'I think we ought to have a word with him, he's asking for trouble.' I bought my stamps and thanked him.
When I walked into the office Dave 'Sparky' Sparkington was sitting at the typewriter desk. He was studying a well-thumbed dictionary.
'Ask me,' I challenged him.
'Morning, boss. How many gs in exaggerate?'
'Er, six. Any messages?'
'Thank you. On your pad.'
'You're welcome.'
There were three names on the pad. One was a DI in another force. I knew what that was about. The other two were Wilf Trumble and Rudi Truscott.
'What does old Wilf want?' I asked. He was a retired PC who had been a contemporary of my father's. I had known him all my life, and for a long time, when I was a kid, had called him 'Uncle'.
'Grumpy old sod wouldn't say,' answered Sparky. 'Said it was for your ears only.'
'And Truscott?'
'Wouldn't say, either. Or leave a number. Didn't want anybody else, so I told him you'd be in about ten. He said he'd ring then. Do you know him?'
'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.'
