Rossiter

The station’s flickering fluorescent lights did little to illuminate the crime scene photos spread across Judd’s desk. He leaned in, squinting at the grainy images, searching for any clues the perpetrator may have left behind. Nothing. Just another dead end in Kingsbridge. Judd ran his hand over his short cropped hair and sighed. Twenty years as a detective constable and he still wasted his days investigating car crime and petty theft. He would have welcomed an assignment to the Major Incident Team, but doubted the call would come. He doubted he would cope with the excitement. There was a time when his drive and energy were stronger. But ever since Laura...

‘Hey Rossiter, we’ve got a lead on that missing jewellery case,’ DS O’Reilly said, strolling up to the desk and breaking into his reverie.

Judd nodded, gathering the disappointing photos into a stack. ‘It’s about time we caught a break. What’ve you got?’

‘Anonymous tip left on the hotline. Female caller, said she saw a scruffy-looking bloke pawning a gold locket in the High Street.’

‘Right. I’ll check it out then,’ Judd said, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. Maybe this mundane day was looking up after all.

‘Take Hopkins,’ O’Reilly said. ‘He’s making the place look untidy.’

Dave Hopkins looked up from his desk at the mention of his name. He caught Judd’s eye and grinned. Flakes of pastry tumbled down his shirt front, and Judd grimaced.

‘Sure,’ Judd said and grabbing his jacket, headed for the door, with Hopkins close behind, cramming the last morsel of pasty into his mouth.

‘Off the leash, then?’ Hopkins said as they made their way to the car-park and one of the decrepit pool cars. The autumn air was crisp, a welcomed change from the stuffy confines of the station.

‘Yeah,’ Judd said. He didn’t dislike Hopkins; the guy was alright in small doses, but Judd would have preferred being alone. He could have visited the pawnshop, then spent a pleasant hour walking round the park. He just knew that Hopkins would find some excuse to call in a pub for a couple of pints.

As they pulled out onto the main road, Judd gazed out the window, taking in the familiar sights of his home town. The quaint shops and cafes he had known since childhood. This place never seemed to change.

‘So, what’s the deal with you and your old man?’ Hopkins asked, interrupting the silence. ‘You never talk about him anymore.’

At one time, Judd had talked about his personal situation and relationships a lot. He regretted that openness now. He shifted in his seat. ‘It’s complicated.’

‘C’mon mate, we’ve been colleagues for years. You can tell me anything.’

Judd hesitated. He noted the colleagues, not friends, which, to be fair, was accurate. Did he want to talk about his father with Hopkins? His relationship with his father had always been strained, even more so after Laura’s disappearance. He could never bring himself to open up about it these days.

‘Let’s just focus on the case,’ Judd said, deflecting the question. Some things were better left unsaid. He parked the unmarked car on double yellow lines and put the card stating On Police Business on top of the dashboard. It usually worked. The pawnshop, tucked away on a side street, was just a brief stroll away. The place always gave Judd the creeps. Filled with other people’s broken dreams and discarded possessions. As they stepped inside, the musky scent of mothballs and dust filled Judd’s nose. He stifled a cough and approached the front counter. Perhaps a couple of pints wasn’t such a terrible idea.

Judd rang the bell on the counter, the shrill sound piercing the stillness of the shop. A few moments passed before the owner emerged from the back room.

‘Can I help you fellas?’ the man asked in a gravelly voice.

‘DC Rossiter and DC Hopkins,’ the two officers showed the man their warrant cards. ‘And you are?’ Judd asked.

‘Webb. Norman Webb.’

‘Well, Mr Webb,’ Judd continued, ‘We’re following up on a recent string of robberies in the area.’

The owner’s eyes narrowed. ‘Not sure why you think I’d know about that.’

‘We believe someone has pawned some of the stolen items in your shop,’ Hopkins added. ‘We’ll need to see your purchase records for the past month.’

The man scowled. ‘What makes you think that?’

‘Information received, Mr Webb,’ Judd said, ‘anonymous information.’

Webb grunted and begrudgingly slid a ledger across the counter. As Hopkins flipped through the pages, Judd’s gaze drifted around the shop. A glint caught his eye - a woman’s silver bracelet nestled between dusty electronics. Laura had one just like it.

Judd’s throat tightened. After all these years, her memory still haunted him. The bracelet blurred as his vision misted.

‘You alright, mate?’ Hopkins asked. Judd blinked rapidly. ‘Yeah, let’s just find what we need and get out of here.’

This place unearthed too many buried pains. He needed to keep it together, stay focused. Judd took a deep breath and turned his attention back to the case at hand. The past would have to wait a little longer.

Thirty minutes later, they stepped outside, glad to be out of the musty atmosphere and inhaling the crisp autumn air. Judd needed to clear his head after that unexpected flood of memories. They’d searched for stolen items in the shop based on the tip-off, but had drawn a blank. The place was undoubtedly full of stolen gear, just not what they were looking for.

‘You alright, mate?’ Hopkins said again, emerging behind him. Judd just nodded, staring down the alley lined with redbrick buildings.

‘Fancy a pint? Help get your mind off it?’

Judd checked his watch. Noon was fast approaching. ‘Yeah, alright. The Royal Oak around the corner?’

They settled at a corner table of the lounge bar, two pints of lager to hand. Judd took a long swig, savouring the light bitterness.

‘So how are things with your dad?’ Hopkins probed. ‘Any better?’

Judd sighed and shook his head. It didn't appear Hopkins had got the message. ‘We’re civil, but that’s about it. Just feels like there’s this gap between us, too much we don’t talk about.’

‘I’m sure it’s difficult, with your mum gone and all. But he’s still your old man.’

‘I know,’ Judd sighed. ‘Just wish we could get back to how things used to be.’

Hopkins nodded and steered the conversation to football. Judd welcomed the distraction. For now, work and banter with his colleagues were just what he needed. The wounds of the past could wait.