Scarborough Police Station was the home of the North Riding Constabulary CID. Detective Inspector Reynolds had a small office on the first floor which was quite decent with a view over the rooftops to the sea. He was stood at the window now clearly deep in thought. Behind him, sat in front of his desk was another man and on the desk between them were some maps and lists which they had clearly been studying.
Detective Chief Inspector Brian Bailey had worked with Jim Reynolds for some years and could read him like a book. So he was patient to wait until Reynolds turned round and sat back at his desk in front of Bailey with an impatient sigh.
"So, if we want Matthews, we have to go and fetch him. The Met won't help."
"In short, no. And bringing him back here will be a risky operation. We have to accept there is a possibility that he may be sprung. It's a risk anyway." Bailey shrugged. "We need a lot of manpower for that operation but we can't take all available manpower here. Inspector Broadstairs won't allow it and I don't want a Uniform/CID conflict. However what we could do is open up the operation to take in officers from other stations."
"This operation has to be on a lockdown basis," Reynolds said sharply. "I can't open it up to just anyone."
"I agree. So if I pull some lists together of likely Constables who we could draft in we could select who we want. Go on the basis of good service record, clear demonstration of integrity and commitment, longevity of service, that kind of thing."
"Okay." Reynolds spoke slowly. "We need to get moving though."
"Agreed. Leave it with me I'll have a list of names over to you by lunchtime. And I would suggest those we do select are told nothing until they attend the briefing here just before we set off to London."
"Thanks for your help with this sir."
Over at Ashfordly Police Station the routine of Monday turned into something far more intriguing. Oscar Blaketon put down his phone in his office looking puzzled. He went to the door and shouted down the passage, "Rowan! Bellamy! In here, now!"
Alf Ventress grinned at the pair as they exchanged startled glances and then hastily got up to go down to their Sergeant's office.
"Guilty consciences you two?" he remarked knowing full well they had.
"Bugger off Alf," Phil said crossly although he looked uneasily at Nick.
"He can't know about the car!" he whispered.
"Unless Bernie at the garage told him," Nick replied. "But he said he wouldn't."
"Doesn't matter," Phil looked glum. "Greengrass'll be shouting the odds tomorrow."
"Are you two taking the long way round!" Blaketon bawled down the passage.
"Sorry, Sarge," Nick said hastily as he and Phil went into Blaketon's office. Blaketon nodded at the door. Phil shut it.
"Sarge, look, about the car," he began then stopped as Nick put his foot down on Phil's urging him to shut up.
"Well, Bellamy, you can tell me about the car in a minute," Blaketon said. "But firstly I've had a phone call asking you two to report to Scarborough Police Station in uniform at 6:30 tomorrow morning."
The pair looked startled.
"Any idea why Sarge?" Nick asked.
"You've been asked to attend and report to a DI Reynolds. No word of what it's about other than to assist in a planned operation and full details will be provided at a briefing beforehand."
Phil brightened. This sounded like a bit of excitement to liven up a mundane week.
"Do you know how long for Sarge?" he wanted to know.
"No Bellamy so perhaps we need to clear up one or two outstanding matters before you go." Blaketon sat back in his chair. "You were saying – about the car?"
"Weren't my fault Sarge." Phil looked down at the floor.
"I'll be the judge of that!"
"It was Greengrass' chickens," Nick admitted. "One ran out in front of us when we were leaving Claude's place after going to speak to him about the complaint from Lord Ashfordly's gamekeeper."
"Chickens?" Blaketon repeated slowly.
"Well I swerved Sarge," Phil said miserably, "and went into the ditch. Bent the bumper a bit."
"We've put the damage right, Sarge," Nick said trying to help Phil out. "Bernie Scripps sorted it, didn't charge much. But –"
"But?"
"I didn't swerve in time Sarge. I killed the chicken," Phil said miserably. "And Greengrass wants compensation you see."
"So you're saying Greengrass wants compensation? From the North Riding Constabulary?"
"Sarge."
Blaketon got up. "Out!" he shouted. "Get out the pair of you!"
Nervously they backed away.
"God help this DI Reynolds! I hope he knows what he's doing taking you two on for his special operation. Well I've a special operation tomorrow! Dealing with Claude ruddy Greengrass' claim for bloody compensation! Its me who should have compensation for putting up with him – and you lot - all these bloody years!" Angrily he slammed his office door behind the two Constables who took a deep breath as they went back to the duty room.
"That went well I take it," Alf said as they came back.
"Yeah all right Alf." Phil wearily sat back down at his desk. "Tell you what I'll be glad to be out of here tomorrow."
"Oh – you're on the Scarborough job aren't you?"
The other two stared at him. "What do you know about it?" Nick asked. "Blaketon's been told nothing!"
"Well not much more than you know, I reckon. Its all being kept very hush hush apparently." Alf fished out his lunchbox. "Must be summat pretty big."
Phil swallowed suddenly feeling a bit nervous. "Wonder what it is?"
"It'll be all right Phil," Nick said. "Its probably they just want a bit of extra manpower that's all. Anyway best we're out of the way tomorrow when Greengrass comes in waving that chicken under Blaketon's nose."
Kate was not very impressed when Nick broke the news to her about the assignment to Scarborough later that evening. He told her as she was putting dinner together. She turned down the stove and turned to face him.
"So you don't know what its for, whether its dangerous or not or even how long you might be away for?"
"We've not been told to bring a bag with us or anything so its probably only a few hours or a full day at the most. It'll be all right Kate."
"I'm sorry. I just worry that's all."
"Well don't." He took her in his arms. "You know its like this sometimes."
"I know it was like this when we lived in London." She turned back to the stove again.
"Come on, it's not like London. We've put those days behind us now Kate."
"I know." She managed a weak smile. "Won't do any harm to give Blaketon a chance to calm down anyway."
"He would have been all right if it had been any chicken. Its because its Greengrass' chicken he's seen red," Nick said glumly.
"Yes he's spitting feathers!" Kate said with a perfectly straight face.
They suddenly burst out laughing the tension forgotten.
"Lets forget it all now," Kate said, giving Nick a kiss. "We'll eat, have a quiet evening and as for tomorrow, well, - you take care of yourself Nick Rowan!"