‘Demolition..Keep out!’ the big sign declared. He paced beneath it near the entrance of the site.
God it was cold. This cold had acquired a damp edge which helped suck the warmth from his body. Stamping his feet he strode out towards an oncoming car and held up he hand in the command to stop. He was stationed at the entrance mainly to stop any onlookers, there were none, and the press.
As yet no press but the car approaching he noted was a large Mercedes, not the kind of cars reporters use to visit a crime scene. Its was very early in the day, dawn at not broken, and he was just starting his shift. Such was the lethargic sleep induced mood he did not notice the driver wore braid. As she stepped out of the car he suddenly recognised his Deputy Chief of Police in all her glory of a full uniform.
‘Christ’ he thought,’ what brings her here to this God forsaken spot?’
She more sauntered towards him rather than strode, an air of causality about her that let him relax just a little. Her only greeting was the word “Constable” .
“Ma am “ he said warily trying to assess the situation.
Removing her thick black driving spectacles she surveyed the man before her and the scene beyond with the drive way to the heavy machinery, the three parked cars, the dirt and dust shown in the orange lights. Above them both towered the half demolished concrete structure like a statue dedicated to bad municipal design.
“I heard over the air that two bodies had been found, one male one female?” it was a question that the officer expected. .
“Yes, ma am, a male about 50’ ish and a very young woman, teenager perhaps. Still waiting for forensics but the path man is here.”
“Pathology are so efficient.” she commented. Then as if skating round a tricky patch of road she enquired, “Ethnicity?”
At first the constable did not comprehend the question just replying ’”Ma’am?”
Then before she could answer he twigged the meaning.
“No ma am, no ethnicity, both white , probably English the DCI says.”
“Oh, good” she responded, clearly relieved at such news.
“So I can rest assured there will be no racial questions, no large community demos to cope with?”
“Probably not” assured the constable.
“DCI who?” she asked out of idle curiosity.
“Detective Ryan.” came the reply forcefully as if the constable admire the man.
“That old dinosaur. So old fashioned and un-PC I am glad we have not got a racial angle here, God what the press would make of him.”
“Ma am” was all the officer could say thinking safety lay in being stum.
“Well” said the Deputy I have a meeting in London to get to on diversity in the police force. We must recruit and promote ethnic minorities in the force. More top jobs should go to our coloured brethren, don’t you think constable?”
The office hesitated just a fraction before agreeing with “Certainly ma am.” then added a thought that he knew was close to her heart, “And more female officers.”
“That goes without saying.” she snapped back.
She was turning to leave when she cast a line as if fishing for a thread of an idea.
“Foul play, double murder it that how it is being read.”
“Could be “ but these two are very low on the social scale. Motive would be hard to find given their social position and according to the detective, two jumpers at the same spot with no apparent connection, very rare.”
“Quite” she smiled, “Murder /suicide then, the older man kills the girl then follows her down.?”
Wanting to be rid of his superior the officer agreed.
“Could well be ma am.”
“Oh good , that would tie things up nicely. Tell the detective not to waste too many resources on this unless he is very sure of a third party, we have all manner of social crimes to follow up from holocaust deniers to Islamophobic ’s, hate crimes etc. I must dash.”
“Yes ma am, ” he said as she climbed back in her car.
“Good day officer” she said as a parting shot through the open window.
As the car pulled away he heard the familiar tone of DCI Ryan issue from the shadows.
“And what did that bitch want?”
The constable turned and smiled for he liked this detective. Their paths had crossed a few times since he joined the force and he saw his own no none sense father in him.
“Basically she does not want us wasting resources on this case if it is murder /suicide.”
The man laughed a sarcastic grunt. Pulling a cigarette out of a packed to slowly light up and eased himself into the conversation.
“Well, I am due to retire in two months and in all my time I have never known a murderer be kind to his victim., assuming the older man killed the young woman.”
“Detective?” queried the constable.
“The girl Is wearing a man’s overcoat which I suspect the man gave to her because she was cold. What man gives his coat to his victim like that? Nay, it don’t add up. And what on earth links the two lives. What have they in common?”
The Constable had no answers so both men stood there in silence almost enjoying each others company. Then the younger man asked a question that was at the front of his mind.
“Detective do you think I have a future in the police force? I mean to rise to higher levels?”
His senior officer took a long pull on his cigarette then slowly answered.
“Off course son, you are bright enough.”
It was a standard answer and the Constable knew it so he pressed harder.
“No seriously Detective, an honest answer.”
“Do you bed girls or boys?”
The constable was taken aback at first then smiled.
“When I can it is a women every time.”
“So there is your answer, you are normal white heterosexual male.”
“I don’t see what that has to do with me having a career in the force.”
The older man grunted, “Kid” he said, “you are in a majority and that majority of white heterosexual males is the most hunted, most unsupported species on the planet. We live with the tyranny of the minorities, so what chance have you? The force reflects society not the other way round.”
“I have never thought of it that way.” said the young man puzzled more than enlightened.
Silence fell between them again as the young officer contemplated his future.
“So you will wrap up the case soon?” he asked as the Detective finished his smoke.
“Probably, “ he said walking backwards to finish interrogating the few demolition men inside.
He stopped still facing the officer he pointed to approaching headlights.
“Keeping the fucking press out and... murder suicide my arse.”
The officer watched has he disappeared into the gloom .
Turning to face the oncoming cars for there was at least three, he smiled to himself and repeated the words as he raised his arm, “murder/ suicide my arse.”
How he liked a plain speaking man.
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Footnote : In 2012 in the Northern town of Rochdale men of Pakistani origin were tried for the grooming, sexual assault and trafficking of young girls.
It resulted in the conviction of nine men for offences including rape and human trafficking of girls as young as 13 between 2005 and 2008.
In 2020 the CEO of Clinc resigned admitting quote:
“Although the allegations against me are rife with embellishments and fabrications some of which came out in the investigation, the truth is there are cases where I drank too much and partied with employees in a way that’s not becoming of a CEO,”
This novel is not based on anyone living or dead...it is pure fiction.
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