Kind Hearts And Martinets Collection

Chapter 1

BATTLE OF ACACIA AVENUE

BATTLE OF ACACIA AVENUEPOLICE - where were they?

Bernie Thompson: Portsmouth Evening News, crime reporter.

Bernie Thompson: Portsmouth Evening News, crime reporter..Four youths were injured in a gang incident last night in the usually peaceful suburb of East Cosham. George Rattle, Chairman of the Local Community Policing Committee, said, “The fight was vicious and people were scared. Why did it take 15 minutes for the police to respond?”

Four youths were injured in a gang incident last night in the usually peaceful suburb of East Cosham. George Rattle, Chairman of the Local Community Policing Committee, said, “The fight was vicious and people were scared. Why did it take 15 minutes for the police to respond?”A Police spokesman said, “The response time is under investigation.” An anonymous but reliable police source said, “We"re sorry residents felt threatened, but what do they expect with Government cutbacks forced on an already stretched Police service? If it is any comfort to the residents, who returned a Tory MP, we are all in this together.”

A Police spokesman said, “The response time is under investigation.” An anonymous but reliable police source said, “We"re sorry residents felt threatened, but what do they expect with Government cutbacks forced on an already stretched Police service? If it is any comfort to the residents, who returned a Tory MP, we are all in this together.”The Chief Constable commented, “The Police do not comment on Government policy.” When pushed if his force was under strength, he said, “The force struggled with all it was charged to do even before the cutbacks.”

The Chief Constable commented, “The Police do not comment on Government policy.” When pushed if his force was under strength, he said, “The force struggled with all it was charged to do even before the cutbacks.”The Head of the Community Policing Committee for Portsmouth, Captain John V. Littleman RN, said, “The Police may be understaffed, but in-line with Government policy to involve more volunteers, good people are helping in admin posts, freeing up officers for frontline work.” He has called a special meeting of the committee, made up of senior police officers, Councillors, and volunteers like himself. “Government policy is working,” he said, “and being implemented with full vigour in |Portsmouth.”

The Head of the Community Policing Committee for Portsmouth, Captain John V. Littleman RN, said, “The Police may be understaffed, but in-line with Government policy to involve more volunteers, good people are helping in admin posts, freeing up officers for frontline work.” He has called a special meeting of the committee, made up of senior police officers, Councillors, and volunteers like himself. “Government policy is working,” he said, “and being implemented with full vigour in |Portsmouth.”* * *

‘Jane, my office,’ and turning on her heel, Detective Superintendent Amanda Bruce squeaked across the polished floor of the community policing room, jerked the door open, and disappeared along the short corridor and into her office at the front of the police station.

Jane continued his reverie, induced, he says, by his cycle ride into work on a glorious late spring morning. At 59, Detective Inspector Jack Austin felt his morning assertion (he meant exertion) due to his competitive nature, racing often unaware opponents, generated a creative frivolity, his juice moment, referring to his brain activity, not the sweat; others referred to that.

Spinning Jack’s chair, Detective Sergeant Josephine Wild, nicknamed Jo-Jums, cautioned,

‘Pumps looks serious.’ The Superintendent’s nicknames were Mandy Pumps or Mandy Lifeboats, courtesy of Jack Austin, who nicknamed everyone, saying, “That’s yer moniker, son, so lump it.” Everyone was son to him. You had to lump that as well. Jo-Jums, also known as Mumsey, which described her comely appearance as well as her instincts, asserted her matriarchal caring role of her frequently distracted, often errant, boss, shook her head and tutted, which usually did the trick.

The Superintendent reappeared, ‘Jane, when I say step into my office, I mean now, not when you felt like it,’ stayed, hazel eyes flaring green within her angry face; Jack liked that face.

Languidly, and in his most refined voice, ‘Miss Bonnet, I seek first to deteriorate your intonation, thus relieving me of the burden of assuming your iron on a morning when my mood is elevated and my eyes are brightened by exercise, and, what’s the magic word?’

As funny as his Pride and Prejudice misquotes were, Jack Austin being Mr Malacopperism, Jo-Jums noted the impeccably coiffed, sharply dressed, high-achieving, fifty-something, strong Superintendent, appeared edgy this morning and not so sartorially smooth. Jack remained unruffled. He relished his nickname, Jane, frequently regaling one and all with bastardised Jane Austen quotes such as, “Your family, they are well?” the expected response, “Yes, quite well.” However, this morning, Jack was insensible to the precarious signals.

Pride and PrejudiceJaneThe Riot Act was interrupted by the whistled theme from Z-cars, a vintage BBC police drama only Jack remembered, heralding Hissing Sid, the station desk sergeant. ‘Jane, I need you downstairs to sort out bleedin’ Dixon of Dock Green.’ Sid acquired his moniker because he hissed the C in CID, although he was a lanky, skeletal, middle-aged snake of a man, so covering all bases, Austin would say.

Z-cars‘Siderney...’ Austin’s posh voice, "...the magic word?’

‘Christ"s sake, Jane, Pleeeeeeeasssse,’ Sid hissed, a drawn-out whiney, sycophantic enunciation, reflected also in Sid’s body language that naturally simpered.

‘Righteeho, but I may have a previous engagement with Superintendent Pumps.’ Austin replied, fluttering his one eye, pleased with his response, didn’t look around, he knew others liked it too. He had a sense for these things to the extent he told people he was blessed.

Resigned, Sid slithered out as Mandy bashed Jack on his head with a rolled-up newspaper, and mimicking Sid, ‘Pleeeeeeeasssse, Jane, pretty please with brass knobs,’ and whacked him again.

Feigning a serious head injury, ‘Be right with you, sweet’art.’

Jack’s juvenile behaviour irritated, but Mandy liked him, irritated her more. A tall man, six-four and straight backed, his dad had been a Marine, a tad overweight, he erroneously thought, and definitely ugly, though he argued his face had character, Austin was a charismatic cockney barrow boy, and he called her beautiful, a real woman, which she liked. Mandy was tall herself, five-ten, and in reasonable shape for fifty-three, but beautiful? She considered her nose too big, but Jack would say it was one of the things he liked most. Mandy had known Jack nine years since coming to Portsmouth, she, a single parent of two children, Jack an evident strong bond of love with his wife and their two kids. He’d been devastated when Kate died three years ago; even now she knew he grieved.

She paced back to her office.