EXTRACT FOR Upper Hampton (Author Unknown)
Chapter 1 - Upper Hampton
Upper Hampton was a small town in the area where Chief Inspector Julie Ashton was stationed.
After she had successfully captured an international assassin whilst stationed as an inspector in North London, she was promoted to Chief Inspector, but her volatile nature and bullish ways needed to be contained, so the powers that be moved her away to the country. It was a large rural area with small towns and villages dotted about. It wasn't that she did not respect their authority, just that she was not afraid to speak her mind and, if asked to ignore a situation, she would tell them why she was not going to do that and invariably proved them wrong. This did not go down well with the powers that be.
Banished to the countryside, which was better than to the Outer Hebrides, she began to settle in, but even that was not to last. On her first day she was handed a murder case. A prominent businessman's wife had been poisoned and more were to follow. It was a complicated case and took time to solve, but with her tenacity and knowledge; she managed to solve the case. It took until four more deaths had occurred in the town where the main station was situated. She could not work out how the murderer managed to poison the wine, because no-one had been in the cellar and the victim's husband had personally selected the wine for the dinner, which made him the prime suspect, that was, until he became a victim himself.
Julie had left school and joined the army for adventure and then, because it did not provide the adventure she craved, she joined the elite special services. She was a sniper, trained for bomb disposal and became a martial arts expert. However, a roadside bomb put paid to her elite service and the injury she sustained made her no longer combat ready. She was offered a promotion in the regular army, but that wasn't for her, so she left under the premise of unfit for duty.
At mid-twenties, she decided to begin a solid period of training to ensure she was fit enough to follow in her father's footsteps. She joined the police force.
Her guile, quick wit and intelligence meant that she gained promotions quickly, but her blunt approach also brought resentment from her colleagues and, mainly, her superiors.
At mid-thirties, banished to the countryside where the cases usually amounted to the odd stolen tractor, there was a bout of sheep rustling and bar room brawls at the local pub, not the most challenging of jobs, but it wasn't all bad.
Solving the case gained her a lot of respect in the town; her blunt approach to a pub brawl did not go un-noticed, either.
"Gentlemen, take this outside, please," she would say and if they didn't then she would throw them outside herself. "Yes, it is pouring down and you are getting wet, go home, or stay there and cool off, but do not try to enter this pub until I say you can," she told one pair of fighters, who looked at her stood just inside the doorway, then at each other, got up and went home. They knew better than to argue with her.
This incident was preceded by one in the pub she used, a country pub with rooms and she regularly ate lunch there. An argument became heated at the bar; Julie turned around and looked at the two men. The barman pointed to Julie. They turned to see her looking at them and walked away from each other, leaving the argument alone. No need to speak, the look was enough, they had disturbed her lunch and that was not allowed.
Julie was not what you might call a hard person to look at, by any means; her steely blue eyes could melt your heart. She had compassion for the injured and empathy for the bereaved, but this could never be confused with being soft. She could break your arm in an instant. She has, as an operative in the Special Forces, slit Taliban throats and broken their necks with her bare hands. It was not to be bragged about, just part of her job as a lieutenant.
Now those steely blue eyes told the men that they were disturbing her lunch, as they bore into the men's souls.
"Gentlemen, please," the barman said, with a nod of his head in Julie's direction.
They turned, gave her a smile, doffed their hats and. with a nod, they left the bar.
The barman offered Julie a free coffee, which she accepted with good grace, but she always paid for any meal she had in the pub, even when offered for free, she paid. She felt it would constitute a bribe to accept the free meal, but accepted the coffee in good grace.
After lunch, it was back to the office to file more papers, or to take a trip to a farm where sheep had been rustled, or a piece of machinery had been stolen and then to the office to file the report.
"If I were prone to swearing, the air would be blue in here, Sergeant. What is this?" Julie demanded of Sergeant Collins, newly promoted.
"The head office ?erm, the super and her cronies now want a list of crimes day by day, separated into each element and cross referenced by crime number," he told her.
"Sorry, they want me to spend my time listing each separate crime by what the crime was, when it happened and then list it again by the crime number? Do they not realise that it's creating double work for my overstretched officer? We are rural and do not have an army of officers to sit at desks writing all ***** day. They are expected to solve crimes, not write about them," Julie said, leaving a blank where she felt like swearing.
"It is to do with the computers, apparently they work better with the numbers, correlating the crimes, a tractor stolen from around here can then be linked to one stolen from Berkshire say, but the computer can't do that with the old method of listings, which they like and want to keep, so we now make a double report," he said.
"Like hell we will. Look here at the map. Four farms hit and they are beginning to make sense. Each one is an hour out of London. That leaves these two farms before the thieves have to travel further afield. Put surveillance on these two farms and increase patrols. I want my coppers where they can catch the criminals, not sat at desks," Julie said.
"Ma'am, I have to say it. You do realise that this came from the Super and it is not a suggestion, but a dictate," Collins said.
"I also realise she has nothing better to do than create work, when she gives me the staff to do the un-necessary work she is creating, then I will ensure it is done. Until then, I will follow Denis the Menace's idea and put a Beano down my knickers," Julie said, joking.
"Have you heard from Everet, Ma'am? She is sitting her Sergeants' exam today," Collins said.
"It's too early yet; you did know she was to sit it this afternoon and not this morning?" Julie asked.
"No, sorry, I didn't, I thought it was this morning. What if she passes? We won't not be allowed to have two sergeants in this station, will we?"
"No, I don't suppose we will, so one of you will have to transfer out, where do you fancy going?" Julie asked, with a wry smile on her face.
"Erm, isn't it last in, first out, Ma'am?" Collins asked.
"That is for me, to decide," Julie said.
"Are you being sexist, Ma'am?" Collins asked with a smile.
"First of all, she needs to pass the exam. Then there needs to be a position for her, or you, so I would not get too excited at this moment in time. I have known qualified Sergeants wait for months for a position to open up, so let's not get too far ahead of ourselves, OK?" Julie asked him, smiling.
"OK, Ma'am," he replied, "I have a gut feeling this farm will be targeted next, if they follow the sequence. Can I suggest I keep watch on the place tonight, Ma'am?" Collins asked.
"Yes, you may suggest it, well?" Julie asked.
"Sorry, Ma'am, I suggest that I set up surveillance on this farm because I believe it will be the next target," Collins said.
"Why didn't you just say that then? Do not ask if you can ask and then ask anyway. I want you at Low Valley Farm at twenty-two hundred hours, so go home and get some sleep.
"I agree with your suggestion that Hill Top Farm is more likely to be the next target so I will be there as well. Do not notify the farmer, this sort of thing can leave it open to a con. I do not want to be notified of a lost piece of machinery; I want us to see it go. Take an infra-red camera with you and snap to your heart's content, but do not interfere. Contact me by phone and then I will tell you what to do," Julie told him.
They both left the office and went home. Julie did manage to get some rest, as did Collins before they left for their respective farms for surveillance.
Julie managed to find a side lane in which to hide her car and then walked to a position to watch the access to the farm. It was late summer and she saw them bringing in the harvest as she hid carefully, settling in for the night.
If the criminals followed their usual pattern; then tonight was the night they would appear and this was the farm they would probably target, but they might not show, a chance Julie and Collins had to take.
Organised thieves would have a radio that listened in to the police radio, which was why Julie had told Collins to ring her mobile and why she left a message at the station desk to use her mobile if she was needed during the night.
Settled, Julie and Collins began the long hours of waiting, positioned early enough to avoid detection, yet not too early with un-necessary hours of waiting.
Julie smiled as she watched the last load of the day's harvest being brought in, followed by the stream of farm vehicles, tired and weary after a long day trying to get the harvest in and beat the forecast rain. No-one saw Julie or Collins, as they had both selected a good viewpoint. Hidden from the casual person by bushes and hedgerows, they began the long wait. Julie expected the criminals to arrive between one o'clock and two o'clock in the morning, when the farmer was sound asleep, worn out from his toils of the day.
Julie expected him to be in the deepest part of his sleep around one o'clock in the morning, which was she felt the best time for the thieves to do their dirty work.
She was disappointed, but not totally surprised that her farm was not the one to be robbed, but they did arrive as she expected at one fifteen in the morning and at the farm guarded by Collins.
Julie answered her phone to the news that Collins was watching them arrive and entering the barn, where the combine harvester was located. She knew a machine of that size would not fit in a covered wagon and they would need one to avoid detection. They waited an anxious three quarters of an hour while the thieves dismantled sections of the machine to make it fit inside and to load it. This gave Julie time to join Collins before the thieves left.
"Ma'am, they are loading a tractor as well and to avoid noise they have serious electric winches and are hauling the items into the trailer," Collins told her as she helped a farmer herd his cows into a different field after they had gone through his barbed wire fence and were blocking the road.
"Stirks, randy sods and no pun intended, bullish. Right through a new barbed wire fence, they ran," he said, as an apology.
"Can't stay, must hurry," Julie said and jumped into her car. The delay was not welcomed at all, it delayed her arriving at the farm, Collins was watching.
"Do not move, I am on my way, I am about two minutes away," Julie told him as she sped down the deserted country lanes to Collins.
Chapter 2 - The Price of Success
"Ma'am they are closing the wagon doors, but they are not taking the whole harvester, just the parts. This is robbery to order. I am going in," Collins said.
"And I am ordering you to wait," Julie said.
"I will just move and park my car across the gate, blocking them in, that delay should be enough for you to arrive," Collins said.
"Collins, wait, I am in the lane, wait!" Julie almost shouted down the phone.
"I am," he said as a loud bang rang out, followed by silence.
"Collins, Collins, Collins!" Julie shouted down the phone as she saw the thieves moving off in the direction she was travelling and away from her. They were in large vehicles and moving slowly, whereas she was in a car which made her faster, much faster.
She closed the gap rapidly and then became stuck behind them, unable to pass in the narrow country lanes.
Her time here had taught her the places certain things were possible and on this particular road there was a bridge. Not strong enough or wide enough for a heavy vehicle, they needed to ford the stream as the farmers did. As the wagon entered the stream, Julie hit the accelerator and flew onto the bridge. The car left the ground and landed on the far side, just ahead of the wagon, far enough for her to slam the brake on into a hand brake turn and jump out. She stood, gun in hand, on the far side of her car and pointed it at them.
She knew her steely blue eyes could not be seen showing the depth of hatred she felt towards them, or her commitment to stop them no matter the cost. The first shot rang out, killing the driver. She moved a fraction and took aim at the passenger. The wagon, now driverless, slowed, rolled into her car and stopped.
"I have no intention of being kind, you do as I say, or I will shoot," Julie said in a blunt, authoritative voice.
She watched as they began to scramble and then a gun appeared. She did not hesitate in shooting the man holding the gun. No second warning, that was not Julie's style; you did as told or accepted the consequences. The assailant's gun clattered to the floor and the men still inside began to leave the cab, their hands held high in surrender.
"Go around the back and open the door," Julie ordered them.
They began to move and she followed, holding the gun on them.
They opened the back doors and she told them to get inside, they did and she closed and locked the back door. She reversed the wagon, backing it up the stream, then got out of the cab and unhitched the trailer, leaving it in the stream, while she went back to the farm after calling the incident in.
One of the extra patrols she had ordered was on its way to the farm when she rang it in and they arrived within five minutes of her call.
They found her stood by the side of Collins' car.
"Ma'am, we were on our way here when the call came in," Officer Harris said.
"Down the road half a mile there's a wagon parked in the stream. Listen to me, do not, I repeat, do not open the back door for any reason. They can suffocate for all I care. Do not open the back door; just stay there until help arrives. They shot Collins and I want them charged with murder, so they stay exactly where I left them," Julie told them. There was sympathy in her voice for Collins, but they understood her meaning and order.
"Ma'am, how is Collins? Is it serious?" Harris asked.
"The black dot between his eyes is a sure sign that it is terminal. Keen to help arrest them, Collins did not follow orders. Do not make the same mistake. He was a good officer and I thought of him as a friend. He will be missed, now do as I said," Julie told them.
The officers left Julie and she went to the farmhouse to wake the farmer. He answered the door and Julie informed him of what had happened and apologised for the inconvenience he would now face.
The farmer's wife arrived at the door and offered Julie a cup of tea.
"That would be nice, thank you, it is going to be a long night," Julie said.
Slowly officers arrived at the farm and secured the scene, forensics began their work and when they were happy with what they needed, the bodies were removed.
Mid-morning the Super arrived on the scene. "Well, Chief Inspector, quite a mess, isn't it? Three dead, what happed did you run out of bullets?" she asked, shocked at the death toll.
"Ma'am, they shot Collins and then drove a wagon at me, using it as a weapon, so I shot the driver in self-defence. I wasn't happy they pointed a gun at me, so again, in self-defence, I shot the gunman. They knew I was an armed officer of the law, having told them earlier, apart from the fact that I was using the siren whilst following them. I did not stop with Collins, because I saw the black dot on his forehead.
"Now you may not know what that means, but I have seen it far too often not to know; he was dead and there's no coming back from that shot." Julie said in temper.
"I agree with what you are saying, not how you said it! Be careful, I will not be spoken to like that; you are on very thin ice, Chief Inspector. There will have to be an investigation and I will need your gun," the Super said, holding out her hand.
"Ma'am, with respect, you are an officer who has not been firearms trained, therefore I will hand my weapon in to a qualified officer, if you don't mind. It is not police issue, it is my own weapon.
"I am a licensed firearms officer and registered firearms collector, I am allowed to carry this weapon approved by MI 5. Brown. Put this into evidence, will you?" Julie said to an armed officer, handing over her gun. "I also respectfully request that Collins be put up for an award, because of his commitment to his job and his sacrifice," Julie added.
"Oh, interesting, is this the first time you have lost a colleague?" the Super asked.
"Of course not, I lost half of my platoon in Afghanistan, including two very close friends. Had Collins not acted as he did, then they would have got away, he delayed them just enough for me to be right on their tails and made it possible for me to arrest them, just to make sure it is clear as to what happened, Ma'am," Julie said forcefully.
"It is very clear Chief Inspector, and I suggest you go home and calm down before you exhaust my patience, and tolerance," the Super said.
"After I have spoken to Collins' wife, Ma'am, something I do not like to delay, bad news is better dealt with as soon as possible, so that healing can begin," Julie said.
"And do you think that in your current state of mind, you are the best person to deliver the news?" the Super asked.
"My state of mind has nothing to do with it. I am a professional and can answer questions other people are not able to. I will not suffer it; I will relieve my anger and frustrations later at home, not in front of anyone, because I am professional. I considered him not only my work colleague, but a friend. I can empathise, because I feel her pain, too. I am not the best person, I am the only person," Julie said and made to leave.
"My office tomorrow morning, ten o'clock, Chief Inspector," the Super said, as Julie left the scene.
The officers returned the trailer to the farmyard and unloaded it with the help of the farmer who set about rebuilding his machinery. He had lost the morning and early afternoon, but not the whole of the day.
Julie went to Collins' house and sat in the police car for a few minutes, bolstering her courage. She was afraid she might break down when she told Mrs Collins the devastating news.
She got out of the squad car and sent the driver away, deciding to walk home afterwards, and went to the front door. It was a long walk, weighed down by the message she had to convey. It was inevitable what was about to happen when she told Mrs Collins her husband was dead, killed in the line of duty. It was something she had done a few times before, unlike a death caused by an accident to someone unknown to her, where it was a message of sympathy, this type struck home. The loss of a colleague and a friend was the hardest to convey, yet because the feelings were shared, a mutual feeling of empathy was the result.
Julie stayed for an hour with Mrs Collins and then left for home.
She now had to bury her feelings and be subjective; she needed to prepare for the interview the following morning and she needed not an excuse, but reasons for what happened.
It would be easy to put the blame on Collins for not obeying an order, but Julie was sure there was more to it than that. For one thing guns had not been mentioned before and the robbers had been seen leaving the crime scene. Several farmers had fired at them. Perhaps that was why they were armed; it was common for a farmer to have a shot gun on the premises. This crime had been elevated by the use of guns; they were prepared to kill the farmer to get the machinery.
So, it was now armed robbery and murder, which the police had not been made aware of. Julie being a qualified firearms instructor and licensed to carry one as an armed officer usually had one with her. Collins was due to go on the course, but was not as yet registered and he did not have one.
If a situation required firearms support, then officers were drafted in from the nearest large town. Julie's force was not large enough to have its own tactical support section and considered too quiet, being rural, but it was something Julie wanted to address, after the case involving Sir Andrew Mac Adams. Julie felt that guns were far more prevalent in the country than the city, although a crime may not be by an armed thief. They were more likely to come in contact with a firearm than in a household in the city, hence the need for firearms trained officers.
Julie went into a solemn office the next morning; everyone down in the mouth about the death of Collins.
"Look, it has happened, we will miss Collins, but thieves do not take a day off and we have a job to do. As they say, 'get over it and get back to work.' I want an honour guard for the funeral to show them he was well respected and that we will miss him, but this will not stop us from doing our jobs.
"Sergeant, select six officers to walk beside the funeral car and they will also carry the coffin into the church. Apart from that it is business as usual, this is not a free pass for criminals," Julie said as the officers paraded.
Julie entered her office to see Everet, her eyes blood shot.
"I am promoting you temporarily as Sergeant until the appointment is confirmed. I want them interviewed, formally charged and every 'I' dotted and every 'T' crossed. If they get off on a technicality, your life will not be worth living," Julie told Everet, "This is just between us and never to be repeated. I told Collins to stay where he was and he disobeyed the order, trying and succeeding to delay them, but it cost him his life. If you ever disobey an order, you will think being a traffic warden is a promotion," Julie told her.
"I didn't know he disobeyed an order, Ma'am, does anyone?" Everet asked.
"I am betting not. We used our mobiles to communicate and no-one must know. I have put him up for a commendation, disobeying an order will go against him, so as I said, it is between us and must not leave this office," Julie said.
"But Ma'am, won't that go in your favour when they investigate what happened, the fact that he disobeyed a direct order?" Everet asked.
"Yes, it will, but then again; I did not order him to act, he did it courageously in the line of duty, without forethought for his own safety. That way we can honour him," Julie said.
"Yes, Ma'am, he was that type of guy, Ma'am, to act when required to do so in the line of duty; Ma'am," Everet said.
"Indeed, he was, thank you," Julie said and put her coat on ready to leave for headquarters.
At headquarters, after a short wait, Julie was told to enter and then she began to tell the Super the details of what had happened and their plan.
"So, Collins was not supposed to engage with the thieves, just watch and make notes, like the registration number of their wagon?" the Super asked.
"It was meant to be surveillance, but as I am sure you know that is not what happens in a lot of cases, as things change. I rely on my officer's intelligence to make decisions as things develop. Collins knew I was on my way, after having informed me of their arrival. They were about to make a move and he knew we wanted to apprehend them, so he used a delaying tactic, unaware that they were armed and that I had been delayed, by the herd of bulls, stirks, ma'am. The information that they may be armed had not filtered down to our station. Were you aware that the thieves were now armed?" Julie asked her.
"Be careful. Chief Inspector, that ice is very thin. As an ex-Met officer, you are used to thieves being armed, wouldn't it have been a good idea to have armed officers, on stand-by?" the Super asked.
"I was armed and Collins was supposed to have been on the course two weeks ago, but it was postponed until next week, which was why I raced from my surveillance position to be by his side, but it took too long, yet I was a lot quicker than having armed officers on stand-by. Had he attended the course as agreed, then he would have been armed. Do not blame me for head office incompetence," Julie said, allowing her temper to surface.
"It was a decision we took with good reason; we knew you were annoyed about it, you said so, but the officer from the other station took precedence," she told Julie.
"Water under the bridge as it were, Ma'am, had Collins been armed he would not have been able to get his gun out before they shot him. The way I see it is that they decided to leave. When Collins heard the engine start, he started his engine and they heard him as he moved to block the entrance. The gunman shot him, being aware he was there, he was ready, but the gunman was not aware that he was a police officer. Instead he assumed he was a farmer, say, guarding his property, because of the thefts. They may also have assumed that he would have his shotgun with him.
"As for me, there is no way they did not know I was an officer of the law in pursuit, blue lights flashing and my siren blaring away. They knew damn well who I was and still tried to run me over, justified at the very least. I would expect self-defence, a forty-ton wagon is one hell of a weapon, Ma'am.
"I am waiting for confirmation that the weapon found at the scene is the same one used to kill Collins, if not, then, someone else in the wagon had a gun, Ma'am," Julie said.
"Were your instructions to Detective Sergeant Collins sufficient? What were your instructions, or orders?" the Super asked Julie.
"I told him to observe and report, but I allowed him the tolerance to make decisions. He was astute enough to make decisions on his own behalf. He was there, I was not, so I could not make the decision for him, nor would I. I do not want puppets that react to their strings being pulled, I want proper police officers and I am lucky enough to have them. Collins was a very good police officer," Julie said forcefully.
"So, he was told to observe and report, yet we have no record of him reporting?" the Super asked.
"Thieves have equipment which is considered illegal, but being thieves, they do not take notice of the legalities and listen in to our radios. To avoid alerting them to our presence, we decided to use mobile phones for reporting. Collins rang me and said, "They are on the move; I am going too," and then I heard the bang. I had already left my position and was about one hundred yards from Collins' position when I heard the bang. I thanked God for the advanced training I had received by the army for protection duty.
"As soon as the wagon began to move to the right, I hit the accelerator and hit the hedge as I squeezed past it. I headed over the bridge, the car flew up over the brow and slammed down; I think it may need new suspension it did bottom out when I landed. I skidded to a halt, side on to the wagon, blocking the road.
"I had checked on Collins. You may not think it, but when you have seen it as often as I have, execution style, eyes closed, a pallid complexion, a black hole and a trickle of blood between the eyes, there is no doubt what I saw as I passed him. There was no need to stop, he was dead and the killer was getting away, so I didn't stop. I pursued them and caught them; that is my job, isn't it?" Julie asked, once again allowing her temper to surface.
"At what point did you tell them you were an armed officer of the law?" the Super asked.
"The flashing blue lights and siren informed them that I was an officer of the law. Before they ran me over, I shouted that I was armed and then fired; did I wait to be run over before I fired, giving them time to give up? No, I decided that my life was important, as was Collins' life and they knew that I was after them. They were lucky I had time to warn them that I was armed," Julie said bluntly.
"I do not believe you; I think that in the heat of the moment you killed the driver, fearing for your life, perhaps? Then again you are agile enough to have jumped clear, but they had killed Collins and that was why you fired. Rather than fearing for your life, you are far too experienced to act without knowing what you are doing.
"This is off the record, when the internal affairs interview you that will be on record. My report will show you as acting in accordance with guidelines.
"I am sorry for the loss of Detective Sergeant Collins and support your actions; unofficially, I applaud them. How on earth you could stand there with a forty-ton articulated wagon bearing down on you and calmly shoot the driver between the eyes before jumping to the side to avoid being run over amazes me and then to recover enough to shoot the gunman. Did he manage to get a shot off?" the Super asked Julie.
"No, Ma'am, it only takes one bullet to kill, I didn't allow him the time. Between us, Ma'am, as soon as I saw the gun, I fired. He knew I was armed, having shot the driver, there was no need to warn him and he knew I would fire," Julie said, relaxing a bit.
"I have no option but to suspend you pending the internal investigation into the shooting. I suggest you have your solicitor present; most of this has been off record, as I said. The interview with the officers investigating the shooting will not be easy, do not let your guard down," the Super told her.
Dismissed, Julie went home. She slammed her car keys down on the hall table and went into the kitchen where a slab of steak felt her anger as she diced it up. She sliced an onion and chopped carrots into a casserole dish; she added wine and seasoning and slapped it in the oven, then slamming the oven door shut.
Julie picked up the phone and rang without thinking about it.
"Julie, all well?" Dan asked.
"Like hell it is, I.ve been suspended, the b-b-b shot and killed Collins, so what was I supposed to do? Let him walk away, ask nicely for him to put his gun down; the one he was pointing at me? Like hell; I shot the b-b-b," Julie said.
"I see. It sounds as if you need some support. I am due a week's leave starting next week; would you like Alex and me to come down? You can take her shopping in that new centre they're advertising." Dan said.
"I appreciate your offer but no. By the way how do you know about the new centre? Manchester's a long way for the adverts to have reached you," said Julie.
"I placed an order with the local rag and get the weekly news. I suppose your exploits will be in this week's paper. You know how much Alex likes shopping and a new centre would interest her. I could well rest and pay, as usual," Dan said, as if disgruntled.
"Dan, if memory serves me correctly, Alex earns twice what you earn and she pays, not you. Interior design is very lucrative, so I understand," Julie said.
"Actually, far more here than in London, believe it or not. We will see you on Sunday," Dan said.
"I would love to see you both, but this I need to fight alone. It will be character building for me to use politics rather than my fists, it may help me to conform more," Julie said, laughing.
"Ha, you conform? Never! Keep me informed; I will expect a daily call from you," Dan said and they hung up.
Julie went into the garden and pulled some weeds and then had a shower. She took her now over cooked casserole out of the oven and sighed. 'It's never a good idea to cook when in a bad temper,' she thought.
She had prepared it too early and now it was over cooked, but she needed to take her anger out on someone or something. If she took it out on someone, she would in all probability kill them; the casserole was her best option.
She left for the pub and ordered a glass of white wine, Chardonnay, and sat in a corner watching the people as they lived their lives, enjoying a night out. It was a hobby she really liked, watching life pass by. Drunks, socialites, housewives, businessmen and women all gathered for a drink, chatting, laughing and arguing, rather debating, the colourful mix of society.
Julie liked to guess who or what they were, here it was not as good as London, there she seemed to know no-one and here she knew fifty to sixty percent of the people in the bar.
A man entered, dressed in a tweed jacket and slacks. His shirt was pink and he wore a cravat along with highly polished shoes and tartan socks. Julie looked again. His attire was abstract to say the least, some sort of artisan, perhaps? He did have the long hair associated with an arty farty or beatnik types. A traveller perhaps, but they did not usually have such highly polished shoes. He gave the impression of being well to do, but had an air of being impoverished, as if his clothes had been stolen from a washing line and did not match.
Julie got up and moved towards the bar, she needed to understand the man and to do that she needed to hear him speak, perhaps engage in conversation with him.
He was an anomaly, he did not fit in the pub, or society somehow.
"A pint of your finest amber nectar, my good man," he said in an aristocratic voice.
"Allow me. You are not from around here, are you?" Julie asked, offering to buy his beer.
"My good lady, indeed not, t'would be impolite of me to allow such a delightful young lady to purchase my beverage. May I have the honour to purchase another libation for your good self?" he asked.
A throwback from Victorian times, perhaps, he became more and more of a contradiction which intrigued Julie, so she allowed him to purchase a drink for her.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Julie and I am sat over there. Would you care to join me?" Julie asked him.
"It would be my honour to join such a delightful lady as your good self. I am Professor Eugene Algernon Blackthorn, at your service, my card, Madam," he said with a slight bow, handing her his card, another throwback from Victorian or Edwardian times.
Julie couldn't decide if he was a time traveller, or just nuts, but she was intrigued and took his card, smiling at him.
"I live in the town and know, by sight, most of the town's inhabitants and I am sure I have never seen you around here.
"Where have you come from? Are you here on holiday?" Julie asked.
"I do not hail from these parts; that is correct. I have travelled far this day and require libation to ease my tired and weary body. I must admit that being in the company of such a delightful creature as your good self makes the libation far more pleasant," he said, added a slight bow, and took a drink.
"You are very interesting, a Professor, you say, what brings you to these parts? Being an inspector, makes me nosy, DCI Ashton," Julie introduced herself to him.
"Music my dear, the noble art of intricate melodies, soothing but complex by nature," he said.
"I see, so you are a musician then, where is the gig?" Julie asked.
"My dear lady Inspector, do not be so crass and defamatory, I am surprised that an articulate person such as your good self decries the noble art with such crude terms as gig, it is a feast of melodious concoctions, delivered via an ensemble of virtuosos, such as myself," he said, as if aggrieved.
"My apologies, obviously it is not just a group doing a gig, but more of an orchestral rendition by superior musicians," Julie said, trying to appease the man.
"Indeed, it is, you are very astute, my dear," he said.
"Then I hate to burst your bubble, but my dad told me about a group in the nineteen sixties called "The Temperance Seven," led by a Professor, not a real professor, just an acting title, for entertainment. He liked their music and enjoyed their antics, so where and when?" Julie asked, smiling broadly.
"And there I was, thinking I was imbibing with a lady of distinction," he said, as if hurt.
"I can be, but after my day, I am very much down to earth," Julie said.
"A tiresome day, mayhap?" he asked.
"You could say that, so some light relief would definitely not go amiss, my dear, dear, Professor?" Julie said as a question, adding a smile for him.
"Then the morrow, at nineteen hundred hours, on the green at Upper Hampton and I will be delighted if you would deign to be my guest at our rendition," he said.
"Yes, the stage they were erecting, I wondered why. I will feast upon the libation of lyrical notes and phrases, thank you, Professor," Julie said and left before she burst out laughing.
It had been a very formal conversation, yet lighthearted, she had enjoyed the formality of the conversations of days gone by; it had been a relief for her from the hard facts of the last twenty-four hours.
She got into bed still smiling, being correct had made her think, filling her mind with what or how to say anything and pushing her suspension to the back of her mind.
The shrill tone of her phone woke her. "Sorry to disturb you, Ma'am, but there is a weird guy here who insists he spoke to you last night at the pub and will not speak to anyone but you. Apparently, a, I use his terminology, 'a crime of horrendous proportions has been perpetrated upon a dear, dear friend of my acquaintance.' That is what he said. Is he for real, Ma'am?" the desk Sergeant asked.
"I presume he is wearing a tweed Jacket, tartan socks, pink shirt and a cravat?" Julie asked.
"Yes, Ma'am," he replied.
"Ask Professor Eugene if he would do me the honour of partaking of a herbal libation in our rather sullied, refreshment area whilst I prepare myself to greet him more formally. Can you remember all that, or shall I repeat it whilst you write it down?" Julie asked him.
"Ma'am, what, can you repeat it? Why can't I just tell him to get a cup of tea and wait in the canteen?" he asked.
"Because I asked you to say it that way," Julie said and repeated it whilst he wrote it down.
She got dressed, made her way to the station and entered to comical and confused looks.
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