This is the first chapter of my book. It is hopefully a short introduction to an hillarious caper.
I know its long and few will read it, but if anyone has the time to look over it and give me a few pointers I would be grateful as I have reached the point of being unable to spot mustakes etc after having been looking at it for so long. I have four other chapters near completeion so if there is a basic flaw I would grateful if someone can spot it before I spend all next week tidying the next four chapters up.
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Under normal circumstances Superintendent Derek Mason was a man who could be relied upon to rapidly assess any given situation in a rational and well thought out manner. However in the two weeks since he had taken charge of his new division he suspected that his thought process was being steadily eroded by the complete and utter nonsense that seemed to make up 99% of the divisions day to day functions.
To be fair when he had originally been offered the job by the Chief Constable, there had been an almost candid moment when the division had been described as being both 'unique ' and a 'challenge'. Normally the use of one of those words alone was suspect, but using both in one sentence was enough to send the hairs on the back of his neck straight through his starched collar. However as reality often bites hard and given his age, the cuts at his rank and with dwindling opportunities in the private sector, he had reluctantly accepted what he already knew to be a poison chalice.
Dumped onto the perimeters of its now relatively well run counterparts Division D had been made up from the areas which had been causing the bulk of problems within the other divisions. Geopolitically no other force area in the country could boast such diversity in terrain, social structure, functionality or ethnic and social diversity. In fact at its planning stage it had been described privately by the Deputy Chief Constable as being a sociologists dream and a policeman's nightmare.
The division itself consited of four sectors:
The first was Dashwood, a housing estate that had gained notoriety after it was found to have a 78% unemployment rate alongside a 23% literacy rate. This statistic had led a government minister to refer to the residents 'idle bloody idiots' A statement he later detracted after three days of rioting in which the residents had displayed that they were anything but idle. The consequences of the riot was the it left the estate in even more devastated than it already had been, which was no mean feat.
Built in the1973 seemingly along the lines of a concrete labyrinth, the estate housed 1034 families of which 932 were classed as being 'problematic' whilst the rest teetered on the brink of the same catchment. For their part the estates two schools had in the last three years undertaken massive steps to redress the horrendous literacy levels and in the main it had been a success. Sadly however they had achieved their literacy target by dipping into the budget from the pupil's behavioural program. As such the only thing to show for over a million pounds of funding was a noticeable increase in legible graffiti.
The second component of the division was its 'Rural' area, a loose term for the several large farms and vegetable processing plants that surrounded the Dashwood housing estate. Whilst these farms were thriving enterprises in their own right, they had little interaction with locals and instead opted to employ gang masters too ship in workers many of whom weren't sure what country they were in, never mind its employment laws or wage structures
Despite their zeal in taking itinerant workers off the streets of London the gangmasters efficiency did not appear to extend to returning them from whence they came. As a result there had been numerous incidents of people left roaming the area looking for food, shelter and work. In one case a man had found all three after displaying a remarkable prowess with an extremely large knife. His skill was such that it had secured him a mattress in a room above a kebab shop, a less than steady wage and the opportunity to display his mastery of knives to drunken punters. Sadly his new life was shattered after young army corporal seconded to the 'UN War Crimes Unit' who was home on leave, had instantly recognised him as being 'The Beast Of Brzdlosky' And despite the pleas of the kebab shop owner who stated he was the hardest working member of staff that he had ever employed, he was deported to the Hague to stand trial for his part in the murder of 674 Iztketi's.
Aside from the farm lands and processing sheds the rest of the 'Rural' area was taken up by a manor house that was set in very large and very private grounds. Behind its walls lived an elderly aristocrat who in his own words 'had little time, for little people' while his approach toward the problem of poachers stopped and started with the phrase 'Justifiable Homicide' There was also a wayward son on the premises who fluctuated from throwing wild parties to leading a weekly hunt that had eradicated every fox within a day's ride and was now suspected of chasing cats.
The third part of the division was that town centre which had been decimated by the arrival of two 24 hour Superstores situated either end of the ring road. The once bustling centre now comprised of ' Pound Shops', Charity Shops, Bookmakers, Tanning Salons, Loan Outlets, Accident Solicitors and to the distain of many an extremely 'vibrant' night club with subsequent takeaway outlets.
The town displayed the usual problems, from petty theft to low quality busking and counterfeit goods being sold from bin bags. However in a bid to boost its coffers the council had now began to enforce extremely rigorous car clamping alongside a less than rigorous amount of signage to indicate the fact. It had also been convinced to use a company staffed in the main by ex squaddies who worked undercover, then menacingly collected on the spot fines from litter bugs and startled dog owners. As such part from the dismal goods on offer, the town also seethed with the perceived injustice felt by the people whose day to day activities included throwing waste over their shoulders whilst letting their dogs foul at will.
Last but not least was the 'Ring Road Region' normally a road with this function would fall under the remit of the Traffic Division, however due to it hosting the second largest Gypsy camp site in Western Europe, it figured significantly in its demands on the divisions manpower, resources and above all patience.
The camp had started off life in a relatively quiet fashion, at first a few caravans had appeared as the ring road was under construction leaving the locals to presume that they belonged to the contractors. However on the day that the first slip road was due to be opened a large disturbance had broken out in the now sizeable camp. The mayor and local dignitaries assembled had expressed their distaste at the rumpus to the contractor, whose reply rather succinctly indicated that he was as baffled as they were.
"What the f**k are you lot looking at me for? I've got no f**king idea who they are?"
It was at this point that it became apparent to all assembled that they now had a gypsy issue on top of everything else.
As for the division as a force the picture was no better. Apart from two experienced sergeants and his inspector, the uniformed branch was made up of raw recruits and those heading toward retirement. As for the CID, that consisted of a detective constable straight out of university, his overweight and out of condition detective sergeant who was awaiting the outcome of several inquiries into his behaviour whilst serving with the Met in the late 80's and a Detective Inspector who only came into the station to drop off his sick notes.
So despite already having his patience taken to their absolute limits and having not slept properly for two weeks thanks to a reoccurring nightmare featuring Gypsies and rioters on horseback chasing Latvian farmers in red coats. The superintendent was now sat at his desk at 6am on a Bank Holiday Monday in a station that was surrounded by the media asking questions on a subject he had very little information about and the bits he did know about indicated clearly that it was his head on the chopping block.
Despite everything Superintendent Mason managed once more to clear his head of the nonsense and give great thought to his immediate predicament. He reverted to his training; he created an overview as well as looking at it from a micro management stance. He then computed that the incident in question had already occurred and its outcome could not be altered as the entire incident had been recorded on several mobile phones and then placed onto various internet sites.
As such to his mind only one conclusion existed
"Well that's us f**ked!
Inspector Clive Styles who as second in command was also liable for blame had no intention of falling on his sword even if he had one.
"We need to move fast and own the story!"
His boss was not impressed
"Own the story! We'll be lucky if they let us own our f**king pensions. The clips already had 12,000 hits on You Tube alone and now the media have got the station surrounded! If you're as media savvy as you claim you are, then your time would be better spent drafting out our letters of resignation!"
However the last thing on Inspector Clive Styles mind was resigning.
"It's hardly our fault sir; it's not like we could have factored it in beforehand. Besides, no one takes ALL the blame these days! If they started doing that there wouldn't be an officer above the rank of sergeant left on the force!"
Despite the fighting stance of his inspector, Derek Mason was downbeat
"No this one's on our toes. There's no way HQ will let us deflect it upward toward them and we all know that blaming those under you is the same as admitting it's your fault. So whatever way you look at it we're out!"
Clive Styles was alarmed at the lack of spine being shown by his boss, but he pressed on and urged action
"We can do it; we just have to act quickly!"
Sadly his urgency was lost on his superior whose shoulders were now visibly sinking as he replied.
"It's a waste of time Clive, you've seen the footage! It's checkmate in three moves"
Clive Styles didn't play chess; he was more of a 'No Limit Texas Hold Em Poker' player and was in no mood for defeatist attitudes
"Let's at least get Pallister in and get the full story sir, you never know there may be a chance we could at least salvage something"
Slumped in his chair Derek Mason somehow managed to summon the strength to speak into the intercom on his desk
"Paula would you ask Sergeant Pallister to come in please"
Sergeant Nobby Pallister entered the office with the air of a man expecting to face the brunt of a buck passing exercise. He'd been on the force long enough to know that the brass never take the blame. He was also well aware that sergeants in particular were open to very rash claims of incompetence. So having acknowledged his superiors in the correct fashion, he decided the best course of action was to simply answer questions and not raise them.
"You wanted to see me sir?"
Having been in danger of lapsing into a physical depression Derek Mason's demeanour was instantly revitalised by his sergeant's clearly guarded approach.
"Don't try looking so f**king puzzled Pallister!"
Inspector Styles acted quickly in order to calm the situation
"Pallister, could you just give us the detail as to what actually happened last night?"
Faced with two desperate looking senior officers, the sergeant went into full defensive mode
"Would this be relation to the incident with the bear sir?"
Clive Styles was now himself in no mood to pussy foot about.
"Pallister this station is surrounded by the media and they want answers, which I don't have. I also don't have the time to listen to your brain ticking over before you reply to every bloody sentence. So let's stop f**king around shall we? You know it's about the Bear, if it helps this is not an attempt to blame you or anyone under you, it's just a rapid appraisal to see if we can spin the story and save OUR jobs, not yours! As things stand this one starts and stops in this office"
Nobby Pallister saw which way the wind was blowing and decided to be as candid as possible without leaving them room to blame him should the wind suddenly change back in his direction.
"Well sir the first thing I knew about it was when it was called in on the radio by PC Rodgers. He reported a bear was running amok outside the Dover Street Mc Donald's."
Clive Styles pressed for a more detailed account
"What time was this?"
The sergeant decided to play it straight.
"2 am sir, I was already on en route to the town centre in a patrol car to oversee the clubs as they started closing, so I was on site within minutes."
The superintend was keen to get to the nub of the caper
"Was the bear running amok?"
The sergeant decided to refer to his notebook in the standard fallback position one used when being cross examined.
"As I arrived on the scene I noted that a large brown bear was attempting to enter the hatch of a burger van situated on Stone Street."
Inspector Styles knew enough about standard tactics and switched his approach
"Pallister never mind the note book trick we need to know what really happened and what action you took. This is off the record; you say you got there and the bear was trying to get into the burger van, what did you do then?
The sergeant visibly relaxed as he opened up
"Initially I tried to have a word with the owner of the bear to see if he could control the thing, Rodgers had him cuffed in the doorway of Thorntons sir"
The Inspector was curious
"Was he of any help?"
The Sergeant could offer little solace.
"A waste of time sir, he was blind drunk, but even if he'd been sober it would have been useless, he can't speak a word of English."
It was now the Superintendents turn to display his curiosity
"Then how the hell did Rodgers know that he was the bear's owner?"
The sergeant's reply was dead pan.
"He was wearing the same bowler hat, waistcoat and dickey bow as the bear sir and he had an accordion. From what I can gather he plays the tunes and the bear normally dances for money."
The sergeant's reply was enough for the Inspector to switch from curiosity to incredulity
"Normally? Are you telling us that this is a regular occurrence?"
The sergeant quickly dismissed that notion
"No sir, according to Tony Chan from 'Wok around the clock' the man and the bear just turned up in some sort of van like contraption about 8 o'clock last night, then they set up their show on the green opposite his takeaway."
Clive Styles knew that that the sergeant had spent at least three years in traffic so he was surprised by his description of the van
"What do you mean some sort of contraption?"
The sergeant shrugged his shoulders as he replied.
"I've never seen anything like it sir, the things bright yellow and the sides have got a bears painted on it. I've had it towed in so the lads in the garage could have a look at it, but they're not sure yet"
Inspector Styles needed more
"Is the thing British, foreign?"
Both his superiors could see that Sergeant Pallister was genuinely puzzled.
"Hard to say sir, I presume it's foreign."
Superintendents Mason's logical brain kicked in
"What do you mean you 'presume'? For god's sake didn't t you cover the basics? What details have come back from its registration on the PNC? What's the tax disc saying? Chassis number? Is it a right or left hand drive? The basics man the basics."
The Sergeants reply was of no real help.
"That's just it sir it hasn't got registration plates or a tax disc and the steering wheel is sort of situated in the middle? As for a chassis number I'd be surprised if it had one as the thing looks home made. The garage lads reckon it runs on a mixture paraffin and agricultural diesel, they seemed surprised it hadn't already turned into a fireball!"
Derek Mason's curiosity changed back to dire gloom
"Dear god"
Clive Styles took over the questions
"Pallister, have you any idea yourself where and when this van came from?"
The sergeant shook his head as he replied.
"It's the oddest thing I ever seen sir, I checked the back of it and found a mattress that they must sleep on. There were also some empty bottles of Duty Free Vodka in carrier bag that still had the receipt inside, that was dated for yesterday in Belgium. So I can only presume they were on the continent yesterday and must have come over on the ferry late afternoon."
Superintendent Mason sounded weary
"So you reckon this man drove over yesterday do you?"
The sergeant was genuinely puzzled.
"Hard to say sir, the whole thing is quite odd"
Clive Styles tried to get a sense of his Sergeants continued puzzlement
You keep saying odd, but odd in what way Pallister?"
The sergeant decided to be blunt.
"Well apart from the steering wheel being central, the seat still looked out of place so I asked Terry Jarvis from crime scenes to give it the quick once over."
Clive Styles was happy to hear that that someone other than his seemingly puzzled sergeant had been given the opportunity to offer a professional appraisal
"And what was his opinion?"
Pallister's reply was not what anyone wanted to hear..
"That's the thing sir, he was surprised himself at just how far back the seat and gear stick were situated. So he took a few samples from the upholstery and the gear stick and he seems to think that there is the strong possibility that the bear is the driver!"
On hearing this Superintendent Mason had leapt to his feet with a burst of energy that indicated his depression had lifted only to be replaced with blind panic
"Dear god!"
Clive Styles did well to conceal the fact that his stomach had just turned at least ten times in a second. He decided not to dwell on the possibility that a drunken bear had been driving around the town. Instead he opted to change the direction of his questions in a bid to get hold of something he could spin.
"Pallister getting back to the incident, you say you had the owner in custody and the bear was halfway into a burger van."
Pallister dropped his guarded approach and decided to say it like it was..
"Yes sir, if the truth be told I was hoping that the bear might stay inside and eat the contents then perhaps nod off ,that way we could have towed the whole thing to the Safari Park."
Despite already knowing the answer the superintendent raised the question
"But it never?"
Pallister's animated responses indicated to them that he had recently been exposed to a truly traumatic event.
"No sir, quite the opposite to be honest. The thing got hold of a large plastic bottle of mustard and it bit into it. Then it jerked back in shock and must have sat on the hot griddle, after that it went completely berserk it smashed the burger van to pieces!"
Superintendent Mason vainly hoped that despite facing a rampaging bear, his sergeant had managed to maintain the basic protocols when deploying armed officers
"So that's when you gave the order to shoot it?"
Pallister was now so animated his account was becoming almost a reconstruction.
"Not at first sir, I had the armed response team deployed but the bear was running all over the place and as the town centre was packed with revellers most of whom were drunk, I couldn't safely give the order to shoot at that juncture."
The Superintendent was appalled at hearing this
"You mean you never cleared the area of gawkers, that's standard procedure man!"
But the sergeant was in full flow.
"With respect sir I had neither the time nor the resources! I was already three officers down due to the flu so I was only operating with two experienced officers and four relatively new PCSO's. And one of those was being sick in his helmet after eating a kebab. So if I'd given the order to disperse the crowd that in itself could have started a riot, which I would have been in no position to contain! So I just put up a basic cordon."
Derek Mason was clearly not impressed
"Why the sudden concerns for public order Pallister? We all know that this place goes off like a f**king two bob rocket every other day!"
Clive Styles stepped in and took over the questions as his boss alternated between mumbling and swearing. .
"What did you do then?"
Pallister was happy to explain his actions
"At first the bear looked like it was going into Churchill Gardens, so I ordered the armed response team to try and get ahead of it and clear the place of any drunks etc. I was hoping we could contain it in the gardens by locking both the gates once it was in there."
Superintendent Derek Mason stooped mumbling and looked up as he spoke
"Did it enter the gardens?"
Pallister's reply helped nobody.
"It looked like it was going to but then some idiot threw a beer bottle at its head so it turned and started running toward the crowd, that's when I gave the order to fire."
Superintendent Mason held up a piece of paper as he spoke
"According to their inventory the armed response unit put 74 bullets into the thing?
For his part the sergeant was not unduly worried by this information.
"That's correct; I had been advised that a single shot would only enrage it further. Apparently a bear, especially a drunken one can withstand a hell of a lot of firepower sir."
Derek Mason saw the first glimmer of hope
"So you were advised to use rapid fire, who advised you was it the safari park?"
Sergeant Pallisters new found confidence in his actions dropped a tad as he replied to the question.
"I never had the time sir, the brother in law was in town on a works night out he advised me."
Clive Styles had his fingers crossed as he replied
"Is your brother in law a vet or something?"
Sergeant Pallister looked the floor as he answered.
"No sir he's a plumber"
Derek Mason was back with a vengeance
"A f**king plumber!"
For his part Sergeant Pallister went straight onto the defensive.
"Yes sir, but he watches all the animal shows on Discovery Channels and he goes on holiday to Centre Parcs every...."
But the Superintendent was now in full flow
"You took the advice to use machine guns in a packed town centre from a f**king plumber?"
The sergeant attempted to stand his ground.
"I would have ordered the use of machine guns anyway sir! The thing was at least seven foot high and must weigh over a ton I don't think a single shot would have done the job."
But the superintendent was in no mood.
"So you and this naturalist stroke plumber decided it was best to do the bear Chicago Style did you?!"
Pallister continued to stand his ground.
"I've never been trained in facing a berserk bear in a street full of drunken people Sir! I had a thirty second window to act and I did so!
Clive Styles stepped in once more in a bid to calm the situation down
"Pallister no one would expect you to be conversant with the handling of wild bears, were not in the mounties."
Derek Mason mumbled his response
"I wish I f**king was"
Clive Styles was now desperate to find anything to cling onto
"So what happened then?"
Sergeant Pallister simply said it as it was.
"The armed response team gave controlled rapid fire as ordered sir"
Derek Mason came crashing back into the affray
"Controlled rapid fire? Who are you kidding? I've seen the video on You Tube Pallister, those two clowns opened up like Bonny and Clyde; that bear went straight through Waterstones front window."
But the sergeant would not budge from his stance.
"With respect sir Bob Turner and Liz Gordon are highly trained officers; they did as ordered no more. You have to understand we were all doing our best under difficult circumstances and it was just unfortunate that events unfolded outside Waterstones"
Derek Mason was less than impressed
"Oh I suppose you were hoping to shoot it while it was inside the shop engrossed in a f**king book!"
The sergeant was not best pleased with the direction the conversation was going and decided to return to 'Copper Mode'
"Sir I did my duty as I saw fit and within the remit.......
Clive Styles cut him short before he got into reciting the Queens Rules & Regulations
"Pallister I'll say it once more unequivocally, we do not hold you responsible in any way! I'm sure the Super will concur with me on that"
Derek Mason was genuinely apologetic when he spoke
"I'm sorry Pallister, I know it's not your fault. I suppose it was just coppers luck that the bear turned up on your shift. Write it up man and go home and get some kip then perhaps you can try and enjoy what's left of the Bank Holiday. Just don't say a word to the press outside"
As the sergeant was clearly relived to be getting off any potential hooks his reply was almost informal.
"Thank you sirs, shall I put the report in the main log or the 'Rural' book?"
Clive Styles seemed puzzled
"What's the rural book?"
Pallister remained nonchalant
"The Rural book's where we log all animal destructions within the division sir."
This information was obviously news to the two senior men and it was Clive Styles who broached the subject
"We kill animals? I thought we passed them over to the RSPCA?"
Pallister tried to suppress a giggle.
"That's stray pet's sir, we don't kill pet's sir."
Derek Mason was clearly relived
"Thank God for small mercies I suppose"
The now relaxed sergeant was on what he thought was firm ground.
"No sirs, the only thing we destroy are pests and the odd mad dog or rogue bull."
Derek Mason was not as sure as his sergeant
"Pests? We're not a pest control service Inspector!"
Pallister was happy to expand.
"We sometimes have to be sir. For instance last week we thought we had rats eating through the wires of the speed cameras on the ring road. So I had the lads put some rat poison down, that did the trick."
Despite his woes Derek Mason's flair for manpower logistics automatically kicked in
"I would have thought your time could be better spent than writing down in books how many rats we've killed sergeant."
The sergeant quickly corrected his superintendent.
"That's just it sir it wasn't rats, it was Meerkats, they must have escaped from the Safari Park and decide to set up shop near the A road."
Both the senior officers went ashen at this news but it was the superintendent who got in first
"We've killed Meerkats!"
Clive Styles tried to grasp just how bad the situation was.
"How many?"
Despite himself the sergeant failed to realise the implications.
"I were thirty adults and twenty little tiny things sir"
Superintendent Derek Mason sank into his chair and clutched his face as he poke through his hands
"Dear God in heaven we've took a clan of Meeerkats out!"
Clive Styles recovered his wits and brought the conversation to a close, as he did so he did well to hide the rising alarm he was feeling
"Pallister you've been up all night, you can write the report out when you come back on duty, I'm sure you'd be better off getting home. On your way out would you ask Paula to bring this Rural Book in so we can take a peek at it please? Oh and as the super has already said not a word to the media if they approach you"
Pallister was clearly happy at being able to extract himself intact.
"Certainly sir and thank you for being so understanding."
As the sergeant closed the door on his way out Derek Mason became instantly animated
"Meerkats we've killed Meerkats! Have you any idea how bad that is? Machine gunning a f**king dancing bear in a bowler hat's one thing, but wiping out a fledgling troop of bloody Meerkats, no one's coming back from that!"
Clive Styles could only concur
"It's a game changer I'll say that"
Derek Mason was more than happy to expand on the enormity
"F**king game changer! Who are you the king of the understatement? Have you any idea what's going to happen to us when that gets out? I worked on a case once where some idiot put his ex girlfriend's cat in a box and posted it back to her. Lucky enough the cat survived the ordeal, but that was ten years ago and the silly sod still has to pick his mail up with oven mitts.
There was an enforced respite as the superintendent's secretary brought in the now infamous 'Rural' book
"Sergeant Pallister said you wanted to see the Rural Book sir?"
The superintendent did his best not to snatch the book from her grasp as he thanked her
"Paula would you see that we continued not to be disturbed please"
His secretary didn't look at all hopeful.
"I will sir, you've had an awful lot of calls from the media about the bear sir and a Mr Chris Harris has called three times he said it's very urgent and wants you to contact him before you hold any press conference."
On hearing this news Clive Styles ears pricked and his nostrils flared
"Thank you Paula, could you let the media know we'll be holding that Press Conference as soon as is possible and inform Mr Harris that we'll contact prior to it."
As soon as Paula had left the office and closed the door .Derek Mason looked at his second in command in genuine and utter disbelief as he spoke
"A press conference are you insane? We're up to our neck with a ledger full of murdered animals not to mention the corpse of a giant bear in the garage area and a f**kwit dressed like Pinocchio who can't speak a word of English in the cells! And who the hell is this Harris?"
Despite everything Clive Styles looked happy
"Cunning Chris Harris is the Home Secretaries right hand man, we were at Uni together. He must have recognised a potential banana skin and wants to set things right before you talk to the media."
This information only served to increase Derek Masons sense of impending doom
"Well if the Home Office is already on it I'm a dead man walking! Why doesn't he go through normal channels and for that matter how the hell would he know that I'd be holding a press conference?"
Clive Styles was positively upbeat
"Firstly the Chief Constable, his Deputy and the Area Commander are away for the Bank holiday; secondly Chris Harris knows I'm with you so he will expect a damage limitation exercise. He probably just wants to make sure nothing is deflected towards his man."
Derek Mason was clearly puzzled
"How on earth could we do that?"
Clive Styles attempted to join the dots for his boss
"'Challenged & Checked!!"
This did not help the superintendent
"What the hell does that mean?"
Clive Styles was happyt to expand
"It's the Home Secretaries new policy of ensuring that every single person racking up at any of our borders is challenged to ensure they have the right to enter and checked to ensure that they are who they say they are. No one goes through on the nod anymore; every person has to be signed in electronically. He was on Newsnight last Monday talking it up."
Derek Mason had still not made the leap, for despite all his tactical abilities his inability to comprehend the politics of modern day policing was staggering
"I saw that, they were saying it could put two hours on the arrival procedure"
Luckily for them Clive Styles grasp of the media was bang on the money
"He's knows it's not popular, but he had to do something after that young Venezuelan violin prodigy the Home Office themselves sponsored to come over and play at the Last Night of Proms ended up taking the woodwind section hostage half way through a rehearsal of Jerusalem after she was unmasked as a 38 year old transsexual already wanted for murder."
Despite his underlings increasing optimism Derek Mason was still oblivious to the implication
"And this helps us how?"
Clive Styles laboured in a manner that just stopped short of him taking his socks off and explaining it through puppetry.
"Because despite his much publicised 'Challenged & Checked' campaign being less than a week old, we have in our cells a man who has waltzed drunkenly through customs control without the benefit of a passport in what can only be described as a highly decorated paraffin heater on wheels that was being driven by a drunken bear in a bowler hat! I somehow don't think that they were either 'Challenged or Checked' do you?"
The penny dropped for Derek Mason
"He's as worried as we are"
The inspector rammed home the now upward trend of their situation
"More, much more I can assure you. This is a resigning matter for his boss and it's the end of him as a guru if this gets out"
The superintendent's fledgling sense of salvation lasted only an instant
"That's all very well but he doesn't know we're up to our necks in dead Meerkats yet,does he?"
Clive Styles was in no mood for negativity
"Sod them! This is our blame free ticket, out of here!
The superintendent's reply was sullen
"You mean I'll still lose my division?"
Clive Styles clearly happy to be well rid of the millstone
"This division's a joke we both know that! The Chief Constable done us like kippers with this place"
Superintendent Mason's emotions were now almost drained to the core, but he managed to at least give thought to his career, if he still had one.
"Losing a division's going to look bad on my record"
Clive Styles gave a realistic appraisal
"If we stay here any longer the only record we'll end up having is a criminal one! This place is a time bomb, using this situation to get us out now is the best option"
But his boss's sense of loss prevailed
"Despite everything I had plans for this division, with the right support I could have turned this place around."
Clive Styles was not a man prone to day dreaming
"To turn this place around we'd need the army and possibly the RAF not to mention the immediate suspension of the Criminal Justice System, the Human Rights Act not to mention the f**king Geneva Convention!"
Derek Mason issued a sullen acceptance that his dream was over.
"I could have turned this place around you know Clive, ok it's like no other division I've ever heard about let alone been privileged to ....
The inspector interjected his boss and nipped the notion of any sentiment right in the bud
"Sir we are well shut of this division, at best it should be a 'UN Enclave' staffed by psychiatric health care professionals with strong Austrian accents, this place is no more than a f**king outdoor asylum" .
Superintendent Mason gathered what was left of his wits
"Ok ok we both know I've been shafted! But do you really think that this Harris character can at least save our jobs?"
Clive Styles was almost buzzing
"I'll need to make a few calls first, but hopefully we'll be home and dry by the time we give the Press Conference."
Derek Mason was not convinced
"I wish I had your confidence"
But his inspector showed no sign of pressure
"Trust me, now if you can just keep yourself out of sight and unavailable to everyone for an hour I can get this thing into shape"
The superintendent was almost a broken man
"Can you do it Clive? Do you know what you're doing?"
Superintendent Clive Styles
"I do now trust me. I'll meet you back here in an hour"
