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Miles phone rang, it was Denton-Smyth.

“I am awfully sorry Chief but due to a sudden family bereavement my wife and I will be unable to attend the races today”.

“I am sorry to hear that Craig” said the Chief

“Well it can’t be helped Sir, in fact I was thinking of taking a few days compassionate leave, it being the wife’s mother”.

“By all means, get your Inspector to stand in for you”.

“I would rather not Sir; it is Miss Ling she has the rank but no experience”.

“Oh yes I see, who will you get at such short notice?"

“I will get Sergeant Striker to cover. I realise he is only a sergeant but he is qualified to Inspector I was putting him up for promotion on the next board anyway, I could make him acting”.

“Yes do that Miles, you can quote me, make him up to acting Inspector whilst you are away, that is, if you are certain about this Inspector Ling not coping”.

“I am sure Sir, have you heard the gossip about Inspector Scott-Ling her flashing her tattoos in unmentionable places”.

“I did hear but thought I would speak to her about it myself Miles when I next see her, no need for you to bother with it”.

“OK Chief, I am sure it is correct to put Striker unofficially in command especially it being the races”

“You know with all the trouble that can occur we need someone who can handle such situations especially if violence is involved.”

“I wouldn’t want to risk having this female officer in charge”.

“I understand Craig, imagine we, that is my wife and our friends being involved and from what you say had to rely on this Inspector Scott-Ling”.

The call ended, Striker was pleased to be told he was promoted acting inspector, albeit temporarily, seems promotion was definitely on the cards.

It was a very sunny and pleasantly warm Saturday afternoon, for the first Chester Races of the season.

Doris Scott-Ling left her office and went down stairs, on arrival her friend and supposed mentor Sergeant Striker saw her and instantly said.

“Ling, I am now acting Inspector, seems you have nothing to do, take this new probationer around the city centre, roust some of those bloody buskers all that noise and begging, you have my permission to kick their arses.”

“Ok” she replied. “Come on son what is your name?”

“Chris Thomas” he replied

“Come on Chris let us take a walk. It is race day you may see some funny costumes”.

“Oh” said Striker, “be on your best behaviour, the Chief Constable is about, his wife and her lady friends have a charity stall in the main street, its race day anything could happen”.

She nodded but said nothing, turned and left.

Tarporley Ladies Circle were holding their annual charity day, selling balloons and various small-donated items in the main street.

“It should be a good day for the ladies Miles,” said Rupert Everett the Chief Executive of Cheshire Council, his wife Fiona was this year’s chairperson of the Tarporley Ladies Circle.

“Indeed, yes indeed”, replied Miles Ridwell hoping to forget his role as Chief Constable of Cheshire, at least for today.

It would be useful later when he and Everett arrived at the races as it had been the custom for years to send the Chief Constable four free admission tickets, not only that but a late free lunch in the members marquee.

All was going well, the gifts were quickly disappearing from the stall and there seemed every likelihood the minion members of the circle would manage the remainder of the day alone whilst the two leading ladies accompanied by their husbands could get off to the races.

“Hi Wack, you there, the lady in the stupid hat”.

All at the charity table looked up to see a man one in a group obviously of the minion type of race goers. The man was wearing a Santa outfit and the worse for drink.

Another man was wearing a costume of a horse, which as he walked appeared to give the impression he was riding it.

Miles whispered to Rupert, “There is always one”

The group of men strode over and began to handle all the charity goods some men throwing items up and down as if they were juggling except that all the items were hitting the ground.

“I say lady, give me that hat?”

With that, Santa took the hat, pulled off his hood and put on the hat to loud laughter.

“I say” called Everett “that hat cost me five hundred pounds, give it back immediately”.

Santa looked up, took off the hat then rammed it onto the head of poor Mrs Fiona Everett forcing it over her eyes.

He swung, around, grabbed Rupert by the front of his coat and head butted him, causing the victim to instantly sink to his knees, blood spurting from his nose.

Most of the group of yobs walked off, taking and throwing items as they left, but the Santa man and two others remained then, seeing all the many people now standing around, including many Chinese tourists who were filming the whole affair as Chinese tourists do.

“Good heavens” cried Mavis, “Miles do something”.

 He looked up and saw two police uniforms approaching.

At first he was relieved, was it Sergeant Striker?”.

But then, he sighed, it was Dopey Doris, “oh” he thought, “I shouldn’t say that”.

In any event, it was too late Inspector Scot-Ling and the newly arrived probationer the name of whom he no longer recalled both arrived.

“Hell” thought Ridwell, “I distinctly recall Chief Superintendent Denton-Smyth assured me he was going to get her to patrol with an experienced man.

 What could she do with a probationer?”

“What the hell was he going to do?”

Especially if those standing around recognised him.

“Oh blast all those Chinese potential filmmakers, it would all be on you tube by the evening, Christ he thought “why me”?

“I say, you three, calm down,” said Inspector Doris

“Calm down my arse hole, you an Inspector you are a fucking Dink,”

“Come here you bitch”, Mr Santa was on a roll.

He grabbed forward but as he did so, she grabbed his arm, simultaneously hitting his elbow so that it bent with a crack.

 She struck him under the chin with her knee, he was unconscious immediately.

His two associates looked on, the one, a man with bright ginger hair displaying a badge, pulled a knife.

There was a gasp from the Tarporley members, many were thinking, “This was not my idea, it is down to Mavis and Fiona”.

  The host of onlookers stood in silence whilst the Chinese tourists continued to film.

Ginger top walked towards the officers drawn knife in hand, the probationer, not knowing why he had joined in spite of his mother’s advice.

Ginger suddenly lunged forward but then looked up and then down as the lady Inspector kicked the weapon from his hand.

 The knife shot up into the air, then descended, landing sticking into the tabletop, its handle still quivering, the table now containing hardly any goods.

Ginger was not able to stare in amazement long for a foot struck him in the stomach causing him to crumble to his knees.

The third man thought he would have better luck and so charged with brute force towards the Inspector who was still standing, calm and smiling, as he came forward she spoke,

 “Never meet force head on rather side step, using the force against itself”.

With that as the thug came with arms reaching out to grab her she put out her leg tripped him up, simultaneously she bent down so that he landed on her back she flipped him over and as she rose, she struck him a rabbit punch across the throat.

All three men now lay prostrate on the ground.

She stood over all three men lying on the floor, no trouble to anyone.