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    When Cromford got back to the station there was a terse memo waiting for him on his desk, Chief inspector Arkright wished to see him immediately. He left his office and hurried down the corridor, as he neared the duty desk he could hear the two P.C's with their backs to him laughing or could that be sniggering, he approached the desk.

             ‘What's up lads?' he asked in a jovial tone.

             ‘Nothing inspector,' said Patterson while Jones still with his back to Cromford snorted into his mug spraying tea over the wall.

             ‘Only I couldn't help hearing you laughing.'

             ‘Really Inspector?'

             ‘It wouldn't have anything to do with this note from the Chief Inspector would it?' he said waving the memo.

             ‘You mean you don't know?'

             ‘Know what?'

             ‘He really doesn't know.'

             ‘Know what?' exclaimed Cromford shouting in his exasperation. He lowered his voice, forcing himself to calm down, he asked again.

             ‘Know what?'

             ‘About the crime scene at Bramford?'

             ‘Well yes I've just got from there what about it?'

             ‘About the fire and Constable Turnbull's foot?'

             ‘What fire?'

             ‘So you do know about Turnbulls foot?'

             ‘Yes, yes I know about Turnbulls foot, how is he?'

             ‘He's in Tidton Royal, his foots broken.'

             ‘Ahh, I'll have to send him a fruit basket or something, now what's this about a fire?'

             ‘The crime scene went up in flames, the cars just a burnt out shell.'

             ‘How the hell did that happen?'

    So they told him about the jack, the fuel tank and the cigarette end.

             ‘Does the Chief Inspector know?'

             ‘Oh yes,' they both said nodding.

             ‘****.'

    Cromford straightened his tie, squared his shoulders and knocked at the chief Inspectors door.

             ‘Come.'

    Cromford entered the room, the chief Inspector was standing by the window looking out over the sights of Tidton, the gasworks, the brewery and the huge new shopping mall building, the site with its cranes scaffolding and piles of rubble dominated the town centre.

             ‘Ahh Cromford any idea why I wanted a little chat?'

             ‘An inkling sir.'

             ‘An inkling Cromford, an inkling,' shouted the chief inspector. He turned and reached for a bottle of pills which were on his desk. Opening the bottle with shaking hands he spilled most of them on the floor. He managed to retrieve two which he swallowed, gulping them down with a small cup of water. He sat; Cromford could see a vein on his forehead throb and fervently wished he was somewhere else.

   As the chief inspector began to summarise as he saw it, Cromfords shortcomings, as a detective inspector, as a policeman in general and even as a human being complete with expletives some of which were in fact to Cromford, he began to think back to the glory days, or more accurately, the glory day.

    Sergeant Cromford as he was then only a year before, was running late, he had to get to the bank and pay off the credit cards and be back at the station to arrange a identity parade. The evening before Miss Edgeton had been surprised by a flasher as she left church after choir practice. The usual suspects had been rounded up, unfortunately her assailant had been wearing a ski mask, however Miss Edgton was convinced that she would be able to identify him by his ‘john thomas' as she referred to it. Sergeant Cromford suspected she was actually looking forward to the highly unusual identity parade, if the press got hold of this one it would be back to traffic he was certain.

    He pulled up outside the bank double parking alongside a jag, he slammed his car door and bolted for the bank entrance, ignoring a shout from behind, presumably the jag driver complaining that he had blocked him in, sorry pal you'll have to wait. Cromford pushed hard on the heavy swing doors of the bank forcing them ‘smack' against the back of the head of a man, who it appeared had been backing toward the doors. Cromford raced forward intending to help the stunned gentleman to his feet, then it dawned on him that the prone struggling man had a lady's stocking over his head and was reaching for a sawn off shotgun which lay on the floor where he had dropped it. Cromford lunged forward on to his knees grabbed the gun, rolled on his shoulder and came up again in a classic half kneeling stance. The only people more surprised than Cromford were the would be bank robber and the getaway driver who'd just made it to the door of the bank in his quest to get Cromford to move his car.

    The rest of the day had been a blur, as he looked down at the front page of the Tidton Chronicle he boggled at a photograph of himself having his hand shaken by a beaming Chief Inspector under the headline ‘Tidtons finest foils bank heist.' Sergeant Cromford, now detective Inspector Cromford, leant back in his very comfortable chair, in his very comfortable office so recently vacated by his predecessor that his wife's photograph was still on Cromfords desk.

             ‘Are you listening to me?" yelled the Chief Inspector.

             "Yes sir, sorry sir, what were you saying?"

             "What progress have you made on the Blakely case?"

             "Enquiries are progressing sir."

             "Don't give me that bullshit Cromford, that's what we tell the press, you'd better pull your bloody finger out or you'll be back issuing parking tickets, do I make myself clear?"

             "As crystal sir."

             "Now get out."

             "Yes sir." 

Keyword: The Bramford wolf part 2

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Posted by thirteen 2008-04-11 13:45:12 .... Nice.OFF TO CHAPTER 3. + Report this comment

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