ‘And I’ve got some CCTV footage from Leigh Delamere services on the M4.’
‘Does the phone record tell us anything?’ asked Slater, hopefully.
‘Not really. I’ve printed it out. There’s a copy on your desk. It looks like she hardly seemed to use it. I suspect it’s just there for the broadband. She probably used her mobile more than her landline.’
‘Any news on when we’ll have that?’
‘I’m chasing it,’ she said. ‘But you know what these places are like.’
Yeah. He knew. He just hoped it wasn’t going to take too much longer.
He picked up the copy of the phone records and glanced through it. As Jolly had already said, it looked as though Diana Woods made most of her calls from her mobile phone. There were just a handful of calls made from the landline, and most of those seemed to be to 0800 numbers. But there was one call that appeared to have been made to a mobile number just three nights before she had died.
‘We’ve got Ian Woods’ phone number, haven’t we?’ he asked.
‘It’s there on your desk, somewhere,’ said Jolly.
He sorted his way through his desk until he found the file with Ian Woods name on top. He flipped the file open and ran his finger down the personal information on the first page. Sure enough, it was the same number Diana Woods had called.
‘Well,’ he said. ‘This phone record shows she called Woods three days before she died. It wasn’t a very long call, but it would have been long enough to give him an ultimatum about his records going to the tip if he didn’t collect them.’
‘That call could have been about anything,’ said Norman. ‘We have no way of knowing exactly what was discussed.’
‘You’re not going to cut this guy an inch of slack, are you?’
‘No, I’m not. At least, not as long as he’s our prime suspect. Now where’s that number for Simon Strong? I’m going to tell him we need to speak with his client again, assuming the guy hasn’t already done a runner.’
Slater looked at Jolly and raised his eyebrows.
‘They’re going to be here at four,’ said Norman, a few minutes later. ‘So we’ve got a couple of hours to kill.’
‘In that case I’m going to have a look at this CCTV footage,’ muttered Slater, climbing to his feet.
‘Have we got Woods’ credit card records yet, Jane?’ asked Norman.
‘Should be here later this afternoon.’
‘One more thing,’ said Slater. ‘We need you to contact everyone who lives on Bishops Common. Did anyone have a parcel delivered late that afternoon, or did anyone have someone working on their house? We’re looking for a reason for a small white van to have been down there.’
‘My client has asked for my advice regarding coming here under a voluntary basis to answer questions, and I have advised him he should stop, forthwith,’ announced Simon Strong when they were assembled in the interview room.
Norman looked a bit miffed at this, but Slater could understand what Strong was saying. If they arrested Woods, they would have a limit as to how long they co
uld detain him without charging him. If they continued as they were, with Woods here as a volunteer, they could go on forever.
‘But I don’t have many more questions to ask,’ said Norman.
‘Well, if you arrest Mr Woods you can ask as many questions as you wish,’ replied Strong. ‘Otherwise we’re out of here, right now.’
‘Very well.’ Norman climbed to his feet to deliver his speech. ‘Ian Woods, I’m arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Diana Woods...’
‘Okay, Woody,’ began Norman, once the formalities were out of the way. ‘This is how it is. We now have a witness who saw a small white van, similar to yours, leaving Bishops Common at five forty-five on the afternoon Diana was murdered. I believe that was your van. What do you have to say to that?’
‘D’you know how many small white vans there are on the roads in this country?’ asked Woody. ‘They’re all over the place.’
‘But they’re not all being driven by you.’
‘Well the one your witness saw wasn’t being driven by me either.’
‘You’re quite sure about that, are you?’ asked Norman.
‘Absolutely,’ said Woods. ‘I already told you. I didn’t go to Bishops Common. I was going to go but I changed my mind and went home instead.’
‘Oh yeah, that’s right. You chickened out in case Diana shouted at you. That’s very brave of you.’
‘It’s got nothing to do with being brave. I just don’t need that sort of hassle. I’m not short of money. I can buy those records and CDs again. Why put up with a load of earache when I don’t need to?’
‘How come a courier is so well off?’ asked Norman.
‘I don’t see that it’s any of your business,’ said Woods. ‘But I’ve got nothing to hide so I’ll tell you. As a courier you can get lots of downtime when you’re just waiting around. I used my downtime to educate myself about the many ways you can make a living online. Over the past three years I’ve built myself a business. It’s how I could afford to walk out and start again. I don’t need Diana’s money, you see. I earn two or three times what she earns. If she had only taken a little interest in what I was doing she would have known that, and maybe she could even have been a part of it, but she chose not to know. That’s also why I don’t need her share of our house. I was going to sign the whole lot over to her as part of our divorce.’
They would have to check his bank statements, of course, thought Slater, but if he was telling the truth that was the financial motive crossed off the list.
‘Anyway,’ said Woods. ‘I thought you were going to check the CCTV from the services to check out my story. They will prove I’m telling the truth.’
‘Yeah,’ said Norman. ‘About those CCTV cameras. The footage from the petrol station in Southampton confirms that part of the story-’
‘Of course it does. Because I’m telling the truth.’
‘But we have a problem with the Leigh Delamere footage,’ continued Norman. ‘The cameras can confirm what time you left, but they don’t show you arriving. For all we know you could have arrived just five minutes before you left.’
‘But my credit card receipts will show what time I paid for my meal. I can’t fake that, now can I?’
‘We’ve already requested that information,’ said Norman. ‘It should be here any minute.’
‘Well, until you’ve checked it out,’ interrupted Strong, ‘I would suggest you have no more questions for my client. I would also like to suggest you have no real grounds for holding him.’
‘But that was your idea, Mr Strong,’ replied Norman. ‘You asked me to arrest him, so I did.’
‘It’s okay, Simon,’ said Woods. ‘I’m innocent. If I have to stay in a cell for a couple of nights to prove it, then that’s alright. I appreciate these guys have plenty of people telling them I’m responsible so they have to check me out. It’s what they do, isn’t it?’
Slater wasn’t sure if this was just bravado from Woods, or if he really was this laid back about the situation. Either way it was very convincing. He doubted he would have been so calm if the situation had been reversed.
‘Okay,’ said Norman, after a couple of minutes. ‘Let’s adjourn this interview until we’ve had a chance to check out this credit card. Let’s reconvene at six o’clock.’
Chapter 7
‘This guy’s way too cool,’ Norman said to Slater as they made their way back up to their incident room. ‘He knows something we don’t.’
‘Yeah,’ said Slater. ‘He knows he’s not guilty and that we’re wasting our time trying to prove otherwise.’
‘He hasn’t convinced me yet.’
‘What about the fact the pathologist reckoned the killer was short?’ argued Slater. ‘Woods must be six feet tall. Where I come from, that’s not considered short.’
‘That’s not enough to rule him out.’
‘But you’d happily accept it ruled him in, if it was the other way around, wouldn’t you?’
‘Well, yeah, I guess so,’ said Norman. ‘But-’
‘Never mind but,’ interrupted Slater. ‘You seem to be trying to make the evidence fit, instead of taking it at face value.’
‘Now wait a minute,’ Norman began, but Slater was having none of it.
‘You know we don’t have a single shred of real evidence against this guy,’ he insisted. ‘But you won’t admit it. This isn’t like you, Norm. I don’t know what your problem is, but it’s making you blind to the facts.’
Norman stopped dead in his tracks, but Slater kept on walking. He felt sure they were wasting their time focusing on Woods, but he didn’t see what more he could say to make Norman see it for himself.
‘Did you find out how long it would take to drive from Tinton to Leigh Delamere services?’ Slater asked Jolly.
‘About an hour and forty-five minutes,’ she replied. ‘Of course that’s if he stuck to the speed limits, so you could probably knock as much as a half hour off it if he was tearing along.’
‘Yeah, but don’t forget most of that journey would have been done in the rush hour,’ he said. ‘I think you’d be hard pressed to save that much time in heavy traffic, so let’s call it an hour and a half at best.’
‘So, it’s just about possible he could have done it.’
‘Ah. But only if there were no hold-ups,’ said Slater, unconvinced.
‘I didn’t check. But I can, if you want me to.’
‘Yes, please,’ he said.
Norman bumped his way through the doors and glared at Slater, but before he could say anything, Jolly defused the situation by thrusting a handful of papers at him.
‘Ian Woods’ bank and credit card statements,’ she said.
‘Right,’ he said, taking the papers and heading for his desk. ‘Now let’s see what I can prove.’
Slater’s desk phone started ringing.
‘‘There’s a lady down here in reception, wants to talk to you,’ said the voice of the duty sergeant. ‘She says she has some information for you regarding Ian Woods.’
‘Let me guess,’ said Slater. ‘Does she want to tell me what a nasty piece of work he is?’
‘I couldn’t say,’ said the voice. ‘She says she’ll only talk to you.’
‘Okay.’ He sighed. ‘I’ll be down right away.’
Wearily he dropped the phone back onto its cradle.
‘Apparently there’s someone downstairs who wants to talk to me about Ian Woods. Do you want to come, Norm?’
‘No. That’s okay,’ said Norman, frostily. ‘You deal with it. I’ve got these statements go through.’
A few minutes later it was Norman’s desk extension that was ringing.
‘Yo!’ he said into the phone.
‘It’s me,’ said Slater.
‘I’ve just found proof Ian Woods paid for his meal at seven forty-five that evening,’ said Norman. ‘That would almost be a perfect fit if he went straight from murdering Diana.’
‘It wasn’t him,’ said Slater. ‘Come
down here and I’ll prove it.’
‘What? What do you mean you’ll prove it?’
‘Woody has an alibi. Come down here and hear it for yourself.’
‘Shit,’ said Norman, as he put the phone down.
‘Problem?’ asked Jolly.
‘It seems Ian Woods might have an alibi,’ said Norman, disappointment washing over him.
‘Well,’ said Jolly, smiling. ‘I don’t want to say I told you so-’
‘So don’t,’ interrupted Norman. ‘Just don’t, right?’
She gave him her sweetest smile and poked her tongue out as he stomped his way through the doors.
When Norman found Slater, he was talking to an attractive woman, aged around fifty, who turned out to be Jim Brennan’s wife, Susie. Slater introduced her to Norman and then invited her to tell Norman what she had just told him.
‘Ian Woods was at my house from three o’clock until about five on the day Diana Woods died,’ she said. ‘And before you jump to any conclusions, no, we’re not having an affair.’
‘So how come he was at your house?’ asked Norman.
‘I do the books for my husband. I work three days a week over there so I know all the guys who work there. They often sit in with me and have a cup of tea and, as a result, I tend to hear their problems. I suppose I’m a bit of an agony aunt to some of them. Anyway, Woody was a very unhappy man when he was with Diana, and he used to confide in me a lot. He used to talk to Jim as well. He’s a friend as well as a driver so I think he trusted us.
‘Between us we’ve been a bit of a shoulder for Woody to lean on over the last three or four years, but since he upped sticks and moved away, I’ve hardly seen him. And then, the other day he called to say he was going to be passing and would it be alright if he called in for a cup of tea.’
‘So why didn’t he tell us this himself?’ asked Norman.
‘Probably because he didn’t want to get me involved.’
‘Why would that be a problem?’
‘Why do you think?’ she said. ‘Look at your own reaction. Straight away you assumed we’re having an affair. How do you think my Jim would react?’