by Harry Nankin
“Thanks for fixing up the membership at the golf club” said Richards
“Really, sorry not me I have been too busy. I need you on another matter.”
“How can I help?” asked Jack
“It’s too complicated to speak on the phone. Is it is Ok to come down we could discuss it sometime?”
“Very well I look forward to seeing you as and when”.
“Ok Jack, I will ring you from home and pop down and we can speak, bye”.
The call was ended.
PART SIX
JACK THE HAT RECALLED
He was proceeding nicely with his book, to quote a phrase from his long so long ago days of walking the beat in East London, at the regulation pace.
How he now wished all those years ago when just after joining the police when he had been brought face to face with a new instrument, which was to prove the main tool in his new life in the police.
A Remington typewriter, they were tall, heavy and black in colour. One also required black or blue carbon papers, as everything was required either in duplicate or occasionally triplicate.
A copious supply of scrap paper torn into small pieces used to go between the sheets to be typed amending the many mistakes. Finally and worse, three mistakes and the Sergeants insisted the whole page had to be retyped.
It went without saying of course most of this work was done in each officers own time after or before their normal tour of duty.
During the many recent hours he had spent, sitting, recalling, contemplating and almost as many typing, if only those years ago he had been able to learn the skill of touch-typing how much simpler life would be now.
There had of course been no time to learn how to touch type so it had been the first finger of each hand from those days until now.
Writing a book of his own was proving interesting, recalling incidents, embellishing others but always having at hand the fantasy. Occasionally he became despondent thinking of his first comments to Anne as to the difficulties of publishing a book.
It now came home to him even more, in the behind the scenes private world and solace of his office, study call it what you may. The reality had now struck home.
He had found himself actually talking to himself, “No one or practically no one will ever read what I am writing”.
He was consoled by the words his father had said when he was a small boy.
It was each Saturday afternoon at 5pm; the radio announcer had read the weekly soccer results. Father had checked these against the selected same numbers of what was known as, the perm. They being, the selected numbers to make up the plan of any eight from ten teams to finish with a drawn game.
They always failed to click so that the £75,000 as it was known in those days which if won, would change working families lives forever, it never happened.
When mother had commented every week it was a waste of time and money his father had replied immediately, again, every week the four magic but elusive words “Have a little faith”.
Regretfully mother had proved to be the prophet in the family for the £75,000 or anything like was never won.
Thinking of his current project and now looking at the screen of what he was currently typing he became more despondent.
Speaking with other budding authors practically all had failed to find someone prepared to publish their book.
The few that had now complained of waiting two years to see the results of their labour after all in their eyes it was the best book ever written and published in the public domain.
Their long awaited anticipation being rewarded with only 10% of the selling price of the book whilst the seller in the shop received a massive 50% simply for displaying the masterpiece on the shelf.
In the worst-case scenario if the masterpiece did not sell as the seller had them on sale and return the shopkeeper suffered no loss.
Perhaps he thought, the worst report he had received was of those who have been advised suggested to or conned into promoting their books free as an ebook on the Internet, which was guaranteed to bring massive numbers of readers.
Books that no one was interested in suddenly became popular and all who had tried the system reported many hundreds of down loads but for no recompense.
Since the free days they had anxiously been waiting for the downloads with payment.
Nothing had happened either for three months when they had attempted the promotion once again, either with a new book or the same book and once again received yet more massive downloads, followed by no sales.
Convincing them their books were good and many thousands wished to read them but only for free, the vast cost of £2 being a bridge too far.
He would also attempt to avoid the mistakes of those who had become a local bore or worse, a nuisance by discussing their book or books in depth with the locals who weren’t actually interested them or their books and so since the first encounter had avoided the budding authors like the black death plague.
Those few that were interested, with smiling faces, and wet lips showing their appetite to read the latest wonder even offering to call and pick up a copy.
They suddenly suffered a dropped expression when asked for £2 to read as the down load people paid or a deposit of £5 for a book, which had cost £10 to print and bind pending the return of the book in good order.
The poor author having explained his books loaned free were often returned torn or covered in jam or even blood.
The enthusiasm of the pending reader now faded and they never called for the book they had seemed so anxious to read.
These thoughts caused him to pause and to ponder if it was worthwhile continuing.
His solace was interrupted by almighty providence with the doorbell sounding.
“Jack” came Anne’s voice “Mr Woodcock is here to see you I will send him through”.
“Ah yes very well”, he rose from his seat then walked to the door and opened it to greet his guest with right hand outstretched ready for the handshake.
“Hello Jack, how nice to see you, thank you for seeing me unannounced”, as he gave the handshake, which Jack recognised as that of the brotherhood of the Free and accepted Masons.
Not returning the Masonic handgrip Jack replied, “It is good to see you again Christian, but what can I do for you?”
“Well Jack, you will no doubt be surprised when you hear of my mission, I hope you will give my proposition your full consideration”.
“It is beginning to sound very ominous but I am all ears,” laughed Jack, which caused Woodcock to feel a little despondent as Jack the Hat was not known for hilarious laughter.
“Well Jack if you will bear with me, here is the burden of my song”.
“Go-ahead Christian, time is something I have plenty of these days”, which caused a ray of hope for the author of the mission about to be imparted.
“Well Jack, my mission is to seek your help, not only my request but that of the Chief HMI and the Home Secretary himself”.
He saw Jack’s face turn to a grimace but thought he would endeavour to persevere and so continued.
“Over recent weeks Jack, five uniformed police constables have been found dead whilst on duty.”
“Two from Cheshire here, who were found dead in their police car, the other three, were serving in the Manchester, Wrexham and Shropshire areas.”
“The officers were not connected or known to each other. They were all found. Just dead”.
“No signs of violence, all had post mortems the results of which were identical, natural causes, known medically as some adult sudden death syndrome.”
“The only suspicious thing appears to be that they were all young, fit and well and just simply died.”
“I came upon the information accidentally whilst making my recent force inspections.”
Jack sat impassively, looking through the window, anyone else would have thought he was rather ignorant and ignoring the story of which such a senior police officer was impart
ing.
Woodcock however knowing him realised his mind was in full gear and every word he had spoken was being absorbed and digested. Jack made no response even though Woodcock had stopped speaking.
“I have a feeling Jack there may be more to this than meets the eye, but what I have no idea”.
“My mission here today is to ask you to investigate the deaths, see if there is another answer”.
Jack now turned and replied “ But I am retired why me?”
“Why you? Because Jack you are the best there is”
“Unfortunately, I am now engrossed in writing a book”
“A book Jack, not one of them, a book, have you researched the chances of getting it published?”
Jack nodded but made no reply.
“Come on Jack, say you will investigate these cases, if you will agree think of the satisfaction you will get looking into these cases rather than sitting here for hours and at the end more than likely all your effort has been for or nothing”.
“Christian it doesn’t seem practical, I have no facilities, no authority to speak with anyone, check documents the whole range of problems, you know the giff”.
“If you will agree Jack, I will arrange for you to have an office at Chester nick, I will arrange for a senior experienced officer to assist you, that officer will have full powers. In addition all Chief Constables of the forces concerned will be made aware of your enquiry and that it had been authorised right from the top”.
Jack looked towards the window again further contemplating, but this time he did speak, but without looking back.
“What if there is anything amiss in the cases or if there is not, what do I do with the information I find, if any of course?”
“Ah yes Jack it is hoped you will be able to complete your enquiries by the occasion of the annual conference of Inspectors of Constabulary and Chief-Constables, in the evening you would present your results to the gathered audience of the elite of the police so to speak.”
He nodded slowly and said, “I see”.
“Come Jack say you will agree”, said Christian almost begging, he had no idea what he would tell his chief should Jack refuse, something he had so far not contemplated?
“Based in Chester Police station you say, well it’s not too far, and I have a senior officer, an experienced detective to do the bag carrying, who is in charge at Chester anyway?”
“Oh Jack a very great guy I can definitely vouch for him.”
“Craig Denton-Smyth, one of the new breed of managers, so he doesn’t have much practical background but is a wonderful administrator”.
“I can fully vouch for him. He joined the police only four years ago as an adult manager.”
He came direct from University at Manchester with a top law degree. He went to Bramshill was so great there he was successful in the junior and intermediate command courses, back to back.”
“He was appointed a Chief Super and directly came from Bramshill as my bag carrier in fact.”
I found him a great help on my force inspections. I managed to pull a few strings and persuaded Chief Miles Ridwell to appoint him as the Chief Super here in Chester, Craig will be of every assistance to you, no doubt about that. You will be greeted with open arms”.
Jack knew the type they were everywhere in the police these days, didn’t know their arse from their elbow but were ambitious and intent of setting the world on fire at the expense of anyone in their way. He pondered then gave his answer.
“Christian I will just give it some thought, and speak with Anne, then get back to you, but no promises.”
Christian rose, he felt he had stated his case; the ball was now in Jacks` court. He rose they shook hands and Woodcock then left.
When he had gone Jack went down stairs, upon his arrival Anne was dressed and waiting to go out. “Morning drink time” thought Jack, who said nothing simply put on his coat and hat but as he did so, he put up his thumb, striking the front of his hat so that the item adjusted backwards.
Anne said nothing but smiled, then would wait to see what he had to say.
They arrived at the coffee shop, and sat down, Mrs Delwright arrived took the order which he gave her; she turned and left, then stopped and returned. “You did say one tea and one coffee and a piece of carrot cake”.
“That’s` it” replied Jack removing his hat as he spoke.
Mrs Delwright turned once again and on arrival at the counter, spoke to Girda to make the drinks.
She herself reached over took a serving knife and plate and was about to place a piece of cake on the plate from the rear of the plate.
She hesitated then looked up and saw Jack looking at her. She then changed her tact and took one of the two large pieces from the front of the carrot cake plate, then smiled which was returned by Jack.
“Cake and coffee this morning Jack” said Anne, “what is in the wind?”
“Well Timber Dick had a proposition for me”.
“I beg you pardon” she replied, “Jack whatever are you saying?”
The comment was not missed at the tables of the Yuppies causing heads to shake and spectacles to be removed and replaced,
“Sorry” replied Jack, “Old Woodcock in the old days when he was a footslogger they called him Timber Dick”.
She smiled as Mrs Delwright arrived with goodies, which she put down.
Clearing the two tables adjacent then whispering with the yuppies, she left shaking her head.
“Well Anne" he said, "Woodcock has asked me to look into some mysterious deaths of some police officers, he says it is authorised from the top.”
“I would be working at Chester with a top experienced detective.”
“They want me to report at the annual conference as to the result of my investigations.”
“How wonderful Jack” said Anne tapping him on the shoulder,
“I knew there was something when I saw the hat go on and you flip it back as you did in the old days Jack the Hat investigates once again”.
He looked at her, and said, “I beg your pardon what’s this Jack the hat?”
Then he smiled.
“You do it Jack go for it, you just jolly well do it”.
“I have started my book” he replied.
“Oh you can do that anytime, as you say no one will ever read it”.
He looked at her and she realised what she had said, before she fell through her seat or flew off, she spoke again.
“Go for it”.
“I will do it if you think I should, I will ring him later”.
The morning mission completed, they left and completed their morning constitutional walk.
“Hello, Miss Kelly, can I help”?
“Yes my name is Jack Richards could I please speak with HMI Woodcock, please”.
“Ah yes Mr Richards, Mr Woodcock said you might call, I will put you through”.
There was a pause, then
“Hello Jack, will you do it”?
“Yes Ok, but remember the conditions, I have an office local in Chester nick, an experienced officer to help”.
“Thanks Jack I will put everything into motion, from my Chief, to all the Chiefs at the Forces and with Miles at Cheshire. Can you start next Monday morning?”
“I will,” replied Jack.
The call ended.
He sat back in his chair, looked at the open book on the screen, pressed save then closed the folder. He spoke to himself or to the friendly robin, which was now a visitor into his office for tit bits, he neither knew nor cared to which.
“That’s it, with the book for now at least”.
He pondered, in future when passing any library and on seeing all those books being read free, he would think of how the poor authors felt. All their work and effort being read and used for nothing.
“Would the readers do anything for the authors for nothing?”
He doubted it but that was not a problem for him for the time being at least.
He sat back, r
ocked in the office chair, he thought as his eyes closed, it does seems a strange set of cases, till Monday 9am however, he would kiss the pack good bye.
PART SEVEN
ONCE A COPPER ALWAYS A COPPER
Having parked his car and about to enter the building signed for all to see “Police Station”, he recalled how he had made this journey through a police station front door on more occasions in the last forty years than he would care to recall.
On this occasion, it was different, much different, he was the new boy on the block, not only to the area but also to the Cheshire Police and most importantly he was no longer a Superintendent, worse, he now carried the title civilian.
Having entered the front door the site was a familiar one. Notices upon the walls referring to all manner of police and public items, waiting members of the public, the answering of telephones and radios, dirty cups here and there but there was no signs or smells of smoking no bellowing clouds of blue haze nor soiled ash trays as there would have been years ago.
He noted of all the notices displayed there was another difference, none inviting recruits to the police not even the voluntary special constabulary.
From reports in the media there was now no such thing, cuts yes, recruiting no. When he had joined the police some forty years ago, all forces were massively under strength. Providing one was of good character, and could read and write to basic standards you were in, to quote a phrase.
He was startled when a voice asked, “Good morning sir, can I help you?”
The sudden voice made realise him he must have been day dreaming.
“Ah yes, I am expected, Jack Richards is my name”.
The lady displaying a badge signed, Ethel, Counter Clerk, she wrote down his name in the register on the enquiry counter headed, visitors, then looked up and asked.
“With whom do you have an appointment Sir?” Was her next question.
“With Chief Superintendent Craig Denton-Smyth” he replied.
“Can I be of help sir?” came a loud raucous voice.
This caused Jack to look up, seeing a tall slim man wearing the uniform and stripes of a sergeant, now leaning over Ethel and checking what she had written.
