by Harry Nankin
THE CASEBOOK OF A DETECTIVE
Author
Harry Nankin
Jack Richards, affectionately known as Jack the Hat is a retired detective from New Scotland Yard. He has an impeccable record and detection and clear up rate second to none.
He retires north to Cheshire but he is recalled to duty from, time to time to assist the local provincial police forces with complicated cases.
He is assisted by Inspector Scott-Ling who being a serving officer she has the necessary powers of arrest, search and entry.
She joined the police service on leaving university on the direct entry senior officer scheme. Having no practical experience she was ridiculed by long serving officers.
There is some animosity at Jack being called in and so he works not from the police station but from the police museum, an old police station retained in its original décor and fittings.
The duo have from time to time investigated a number of serious cases with one a hundred percent clear up rate.
On this occasion Jack is called to give a lecture to a group young police officers on their initial detective training course.
He is introduced to the course then relates some narratives of some very unusual cases he has dealt with.
.
All Books are Copyright
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrievable system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission of the copyright owner
The events, places and characters in this book are fictitious and it is not intended the story should bear any resemblance to reality in the police or military services or any incident or of any person living or dead. If so this is coincidental.
CHAPTER ONE
THE DETECTIVE
Tuesday October 1st 2013
Looking through some old case papers Jack chanced upon this unusual case, a very tragic affair, he could vividly recall the scene.
A young man aged only twenty three years of age was seated in a chair, his army uniform stacked ready for handing in. He could hear the footsteps of his escort to the military prison walking down the corridor.
The three Military policemen a sergeant and two corporals were laughing whilst looking for room 13. There was a loud bang, just like a shot being fired.
This caused them to stop, look at each other with a grimace, without a word spoken they now scurried if not running along the corridor.
The Sergeant opened the door only to discover the gruesome sight of their prisoner to be. He was slumped over the table. His right arm hanging down with blood still pouring from his severe head wound. A glance down saw the life blood running down his civilian clothes and trickling onto the floor. They had been there but missed it, their prisoner was dead. A blind man could see it.
One of the officers ran for medical assistance but it would be to no avail the convict to be was dead; it was clearly obvious seeing the massive hole in the top of his young head.
Jack stopped and hesitated, “yes,” he thought, “I recall it now the case of “The man who bears no arms.”
There was no time now to recall anything further that would be for later during his forth coming talk to the budding detectives.
Those unsuspecting young officers awaiting the lecture from a man they had been told was a master detective, a maestro in the art of solving crimes. “If, heaven forbid” he thought “they had been updated fully by their instructor or one of Jack’s old colleagues they would have been made aware who he really was.
Had the audience had access to his personal file as it was then known and not a CV used in this modern world, they would have read. Jack Richards was a retired detective of thirty years experience having served at New Scotland Yard in London. The elite force of detectives, renowned worldwide for their skills in dealing with all manner of serious and unusual crimes.
Since his retirement he is still sadly missed in police circles but fortunately for them, he has agreed to be recalled from time to time to review and investigate crimes the current officers were unable to solve.
There have been several such cases but possibly the most famous were those of The Six Dead Cops. Several police officers all young, fit and healthy serving in different police forces thus, apparently unknown to each other. They were found dead on duty. Initially they were believed to be cases of natural causes. Jack investigated. Discovering a very different answer.
Once recalled, he normally worked from an office in the Police Museum in Chester, the picturesque city in the county of Cheshire. He had retired to the village of Tarporley not far from the city. A well to do area settled recently by the better off who have earned the title “The Cheshire Set.”
He had retired there to be near the family of Anne, his wife and only friend.
The museum had been an old police station when active and since then had been retained in its original form for police public relations purposes not forgetting the education of children in police history and current good police/public relations.
The museum with its original rooms, furniture and decor had an ideal atmosphere for the old investigator and his assistant Doris Scott-Ling a serving Chief Inspector.
She was one of the new breed of senior police officers, appointed initially direct from university but with high rank. Unfortunately like others of this new breed with no practical police experience. She and those like her were highly qualified in law having had the benefit of a university education but had done no actual outside or street police work.
Doris, a small, young woman of mixed race, her mother was Welsh, her father Chinese. She had proved in spite of her stature she had other and occasionally life saving skills, that of self defence. When the going suddenly got tough she certainly got going.
Today was not a day for investigations but of education as Jack was about to fulfil a promise to the Chief Constable of Cheshire, Miss Joanne Watkiss, QPM.
That promise had been to visit Cheshire Police Headquarters and to enlighten a course of budding young detectives with some of his experiences in dealing with the more unusual but serious crimes he had dealt with over the years.
This was the very day he thought, as he arrived in the foyer at the “Big House” as headquarters was called by the rank and file.
Tom, the security guard was on duty at the front desk, he looked up and smiled. He now recognised the famous or infamous old man who had just walked in. Wearing his familiar raincoat and trilby hat. Jack the Hat was now becoming a personality, depending which side of a cell door you lived.
Once a figure of fun in police forces north of London but not within the Metropolitan Police where for Jack over many years it had been his old and long time stamping ground.
He was becoming ever more known and respected in the north of England, despite his eccentric ways and mode of dress.
Wearing the old raincoat and trilby hat this had initially made him a figure of fun. However, as northern officers had attended courses, meeting officers from London a different view emerged. Hearing of, and occasionally locally witnessing his successes whilst retired there was fast becoming a view of understanding and respect for the old man with his catch phrase, “Attention to detail.”
Although he himself had not noticed any change, had he have done so he would have realised, as he approached doors, they were opened for him. Those who passed by not only smiled and nodded but included the word, Sir as they passed the time of day.
“Good morning Mr Richards, Sir,” said Tom the civilian security guard, an ex guards Sergeant. “If you might just take a seat I will call someone to escort you.”
“Thank you” rep
lied Jack as he sat on the nearest chair to the door.
Wendy the telephonist peered over the counter then made a discreet call to Isobel her friend in accident records, “He is here if you would like to come and see him, Yes, Jack the Hat, he is here. Yep, he is wearing the hat and got the old raincoat on.”
She replaced the telephone.
As Jack sat awaiting his escort he paid no heed to the two young faces peering and giggling in the communication room in front of him. Neither did he notice the telephones clicking as the fitted camera took his photograph.
“Hello and good morning Mr Richards,” came a voice.
Jack looked up he recognised the voice and face from his visit some week ago, Inspector Dean Winton the officer in charge of the detectives training course. Jack stood and walked over, they shook hands.
“Please, follow me Mr Richards, they are all anxiously waiting.”
“Yes, I’ll bet,” thought Jack; he recalled their uninterested faces the last time he had seen them, in court as observers the murder appeal case of Blanche Wright.
After traversing several flights of stairs and corridors they eventually arrived in the designated lecture room.
It was far different from those in which he had attended such courses.
In the old days the buildings were normally old army huts converted, with painted brick walls and furnished with desks and chairs just as in the old schools.
This room was modern, well illuminated with chairs arranged in a semi circle, each having wide arms for elbows.
A swing around shelf upon which to place some type of personal computer device, the details of which still remained unknown to him.
Entering the room he saw there were around thirty officers about two thirds male and one third female. In his day if there had been even one female officer that would have been unusual.
At that moment a voice called, “stand please,” it was Inspector Winton, in his day it would have been attention, no matter all stood, not for him, Jack, but for another and far more important person. Chief Constable Watkiss herself had arrived.
“Please be seated,” she called.
The class sat and waited what was about to come forth.
“Ladies and gentlemen I am pleased introduce to you today Mr Jackson Richards. He has kindly agreed to come along today to relate to you the art of investigating crime. Believe me even in these days of technology it is still an art. Along with that goes a fair measure of experience, attention to detail and enthusiasm.”
There were smiles and heads looking around.
She continued, “I would be remiss if I failed to just say a few words as to the background of Jack Richards, also known as Jack the Hat, looking forward at your guest today the reason for the nickname will strike you as obvious.”
Jack was still wearing his trilby hat though he had removed his raincoat.
“Jack Richards retired recently from the Metropolitan Police at New Scotland Yard where he had served for forty years. Most of his service, though not all was investigating crime, from the petty to the most serious recorded in British criminal history.”
“I would be doing him a disservice if I failed to mention something he will not. He can if he so wished, proudly boast that he is the holder of The George Cross, you will be aware it ranks equal to the Victoria Cross but for civilians. I will not go into the details save to say Jack rescued a child in circumstances of peril with total disregard for his own safety. He is also the holder of the Queens Police Medal, not for services rendered such as in my own case but once again he can proudly display the all important letter “G” for Gallantry after his name, I will not add further than to say it was another case of rescuing a child from a house when other help had failed.”
There was spontaneously clapping and calls of “here, here.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, I implore you to pay close attention to Jack Richards, his investigative skills, and methods used in the cases I suspect he is just about to relate to you will be of immense value to you. I might best sum up by quoting The Lord Chief Justice himself who said, “Jack Richards has the touch of the master’s hand.”
“Over to you Mr Richards.” She turned, did not leave as Jack had expected but rather she took a seat within the class, he had not anticipated that. Had he have been more cynical he may have thought she was hoping to learn something.
Jack put down his coat, all waited but his hat was not removed, this caused a giggle here and there.
The lecture finally began.
“I would commence by stating my recollections to you that this is the first occasion I have given such a talk, I am not therefore an expert in oration, you will see I have no notes to refer to.”
“Some years ago my mother passed away and an old school book of mine was discovered, within its pages was a short essay which read. My name is Jack Richards, I am fourteen years old, and when I leave school in the summer term I want to be a policeman. It is from this basis I would start my talk to you today.”
“I could not become a police officer for some five years until I was nineteen years old; in fact I joined the police service on my nineteenth birthday.”
“The initial training in those days encompassed not only law but discipline. Recruits were required to march, salute and have a turn out similar to those in Her Majesty’s forces, polished boots, a crease in the trousers and no stains on the tie. To always wear headgear when on outside duty, cap or helmet.”
“To, refer to members of the public as Sir or Madam to stand when a senior officer entered the room.”
“To show respect, when meeting magistrates and similar, giving them a salute.”
“Following as a guide line, the hospital rule of no running except in cases of fire or haemorrhage.”
“I see a young man at the back of the class pondering as to the importance of these things to a police officer. I will give some examples.”
“You are giving evidence in court; the defending solicitor accuses you of rudeness and indiscipline. On the bench the magistrates are local. He or she recalls seeing you in the town, you speak, addressing them as Sir or Madam, you may even salute, all costing you nothing. Dare I say you may even stop and wave them or some other aged person out after they have parked their car nose in on a town street? When the magistrates retire the accusation of the lawyer is discussed. One or more may reflect how they have seen you conduct yourself whilst on duty. It may be the deciding factor in them judging to believe the evidence you gave against what the defending solicitor alleges.”
“The no running rule in hospital is an example of the general rule of safety first, but in cases of paramount emergency risks have to be taken, one judged against another. So it is with the police, the ability and skill to judge one circumstance against another.”
A well turned out officer shows a pride in him or herself a scruffy individual displays no pride. I can bet anyone here if that scruffy officer is observed he will have no pride in his work. If an officer has no pride in his work he will be lax in his attention to detail. He will likely skip over things both in the enquiries made and the clerical work that follows, seemingly unimportant initially but may prove to be something that might win or lose a case.
Lack of discipline learned from the marching and saluting, the waiting on parade for an age, the keeping of a point on time, a point being an appointment to meet with another officer.
“Imagine, you are a detective. You are on an operation you are told to stand at a given point, you may not be told why as a disciplined service you are expected to take and follow orders.”
“You get fed up you wander off, you fall asleep or some other negligent action. The criminal comes your way or something happens you should have witnessed, you miss the villain or the evidence you should have seen. This might well cause the loss of a case or a serious crime to go undetected. Worse, a violent criminal who needs locking up for the safety of the public escaped and commits more harm, injury or death. This may reflect upo
n your indiscipline.”
“Young officers such as yourselves are no longer trained in these matters but the incident and points I raise will continue to happen and on your watch.”
“I would therefore commence my talk by pointing these matters out as a very important grounding. Take a pride in yourself and your duties and be disciplined, accepting others of senior rank may have more information than you, accept this and follow orders. Recall the old saying if you have a moan or complaint, do the job and complain later.”
“I served my two years on the beat and then moved outside London and spent some time working a rural beat. These early years gave me a real grounding into life for the ordinary copper dealing with ordinary people in ordinary situations.”
“Possibly one of the most important lessons was the skill to communicate with Mr and Mrs Ordinary public. As budding detectives it is vital for you to have one thing in mind, from what I have witnessed in recent years this attribute has been lost. One should never forget today’s victim or even accused or wrongdoer may well be tomorrow’s vital witness. A whole case may depend upon the evidence of such a person. It is a vital necessity to treat people with that in mind.”
“When reporting offenders for crime or other offences one should judge the situation as to the circumstances of what someone has done. Not where they live, their background, station in life or a title they hold and certainly not what bank balance they have. Believe me officers this will not be easy, pressures will be placed upon you.”
A hand went up, Jack looked, it was an officer with a smirk, Jack awaited a low ball but said, “Yes officer?”
“Can you give an example from your own experience of this reporting or arresting for what a person might have done rather than who they are?”
Jack was waiting, all faces upon him save for Chief Constable Watkiss who was shaking her head and had a frown.
