Tell Them Not To Trust Howell

[smallhobbit]

Title: Tell Them Not To Trust Howell
Rating: Green cortina
Word count: 2,380
Notes: The usual thanks to my marvellous beta jinxed100   This was going to be written for the prison challenge on 1973flashfic  but Gene said he had better things to do than be stuck in Tyler's brain so this quickly became a plot based fic.

 

“Sister, sister, come quickly,” the student nurse called out.

Sister Greasley walked down the corridor.  She saw no reason to move at more than her normal pace, in her opinion there was never any reason to break into a run.  Even if after a bus she found that glaring at the driver from forty yards was sufficient to make it wait for her.

 “What is the matter, Nurse Lloyd?”

“It’s Inspector Tyler, sister; he’s trying to sit up.”

The sister entered the side ward and approached her patient. 

“Just what do you think you are doing, Mr Tyler?” she demanded.

“I have to go; they need me back at the station.”

“You are going nowhere.  Lie back down this instance.”

“You don’t understand.  I’ve got something to tell them.”

“I understand perfectly.  And you can tell it to whoever comes to see you at visiting time.”

“No, no, no.  I can’t wait.”

“Why not?”

“I won’t remember.”

“In which case why don’t you tell me and I’ll tell them.”

“Tell them not to trust Howell.”

“I’ll do that,” the sister spoke more gently.  “Now, lie down again, you need to rest.”

She watched as the young man lay down and went back to sleep. 

Just before visiting time DCI Hunt approached the ward.  Sister Greasley had been looking out for him and called him into her office.

“How is he?” asked Gene.

“The same as yesterday.  He’s told me twice today that you mustn’t trust Howell.”

“It would help if we knew who the hell Howell was.”

“Have you asked him?”

“Of course I have.  He just looks at me as if I ought to know.”

“Well maybe you should find out.”

“Don’t you go telling me my job.  Just do your own.”

“My job, Chief Inspector Hunt, is to help your inspector to get well.  It would help him if he could stop worrying about this Mr Howell.  Therefore if you did your job and found out who he is, I might be able to do my job a bit better.”

Gene glared at the sister, but had to admit she had a point.  It had been three days since Sam had been brought into hospital, having been found unconscious by the side of a road.  He had had a bad blow to the back of the head, together with a broken arm and a number of nasty bruises.  Whilst the arm was in plaster and the bruises were beginning to fade the blow to the head had left Sam very anxious and confused and he did not seem to be improving.

Gene went in to see Sam.  “Sister tells me you want us to be wary of Howell.  Tell me about him and what he’s done.”

Sam sat up.  “You know about him.  You must know about him.”  He started to wave his arms around and banged the cast against the wall.

Instantly Sister Greasley appeared.  “This is not appropriate behaviour for a hospital.  Lie down at once Mr Tyler.”  Firmly she made her distressed patient lie down and tucked the blankets around him.  “And as for you, Mr Hunt, if you cannot do anything but upset my patient then I suggest you send a different officer to visit him this evening.”

Gene left the hospital feeling both frustrated and worried.  Once back at CID he spoke to Annie, asking her to visit Sam that evening and to see if she could encourage him to talk.

It was towards the end of visiting time that Gene returned to the hospital.  He found Annie chatting to Sam, filling him in on all the station gossip, including the fact that Ray was having one of the kittens from the cat that had moved in with Phyllis’ neighbour.  Annie smiled at Gene as he came in and told him that she’d given Sam paper and pencil in case he thought of anything he needed to tell them.  Gene nodded approvingly and looked at Sam.

“I’m sorry, Gene, I know there’s things I should be remembering but I just can’t,” Sam said.  His eyes started to fill with tears. 

Gene took out a relatively clean handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the younger man’s eyes.  “Hush, now.  You’ll have me in trouble with that sister again.”

The bell for the end of visiting time rang.  Gene sent Annie out, saying he would follow her.  Once she had left he bent down and gently kissed Sam’s forehead.

#####

The following morning Gene stood up in CID and said, “We need to find out who Howell is.  If we don’t crack this case soon I’m going to have to hand it over to Litton and there’s no way any of us want that.”

“The only Howell I can think of is Davy Howell,” volunteered Ray.

“He’s a safe breaker.  Even my granny wouldn’t trust him.”

The phone rang and Gene answered it.  “I’ve got Mrs Reynolds at the front desk,” said Phyllis.  “She’s very upset, her Mike’s missing.”

“The absence of any of the Reynolds clan should be a source of rejoicing.”

Phyllis ignored the remark.  “I’ve said you’ll talk to her.”

“Get someone to take her to Lost and Found.  I’ll be along in a couple of minutes.”

Gene took Ray with him to interview Mrs Reynolds.  Annie had offered to come, but since both men had had frequent conversations with the lady in the past, most of which had been on the lines of “how can you accuse my husband/son/brother of being at the robbery when he was at home with me?” Gene didn’t think a gentle female presence would be necessary.

When they had all sat down Gene asked, “What can you tell me about Mike?”

“I last saw him on Monday morning,” Mrs Reynolds began.  “I wouldn’t have worried if it had been Tom or Colin, but Mike’s got a regular job.  I thought maybe he’d stayed over with a mate Monday night, but then he didn’t come back Tuesday either.  And then yesterday evening Bob Laurence called in to ask if Mike was ill, ‘cos he hadn’t been at work all week.  I know he bunks off occasionally, especially if he’s been drinking the night before, but he’s never taken the week off.  So I thought maybe he’d got himself arrested and you lot hadn’t got round to telling me, but the desk sergeant says you’ve not had a Reynolds in all week.”

“Did Mike say he was doing anything different this week?”

“Not really.  Although he did say something last weekend about Davy Howell maybe having a cash job for him.  Mike’s a carpenter, so he quite often puts up the odd shelf of an evening for a bit of beer money.”

At the mention of Howell’s name Gene and Ray looked at each other, both thinking that maybe this the break they were looking for.

Gene stood up.  “Right, Mrs Reynolds.  We’ll instruct all our officers to keep an eye out for your Mike.  And I’ll get one of our WPCs to check with the hospitals in case he’s been admitted.  Do you need someone to give you a lift home?”

“What and give one of your lot the opportunity to snoop round?  No thanks, I’ll get the bus.”

When Gene got back to CID he was greeted by Annie saying, “The hospital has just phoned.  Sam seems to have remembered something and they think it would be a good idea for one of us to talk to him.  Do you want me to go?”

“No.  I’ll do it.”  Gene grabbed his coat.  “Ray, get that search started for Mike Reynolds.  And take Chris and go and bring Davy Howell in.”

As Gene drove to the hospital he thought back to the previous Sunday.  He had invited Sam round for Sunday lunch.  He’d even bought an expensive bottle of wine for the occasion.  After lunch he had suggested that they go up to the bedroom and to his delight Sam had happily agreed.  Once in the bedroom Sam had seemed both nervous and enthusiastic, a mixture that would have seem strange in anyone else, but entirely normal for his inspector.  Fortunately Sam had relaxed as Gene undressed him and he had shown an expertise that had surprised his senior officer.  They had fallen asleep in each other’s arms and when they woke again they continued to lie naked together enjoying the moment.  What worried Gene now was that Sam, in his confused state, might accidentally reveal something of that afternoon.  It also occurred to Gene that Sam might sub-consciously be trying to avoid revealing anything and in so doing was also concealing whatever had happened to him the following morning.

Once more Gene was met by Sister Greasley.  “Inspector Tyler seems better this morning.  We would consider discharging him, if he didn’t live alone.”

“There’s a spare room in my house,” interrupted Gene.  “He could come to me.”

“That would indeed be helpful, if Mr Tyler agrees.  Anyway, one of the porters lent him a car magazine to read and this seems to have agitated him again.  He’s been drawing pictures of cars as well.  We thought it might be significant, which is why I phoned you.”

As Gene headed towards Sam’s side ward the sister added, “Mr Hunt, if at all possible, please try to be tactful.”

Gene drew up a chair and sat down next to Sam’s bed.  Sam picked up the magazine and pointed to one of the pictures.  “I can vaguely remember a car; I think it looked like this.”  He pointed at a Vauxhall Viva.

“That’s quite possible.  We believe you were pushed out of a car.  The doc reckons you must have been hit on the head first and then you broke your arm when you fell out of the car.”

Sam nodded.  He showed Gene the drawing of the car that he had done.  “I keep trying to remember, but everything’s just out of my grasp.”

“Maybe I can help.  What colour do you think the car was?”

“Black, dark blue, um,” Sam’s voice started to tremble.

“That’s good.  We’ll start looking for a dark coloured four door Vauxhall Viva HC.  Can you remember how many of you were in the car?”

Sam looked at his drawing and pointed to where he thought the driver and passengers had been, counting as he went.  “Five.”

Gene picked up the pencil and drew circles on the drawing to show the passengers.  “You sat here?”  Sam nodded, so he wrote “Sam”.  Ignoring the person in the middle of the back seat Gene then pointed to the circle on the far right, took a deep breath and said “Mike Reynolds?”  This time Sam smiled and Gene realised that two pieces of information had finally come together in Sam’s brain.  Gaining confidence he pointed at the circle in the front passenger seat, “Davy Howells?” 

Relief spread over Sam’s face as the car journey finally came into focus.  “I didn’t know the heavy I was sat next to.  The driver looked vaguely familiar, but I’m not sure I ever knew his name.”

At that moment a nurse came in.  “There’s a phone call for you Chief Inspector.  It’s a WDC Cartwright and she says it’s urgent.”

Gene stood up.  “You’re doing really well Sammy-boy.  And I’ve told Sister that you can stay with me, so it looks like they’ll discharge you soon.  I’ll be back as soon as I’ve spoken to Annie.”

The nurse showed Gene where the telephone was.  “Yes, Annie, what have you got for me?”

“It looks like we’ve found Mike Reynolds.  A man answering his description is in hospital having been hit by a car.  He’s seriously injured but the doctor says he hopes he’ll pull through.  We’ve sent WPC Miller to take his mother to the hospital to identify him as he’s still unconscious.”

“Good.  Have they found Howell yet?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Get everyone out looking for him, together with the driver of a dark coloured Vauxhall Viva HC.”

“Yes, Guv.”

Having made the arrangements to collect Sam later that day, Gene returned to CID to discover that not only had Ray and Chris arrested Davy Howell, together with the heavy who had sought to prevent Howell’s arrest, but also Vince and Geoff had brought in Bill Garrett, a known accomplice of Howell’s and the owner of the Vauxhall Viva.

“Excellent work, gentlemen,” said Gene.  He was even happier when Bill Garrett, on learning that he was to be charged with attempted murder, couldn’t wait to provide all the information Gene required, including details of the blag that had been planned for the forthcoming weekend.

“It is definitely beer o’clock,” Gene announced.  “Sorry I can’t join you, but I have to collect the walking wounded from hospital.”

Having driven Sam to the house Gene made them both a cup of tea before asking, “Is there anything else you remember?”

Sam began slowly, “I think most of it has come back now.  I’d gone to have a further look at those warehouses on the way in to work – some of the statements on the Meredith file from last week didn’t quite make sense and I wanted to check the layout.  I must have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, because all I heard was someone shouting ‘look out, he’s a cop’ after which I don’t remember a thing until I came round in the car.  There was someone else in the car who looked like one of the Reynolds, but they kept calling him Mike, and I couldn’t recall a Mike Reynolds so I just assumed I was confused.  All this lad was saying was ‘I should never have trusted you Howell.’  After which I really don’t remember anything until I woke up in hospital.”

“Well, that all makes sense,” said Gene.  “I don’t suppose you remember anything about the Sunday afternoon, do you?”

Sam grinned cheekily.  “I remember agreeing that we needed to arrange a repeat performance very soon.  Although this may cause us to have to delay it.”  He waved his broken arm at Gene.

Gene grinned back.  “Don’t worry your pretty little head about that.  I’m sure we’ll find a way.”