‘NO f*****g WAY, YOU DOZY f*****g COW.’DCI Blundell had been arrested after an investigation into his alleged corruption and a subsequent dawn raid on his home. Two detectives from an anti-corruption team specifically set up by the West Riding Constabulary based in Wakefield accompanied by five uniformed officers, had hammered heavily on his front door and repeatedly rang the doorbell.
‘What the f**k is going on?’ shouted an angry red-faced Blundell, still in his pyjamas and dressing gown, his thinning hair tousled and sleep still evident in his blood-shot eyes. ‘What the f**k d’you mean making a racket like this at this hour of the morning?’
Blundell was a tall, heavily built man with a beer belly, greying hair, a walrus moustache, extremely bushy eyebrows and the broken veins of a heav
