Stagestruck

‘In a sense, I am.’

‘Come off it, sergeant. I’m not getting into one of these obscure debates with you. That is not your uniform.’

‘Not the uniform you expected, I grant you.’

‘Are you off duty?’

‘Far from it.’ Dawkins gave a smile that lit up the room. ‘On which happy note, I can declare that in this, of all places, my present apparel passes for a uniform.’

‘It does not.’

‘No one wears regulation blues here.’

‘Yes, but we’re CID and you’re not.’

Dawkins chuckled at that. ‘Have you not heard from the Assistant Chief Constable? I was assigned to your command late yesterday.’

‘That can’t be right.’ Suddenly he knew what it meant to be staring down the barrel of a gun.

‘A reinforcement, ACC Dallymore calls me.’

‘We’ll see about that,’ Diamond said. He marched straight through to his office, slammed the door, snatched up the phone and asked to be put through to the ACC and was told she was at a policy meeting at Headquarters and wouldn’t be in all day. Even before he replaced the receiver he saw the memo on his desk from Georgina:

Peter, I have assigned Sergeant Dawkins to CID for a probationary period with immediate effect. As you know, he has made several applications for a transfer and I believe the time is now right to give him this opportunity. His individual qualities will, I am confident, strengthen the team. I may add that he comes with the recommendation of his senior officer.

‘I bet he does,’ Diamond muttered with all the bitterness of a man who has been shafted. With Georgina out all day he couldn’t overrule her. He sat for two minutes in stunned confusion. Finally he looked for a get-out in the word ‘probationary,’ telling himself he would make sure it was the shortest probation ever. The man would trip up before he’d taken two steps.

He opened the door and looked out. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Dawkins.’

‘I know that. Your first name.’

‘Horatio.’

It was all of a piece. ‘And is that suit your idea of plain clothes?’

‘Civilian wear.’

‘But it isn’t plain. You’re going to stand out in a crowd wearing that. Haven’t you noticed what the others wear, casual gear, like T-shirts and jeans and leather jackets?’

‘With all due et cetera, sir, T-shirts and jeans and leather jackets are not to be found in my wardrobe.’

‘You wear that suit around the house?’

‘In point of fact, no. This is my walking out wear.’

‘What do you wear indoors, then?’

‘When not in uniform, I favour my dance things.’

‘Say that again.’

‘Singlets and leggings. I’m often barefoot around the house.’

‘You’re a dancer?’

‘I do a certain amount, yes.’

There was a pause. ‘As in Swan Lake?’

‘I prefer flamenco.’

Diamond pictured him strutting around the office in Spanish costume and couldn’t see it going down well with the team. ‘That’s remarkable, but it doesn’t solve the problem of the suit.’

‘If I may be so bold…’ Dawkins started to say, and then amended it to, ‘If I may presume to comment…’

‘What do you want to say?’

‘I am not alone in wearing a suit.’

‘You mean I’m in one? I’m in charge here. Besides, mine is plain grey. I don’t know what colour you call yours but it hurts my eyes to look at it. Haven’t you anything more subdued at home?’

‘Dark blue overalls, for garden duties.’

He pictured that for a second. ‘I don’t think so. We’ll put up with this today and find some office work for you. The public isn’t ready for that suit. Take off the jacket and sit behind a desk. Other people will be in soon. Oh, and for your own salvation we’ll call you Fred.’

‘Fred?’

‘As in Astaire, but we needn’t say so.’