CHAPTER SEVEN

  On the way to the hospital, ‘Gee-Gee’ told Baxter about Peter Sykes, the well-known local drunk who was found by an early morning rod fisherman upon the Fish Quay. Sykes had been unconscious and taken to the General Hospital where his condition had been stabilised, though he was yet to regain consciousness.

  ‘So, what’s that got to do with us? Didn’t you say before that you had ruled out crime as being the cause of his condition’?

  Feeling somewhat empowered by his albeit temporary, superior knowledge of the situation, ‘Gee-Gee’ continued ‘Yeah, I know, but there is a bit of a problem…another bloke has been brought in, one of Sykes’ drinking buddies.

  Fred Tamblin, do you know him?…he’s just a serial pisshead, nuisance, shoplifter and more importantly a fucking waste of time. He is out of it too, same symptoms. It’s probably nothing. Bad batch of drugs or something.

  ‘That’s it then’ thought Baxter,…’Case solved and ‘Gee-Gee’ hasn’t even spoken to the hospital staff yet. This man truly is an investigatory genius’! ‘Take nothing for granted, don’t assume anything, take nothing on face value’…the basic mantra on even the most rudimentary of police courses…perhaps ‘Gee-Gee’ had been off that day. Or perhaps, as ‘Gee-Gee’ genuinely believed, he actually did know better than anyone else.

  Baxter was familiar with Sykes and Tamblin, having arrested them both several years ago when he was in uniform. He would never have had them down as being into drugs. He hoped that when he had transferred to CID that he had seen the last of them. He also knew from experience, that once they got themselves into ‘orbit’ that they would probably consume absolutely anything. He did know however, know that ‘solids’ were not high on their list of favoured consumables.

  Parking was always a challenge at the hospital, and as they pulled into the car park ‘Gee-Gee’ said that he would look for a parking space if Baxter went inside to A&E to see if he could locate Tamblin.

  ‘Well, surely he will either be in A & E or in the same ward as Sykes’?

  ‘Err, well, I can’t actually remember what ward they said they were going to take him to’ responded a somewhat hesitant ‘Gee-Gee’.

  What ‘Gee-Gee’ actually meant was ‘You go inside first, you make the initial contact and ‘hey presto’! ‘You’ get ‘lumbered’ with the responsibility of a) having given your name, b) in the eyes of the hospital ‘You’ had assumed ‘ownership’ of the situation and c) much more importantly from his perspective, he (‘Gee-Gee’) gets to ‘off load’ the job onto someone else.

  He was a past master of the ‘the body swerve’ and happily drove off to look for a space. Naturally, he was in no rush to find one, because he figured that the longer that he took to park, the more likely it was that objectives a, b, and c would have been achieved. After ten minutes or so of driving around aimlessly, ‘Gee-Gee’ was confident that Baxter would be well on his way to achieving ‘his goals’ and he decided to park the CID car behind an ambulance in an ‘Emergency Vehicles Only’ lay by outside the Emergency Entrance. In ‘Gee-Gee’s’ skewed logic there did not actually ‘need’ to be an ‘emergency’ just an ‘Emergency Vehicle’. Therefore in his tiny mind, all parking criteria had been fully satisfied.

  Keeping up with departmental tradition, he placed the vehicle log book, ‘logo’ side up in a prominent and clearly visible position on the dash board. He then went inside and was directed to Ward 7 where Baxter had been sent in search of Tamblin and Sykes.

  ‘Gee-Gee’ followed the raft of overhead signs leading to Ward 7 and was about to enter when Baxter and a stunning young nurse exited the swinging doors. ‘What is it about nurses and Police Officers’ thought ‘Gee-Gee’ making a mental note to find out her name and her shift pattern. His mind was on adjusting his silk tie (£39.99 from Harvey Nicks online), making eye contact with the nurse and smiling so sickeningly that Baxter almost vomited.

  As usual with ‘Gee-Gee’ it was anything but police work. However, on this occasion Baxter too, felt equally distracted. ‘Gee-Gee’ immediately identified himself to the nurse and though being the same rank as Baxter he was at pains to make it clear to his ‘new love interest’ that he was, quite wrongly, very much the senior man on hand.

  ‘You do look familiar. Are you sure that we have not met before’?

  The nurse was not impressed. She had seen and heard it all before. ‘No’ she said quite curtly…’I would have remembered’.

  Non-introductions over, ‘Gee-Gee’ said ‘By the way Jeff, where are we off to? I thought that Tamblin was in Ward 7’.

  ‘He was. He’s gone.’

  ‘Told you so. Total waste of time this lot. Discharge himself did he. Typical’.

  ‘Not quite’, said Baxter pinning ‘Gee-Gee’ with a serious stare…. ‘He’s gone. Gone to the mortuary…he died’.

  Unconcealed panic spread across ‘Gee-Gee’s’ face and he reached for his mobile.

  ‘What are you doing’? said Baxter

  ‘Calling the D.I. he’ll want to know’.

  Adding to his embarrassment the nurse said ‘Oh, I thought from what you have been saying that you were the D.I. and I’m sure you will be aware that all mobiles must be turned off within the confines of the hospital’

  ‘Gee-Gee’ flushed.

  The nurse looked at Baxter. She smiled.

  Baxter looked at the nurse. He winked.

  It was glorious…’Gee-Gee’ was deconstructing before their very eyes.

  Tamblin was still dead and Baxter quite guiltily thought that the simple act of dying was probably the best thing he had ever done in his pathetically sad existence. Baxter and the nurse then made their way through the labyrinth of ‘staff only’ corridors in the ever expanding General Hospital. ‘Gee-Gee’ followed a discreet distance behind. Baxter did not know whether his colleague was embarrassed or just employing ‘work avoidance tactics’ either way it gave Baxter some time alone with the nurse who introduced herself as Hannah White.

  Hannah left Baxter outside the mortuary doors and as he ‘buzzed’ for access, she passed ‘Gee-Gee’ as she made her way back to the Ward 7. ‘Gee-Gee’ was clearly made of stern stuff and he was not completely defeated yet. He stopped the nurse, gave her a business card, and asked for her number ‘Just in case I need to clarify anything with you’.

  The nurse smiled dryly at the Police Officer and said ‘Oh, its okay, Jeff gave me his card and he knows my number. Thanks anyway’. She returned his card and walked on purposely, her head elevated towards the ceiling.

  At different ends of the same corridor both Baxter and Hannah wore broad grins.

  The door to the mortuary was opening just as ‘Gee-Gee’ joined Baxter who upon seeing his somewhat down trodden colleague said ‘You took your time’. Barely unable to conceal his displeasure ‘Gee-Gee’ replied ‘Well, you fucking didn’t’.

  The door was opened by a tall gangly man with jam jar spectacles. He had worked at the mortuary as Senior Technician for as long as anyone could remember. He was affectionately referred to as ‘Lurch’, though not openly. This was largely due to the fact that he was never very far away from razor sharp instruments and he was a wholly unknown entity…to the living at least.

  He was an unusually gentle man, who regarded the deceased as his personal ‘charges’, most of whom were in various stages of dissection and decomposition. He treated them with both respect and genuine affection.

  On the first occasion Baxter had attended a post mortem, ‘Lurch’ talked the deceased through the procedure offering words of reassurance and heartening comfort. He was a unique individual. He rarely spoke to the living, unless prompted. He was a natural at his job, and he appeared to have advanced communication skills with the recently dead.

  Baxter produced his warrant card, identified himself and explained the reason for their visit. Satisfied, ‘Lurch’ led them through the vaporous atmosphere to a guttered gurney where the body of a middle aged man whom Baxter recognised as Fre
d Tamblin lay naked under a sheet.

  ‘Lurch’ partially removed the sheet explaining to ‘Fred’ that the two men with him were Police Officers, and they had just come to check that he (Fred) was okay and to see if they could help him in any way. ‘In life’, Tamblin would have ‘died’ at the prospect of giving or receiving any help from the police. But there was little that he could do about that now.

  Baxter could only imagine if Fred had responded in some inaudible way to ‘Lurch’ because seconds later the sheet was gently removed allowing Baxter and ‘Gee-Gee’ to conduct a physical examination of the ravaged, emaciated naked body of the career alcoholic.

  Unpleasant as it was, they, or rather a latex gloved Baxter, checked through the hairline and visibly examined the body, searching for any signs of injury. When Baxter and Lurch rolled the body over, that once smelt never to be forgotten odour filled Baxter’s nostrils…it was the sort of smell that clung to your clothing and impregnated your every pore.

  If there was one smell in the world that you could taste, this was it.

  There was nothing obvious to be seen. Furthermore, as this was not yet officially a suspicious death, it was unlikely that Fred would jump the queue ahead of the other cadavers awaiting the inevitable attention of ‘Lurch’ and the Pathologist.

  Cursory examination completed, Baxter and ‘Gee-Gee’ left the mortuary and using the public corridors wended their way back to Ward 7 where Hannah was still working at the nurse’s station. She stood up and smiled as Baxter entered the ward, the smile fading as ‘Gee-Gee’ appeared in Baxter’s slip stream.

  Hannah explained that the Doctor was yet to do his rounds and had left strict instructions that Sykes should not receive visitors under any circumstances. That did not concern Baxter, too much he was just pleased to see Hannah again. Before leaving, Baxter asked what would be the best time to call for an update. She said ‘It’s okay. I’ve got your number I will give you a call later on’.

  There was something about the words ‘later on’ that resonated with Baxter.

  In a fraction of a second, all manner of thoughts seemed to populate Baxter’s mind…’I am imagining this’? ‘I am misreading the situation?’ ‘Is she coming onto me’?

  He lamely responded ‘Fine. Feel free to call me anytime’.

  ‘Oh. I will Jeff. I will’. Baxter turned, and without comment left the ward. The nurse did not bid farewell to ‘Gee-Gee’.

  Once outside the main building ‘Gee-Gee’ was on his mobile to the D.I. immediately updating him regarding the situation at the hospital, infuriatingly, giving the clear impression that it was he, and not Baxter who had made the enquiries. After the call ‘Gee-Gee’ said ‘Apparently, there has been some developments the boss wants up back at the factory pronto’.

  As ‘Gee-Gee’ walked to the driver’s side of the car he let out a scream ‘Oh Fuck! The bastards have clamped the car’!

  Clearly, the minimum waged, commissioned based, privately employed car park attendant did not give much credence to the ownership of the CID car. Even in times of economic hardship there was money to be made.

  ‘Gee-Gee’ said ‘Jeff can you get on the blower and tell the boss that we may be a while, just tell him we have got a flat or something’.

  Baxter was livid. He felt like telling him to use his own phone but instead, he took his mobile and called the D.I. As he heard the D.I. answer he handed the phone to ‘Gee-Gee’ and said ‘It’s for you’ He then walked off going to reception where he used a ‘Taxi Free Phone’ to call a cab.

  When he returned to the car, ‘Gee-Gee’ was raging ‘, he handed Baxter the phone and said ‘What did you do that for? Now the boss thinks that I am a right cock’!

  Finding an immediate place in his memory, and filing it under ‘Revenge’, Baxter thought ‘So, you seem to think that it is okay for me to look like a cock. We shall see about that’. Moments later, a taxi pulled up. Baxter got in but before it drove off he said to ‘Gee-Gee’…’Very perceptive that D.I. of ours, don’t you think’? He left ‘Gee-Gee’ standing, raging, fuming.

  For once, Baxter was in total agreement with ‘Gee-Gee’ about the way the D.I. would see things.

  Baxter was by nature a person who communicates readily, but during the course of the taxi journey back to the office, he probably confirmed the driver’s assumption that all Police Officers’ are miserable, with ideas above their station. He rarely spoke but he was not sure whether it was the impact that Hannah had had upon him, or the sense of satisfaction that ‘Gee-Gee’ had finally dug himself into a hole, and that it was going to be hugely entertaining watching him trying to extricate himself from the situation. So, he resolved to get his defence in first.

  As he walked into the office, the D.I. was holding court. The man was clearly out of his depth, and sinking fast, he was beginning to show the early signs of panic. He was issuing contradictory instructions to all those present, which reminded Baxter of a sawn off shotgun releasing its directionless charge. Baxter tried to stay out of the D.I.’s field of vision, but it failed once again, and as soon as he was seen he was pinned down by a desperate man looking for a scapegoat.

  ‘So, where is ‘Gee-Gee’ is he washing his hands’?

  ‘He’s still at the hospital, sorting out the car’

  ‘Has he not changed that tyre yet’?

  ‘The lying bastard’ thought Baxter ‘he has not told him what has happened’…without referring to the wheel clamp Baxter replied ’He must be having trouble with the wheel, which strictly speaking was true. I came back in a taxi because he said you wanted us back here’

  ‘Well at least you showed some initiative. Give me what you have from the hospital’.

  Baxter brought everyone up to speed with what HE had learnt from the hospital. Whilst doing so he once again felt the ghost of Jim Hodder brush his arm. He failed to mention ‘Gee-Gee’ and effectively airbrushed him out of the situation, working on the theory that ‘if there is any credit to be gained, I am going to get it’, and ‘if there are any bollockings to be dished out, I am going to make sure that they are going in ‘Gee-Gee’s’ direction.

  The pressure was beginning to show on the D.I.’s face. What he said next explained it all…’Right guys, we (meaning him) are under a bit of pressure…the media are kicking the shit out of us (meaning him) and they have not let up since that fucking prisoner escaped. Now to add to the feeding frenzy all of our resident drunks turning up dead or nearly dead. They are going to have a field day unless we (meaning him) can get a result to get them off our backs (meaning his back)’.

  Various teams were despatched to check on the last known movements of Sykes and Tamblin. Others were to research their associates, families and backgrounds.

  The D.I. said to Baxter ‘Just what is keeping ‘Gee-Gee’ surely he has got that car sorted out now. I need you two to go to Sykes and Tamblin’s homes and see what you can turn up’.

  Just then Baxter’s mobile rang. It was a number that he did not instantly recognise. He felt a slight flutter in his stomach thinking that it may be Hannah…it wasn’t. Disappointingly, it was Hodder who explained that he and his wife were staying in a Country House Hotel in Northumberland and because he had no mobile signal he wanted to give Jeff his wife’s number so he could be updated re the whereabouts of Dean Parks.

  Baxter felt a little awkward talking to Hodder in the presence of the D.I. and said tersely as his earpiece bleeped ‘I will call you back later. I have another call coming in’, Hodder was still talking when Baxter ended the call.

  The display showed that it was ‘Gee-Gee’ calling. Baxter said to the D.I. ‘It’s ‘Gee-Gee’ do you want a word, I’m bursting for a leak’…’Fucking Right I do’. Baxter simultaneously pressed the answer button and activated the ‘speaker mode’ as he handed the phone to the Boss.

  As he walked away he heard ‘Gee-Gee’ shouting down the phone ‘Wait until I fucking see you’. Just before he exited the office Baxter heard the D.I. s
ay in a cold, calculated way ‘And just you wait until I see you. Get your fucking arse back here now’!

  Except in times of personal emergency which were usually caused by excess alcohol, coupled with bad timing and a clear lack of toileting facilities, Baxter had never enjoyed a piss as much in his life. For the second time that day he was alone and beaming like a deranged idiot.

  Returning to the office the D.I. was there alone. Fuming. ‘What is it with ‘Gee-Gee’? ‘Now he can’t start the car. I’ve suggested that we get our workshop to recover it but he reckons that he will be back soon. He has asked that you nip up to see him he says that Sykes is coming round’.

  ‘Okay. If I take my car, will you authorise the expenses? I have already shelled out for a taxi once today’.

  ‘Yeah, why not. Don’t crash it though. We, (meaning him), are in enough shit as it is’.

  Baxter felt a little nervous as he returned to the hospital. It took him a few minutes to find a parking space in the pay and display section of the grounds. As he walked towards the front of the hospital he heard raised voices and looking directly through the side windows of a stationary ‘Variety Club Sunshine Coach’, he saw ‘Gee-Gee’ arguing with a uniformed car park attendant who was adamantly refusing to release the clamped vehicle unless the £80.00 fee was paid.

  ‘But it’s a fucking police vehicle, you fucking moron yelled ‘Gee-Gee’. I have been into the mortuary’.

  ‘Sir’, replied the warden ‘shouting like that may well raise the dead and indeed, your blood pressure, but it will not get your car released’.

  An apoplectic, ‘Gee-Gee’ screamed it’s not my car. I have told you it’s a fucking police car, you fucking cretin’.

  Remaining impressively calm, the warden replied, ‘That’s as may be Sir. However, regardless of ownership, the release fee must be paid. As we say in the trade No fee, we win’. This bloke certainly had a sense of humour and Baxter was revelling in this impressively unruffled display of power.

  Sensing a window of opportunity ‘Gee-Gee’ said…’Look, I am investigating a suspicious death and you are obstructing that investigation’.

  Years of practice and repetition allowed the warden to impressively enunciate. ‘Sir, not only you are obstructing me in my duties, much more importantly you are obstructing the Emergency Entrance to this large and extremely busy hospital.

  The fee simply must be paid. We do accept credit cards and you can pay me now. Failure to do so may result in the vehicle being towed away thereby incurring an additional daily storage charge. The choice is entirely yours Sir. I have other matters to attend to. I shall afford you fifteen minutes to come to a decision’.

  With that the warden walked away. Whistling. A man clearly happy in his work. It was then that Baxter noticed that the warden was wearing a ‘Helmet Cam’…what he wouldn’t give for a copy of that recording. . He may have been a ‘jobs-worth’ but Baxter liked him more and more by the second. It was time for Baxter to make an entrance.

  Unaware that his altercation with the warden had been witnessed, ‘Gee-Gee’ put on a not very brave ‘brave face’ as he saw Baxter walking towards him. ‘Oh, I’m just waiting for the car to be released’. However, his face told a very different story. Baxter loved this. The day was getting better by the second.

  Without saying much more, Baxter quickly made his way to Ward 7 for two reasons. In order of preference, he wanted to see Hannah again and then get back to the front of the building to watch the latest episode of ‘Gee-Gee’s’ humiliation. He was struck by a modicum of guilt that Sykes had not assumed more prominence in his consciousness.

  As he had suspected, this was just another body swerve by ‘Gee-Gee’ and there had been no change in Sykes’ condition. However, the ward manger helpfully handed over his house keys in exchange for a signature.

  Hannah was nowhere to be seen so Baxter he made his way to the mortuary where after presumably, obtaining consent from the recently departed, ‘Lurch’ gave him Tamblin’s house keys.

  It seemed that ‘Round Two’ was well under way when Baxter got back outside the building. The warden had used his time wisely because on this occasion, he had brought reinforcements in the shape of a recovery truck and a rather menacing looking driver who looked like he ‘moon shined’ as a nightclub bouncer. What a double act these guys made. This really was the stuff of a Channel 5 documentary.

  ‘Gee-Gee’ was still attempting to ‘rescue’ the car with a combination of pleas and threats. Neither tactic was going to secure a draw, or a knockout. He was clearly well behind on points. This formidable duo clearly had him on the ropes.

  When he saw Baxter he took him aside and said ‘Don’t suppose that you have your credit card on you do you Jeff mate, I left mine at home? We have to pay to get the car released’.

  ‘Gee-Gee’ was sweating heavily, his forehead creased with stress lines, his top shirt button undone, his silk tie loose and stained with perspiration. Baxter said ‘We? It’s you who will have to pay. It’s your problem. Sort it out. And you had better do it pretty damn quick. The D.I. wants us to search those wino’s houses. I can’t cover for you much longer. Oh, and by the way cut out the threatening phone calls to the D.I. don’t you think he has enough on his plate’.

  Baxter then walked off towards his car leaving ‘Gee-Gee’ swearing profusely, but not loud enough to drown out the sound of the recovery truck reversing into position as the warden and the driver worked collectively to police the police and uplift the vehicle.

  Before he got to his car ‘Gee-Gee’ ran over to Baxter and through his heavy panting managed to mumble …’Can you do me a favour’?

  ‘What now’? Baxter sensed what was to come ‘Err, can we keep this between the two of us? And can you give me a lift the bastards have taken the car I will get it tomorrow’.

  ‘Won’t say a word’…as they made their way back to the office one man was clearly happier than the other…he was the man who was thinking ‘I don’t have to say a single word…the camera never lies’.

  Baxter made it back to the office, where the D.I. and D.C.I. were discussing whether Search Warrants should be obtained prior to Baxter and ‘Gee-Gee’ searching the homes of the deceased and soon to be deceased if things continued going from bad to worse.

  It felt like guilt by association when referring to ‘Gee-Gee’ the D.I. said to Baxter ‘Is your mucker back yet’? Before he could answer the D.C.I. had obviously misunderstood the question and said to the D.I. ‘If you want Hodder to come back from leave you may as well have him team up with young Baxter here who can brief him. If Professional Standards ‘kick up’ tell them that it was my idea because we were short staffed. I would prefer to nip this in the bud. I don’t want this to escalate. If H.Q. get to thinking that we have an epidemic on our hands they will open up an Incident Room and you know what that means…outside interference and loss of local control…not good for reputations’!

  The inept D.I. gulped heavily…the D.C.I. was largely untouchable but a newly promoted D.I.? He was fair game for the sharks from the Command Block.

  ‘Do you know where Hodder is Jeff’?

  ‘He rang me earlier’ said Baxter before continuing ‘I can contact him. He was in Northumberland with his wife, but it will probably be tomorrow at the earliest when he gets back’

  ‘No worries if he is booked in somewhere for a few days we will just have to manage without him’.

  At this point ‘Gee-Gee’ stormed into the office. He was sweating heavily, tie still undone a man most definitely not at one with the world. His day was about to take a turn for the worse when he spotted the D.C.I. and the D.I.

  ‘Ah’, said the D.I. ‘About the phone call before…do you have anything to say to me’?

  ‘Gee-Gee’ shuffled uncomfortably from side to side and began to focus upon his shoes as if they had assumed some earth shattering importance or maybe he was hoping that that the floor would open up and swallow him. Either way, nothing of the sort
seemed to happening imminently, and as the silence grew, Baxter had to suppress his laughter. ‘Gee-Gee’ said ‘Sorry Sir, I was just a bit annoyed that Jeff had left me stranded. You see, by the time I got back to car the recovery truck was there and they took it away’.

  And surprisingly this was true.

  Demonstrating the stupidity that Hodder had often told Baxter about, the D.I. said ‘So, you finally took my advice and called out workshops to get it taken in. Very wise. We can’t have you lot driving around in unsafe vehicles. Did they say what it was’?

  Sensing hope for the first time in the last couple of hours ‘Gee-Gee’ said ‘Well, it was just the recovery driver who came he is not a mechanic’.

  Body swerve followed body swerve as growing increasingly in confidence ‘Gee-Gee’ said that if was nothing serious the car should be back tomorrow, in fact, he had arranged to collect it to save any inconvenience to anyone else’.

  ‘Not to worry. No harm done. But ‘Gee-Gee…just watch your language when you use the fucking phone. You never know who is listening’.

  ‘I was’ pondered Baxter ‘and this is not over. Not by a long shot’.

  With that the D.C.I. got up and left the office shaking his head in bewildered amusement and mumbling something under his breath.

  As Sykes and Tamblin were both council tenants Baxter suggested that they contact the Local Authority for permission to enter the properties. He also proposed taking a council official along as an independent observer. It was fraught with danger, leaving oneself open to allegations of theft etc. from the grieving parasitic relatives by going into a property when the tenant was not around, even more so in cases like Tamblin, where he would never be around again.

  ‘Good idea’ said the D.I.

  ‘Can you sort it out for me please ‘Gee-Gee’? said Baxter ‘I have a couple of calls to make before we go’.

  ‘What am I? Your lackey? Fumed ‘Gee-Gee’.

  ‘I said it was a good idea’ the D.I. chipped in…‘you heard Jeff. He has better things to do other than hang around car parks all day, like some kind of ‘Peeping Tom’.

  Baxter knew that the D.I. would bend with the breeze, so he did not take this comment as either a show of support or a pat on the back. As he was making his way to the car park outside the police station his mobile rang, he did not recognise the number but it looked familiar. He was disappointed it was Hodder. ‘Hi Jim. How are your hols’?’

  ‘Getting worse by the second. What’s happening with Parks? Have you done the warrant yet’?

  Raising his eyes to the sky Baxter said ‘I’ve got it. We have had a bit of a problem two of the local piss heads, Sykes and Tamblin, have ended up in hospital. Tamblin croaked so it’s all hands to the pumps but don’t worry I’ll do it as soon as I can’.

  ‘How did he die’?

  ‘Don’t know at the moment, but it doesn’t look suspicious. His body probably gave up after years of abuse. You of all people should know about that…only joking before you go nuts’.

  ‘Look’ interrupted the very un-jolly holiday maker, ‘I’ve got to get back and get Parks in custody the longer this goes on the more likely that the rubber healers are gonna do a job on me’.

  Baxter then brought Hodder up to date with developments regarding the ever decreasing alcoholic population of the town and how the D.C.I. had suggested that he would welcome his return.

  In response Hodder said that he would be back mid-morning and that he would break the news to Grace over dinner tonight.

  Baxter ended the call thinking…’Rather you than me’.

  Hodder ended the call thinking more or less the same thing with the added caveat that ‘there is no situation that a Police Officer can’t make worse’.

 
Ian Douthwaite's Novels