The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2415 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“Gimme my phone, you bloody bastard,” called Danni, I needed to talk to her about her language but now didn’t appear to be the best time. I took another step towards him and was aware of people standing to watch.

“Give her back her phone,” I said as menacingly as I could.

“Why, you gonna make me, darlin’?”

If he called me that again I was going to remove all his teeth, one at a time with a lump hammer.

As I stepped towards him again, his partner stepped out of the SUV brandishing the rifle, “Get in the car,” he said to friend, while threatening vaguely with the gun. His friend, still holding Danielle’s phone turned to get in the car and I hurled one of the bottles of water at the back of his head. Normally I couldn’t hit a cow’s arse with a shovel, but for once my aim was true and it hit him as he turned, bouncing off the side of his head.

He stepped back out of the car as I leapt at him catching him in the middle of his chest with my leading foot. His body actually lifted off the ground for a moment and he dropped Danni’s phone.

I heard the rifle bolt being pulled back and his friend now held the gun pointing in my direction. The one I’d kicked, stood up and began to come at me. His mate called him back and with some reluctance he complied but not before he spat a threat at me. Danni ran and picked up her phone and the car sped off just as police sirens were heard approaching.

We spent the afternoon at the police station being castigated for trying to intervene with little evidence. I pointed out the gun the second man held and that he’d loaded it, which I think made two offences.

“Three, if he’d discharged it, four if he’d shot you,” replied the detective inspector.

“So why aren’t you arresting them?” I asked angrily.

“Look Dr Watts, we know who they are and where they live. We’ll pick them up eventually.”

“You’ve got the film from the CCTV?”

“Yes, showing you were the aggressor.”

“Only after he’d shoved Danielle and taken her phone.”

“Okay, so there was some provocation.”

“The man with the gun, isn’t carrying one of those in a public place an offence?”

“I know my firearms law, Dr Watts.”

“They were poaching on a listed nature reserve.”

“We only have your word for it, I’m afraid.”

“I have photographs of the aftermath and their tyre tracks.”

“If you could submit them as evidence, that would be useful.”

“I’ll copy them to you if you give me an email address,” I offered.

“Sorry, they have to be originals.”

“I’m happy for you to copy them while I wait, but you’re not keeping the card.”

“I could charge you with withholding evidence about an alleged crime.”

“I’m not withholding it, I’m offering to share it with you, you’re the awkward one.” If I wasn’t intimidated by a bloke with a loaded rifle, I certainly wasn’t going to be worried by an overweight flatfoot.

After he huffed and puffed a bit longer he agreed to upload them on to a police computer. “You haven’t labelled any of them,” he complained.

“That’s why I wanted to send them to you,” you pillock—I didn’t add.

I identified what they were and where on the reserve, showing them a map of the place, which he had photocopied and we then marked on the plan. I also surrendered the cartridge cases we found and he agreed to have them checked for prints.

“Is the site clearly marked as a nature reserve?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, when we catch these guys, we’ll concentrate on the fracas at the petrol station, that’s the more serious crime; but we will investigate the poaching as well.”

“You mean you’ll drop those charges if they cooperate about the garage thing?”

“Not up to me, but they’ll face a prison sentence for waving a loaded gun about.”

“I might go for a private prosecution.”

“Feel free but you’re wasting your time.”

“Perhaps.”

As we left we bumped into Andy Bond. “Lady Cameron, to what do we owe this pleasure?” I heard the DI behind say, “Oh fu£$!” I’m listed as the director of the study site by my maiden name, so that was the one I offered. Some detective.

I called home to let them know we were all right and we then went to Gosport to collect the signs Delia had ordered. At a nearby hardware shop I bought a hammer, a pound of nails and some cable ties.

The rolls I’d dropped at the garage had been wrapped in plastic film so were still eatable, though we needed a new bottle of water. Not feeling too hungry, we returned to the reserve and I began putting up the signs, mostly on trees.

University of Portsmouth/High Street Bank plc.

Nature Reserve.

Hunting is not permitted in the environs of this reserve. Anyone found using a firearm, snare or any other form of trapping or hunting device will be prosecuted.

Removal of timber and wild flowers is prohibited.

With Danni’s help we had them all up in less than an hour and now I was feeling hungry. I suppose we had walked a few miles all in all. Then as we approached the car, there was a bang and a hole appeared in the sign we’d just erected.

“This is a nature reserve,” I shouted at the direction of the gunman, pushing Danni out of the way as I did so. “Call the police,” I hissed at him

“Too bad,” was the response. Another bang sounded and a bigger hole appeared in the notice.

“Stop your firing immediately,” I screamed at them.

“No can do.”

“There are people here,” I shouted as loudly as I could, but he just fired at the notice again

“Stop that now, there are children present.

Another bang and the hole got larger, “Mummy, get down,” urged Danni from behind the tree.

I stepped behind the tree as another bullet tore into the sign. “Have you called the police?” I asked quietly.

“I can’t get a signal. I’m so scared, Mummy.” She began to cry and I hugged her. I tried my phone and there was no signal either. All the same I sent a text to Simon telling him we were under fire at the nature reserve. I knew it would only happen when I got a signal but that might take a little while.

Another bang and some more bark flew off the tree above us, Danni flinched and I held her tightly. We had no weapons to fight back with except a pair of secateurs, a pen knife and a ball of string. Hardly a match for a hunting rifle with telescopic sights.