The Job 25

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CHAPTER 25
Another twenty minutes saw our prisoners separated and stuffed into the backs of a number of vehicles for the return to the nick, Chris long gone in the ambulance as a paramedic stayed with us to look after one of the five who had apparently met Elaine’s asp face-first.

She was a strange mixture of nerves and seething rage, and as we sat in the car I took the risk and squeezed her shoulder. She simply laid her hand on mine and squeezed back before taking her mobile out and once more switching it to speaker mode. As Blake finished calling out recovery for the other vehicles and the van, she rang Control.

“Hi Jan, Inspector Powell here. Can you call the duty Super out? I’ll need a word. And the on-call CID Inspector”

“Soon as I hang up, Ma’am. That boy going to be OK? We were getting a bit edge-of-seat here, innit”

“He should be, Jan. At least, well, he should be. We’ll be straight out, doors to kick, once this lot are in, but if you can detail someone to relieve the detail at the hospital?”

There was no other word for the sound from the radio operator but chortle.

“You won’t believe this, but we’ve got people in off their rest days wanting to help. They’re arguing over who gets to kick Bob’s door in. Hang on; got duty Super at the door. You hang up; he’ll ring you”

Blake pulled out to join the convoy, and her phone rang again.

“Elaine Powell”

“Bev Williams here, Inspector. I couldn’t stay away, I’m afraid. This operation has got the whole team, the whole force praying for a good result. Your young friend, Chris?”

“Chris O’Connor, sir”

“Yes. He has made a huge impression on everyone here. Add in Sergeant Gould’s involvement, and this case has become intensely personal for our little family. Now I believe you were after me for some reason”

“Aye, sir. It’s about family. You will be aware of my connections to two of the persons arrested”

“I am so far only aware of Hansen and Evans”

She paused, head turning to look at Blake and myself, before returning to the conversation. Something was clearly up.

“Dai Pritchard and Bob Evans were with them”

“Fuck! Sorry. Unprofessional. I follow your logic, but you weren’t actually involved with their arrests, not so?”

“There was another one there, boss. You will have heard about my sister”

“Your sister? The transsexual—oh, please. Not him?”

How the hell was her sister involved? My spine felt the chill arriving. Surely not?

“Indeed. Joe Evans. You can see my concerns, sir”

“Absolutely right. Jan tells me you have called out the duty CID man. Well done. You will remain on hand to brief and assist as necessary, but—did you carry out the formal part of the arrest yourself?”

“Yes sir”

“Then after the initial statements at Custody you remove yourself to your incident room. You brief the CID man, you make sure that the search teams are properly organised, you leave this case packaged for a handover, and you go home and stay there until recalled. Understood?”

Her head dropped.

“Yes sir”

“And Elaine? Brilliant work. I can think of no better words just now, but please take some time to thank your boys and girls before you go home”

“Thank you, sir”

Blake was calmness incarnate as he drove, and that extended to his voice.

“Inspector. Elaine. There are just the three of us here. Please talk to us”

She looked round once again, and I was shocked to see tears.

“Blake, butt, please leave it, just for now. Di knows the details, I’m pretty sure, but not now, aye? I’m going to have to leave the team, and that is a bit painful. What I’ll do… Look, get these bastards banged away, then debrief, aye? I’ll explain then”

He smiled, taking his eyes off the road just long enough for her to see it.

“You’ll never leave this team, ma’am, not really. Tissues in glove box”

They sat outside in their little cells or the back seats of marked cars until we could feed them past Custody, one by one, Elaine’s professionalism back in place along with savage delight in the arrests. I stood to one side as I actually had no prisoner, while Elaine gave the account of the arrest for each one. Hansen was first, and he was in a state of utter terror. One-word answers to the Custody Sergeant, shaking like a leaf. Bang as his cell door shut on him for the first of what I assumed would be a very large number of times.

Jamie Evans, he of the tattoos, was very different, as Barry brought him in, Bryn in close attendance.

“I want her done! Hit me in the fucking face, the bitch!”

Barry smiled, in an evil way, and as he spoke clearly in giving the shit his warning about swearing, section 5 and so on, I saw him twist the rigid handcuffs just so till Evans squealed and shut up.

Bob Evans was terse and careful, eyes down, but Pritchard was looking round the suite as if seeking an escape route. There was a moment when his eyes locked on mine, and as I smiled at him, one not involving any warmth, I saw a little flicker of recognition, so I gave one of those little bows of acknowledgement. His eyes widened as his memories clearly caught up.

Sleep on that one, you bastard. I realised I would have to do some stepping back of my own.

The last one was named as Joseph Evans, and I could see a slight resemblance to Bob in his face, or rather what was left of it. He bore the marks of either a very bad accident or a truly savage, enthusiastic and creative beating, one side of his face, his eyelid, drooping. Elaine’s manner changed once again, this time to brittle, bright and friendly, although I could see every tendon in her forearms standing out like a bundle of steel cables. The Custody Sergeant went through his routine preamble, but Evans wasn’t listening, eyes locked on Elaine.

“You mentioned your sister…”

Bright, brittle, utterly false. “Yes. Sarah. I believe you have met, but that’s not relevant just now”

“Oh shit!”

She quite deliberately stepped away from him, turning her back, and the smell hit me first, I saw a puddle spreading around his feet, and the darkness on the front of his trousers told me what my nose already had: Evans had pissed himself.

Elaine finished her account, detention was authorised, Evans was taken away and after a very quiet word with the Custody lad Elaine walked off, leaving a call over her shoulders of “Debrief, fifteen minutes, team room”

Not another glance at Joe Evans. I knew who he was by then, my mind doing its own ‘police, professional’ bit for once, and left a civvy worker to mop up Joe Evans’ leavings. I collared Blake, gathered our kit and we made our way to our own space, team room, operations room, whatever: our shelter from the shit we had just waded in. Ellen had the urn and kettle both going, plasters across her knuckles and a weary look in her eyes. I caught her looking all over the ‘kitchen’ table and realised she wasn’t seeing things clearly enough as the tension evaporated.

“Tea bags are here, love. It’s done, we’ve got the bastards, yeah? All of them!”

Another bloody colleague in tears. “Did you see what they did to Chris? Did you?”

“Yes, love. Tea, yeah? Medics have him, and we have the shits who did it, so breathe… sod it, come here”

That wasn’t the only mutual hug or mutual comfort given. As I held Candice in her turn, I felt a hand on my shoulder, and turned to find Sammy smiling at me.

“I was right about you, then? Bloody well done, all of you! Got a spare cup?”

Typical of his management skills, we were back to ‘police’ professional’ in a matter of minutes, if a bit red in the eyes. Soon we had all of the team together again, everything signed over to the relevant people as the vehicles were searched and section 18 authority given for a number of doors to be kicked in, those about to do the kicking given a briefing and sent on their way. Sammy sat quietly sipping his tea as the team worked in near silence to get our notes done. When I finished, I sat up with a groan, and Sammy called across.

“Anyone else finished?”

Candice stuck her hand up, and he smiled.

“Chip shop round the corner, my friends. Get some chips and that in? Cakes and biscuits? Going to be a long one”

Candice laughed, her mood lifting.

“That was Chris’ game! Ellen, you done? If I hit the chippy, you do the 7-11, get some of the usual crap? And we need milk”

Off they went, and eventually Elaine joined us again. Sammy called over from his comfortably relaxed position by the kettle, within easy reach of a refill. Not stupid, my old boss, not at all.

“Elaine? The Super gave me a very full briefing. You are absolutely right to be stepping away from this one. Any hint of bias would get the jury all sideways, perk up any bigots, innit”

“Aye, Sammy. Now, I’ll wait until we get any search results in, and then it’s hospital and home”

He sat up straighter.

“You get hurt?”

“No, Chris. He got a beating, went off in an ambulance”

“Ah. I’ve detailed some of your lot on a chip run, so settle down and we’ll get this signed over”

“Chip run? That was Chris’ game”

“So your people told me. Right…”

The evening developed as the searches were done, and reports came in steadily as we each fed Sammy our own parts in the events. As I gave him my own account, he sat up straight as something came over his radio earpiece, and he grinned.

“Mates! You’ll love this bit!”

We gathered round, and he shouted to Elaine where she was in her little ‘office’ making sure her own notes were up to speed, which turned out to be an apt metaphor.

“Mates, they’ve just put Hansen’s door in, and it was priceless. Got some assistance from your force, Elaine, and his other half threw a bloody teapot at the head of one of your girls”

Elaine sat up straighter. “Got our girl’s name, Sammy?”

“Not yet, Lainey. She missed, anyway, and that’s not the main thing. There was a box under the bed, and they’ve got deal bags, mini scales and a Quantity of White Powder, Your Honour”

Alun burst out laughing. “Nicked for possession with intent?”

A very broad grin and a wink were the only answers we needed, and Alun chuckled evilly.

“For once I am actually looking forward to an interview!”

Gradually, we all returned. SOCO were on the cars, uniform and other bods were sorting property from the houses, and I had managed to get outside some muffins and a steak pie as well as the chips, and about a gallon of tea. The decks were about as clear as they would get, so I called over to Sammy as he took the handover from Elaine.

“When do you want us to start the interviews, Sammy?”

“Tomorrow”

“What? Er, sorry. Why?”

He looked at Elaine for permission, and she shrugged. “I have to step down from this one, Sammy. You know why. Your call; but I am with Diane here. Why wait?”

“You ever watch that stupid film with that Aussie, Yank knob in it? ‘Freedom’ or whatever?”

Candice called out that she liked that film, and it was called Braveheart, and further that she wouldn’t climb over Mel Gibson to get to anyone in the room, and what the hell did that have to do with anything anyway? Sammy grinned, and it was unlike anything I had ever seen from him. There was utter contempt behind it; hatred, even.

“Mates, in that film he gets sliced and diced at the end, innit, and part of the game is what they call the ‘showing of the instruments’. They get all the slicey, pointy, hurty tools out, show them to him and tell him what they’re for. Lets the anticipation build before he gets hung, drawn and quartered”

I automatically came out with “Hanged” and Sammy dropped his smile.

“No. ‘Hanged’ is for people, ‘hung’ for objects. Look at it this way: we interview them straight away, while they’re all hyper and ready to fight, or we let them have their statutory rest period, sleeping like babies, not staying awake all night shitting themselves about what we might ask. So, Inspector Powell, in the nicest of ways, please piss off home, hug your missus, listen to some music, whatever. We’ll keep you up to speed, but we need you out of here before it gets seen to be smelly, OK?”

I beckoned Blake with my head, and he took the cue seamlessly. I followed him to the centre of the room, and as he held up his hands for silence, I began.

“Boys and girls!”

Elaine looked embarrassed, but the rest were laughing, so I clung to my courage and carried on.

“Boys and girls, this has been a real team effort. Some of us have come out of it with a few lumps, but nothing like poor Chris has ended up getting. So let’s give some credit where it’s due. There are five utter shits locked up downstairs, another in Swansea—Abertawe for those who speak in funny ways”

Keep your eyes away from Elaine, DC Owens.

“Someone came here, with Chris, and shook the tree. She let the light in and showed us what was going on and being bloody well ignored. If she hadn’t come along, we might be looking at one or more murders, so let’s show our gratitude. Inspector Powell!”

That brought exactly the reaction from the team I had hoped for and, in reality, expected, and as the shouts and banging on tables died away, our boss stood up.

“Boys and girls…”

She waited for the laughter to die down again before continuing.

“Some years ago, my little sister met a man she thought was a good one, but she was wrong. When he found out something personal about her, when she went to tell him that she was finished with him, he put her into hospital. That man had an uncle, and he was a policeman, and with another copper they went to see my Sarah and it was like an old-fashioned rape case”

Oh shit! I knew Pritchard and Bob Evans had been involved, but no! That little shit who had wet himself? No wonder she was getting away from the case. If Joe Evans was the one who had attacked her sister, she simply had to bail. I really didn’t see how she had held back from giving him a serious use of reasonable force in the arrest. She caught my stare, and quite deliberately looked away from me.

“All three of the bastards are now downstairs. While I am properly grateful to Providence that I was allowed to lock the fuckers up---sorry, Diane did say I talk funny, so pardon my French. While I am glad I got to nick them, it leaves me vulnerable to accusations, it leaves the case open to mudslinging by their defence. Samir here, Inspector Patel, is taking over lead. Everything is signed over, and I am stepping down. I won’t be out of touch, but I won’t be at work here. I’ll probably head back to Gaerfyrddin.

“It has been an honour and a pleasure to work with you all. You have made me proud. This job is about protecting our people, and every one of you has gone above and beyond. Thank you all. If any of you are ever down west, you WILL stop by, aye? AYE?”

We all shouted that word back, and she bowed her head.

“Now, I am off home, as Sammy has commanded, to see the missus and relax, but first I want to stop by and see how Chris is!”

My big friend laughed out loud, nudging me, then pointing past Elaine to the door, where a wheelchair was being pushed in by a green-uniformed paramedic, Chris slumped a little to one side as he was brought back to us. He did his best to strike as arch a pose as possible, but he was clearly in considerable pain, although he managed to give us a twisted smile.

“Needed some photos taken for the file. Couple of bites, my darlings, and two cracked ribs, and they want me back in for concussion watch, but, here I am. Typical! How can you eat chips without bread and butter? I go away for five minutes and the whole place goes to ratshit!”

Elaine stepped over to him and gently, so gently, kissed him on the cheek, before walking out of the door and out of our team. She took with her one of the tissues Candice was handing round, as I busied myself making a cuppa for the goat we hadn’t arrived too late for.

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Comments

It's Midnight, My Time

joannebarbarella's picture

So you posted just in time to stop me from going to bed without reading this. Of course, once it was on screen I couldn't leave it without reading and commenting anyway.

Another superbly written chapter and even though it could have been anti-climactic after the success of the bust, it wasn't. Loved it!

above and beyond, indeed.

"This job is about protecting our people, and every one of you has gone above and beyond."

fantastic.

DogSig.png

Brilliant story Steph!

I'm not sure if it's finished yet but whatever the outcome, this was an excellent read.

Thanks again for all the pleasure you have brought to me and indeed others judging by the comments.

Beverly xx

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Not finished

Diane was such an enthralling character to write from Elaine's point of view that, as with Elaine herself, I simply had to give her some room to breathe.

No secret here, but the theme, like so much of my stuff, is about ripples. People who get hurt aren't the only ones--it affects their loved ones, friends, family. Diane has been pushing hard to get the shits who gave her the second rape, in her hospital bed, and now, well, they are toast. What to do when your reason for living has gone?