"Yes, I know him." I certainly did know him.
I made us both some tea. No point in diverting your DC off police work just to make the tea. Besides, he made it too strong. I rang old Wilf. I had a faint hope about what it might be.
"Hello, Charlie," he said. "What time are you supposed to start these days?"
"We've got it sussed, Wilf. Mondays I start about ten, other days I come late. What can I do for you?"
"A lady friend of ours is worried about the security of her home. She's a friend of Betty's from church. I said I would arrange for someone to pop up and give her some advice, if you know what I mean."
"No problem, Wilf. I'll pass it on to the crime prevention officer."
"Anybody can ring the crime prevention officer," he replied testily. "I told her that I would put one of my best men on to it."
His voice dropped to a whisper. "Charlie, this is one that I think you shoulder handle yourself."
I could almost feel and see the nudge-nudge, wink-wink. "Well, thank you for that information, Officer Trumble," I said in a loud voice.
"I'll attend to it personally, as soon as possible."
"The address is the Old Vicarage, on the Top Road. Near St. Bidulph's.
It's Mrs. Wilberforce, she's a widow. Don't dash off, Betty wants a word."
"Hello, Charlie. How are you keeping?" she asked.
I had to put my hand over the mouthpiece for a moment. Sparky was comparing his tea unfavourably with sheep's urine. "Oh, you know, a policeman's lot is not a happy one. Listen, Betty, are you up to your old tricks again?"
It was Betty's vocation in life to see every single man, and me in particular, happily married. "Don't know what you're talking about," she laughed, then added: "I've just made a casserole and there looks to be rather a lot. I don't suppose you are eating properly, so would you like to come for your tea?"
That was the hope I'd been holding.
I checked out the BMW number with the police national computer. It belonged to a man with a very Chinese-sounding name who lived in Heckley.
"If that can wait half an hour I've got somewhere for us to go," I said to Sparky.
"What about that call at ten?" he asked. It was nearly ten now.
"I don't want to talk to him. If we go now we'll miss him."
In the car I told Sparky about the youths on the bikes. I felt certain they were watching the Chinaman. We went to the address for the BMW.
It was a Chinese restaurant and take away more or less what I had expected.
"He takes his money to the post office every day. But on a Monday morning he has all Saturday's and Sunday's takings to check in. A nice little haul for someone."
"Are you going to alert him?" asked Sparky.
I thought for a few seconds. "No," I decided, 'let's stick our necks out."
"What about his neck?"
"His neck is already stuck out."
When we arrived back at the station Detective Sergeant Tony Willis was in. "Bloke called Truscott been after you, Charlie. Said it was personal. He sounded frantic. I told him to ring back at two."
"Well, if he rings again tell him I'm not in, even if I am. I don't want to talk to him."
"It sounded important to him that he spoke to you," he said.
"It's important to me that I don't," I snapped.
I was angry and it showed. The two of them were quiet for a while, then Sparky chipped in: "You sound upset, boss. It's not like you to give someone the runaround."
He was right. I give the impression of being easy-going, but I set standards. I hadn't a clue what the man could want, I only knew that he had come close to ruining my life. I was with friends, so I said quietly: "When my wife left me she went off with someone called Rudi Truscott. He was a lecturer at the art college. I assume it's the same one. I don't know what he wants and I don't want to know."
It had been eight years, and I'd thought the hurt had gone, but it hadn't. It just lurked in the undergrowth, waiting for something to come along and disturb it. I tried to make light of it. "He probably wants me to get him off a parking rap," I said.
It was later that afternoon when he caught me. Tony answered the phone. "I'll put him on," he said, and passed me the handset. He looked uncomfortable that he had refused to lie for me. Not a bad quality in a policeman, I suppose.
"Hello, Rudolph, what do you want?" He hated being called Rudolph. He liked to be Rudi to everyone, just as I liked to be Charlie, good old Charlie, everybody's friend.
"Charlie, thank God I've caught you, I've got to see you." He really did sound frantic.
"Why?" I asked.
"I think someone wants to kill me."
"In that case, I'm on their side."
"When can I see you, Charlie?"
"I work long hours. But you know that, don't you?"
He ignored the jibe. "I don't want to come to Heckley. Can you meet me halfway? Say you will, please, Charlie, I don't know who else to turn to."
I've always been a sucker for a sob story. But maybe I just wanted to see him squirm. He certainly sounded scared. "Where are you?" I asked.
"Scotland."
"Scotland! You want me to come halfway to Scotland?"
"Do you know the museum at Beamish?"
I'd heard of it, but never been.
"There's a pub near the entrance called The Shepherd and Shepherdess.
Will you meet me there?"
"Okay, I suppose so," I told him.
"Tomorrow?"
"No chance, make it Wednesday, for lunch. Your treat."
He expressed his eternal gratitude and rang off.
"Bad news?" enquired Tony.
"No, just the opposite," I said, faking a grin. "He reckons someone's trying to kill him." I jumped to my feet. "I'm off to fetch my car.
Then I've got places to go and deeds to do. Make sure somebody watches the Chinaman in the morning."
"Do you want a lift?"
"No thanks, I'll walk."
As I strode through the yard a patrol car was just leaving, driven by WPC Kim Limbert. The chance of a ride with Kim was more than I could resist, so I waved her down. Kim came to Britain from Guyana as a very small child. Her parents believed she was gifted and wanted to give her the chance to realise her potential. She didn't disappoint them, doing well at school and going on to pick up a degree in law. Then she ruined it by joining the Force, but now she was on the promotion ladder. She was also six feet tall, and could have graced the catwalk of any fashion house she chose, had that been her inclination. I asked her to take me to the garage, then said: "Looking forward to leaving us, Kim?"
"No, not really, sir. I've enjoyed being at Heckley, it's a good crew.
But I'm in the job for promotion, so I'll have to move around."
Sir. There it was again. It was even more hurtful when a beautiful young woman used it. Why couldn't she call me Charlie, or…
Snufflebum? I said: "You'll be okay. There's some mean hombres in the city, but you'll deal with them."
"No doubt my fellow officers will look after me."
I smiled wistfully. "It's your fellow officers I'm talking about. You know where your Uncle Charlie is if you have any problems. Just drop me off on the corner."
The car was ready for collection so I found myself way ahead of schedule. Ah, well, a faint heart never fondled a fair maiden.
Besides, if I called on Mrs. Wilberforce it would give me something to tell Wilf and Betty over dinner. I pointed the bonnet up the hill towards the Top Road and the ancient buttresses of St. Bidulph's.
Mrs. Wilberforce was in the garden. She was going on for my age and almost as tall as me. Her hair was fair and a line of curls fell across her forehead, like you see on Roman statues. The word Junoesque seemed appropriate. I could imagine her in her youth, leading the Cheltenham Ladies' College hockey team on to the field, and being chaired off shoulder-high after scoring the winning goal in the final chukka. She might have been dressed to talk to the WI at the Albert Hall if it hadn't been for the gardening gloves. I showed her my card the way I'd seen Philip Marlow do it.