Beth burst out laughing as Artemisia climbed up onto the bed and handed William her book. William quickly slipped on his dressing gown, as Beth jumped off the bed, pulled up her knickers and hurriedly put her blouse back on.
‘Just one chapter,’ said William, as Peter crept in through the open door and joined his sister on the bed. The twins snuggled up close to their father, who opened the book and began to read.
‘PC Plod was a good and kind policeman. He liked to help grandmas and grandpas when they crossed the road, and if he caught a little boy riding a bicycle who wasn’t wearing a helmet, he would tick them off, but not tell their parents, which made him very popular.’
Peter began to clap.
‘But sadly, no one back at headquarters,’ continued William, ‘gave much thought to promoting PC Plod and making him a sergeant.’
‘Why not?’ demanded Artemisia.
‘I expect we’re about to find out,’ said William as he turned the page, although his mind was elsewhere.
‘Plod was, as he’d told his wife Beryl often enough, happy to be one of life’s foot soldiers. Beryl didn’t agree with him. “You’re just as clever as Inspector Watchit, who always takes the credit for your ideas and then gets promoted,” she said. “That’s my job,” explained Plod. “It’s my responsibility to assist the public at all times while passing on any useful information to my superiors. In fact, Beryl, only today …” he said, just as the phone began to ring. Beryl picked it up and listened for a few moments before she said, “But it’s Fred’s day off.”
‘“Not any longer it isn’t,” said Inspector Watchit. “Tell Plod to get himself over to the manor house, sharpish. There’s been a burglary and a valuable pearl necklace has gone missing. Lady Doubtful wants the grounds searched while I question the staff.”’
William glanced up from the book to see that Peter had fallen asleep, but Artemisia was still hanging on his every word.
‘Time for bed, you two,’ said Beth.
‘No, no, no!’ said Artemisia.
‘Yes, yes, yes,’ said William, before picking them up, one under each arm, and carrying them out of the room. When he reached the doorway he turned and smiled at Beth.
‘I can’t wait for PC Plod to return,’ said Beth, as she once again slipped off her blouse.
? ? ?
‘I’d like to begin this meeting,’ said the commander, ‘by officially welcoming DI Ross Hogan to our ranks.’
The rest of the team banged the palms of their hands on the table.
‘Ross joins us not only with a formidable reputation as an undercover operative, but he previously served for four years as a Detective Sergeant with the murder squad. Invaluable experience that we can now put to good use.’
‘And can I say,’ interrupted Ross, ‘before I accept my Oscar for best supporting role, how delighted and honoured I am to be joining the team who were responsible for putting Miles Faulkner behind bars.’
‘Only to let him escape again from right under our noses,’ said William ruefully.
‘Not your fault,’ said Ross. ‘Two bent prison officers were involved in that little fiasco. You’ll be glad to hear they’ve both been transferred to Dartmoor, with no chance of an early release.’
‘But the second time Faulkner escaped was my fault,’ said William, ‘and I won’t rest until he’s back in Pentonville on an extended lease, with no break clauses.’
‘It shouldn’t be long before Ricardo Rossi appears on our radar screen,’ said Paul.
‘To that end,’ said The Hawk, ‘I’ve briefed the Spanish police and Interpol, and supplied them with details of Faulkner’s criminal record along with an identikit photo of what Neville would look like with a shaved head. But we’ll have to put Faulkner on one side for now as the time has come for us to concentrate on our new assignments. DCI Warwick, perhaps you can bring us up to date.’
‘As you are all well aware,’ said William, ‘the early stages of any murder inquiry are the most critical. The golden hour, that sixty-minute period immediately after the killing, is the best chance of recovering the evidence necessary to secure a conviction. CCTV, forensics, witnesses, and the likelihood that the murderer is still somewhere in the vicinity are a detective’s best weapons. But in each one of these cases,’ he continued, ‘we didn’t get the golden hour, or for that matter the silver or bronze. Truth is, these particular miscreants not only got clean away, but will now be convinced that their records have been gathering dust, in an unsolved crime cabinet, which they don’t realize we’re about to open.’