Sam looked at his reflection in the cracked mirror in his flat and thought about what the past year (if it was indeed a year) had brought. 1973 was about to become 1974, at least in this world. His face showed the pain he felt, how he so often felt out of step with the others. He wondered, and not for the first time, whether it was right to be "here". Then, he shook himself and went to work.
The shout came at half past three, just as it was starting to get dark: suspicious activity in the derelict warehouses just past Brooker's Mill. Sam grabbed a torch and followed Ray and Chris to the car where Gene was waiting.
"Hurry up you lot. Waiting for you is like waiting for me Auntie Gladys to get the Christmas pud out the oven: takes an age and you're never sure it's worth it once she's got it." Gene complained.
"I see Santa forgot to put some seasonal good humour in your stocking then," Sam replied.
"That's not the only thing he forgot," the DCI grunted.
When they reached the warehouses they were in total darkness. Despite there being no sign of activity they entered quietly but soon realised that if anyone had been there they had already left. Nevertheless Sam shone his torch on the dusty floor boards looking for evidence of trespassers. There were indeed footprints going across the floor and what appeared to be some crumpled newspaper and a large cardboard box in one corner.
"Typical," Ray said. "New Year's Eve and we've been called out because a tramp's trying to kip in a crumby warehouse."
"Wait a minute," Sam had caught a slight glisten in the torchlight. "What's that?"
He reached under the iron staircase that led to the next floor and scrabbled in the dirt. His fingers closed on the small object and he brought it out for the others to see. It was a signet ring, and it had very distinctive markings.
"Let me see that," Gene demanded. "I reckon this must have come from the jeweller's in Park Street. You remember we only ever found part of the haul. See if there's any sign of anything else."
Chris went up the staircase and gingerly stepped onto the floor above. "Guv, there's a holdall here ..." he started to cough.
"You okay Skelton?" Gene shouted.
"Yeah, it's very dusty up here. Oh wow."
Ray and Sam battled to be first up the staircase to see what Chris had found. Gene waited below, having no wish to be covered in dust and cobwebs.
They brought the holdall back down and threw it into the boot of the Cortina.
"We'll drop this off at the station and then go down the pub. I might even buy you all a drink to celebrate."
000 --- 000
"If we hadn't had the call due to that tramp being in the warehouse," Gene reflected.
"And the boss hadn't thought to bring his torch," Chris added.
"We'd never had found that holdall," Ray completed the sentence.
"Serendipity," murmured Sam.
"Yer what?" CID chorused.
"Serendipity. A lucky accident. Oh, never mind, I think it's my round," Sam gave up.
Later, having seen in the new year, Sam made his way back to his flat. "Serendipity" he thought. "Perhaps it was a lucky accident after all that brought me here."