Kind Hearts And Martinets Collection

Chapter 23

Jack recovered his wits in a narrow casualty bed, sounds of hubbub and rustling curtains, beeps, wires coming out of his chest and an irritating clip on his finger. Father O’Brien leaned over and they exchanged whispers, after which the Holy Ghost evaporated. A doctor entered as Jack was talking to himself, developing what Father Mike had related, into his own theory. ‘Hold up, Doc, I’m in the middle of a conversation.’ The doc asked him who the Prime Minister was. ‘Feckin Mackeroon and the slippery bleedin’ Blogg, I’m plotting their down fall this evening, so patch me up, Snotty, and get me out of here.’ Jack thought the doctor seemed more concerned about his outburst than his wounds. He could hear Mandy outside the curtains, a nurse explaining she had no authority here.

The doctor stepped out, ‘You are?’

‘Detective Superintendent Bruce,’ Mandy replied, struggling to be polite.

‘You were on the telly yesterday, Pugwash, what a hoot,’ the Doc said, chortling, and became preoccupied with who he was going to cure next. Mandy became civil, never a good sign, and clearly the doc picked up on this. ‘Mr Austin has a concussion, there’s no serious physical injury. We’ll keep him in overnight...’ the doc drifted.

‘Can I see him, please? Mandy asked.

‘Try not to disturb him, we’re waiting for a bed in the assessment unit.’

‘Thanks, Doc,’ and Jack imagined her sticking her tongue out to the nurse; will she never grow up? He closed his eye in mock sleep and applied his unwell face, sensed her presence, breathed in her perfume as she leaned into him, could feel her warm moist breath on his face as she kissed him on the lips. Jack pulled her down and gave her a deep kiss. She screamed, and the nurse and doctor came running. Jack lay there, cats and cream, Mandy spluttering, ‘This man’s okay, I want him in my office in an hour.’

‘Amanda,’ the Cheshire Cat.

‘What?’

‘Magic word?’

The doc defused the ticking bomb, ‘Superintendent, calm yourself.’

Jack patted the bed. ‘Amanda.’ The doctor left.

‘Jack, you gave me a shock...’ Her concerned face, and he liked it, made the moaning worthwhile.

She didn’t succumb to his smile, odd, he thought, so he resorted to police work. ‘They knocked me down and nicked my bike.’

‘What are you saying?’

Lovely face, and Jack had to fight the urge to kiss her again. ‘Get Frankie to run their ferry info, look for vehicles carrying bikes, small amounts of drugs smuggled within the frames of bikes, families taking bikes on holiday. Little and often can add up.’ He was excited and wondered if she understood. ‘I got this bike at Bazaar Bikes, would trust Ron with my life, but his assistant, Chas, was keen I didn’t take this particular bike, see?’ He saw she didn’t, so he reinforced the logic, ‘He didn’t know what a Scooby Doo was, see?’ Nope, ‘My garage last night? Looking for the bike, see?’

Mandy rubbed her face in thought, and Jack stopped so he could watch, multi-tasking not being a strong point. ‘Jeyziz fluid, Jack,’ Cod Irish, it warmed him, ‘shut-up while I think. I’m off, I’ll come and see you later.’

He put his hand on her arm. ‘Will you buggery, I’m coming with you, so make some calls,’ he stepped off the bed, ‘can you help me put me round the houses on?’ slipped the gown off, ‘oh, my pants as well.’

‘Jack, you’re revolting,’ swished the curtains and left.

Jack was reluctantly discharged, packing some atom bomb Paracetamol, and Mandy drove them back to the station, the briefing shifted to midday.

‘I wanted to speak to that little girl,’ Jack murmured; she looked at him as she drove, he was subdued.

‘I checked on her while you were arguing with the triage nurse. Gail"s with her and specialist officers are going to talk to the women and children, you will stay put in the station.’ Jack decided he could ignore this, life was about sifting; he had a blinding headache for which the supersonic, atom bombs had yet to deal with. Mandy, sensing he was ignoring her, asserted, ‘What if they were after you?’

‘Then why take my bike?’

Mandy butted into his elucidating, ‘Yes, I’ve spoken to Michael, he’s going to phone Alana. He’s worried, so do us all a favour, stay out of trouble and shut-up. I need to think.’

He turned fully so she could see his miffed face; she laughed and told him to feck-off. No appreciation for a sick man that girl, made a mental note to work on his I’m-not-well look.

I’m-not-well* * *

In the CP room, Connie and Frankie were working the oracle; Nobby, Jo-Jums, Paolo and Cyrano, heads down. Jack pulled up a wheelie chair and by rote spun one over for Mandy. By rote she wheeled it to where she wanted to sit, not squashed next to him.

‘Paolo, the interrogations?’ Jack asked.

Paolo gave a slightly Italianate, Gallic shrug, which Jack secretly admired, ‘Nothing, lawyered up, expensive suit, interesting, eh? We’ll charge them and hope for a good follow-up on the murders.’

‘When are you interviewing again?’

‘Soon.’

‘Mind if I sit in? Mandy’s not letting me out to play,’ Jack chastised himself for reacting like a spoilt child, but thought, she started it, and accidentally said, “Ner.”

‘Jo-Jums?’ Mandy resumed control.

‘Wallace and Kettle are at the printers, good Intel from KFC.’

‘Whoa, KFC?’

‘Komputers Frankie and Confucius, Jack,’ Jo-Jums said, matter-of-fact, Mumsey.

‘You’re making up nicknames?’

Jo, inured to Jack and all his states, continued, ‘We’re seeing if the printer can ID anyone.’

‘Cyrano?’

‘Following up the bikes, KFC are looking for regular number plates travelling to and from the continent and a tie-in with the CCTV. We’ve discussed an approach to Hogwarts but…’

Mandy interrupted, ‘Hogwarts?’

‘Bazaar Bikes, Jack calls the owner Ron Wheelslie,’ she explained.

‘Carry on...’ Mandy contemplated clumping Jack.

‘We’ve a tail on the assistant, Chas Joliffe, and surveillance on the shop. We think the scam is nicking bikes off the street, sending them over to the continent where they get filled with the stuff, to return with the families to be distributed, and all disguised as refurbished used bikes. Clever, and maybe not as small as you suggested, Jane.’

‘So, wait and see?’ Jack enquired, holding his head.

Cyrano moved an inch or two, excited. ‘Yeah.’

Jack carried on talking to Cyrano, waving his hands to indicate to everyone this was a thought bulletin, ‘I still think it isn’t just a drugs bust, just as I don’t think this is just trafficking, p**********n or p**n. My gut feeling is this is funding something. So let’s wrap-up what we have and get the extended enquiries underway, which leaves vice, Paolo, any word?’

Paolo swung his chair to look at Jack, ‘As expected, they want to make their own Biscuit enquiries, said you’d speak to them.’

Jack remained unfocused, tapped a tune with his fingers, guessed correctly, it was Doctor Who and smiled at his brilliance. ‘Paolo, let’s keep our powder dry; Jo-Jums, find out what you can, if we go in knob-handed, their antennae will start twitching.’

Doctor Who‘Okay, do you mean mob? You okay with that Jo?’ Mandy summarised.

‘Prefer knob,’ Jo replied. ‘What about the women and children, if they were off the radar, then why? People disappear every day, but it"s normally noticed, and local women and children, is that possible, and if it is, how? We need to take a deeper look at social services?’

Jack knew he was right to keep looking at Jo. ‘Softly, softly, vice and social services.’

Mandy pressed, ‘Jo, contact our team at the hospital, get some personal histories.’

There was a ping from KFC; their equipment had grown to four screens. Sensing the room was focused on them, Frankie and Confucius spun in their chairs, ‘Why don’t you tell the guys what we have, Connie?’ Frankie suggested.

Connie looked nervous, Frankie encouraging. ‘We set up program to run multiple trips, repeat car registrations, look for comparison where we have CCTV. We have match on two plates, large family cars, both have bike rack and three bike, we track, and they return to England, one tomorrow and other in four day.’

Jack was animated, ‘What d’you think, Cyrano?’

‘Put a team on the ferry, and when the passengers are off the car deck, we check the bikes. If we get a hit, I suggest a tracker on the vehicle and follow them when they disembark,’ Cyrano responded.

‘Registrations for owners?’ Jack asked.

‘Doing that, but we’ll likely find they are dodgy plates and stolen identities,’ Frankie answered.

‘Cyrano, you okay with manning, monitoring Hogwarts and this ferry business?’

‘I’m okay.’

Jack was energised. ‘Good, we may just be getting somewhere. Nobby, bring the wall up to speed then get on with whatever it was we agreed you would do, and forget what I said about a home life. That was then, this is now.’

Mandy quietly added, ‘Except you, Jane, you’re grounded, and if you can take tomorrow off, do that.’

‘You and me kid, and Top Deck shandy,’ Jack ejaculated.

Top Deck shandy‘Jane, deckchair, or home,’ Mandy was firm.

Jack shrugged, lollopy, ‘I want to see that girl and Martin.’

Mandy capitulated like she knew she would, ‘I’ve stuff to catch up on, then I will take you to the hospital, and the vet, you cannot be trusted on your own.’

‘I’m interviewing the skinheads, you’re welcome to join me, Jane,’ Paolo suggested.

‘I will.’

Jack’s rising esteem was deflated by Frankie, ‘Jane, your new phone.’ Frankie held it up to whistles, an iPhone. ‘It’s synched and ready to go. I’ll give you a quick demo.’

Jack felt sick, hated learning new technology, the phone was synched and he was sunk.