by Ford, P. F.
She suddenly seemed to think she’d said more than enough.
‘I’ll just get you that key,’ she said. ‘I won’t be a minute.’
‘Now that was a very interesting conversation, don’t you think?’ asked Norman, once they were inside Diana Woods’ kitchen.
‘Yeah. We got more from her than we’ve had from the rest of them put together,’ said Slater. ‘It’s a pity we couldn’t speak to her before.’
‘She definitely had the hots for Woody.’
‘Sounds that way, doesn’t it,’ said Slater, absently sliding open kitchen drawers and peering inside.
‘That could be seen as a motive for murder,’ said Norman.
‘Only if you want to put your money on a rank outsider. She’s been in France for two weeks.’
‘Yeah. I admit that would make it difficult,’ agreed Norman. ‘And it’s certainly easy enough to check.’
‘I’m more interested in the white van,’ said Slater. ‘That van we saw at Rochester’s was a Peugeot, wasn’t it?’
‘It certainly was,’ agreed Norman. ‘And according to our new witness Rossiter used to drive one. Now that’s a coincidence, don’t you think?’
‘It can’t be a coincidence, can it?’ Slater smiled. ‘You know how much I hate them. I reckon Mrs Turner didn’t see Woody in a white van. She assumed it was Woody, because that’s what she expected, but we know it wasn’t him because Susie Brennan says he was at her house and that’s miles away. I reckon Mrs Turner saw Rossiter driving the white van. We already know there’s a discrepancy between when he says he got home and when his wife says he got home. He had plenty of time to drive out here, kill Diana, take the van back, and then go home.’
‘But we know he didn’t have sex with her that lunchtime, because he was up in London, so who did?’ asked Norman. ‘We need to find out who that was, because whoever it was is still a possible suspect.’
‘According to Mary, John Hollis had become a regular visitor,’ said Slater. ‘Now he told us the other day that he had been working the late shift. So, presumably he would have been at home for lunch.’
‘And it’s only a short stroll across the lane,’
‘He fits the bill, doesn’t he? Woody told us Diana liked to screw the husbands of her friends, and she especially liked having his mates. Hollis claimed to be Woody’s best mate, so he fits the profile on both counts.’
Norman walked across to the front door, opened it and looked across the lane.
‘He’s got to be the prime candidate,’ he said. ‘And his car’s over there. Why don’t we go over and see what he has to say?’
Slater was staring intently into one of the kitchen drawers and didn’t reply.
‘Dave,’ said Norman. ‘I said, let’s go and talk to Hollis now.’
‘What? Oh, sorry,’ said Slater. ‘Yeah, sure.’
‘You have that look,’ said Norman, coming across to see what Slater was looking at. ‘What have you found?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Slater. ‘Something just doesn’t seem right.’
He slid the drawer shut.
‘Maybe it’ll come to me later,’ he said.
‘Mr Hollis,’ said Norman, smiling pleasantly, when John Hollis answered his front door. ‘We were hoping you might be able to spare us a few minutes. We have a couple of questions.’
‘Oh. Err, right,’ said Hollis, obviously caught off guard. ‘Yes, of course, come on in.’
‘Is Mrs Hollis here?’ asked Norman, following Hollis inside the house.
‘No, I’m afraid not. She works from ten until two. Did you need to see her?’
‘Actually it’s you we need to speak to, Mr Hollis,’ said Slater. ‘It’s probably better that she isn’t here.’
‘Oh?’ said Hollis. ‘And why’s that?’
‘Because we want to ask you about your relationship with Diana Woods,’ said Norman.
Hollis went a little pale and licked his lips.
‘We are, sorry, were, just neighbours,’ said Hollis. ‘And friends, of course. Well, it was Amanda and Diana who were friends. Woody and I sort of became friends through the girls.’
‘Oh yes,’ said Slater. ‘That’s right. Didn’t you say you were Woody’s best friend?’
‘I’m one of the few real friends he’s got. Woody doesn’t trust people easily.’
‘And why do you think that is?’ asked Norman.
‘I think he’s been let down a few times,’ said Hollis. ‘With Diana.’
‘Have you let him down, Mr Hollis?’ asked Slater.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Hollis, uncertainly.
‘You’re sure about that, are you? ‘Only we have a little problem. You see, Diana had sex with someone on the day she died. We thought we knew who that was, but now we know we were wrong.’
Hollis was looking worried, but he didn’t say anything.
‘But it’s okay,’ said Norman. ‘Because whoever it was left us lots of evidence inside her, so we have his DNA, and of course, DNA is unique. So we’re thinking it would be a good idea to take some DNA samples and do some comparisons. If we do that, are we going to find you’re a match?’
‘No you won’t,’ said Hollis. ‘I always use a condom.’
‘Ah! So you admit you’ve been there,’ said Slater.
‘But I only did it the one time,’ blurted Hollis, desperately. ‘Oh God, if Amanda finds out she’ll kill me. You won’t tell her will you?’
‘We can’t make promises like that,’ said Slater.
‘And you’re sure it was just once, are you?’ asked Norman.
‘Alright, alright. But it was just an occasional thing. It wasn’t serious.’
‘Try telling that to your “best mate” Woody,’ said Slater.
‘But he’s not even with her anymore,’ said Hollis. ‘What difference would it make to him?’
‘I suppose you were just looking after her for him, were you?’ asked Slater.
‘So when did it start?’ asked Norman. ‘Was it after Woody left her?’
Hollis looked distinctly uncomfortable now.
‘It was while he was still with her, wasn’t it?’ said Slater. ‘Well, isn’t Woody the lucky one? I’m glad you’re not my best mate.’
‘It wasn’t like that,’ pleaded Hollis. ‘I didn’t plan it. I didn’t even like her that much. It just sort of happened, and once it had, I just had to come back for more whenever I got the chance.’
‘Oh well, that’s alright then,’ said Slater. ‘I wonder if Woody thinks you only “sort of” betrayed him. You do realise you’re not the only bloke she’s been doing it with, don’t you?’
‘Of course I bloody do,’ snapped Hollis. ‘I know she was just a sad old slapper. I wasn’t under any illusions about that.’
‘Don’t tell me,’ said Norman. ‘It was just sex.’
‘That’s all it ever was for Diana. She had no need for love or affection, but she craved sex like some sort of addict. She didn’t care who with, and she wasn’t even that fussy about where she did it.’
‘You mean to say you knew she was like that, and you still did it?’
‘That’s why I used condoms. I insisted, even though she didn’t like them.’
‘That was very noble of you,’ said Norman. ‘But I’d still go and get yourself checked out if I were you. And don’t forget, if you have caught something, the chances are you’ve passed it on to your wife.’
‘And good luck trying to explain how that happened,’ said Slater, with an evil grin.
It was obvious Hollis had never even considered the possibility before, but now the ramifications were becoming crystal clear.
‘Oh my God,’ he said. ‘She wasn’t, was she?’
‘I’m afraid we’re not at liberty to divulge that information,’ said Slater. ‘I’ll just say I’m glad it’s not my problem.’
‘Oh God, no,’ wailed Hollis. ‘What will Amanda say?’
‘I reckon there could be another murde
r for us to investigate,’ said Norman to Slater. ‘Maybe we should wait.’
‘No. I think you should get out, now. I’ve answered your questions, now leave, before she gets back.’
‘We’ll be checking out your story about being on the late shift on the day Diana died, Mr Hollis,’ warned Norman. ‘I hope, for your sake, it checks out, because if it doesn’t we might have to consider the possibility your affair with Diana gave you reason to murder her.’
Chapter 17
Norman and Slater sneaked quietly into the car park at six-thirty that evening. They figured Murray would be long gone home, and sure enough there was no sign of his car anywhere. They planned to quickly look in to see if there were any messages from Jolly, and then to get out as quickly as possible.
There was a handwritten message on Slater’s desk from Jane Jolly, demanding to know what was going on.
‘We’ll have to make up for it tomorrow,’ said Norman.
There was a vehicle report from Jolly, confirming the small white van they had photographed at Rochester & Dorset was registered to the company, and they had owned it for almost two years.
‘We need to find out who has access to it,’ Norman said.
There was also a report from Ian Becks down in the forensics lab.
‘Becksy says it’s definitely Diana’s prints inside that mobile phone we found,’ he told Norman.
‘Crap,’ said Norman. ‘That’s gonna make it harder for us to prove he knew it was in his desk. We need her mobile phone more than ever now.’
Then, as soon as Slater checked his email inbox, he saw there was a message from Millie Gibson, with a file attached.
‘Well, let’s not give up hope just yet. Millie has sent a copy of their daily diary. Help me check it against these text messages. Maybe we can see some sort of pattern.’
It didn’t take them long to find the first link.
‘He flew out on the afternoon of Monday the fifteenth,’ said Slater, reading from the diary. ‘But he was out of office all day.’
‘Okay, just a minute,’ said Norman, scrolling through the stored messages on the mobile phone they had taken from Rossiter’s office. ‘Here you go. Received just before midday. It says “B. Fancy a quick f**k before you go. D xx.” Then, he sends “MT house here” with a winky, smiley face. Then three minutes later there’s another one received. “C U in 30. Xx.”
‘What do you think?’ asked Slater.
‘It works for me,’ said Norman. ‘Sounds like she needed a seeing-to and he had an empty house.’
‘Let’s see how many more we can tie together.’
Over the next hour, they found another fourteen cases where the texts could be linked to Rossiter’s activities.
‘If there ever was any doubt, I think it’s been removed now. This is his phone alright,’ said Norman. ‘But I still think we need to find her phone.’
‘Okay,’ said Slater. ‘Let me just phone Millie Gibson to say thank you, and then we can get out of here.’
‘Oh good. Because I feel a takeaway coming on. What do you fancy? Thai, Indian, or Chinese?’
‘Hi, is that Millie?’ said Slater into the phone. ‘This is DS Slater. I just wanted to thank you for sending the email. I know you’re taking a risk helping us out like that.’
‘Not really.’ She giggled. ‘I’m leaving anyway, so they can hardly sack me, can they?’
‘Even so, we do appreciate your help and I wanted to make sure you know it. That’s why I thought it would be better to phone now and not phone you at work tomorrow.’
‘It’s a pleasure. And anyway, it’s nice to have a little bit of excitement in my life. So what’s going to happen now?’
‘We’re not exactly sure yet,’ said Slater. ‘And it’s probably best that you don’t know, then if we turn up you won’t look as if you were expecting us. There is one more thing you might be able to help us with, though.’
‘Go on,’ she said. ‘If I can help, I will.’
‘We noticed there’s a small white van parked in a garage at the back of the building. Can you tell me who uses it?’
‘The Peugeot? It’s like a company runabout. Basically anyone can use it. It’s supposed to be for company business, like running errands, collecting stationery, and stuff like that, but you know how lax they are about things at that company. Just about everyone uses it. People go shopping in it, collect dry cleaning, and all sorts. Someone even used it to go and collect some compost from the garden centre a few weeks ago.’
‘Is there a record of who uses it?’ asked Slater.
‘Well, there is a book. Anyone who uses it is supposed to say what time they went out, where they went, how many miles they did, and when they got back. But about one person in ten ever bothers to fill it in.’
‘So it would be impossible to prove if someone had used it on a specific day and time?’ asked Slater.
‘Well, the book would be useless. But, how far do you want to go back?’
‘I want to know if anyone used it the day Diana died,’ said Slater.
‘What?’ she gasped. ‘You mean you think someone from work killed her? Oh my God.’
‘This is just between me and you, Millie. You mustn’t discuss it with anyone else. It’s a possibility we have to consider, because a small white van was seen in the area at the time she died. Now you asked me how far I wanted to go back.’
‘The CCTV,’ she said. ‘We use CDs to store the footage from each day. They’re used in rotation and recorded over every ten days.’
‘So you always have the last ten days on file,’ said Slater. ‘And Diana died eight days ago.’
‘So, if anyone used the van that day, you should be able to see when.’
‘You’re a real star, Millie,’ said Slater.
‘If I heard that right,’ said Norman, when Slater had finished his call, ‘they could have CCTV showing Rossiter driving off to Diana’s in that van on the day she died.’
‘It looks that way,’ said Slater, smiling. ‘We’re beginning to build quite a case against Rossiter. I think it’s time we dragged his arse back down here and asked him some more questions, don’t you?’
‘We need to organise a search warrant and get down there first thing tomorrow.’
They both jumped as a roar came from behind them.
‘And where the bloody hell have you two been all day? I’ve been looking everywhere.’ DCI Bob Murray was standing in the doorway, hands on his hips, face red.
Slater and Norman looked at each other in resigned dismay. Someone must have tipped Murray off that they had sneaked back into the station. They were caught and there was no escape. They were just going to have to take what was coming.
Murray seemed to rant on and on for hours, although in reality it was probably no more than two or three minutes. But in those two or three minutes he managed to bring up just about every little thing they had done wrong between them over the last few months. As he raved on, his face became more and more red, and then eventually, a vivid shade of purple. Finally, around about the time he was demanding to know why Ian Woods still hadn’t been charged with murder, he seemed to run out of adjectives to describe just how useless they were and, most likely, breath with which to carry on his diatribe.
‘Well,’ he gasped to a finish. ‘What have you got to say for yourselves?’
Slater had become more and more enraged as Murray rambled on and had been waiting for his chance to answer back, but before he could start telling Murray what he really thought of him, Norman stepped in.
‘Alright, Dave, I’ve got this,’ he said, stepping in front of Murray.
‘Now just you listen to me.’ He was right in Murray’s face. ‘We’ve just about had enough of you behaving like a bear with a sore head all the time. Has it ever occurred to you that you treat the people who work for you like shit? Your job is to lead and inspire, but all you seem to do is snap people’s heads off and put them down.’
Murray looked shocke
d.
‘Who do you think you are?’ he roared at Norman. ‘You want to watch your tongue. If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be wandering the bloody moors up in Northumberland.’
‘That’s true,’ said Norman. ‘And don’t you like to keep reminding me? I know you gave me a lifeline, and I’m grateful for that, but I didn’t come down here to be constantly abused. Yes, I owe you, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stand here and let you treat us like shit anytime you like, just because it makes you feel better about your own problems.’
‘The only problems I have are you two.’
‘Oh. Is that right?’ said Norman. ‘I think maybe you need to take another look at your crime figures. You know as well as we do that we’re most definitely not your problem. Your problem is you’re still stuck in the good old days when it was all about kicking arses, knocking heads together and getting a result, even if it meant making the evidence fit the result you wanted.’
Slater stood, in awe.
‘You just haven’t moved with the times have you?’ Norman continued. ‘You’re so far behind you’re still struggling to send an email without making a balls up, and you’re gradually drowning in a sea of paperwork and modern thinking. That’s why you’ve put in for voluntary redundancy, isn’t it? Because, you just can’t cope anymore.’
Slater could do nothing but stand back and listen. He sometimes thought Norman sided with Murray too readily, but he couldn’t accuse him of doing that this time. Norman’s words had actually taken all the steam out of Murray who had gone quiet now, and was beginning to look just a bit sheepish.
‘I’m genuinely sorry you’re struggling,’ continued Norman. ‘But you can’t carry on blaming everyone else for your own shortcomings. All the guys that work here have the greatest respect for you and what you’ve achieved. That respect has been earned over the years, but all you’re doing now is eroding it away. Carry on like you are, and they’ll have nothing but contempt for you. Do you really want that?’
Murray slumped back and parked his backside on the desk behind him. For a brief moment he looked utterly defeated, and it seemed he might even burst into tears, but then, with what appeared to be a monumental effort, he managed to pull himself together.