Bobby on the Beat

by Pamela Rhodes

  ‘Oh no, they’re all very polite mostly and I’ve never had any real trouble yet.’

  ‘Do you know what you’ll be doing here then?’ she asked, and began clearing away the plates.

  ‘A bit of patrolling, I think. I’ll soon find out, though, I suppose.’

  I felt very comfortable with Annie and Colin, and I got the feeling they were actually pleased to have some new company.

  That night, in their little guest bedroom, I slept like a bear in hibernation and didn’t remember a single dream. The alarm clock was ringing for some time in my ear the next morning before I could bring myself to completely wake up.

  When I got back to Redcar police station, the atmosphere seemed a little more welcoming. One of the PCs took me round the station, pointing out all the different rooms. John, he said his name was. He was a little bit younger than me and was full of energy, like an overgrown rabbit.

  ‘This is where we file all the reports, and that’s the radio room. The cells are down there, and that’s the Chief Inspector’s office. He’s not around much. At least we don’t have much to do with him. He’s all right, though.’

  ‘How long have you been here?’

  ‘Three years. For my sins. I started as a police cadet and then worked my way in. I do like it, though. We haven’t got any WPCs here normally so it’s a bit of a novelty your being here. A nice one, mind.’

  ‘What about your digs?’ I asked him. ‘Are they all right?’

  ‘I live above the station with three of the other lads, Steve, Malcolm and Tony. Nice lads. It’s our own little bachelor pad.’

  ‘Wow. No wonder the building’s so big.’

  ‘It’s a bit like being at boarding school sometimes. Silly pranks. You wouldn’t want to be there when some of us get back from town some nights, either. The things they talk about. But we mostly get along all right and play by the rules. Honest. You have to be with Ditchburn around, any rate. Anyway, let’s go into town and I’ll show you what goes on around here.’

  As we strolled through Redcar, we walked past the pier and the ballroom and John pointed out the main places to make a point. He showed me the big hall where they held summer shows every year and the amusements on the beach.

  We seemed to spend most of the day either giving directions to lost holidaymakers or moving on cars which had parked along the road and blocked the route. But although the duties seemed to be a bit limited, compared to what I’d been doing at Richmond, it was nice to take in the sea air and be somewhere different.

  The following day I was on the beat on my own, and I walked up and down the promenade for hours, directing people towards various amusements. I passed John coming the other way at one point and it was nice to see a familiar face, as I didn’t really know anyone in Redcar apart from Annie and Colin.

  Down on the beach, I said hello to the donkey man, who was helping a group up onto the animals. He was quite a dapper-looking chap, in a scruffy kind of way, with a tweed jacket, scarf round his neck and a moustache.

  ‘Morning. Nice day for it,’ he said.

  ‘Everything OK?’ I asked, thinking I ought to say something that sounded a bit official.

  ‘Aye. All fine and dandy here. You’ll not find much crime along this way. Apart from the crime of having fun that is!’ He laughed loudly at his own joke.

  I stopped for a while to take it all in, and marvelled at the way he handled all those donkeys and riders at once. He had created a clever rigging of ropes which tethered them all together as he pulled them up and down.

  There were four donkeys in all: a tiny little dusty-coloured one, on which a small boy sat pulling at the animal’s ears, and a slightly larger brown one, on which another little girl was screaming with fear and didn’t seem to be enjoying it at all. There were also two larger black donkeys; a couple of older girls in swimsuits climbed aboard them and giggled. The donkey man winked as he hoisted them over, and they all trooped off along the beach, their parents watching, feeling a mixture of relief at the chance to have a break and slight fear for their children’s safety.

  I made a point at a phone box just beyond the promenade, and, somewhat to my amazement, the phone actually rang. I picked it up a little nervously.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Rhodes?’

  ‘Yes, Sergeant.’

  ‘Good, you’re there. I need you to go up to Stanley Grove, there’s been a complaint about a dangerous dog. Some woman up there. Her baby, she said. Attacked. Do you think you can handle that?’

  ‘Yes. Of course, Sergeant. Right away.’

  So I left the seafront behind me and made my way into town with a brisk walk. I eventually found the house, after asking a few people directions. It was along a steep terrace of houses with different coloured doors, and a very flustered-looking woman answered, with three young children at her feet.

  ‘Oh, good. You’re here. Oh, I can’t tell you, constable. It was terrifying. They came running over and nearly knocked my Timmy clean over. They were three or four times the size of him. At least! Teeth everywhere. He could have been killed.’

  The woman’s voice was rising in panic.

  ‘Just take a few minutes to calm down, Mrs … ?’

  ‘Trent, Anna Trent. I … only will you be able to catch them? Because I’m afraid that if you don’t something awful’s going to happen. It wasn’t like this before the war. You just didn’t see them like you do now. But these days … And I don’t blame the dogs. They can’t help it. It’s the owners.’

  She was losing her breath and I thought she might hyperventilate at any moment.

  ‘If I could come in for a few minutes? Then I can take a statement, and we can try our best to find the animals.’

  As we sat down on a small sofa, the children all piled in and climbed on with us.

  ‘Sorry, do you mind, officer, only they’re all still a little shaken, aren’t you, babies?’

  ‘Mammy, why is that policeman a lady?’ asked the little boy, who was chewing the head off a toy soldier and squashing right up against my shoulder.

  ‘Timmy, put that thing down. You’ll swallow it. She’s not a policeman, she’s a policewoman. And don’t be rude. Sorry about him,’ she said to me. ‘They just say whatever comes into their heads, don’t they?’

  I took out my notebook and pencil, and waited for the children to settle down.

  ‘Can you tell me what happened then, Mrs Trent? With the dogs?’

  ‘Well, I was coming out of the post office. I have to admit I was quite distracted, what with the three of them, and then I was looking at my shopping list, and it was windy and, oh, everything seemed to be going wrong. You know how it is. Anyway, before I know it, there are these two enormous dogs, like wolves they were, foaming at the mouth, and running right towards us.’

  ‘Like the Hounds of the Espadrille,’ said Timmy, who had chewed the soldier in two and was now curled up at his mother’s feet, the headless infantryman lying at his side.

  ‘Baskervilles. Yes, it was like that. Something out of a horror film. They just kept running faster and faster, and I couldn’t even see an owner anywhere. The children were screaming, and I stood in front of them trying to ward those dogs away. But they just kept coming.’

  ‘Can you describe these animals? What colour were they exactly?’

  ‘I would say … they were dark brown. Brindle, is that what they call it? Brown with flecks of other colours in it. One had a white patch on its nose. One had a long tail, I think. It’s so hard to remember details, though. You know what it’s like. In the heat of the moment.’

  ‘And then what happened?’

  ‘Well, the animals lunged forward, and one ran right at Timmy and knocked him over. Then it put its paws on his shoulder and started licking his face. I thought he’d rip his head off. I really did. I thought, it’s only a matter of time before he has the poor child for lunch.’

  ‘Was he injured? Timmy?’

  ‘Not exactly. Shaken up, mind.
Oh, well, yes, actually he did get a nasty bump on the head, didn’t you, love?’

  ‘Yes. It was the size of a pickled egg, you said, Mam. Exactly right here,’ Timmy said proudly, parting his hair to reveal the bruise.

  ‘Anyway, I wasn’t going to hang around and wait for any more ravaging, so I picked him up and tried to pull the others behind me, and the shopping. And we ran all the way home, didn’t we? Not even stopping to talk to Mr Pringle. And then I rang you lot from the pay phone. And I haven’t stopped shaking since. And that was a few hours ago now.’

  ‘Well, you’re lucky you didn’t get bitten. And you say you have no idea who owns these dogs?’

  ‘None whatsoever. And if I hadn’t seen them in flesh and blood I would have sworn some supernatural force was behind it, they were that big. I wouldn’t be surprised if they belong to the devil himself.’

  ‘Right. Thank you, Mrs Trent. You’ve been … informative. But for now, all I can do is be on the lookout. Do let us know if you get any more information that might help us.’

  On the way back to the station I saw several dogs and wondered if they could be the offending creatures. But they all seemed to be trotting along quite innocently.

  As I walked back along the promenade, the beach itself was, by now, absolutely packed out with people. You could hardly see the sand, as the crowds sat among a colourful array of windbreaks, or used upturned fishing boats as hideaways or makeshift climbing frames.

  Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, a man in a loose jacket and open shirt, with a pipe in his mouth, stopped beside me and looked me in the eye.

  ‘There’s somebody at it back there. By the pier,’ he said after a while, and tossed his head back nonchalantly in that direction.

  ‘At what?’

  He laughed and continued along the front, then stopped and called back, ‘You’ll soon find out.’

  I scoured the beach for whatever it was someone was at, but couldn’t see anything out of sorts. Now I can admit to knowing exactly what he meant, of course, but at the time I honestly had absolutely no idea.

  I was looking forward to seeing Maureen Treadwell, the other WPC, who I’d met at home in Scarborough, but I didn’t bump into her for a few days as we never worked the same shift, and I began to wonder whether she was actually in Redcar at all.

  Eventually we met up. She was coming off her shift, on her way out of the door, and I was whizzing by on a bicycle my landlady had lent me, trying desperately to stop my skirt from flying up in the wind and keep my hat on. I very nearly toppled off when I saw Maureen.

  ‘Pam!’

  ‘Hello, Maureen. They told me you were here,’ I said, managing to stop the bike and hop off just before hitting the wall of the station.

  ‘Not the easiest mode of transport in a skirt and hat,’ she said and we laughed.

  ‘How’ve you been?’ I asked. ‘Where are you staying?’

  ‘I’m with two lovely ladies, Pam and June. They had an ad in for a lodger. They’re not sisters but sometimes I find it hard to tell them apart. Both have got the same curly hair and they even finish each other’s sentences. They also make the most delicious greengage jam on the planet.’

  ‘Sounds wonderful. I can’t stop for long. I’ve got to get in for my shift, and you know what old Ditchburn’s like. Such a stickler for punctuality.’

  ‘Isn’t he, though? Well, how about a dance, when you have an evening off, down at the Pier Ballroom? They’ve got a Mexican night! Can you believe? We should go maybe. We could wear hats!’

  The rest of my day was much like the previous, mostly strolling up and down the seafront. I kept an eye out for dogs that matched the description Mrs Trent had given me. There were no telephone calls in on my points, so after a few hours it was back to the station and then home. As I was leaving, climbing onto my bike, Sergeant Ditchburn called after me.

  ‘Miss Rhodes, before you leave. I almost forgot. Can you come in wearing plain clothes tomorrow? Something … nice, if you know what I mean. We’ve got a special job for you.’

  Sounds ominous, I thought. ‘Of course. What’s it all –’ But before I could finish he interrupted me.

  ‘You’ll find out the details when you get here. Tony’ll be with you so there should be no … danger, we hope.’

  Danger? What on earth could this job be?

  Annie did most of the cooking at my digs, but every now and then Colin would be seized by the desire to cook his signature dish, shepherd’s pie.

  ‘It’s the only thing I can cook,’ he said. ‘Other than that I don’t cook, I just heat. Milk, eggs, baked beans. That’s about it. But I do love making a good old shepherd’s pie. The way my mother used to. Her father was a drover. They were seriously poor people. But she always managed it. No matter what.’

  ‘He doesn’t like my shepherd’s pie,’ said Annie, without looking up from the newspaper.

  ‘It’s not that I don’t like it, as such. I just … prefer mine. You don’t cut the carrots up properly. And not enough onion. And the gravy. It’s all about the gravy. Has to be thick.’

  ‘Whatever you say, dear. I have to sit in here while he’s clattering about out there for hours. I tell you, it plays havoc with my nerves. Then he uses every single utensil he can find, and never washes a thing. He’ll be the death of me one day.’

  I couldn’t remember ever having seen my dad in the kitchen, except making the odd cup of tea. He just about knew where the kettle was and that was about it.

  ‘Anyway, there’s some left if you want to heat it up.’

  I had come in late from my shift, and even though it was nearly bedtime, I eagerly agreed. I never did quite get used to having meals around shift work. It was always either too late or too early for proper food, but you have to eat, don’t you? I wolfed the shepherd’s pie down. I had to admit it was very tasty.

  ‘So what did you get up to today, love?’ Annie asked as we sat round the wireless.

  ‘Walked along the seafront mainly. Past the man with the donkeys. The pier.’

  ‘Not much to it now, is there?’ said Colin. ‘I remember when it was hundreds of feet long. That was before the war, of course.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes. Used to stick right out to sea – miles of it, there was.’

  ‘It’s only, well, can’t be more than fifty feet now, isn’t that right?’ said Annie.

  ‘Forty-five. The Jerries wanted to land there at one point during the war, you know. They had it all planned. Then it got damaged beyond repair, terrible business. And that’s all that’s left, what you see now.’

  ‘How sad,’ I said.

  ‘Built in the 1800s originally. The pride of the north.’

  ‘He’s got this thing about piers,’ said Annie, standing up to go to bed. ‘Obsessed.’

  The following day, I stood outside the station in my plain clothes, wondering what activity Sergeant Ditchburn had planned for me. I was particularly wondering what he had meant by asking me to wear my ‘nice’ clothes. I’d chosen a smart blouse and skirt that I usually wore to church, and a light coat, and hoped that would suffice.

  ‘Ah. Here you are. Very good. Tony’ll look after you. Don’t worry, but we’ve had reports of this fella flashing, would you believe, in broad daylight, at women in the park. Not a very nice situation, I can tell you. Some of them were quite distressed.’

  ‘My goodness. How horrible. What am I to do then?’

  ‘You’re to act as what we call in the business a “decoy”. It’s nothing to worry about. Just walk up and down a bit, look your best. And we’ll see if we can lure the devil from his lair, so to speak.’

  When someone says there’s nothing to worry about, I always think there must be something very much to worry about.

  ‘Right. What do I do if I … see him?’

  ‘Tony here’ll be right behind you all the way. Any action from that department, and he’ll come in and take control of the situation. You’re just there to … attract him in,
as it were. Like a spider catching a fly.’

  The Sergeant, whose demeanour had been entirely serious throughout, had his back to Tony, who was smirking into his hand. By the end of the Sergeant’s speech, Tony couldn’t help himself, laughing out loud at the bit about the fly.

  ‘What’s so funny, Stokes?’ said the Sergeant, turning round sharply. ‘Women are at risk here. It’s a serious business. I put you on it because I thought I could trust you, but I can just as easily take you off the job, you know.’

  ‘Sorry, Sergeant.’

  ‘Right. Good. All in order. Rhodes, just make yourself look like you’re having an ordinary stroll. Don’t draw attention to yourself. I’m relying on you two to deliver on this one.’

  ‘Yes, Sergeant.’

  ‘It’s all right for you,’ I said to Tony as we walked away. ‘I’ve never even seen a man’s … with nothing on.’

  ‘He won’t be wearing nothing. I’m sure he’ll have a coat. They always do. Anyway, there’s a first time for everything.’

  I felt around in my coat pocket to make sure I had my whistle. That would be my only form of defence. I stretched my mind back to Sergeant Wooding’s ju-jitsu classes. Would any of that come in useful, I wondered. I think there was one move where you could break a man’s fingers if he attacked you, but I wasn’t sure I fancied that. Then I supposed you could always kick him where it hurts, if it came to it.

  ‘Why do men do things like that. Flashing?’ I asked after a while.

  ‘Can’t say the urge has ever struck me, I must say. Maybe they’re not quite right in the head. Frustrated? Who knows? You get all sorts, these days.’

  ‘Tell me about it,’ I said, thinking back to the bestiality case I had read about in Richmond.

  When we reached the entrance to the park, we agreed to split up and take different paths.

  ‘You go that way, into the park, and walk down the main drag. I’ll come in the side gate and keep a good way behind you.’

  ‘You won’t lose sight of me, will you? Promise?’