by Roger Keevil
Copper subsided back into his chair. “We’re going to miss you, guv. I’m … going to miss you. That’s going to change everything for me too, isn’t it?” His face wore a concerned frown. “Have you got any idea who I’m going to be working for after you’ve gone?”
Constable laughed. “Fretting about continuing to be a poor confused sergeant after my departure, eh? To be honest, David, I think that’s the least of your worries. But if I can offer you a word of advice, I think you ought to check your inbox rather more frequently.”
“Eh?” In puzzlement, Copper turned to the laptop on his desk and clicked a few keys.
“I think keeping yourself up to speed is going to take a very much higher priority from now on, Mr. Copper.”
Copper, intent on his screen, started to scroll through his emails. “Mostly the usual dross, guv … oh, hang on, there’s one here from …” He opened the message, and the frown on his face was slowly replaced by a beaming grin of delight. “It’s here … I’ve … I’ve got it!”
“Oh yes? And what would that be?” enquired Constable, making an unsuccessful attempt to stifle a smile. “Something you want to tell me?”
“I passed, guv,” glowed the sergeant. “I got the promotion. They’re making me up to Detective Inspector.” He broke off and cast an accusing glance at his fellow-officer. “You knew, didn’t you, guv? When? Why didn’t you say something?”
“I only found out first thing this morning,” replied Constable. “They copied the notification to me for information. But what with one thing and another, I haven’t really had the opportunity to mention it since, have I? Plus I didn’t want to spoil your pleasure in the discovery. Anyway, congratulations. It’s well-deserved.”
“Wow.” Copper sat back in his chair. “D.I. Copper,” he marvelled. “Doesn’t sound too bad, does it, guv?”
“I think we might all get used to it eventually,” smiled Constable. “Oh, by the way, less of the ‘guv’ from now on, if you don’t mind. If we’re going to be the same rank … well, for a little while, anyway … you’re going to have to make it ‘Andy’ from now on. Eh, David?”
“Righty-ho, guv … er … Andy. Although it’s going to feel a bit weird to start with. I might have to hark back to the arrangement we had when we were in Spain and call you ‘A.C.’”
“Better not do that when I’m with the Met,” chuckled Constable. “The Assistant Commissioner might suspect that I have unworthy ambitions.” He glanced at the wall clock. “And now I had better make my way in the direction of the Chief Constable to break the glad tidings to him. About the fact that he’s got a ready-made replacement for me when I’ve gone, I mean,” he added with a smile, uncoiling himself from behind his desk. “If you want to try out this chair for size while I’m away, feel free.”
“All change, then, sir … Andy.”
“As you say, all change.” Constable halted with his hand on the doorknob. “Oh, by the way, that name. You might have wondered about it, over the years.”
Copper shrugged. “Not really, guv. How do you mean?”
“It must have crossed your mind that, every time somebody wanted to call me ‘Andrew’, I put them right and insisted on ‘Andy’.”
“Never really gave it a thought, guv. I just thought it was one of those things.”
“And a fine detective inspector you’ll make if you don’t sharpen up those inquisitive skills,” remarked Constable in mock severity. “But I think you’ve earned the right to be let into this little guilty secret of mine.”
Copper looked dubious. “We’ve had a bucketful of guilty secrets in our time, guv. Are you sure I need to know this one?”
“Need to? No. But I think you’ll enjoy it. Call it my present to you in celebration of your promotion.”
“Okay. Go on.” Copper still sounded doubtful.
“You remember that story about the footballer and his snooty wife? How they were on a trip overseas, and it so happened that she got pregnant during their travels, and they named their son after the place where they reckoned he was conceived?”
“Y-e-e-s.”
“Well, they weren’t the first to have the idea. When my parents got married, in the year you need not trouble to work out, they didn’t have a great deal of money, so they couldn’t afford a honeymoon abroad. They were too busy getting the cash together to set up home. But they did manage to have a few days away together in a lovely little old-fashioned pub, not totally different from the Dammett Well Inn, in the Hampshire countryside, very close to a market town. Want to take a guess at the name of the town?”
Copper racked his brains for a few moments. “Not … oh, you’re kidding!”
“That’s right, David. The name of the town was Andover.”
After a few moments of silence, all those working in offices further along the corridor were startled by the sound of prolonged and uproarious male laughter.
***
The Inspector Constable Murder Mysteries
Murderer’s Fête
Who could have foreseen the murder of a clairvoyant at a country house fête?
Murder Unearthed
Sun, sangria and suspects during a supposed holiday in Spain
Death Sails In The Sunset
Murder ensues when a journalist refuses to let guilty secrets be buried at sea
Murder Comes To Call
Three short stories to tax the talents of our detectives
Murder Most Frequent
Another trilogy of intriguing cases for Constable and Copper
The Odds On Murder
Someone is riding for a fall when a prominent racehorse trainer is killed
The Murder Cabinet
A return to Dammett Hall leaves the fate of the nation in the team’s hands
All titles available worldwide from Amazon on Kindle and in paperback
