“Does this chair belong to you, sir?”
Sometimes when you laugh you come out with a burbling, hiccuping sound, like a hyena that’s choking to death on its food. You can hear it right now, welling up out of your shirt pocket, tinny and repetitive. It’s the ultimate custom ring-tone, as annoying as a very annoying thing indeed, except this particular piece of intellectual property isn’t owned by a bunch of gouging cunts.
“’Scushe me, tha’s my phone…” Your right hand is free, so you try and insert your fingers in your shirt pocket and play chase the mobie. Somehow in the past hour your hand has grown cold and numb, and your digits feel like frankfurters as the handset slips past them, giggling maniacally.
“Pay attention, sir. Did you take that chair from the shop? Who handcuffed you to the NO PARKING sign? I think you’d better blow into this meter, sir.”
She’s a sight easier to understand than the local Edinburgh Polis, which is no bad thing because the voice at the end of the line is anything but. “Jack? Hi, it’s Sophie! Are you alright? Are you busy right now?”
“No, not now—”
“Oh that’s a shame, I’m really sorry, but can you do me a favour? It’s Elsie’s birthday the Tuesday after next, and I was wondering—”
You breathe on the end of the cop’s torch as she holds it under your mouth, then swallow. Your sister is tweeting on the end of the line, oblivious, and you really need to get her off the phone fast. You force unwilling lips to frame words in an alien language: “Email me. Later…”
“But it’s important!” Sophie insists. “Are you alright Jack? Jack?” The plangent chords of her West Midlands accent form brassy patterns of light on the end of the torch, where an LED is glowing red, like the call disconnect button on your phone.
“I think you’d better come with me, sir.” She has a key to the handcuffs, for which you are duly grateful, but she wants you to put your phone away, and that’s surprisingly difficult, because Sophie keeps going on about something to do with your oldest niece’s birthday and Confirmation—hubby Bill wants Elsie and Mary to have a traditional upbringing—and you keep agreeing with her because will you please put the phone down, a Dutch cop is trying to arrest me isn’t a standard way to break off this kind of scenario. (If only families came with safewords, like any other kind of augmented-reality game.) Things are stuck at this point for a tense few seconds as you mug furiously at the officer, until she raises one index finger, then unlocks the handcuff from around the pole, twists your arm around the small of your back, wheechs the mobie out of your grasp, and has your wrists pinioned before you can say “hasta la vista.”
It’s shaping up to be a great weekend, make no mistake. And there’s always Monday to look forward to!
INTERLUDE: CIA World Factbook, 2017
SCOTLAND:
Location: 54 38 N, 1 46 W—Western Europe, occupying the northern two-fifths of the island of Great Britain.
FLAG:
Description: Sky-blue background with a white Cross of St. Andrew (diagonal) superimposed. As a member state of the EU, the EU flag may also be flown.
NAME OF COUNTRY:
Conventional long form: Republic of Scotland
Conventional short form: Scotland
Data code: SCO
Type of government: republic, EU core member state
Capitaclass="underline" Edinburgh
Independence: 1 January 2012
Constitution: 13 March 2011; adopted 1 January 2012 at formal independence
Legal system: based on Roman law and traditional Scottish law, substantially modified by indigenous concepts; compliant with EU corpus juris; compliant with EU
ECONOMY:
Economic overview: The economy is small and trade dependent. Offshore oil and gas, once the most important sector, is now dwarfed by industry, which accounts for 32% of GDP and 46% of export and employs 25% of the labor force. The financial sector is still large, and accounts for 24% of GDP and 40% of exports; Scotland is home to a disproportionate percentage of the former United Kingdom’s banks and insurance companies. Since independence and EU membership, the country has benefited from substantial EU assistance in developing its poorest regions. Inflation is low and there is a regular annual trade surplus. Unemployment remains a serious problem in regions formerly dominated by smokestack industry, and is a major focus of government policy.
Politics: Scotland is noted for its ingrained left-wing political bias and rejection of the liberal economic and conservative social policies encouraged south of the border—this tendency contributed to the breakup of the former United Kingdom. The ruling Scottish National Party is nevertheless providing aggressive assistance to inward-investing companies and has established an industrial development office to encourage small indigenous firms. The model pursued has been described as “following Ireland and Norway,” and Scotland is widely viewed as being one of the “Atlantic Tiger” group of small but healthy economies on the western rim of the EU…
SUE: Earning Overtime
You’ve been on scene for an hour already, your stress levels are rising, and it’s taken you this long to figure out just one thing: You’re going to be late for your evidence ’cast thanks to Wayne Richardson, Marketing Director and Prize Twat, who sits wittering and wringing his hands on the other side of his desk while you try to figure out how to investigate a crime that was committed by a radge bunch o’ faeries in a place that doesn’t exist. Your smartphone’s nagging you about hitting your transferrable overtime limit, and you’ve already blown your quota for time off in lieu this month; if this goes on you’re gonnae have to put it on unpaid hours and file for a time credit from Human Resources. It’s even threatening to snitch to the Occupational Health Department that your Work/Life Balance is out of kilter: If this goes on, it’ll be off to the compulsory Yoga and Aromatherapy classes with Stress Management for you. Inspector Mac will gently chide you in that calm and measured tone of voice that’s fifty times worse than being screamed at by a tanked-up ned: politely enquiring why you didn’t talk the idiot into going straight to SOCA instead of dropping his pants on your desk (and Mac’s by proxy). And speaking of neds, that’s exactly what there’s going to be one more of back on the streets if the sheriff fails to see your testimony in their browser when they come to that case.
Congratulations. You’ve got the investigation from hell to add to your desk load: one that’s probably going to run and run for weeks and months, suck in scarce resources from all over, and likely as not will never deliver a clean-up because the festering cunts who go in for high-order stock scams and use botnets in Pakistan can also afford silver-tongued barristers. So your clean-up metric is about to take a nose-dive in the shitter, and all because Wayne Richardson, Marketing Director, panicked and phoned 211 instead of listening to his boss and emailing his company lawyers.