*Continued from 'Poster Boy'
Chapter One
It was too bloody hot again, and Detective Inspector Richard Poole found his ire rising in tandem with the mercury in the station barometer.
He had just finished interviewing three dreadful local youths who were responsible for stealing his clothes* when Richard and the team had gone to a beach for a swim, a week or so back. Not only did Richard have the indignity of being left naked behind a bush as a result, they had also broken into the shack – which Richard preferred to call a bungalow, but a beach shack it was none the less – had trashed the place and had strewn his property all over the surrounding area. It had not been fun getting answers out of semi-stoned idiots who kept interrupting with personal references to Poole's 'lily white ass' in front of the team. Richard would have preferred not to have been reminded about that! But at least the little swines had been caught, evidence gathered by the bucket load squarely confirming their guilt. After that charges were swiftly made and the gits removed to the holding centre at the prison.
Still, the bloody heat!
Richard had taken his jacket off, had been wise enough to wear a lighter material shirt, had his fan on, the doors wide open but *still* he felt he was melting away to nothing. He sighed, rose from his chair, made his way across the floor to the large fridge freezer on the opposite side of the room and pulled open the door. A loud groan escaped from his lips as he saw empty shelves where there should have been rows of chilled bottled water.
"What! Bloody Hell! Now we have to go to a well to get cool drinking water all of a sudden!? Why is this fridge empty! We have GOT to have cold water to drink for God's sake!"
The team of Detective Sergeant Camille Bordey, Officer Dwayne Myers and Police Sergeant Fidel Best, barely raised their heads as they were so used to Poole's rantings.
"There was a delay at the depot, Chief. Water should be here in a couple of hours." Dwayne said as he continued with the cross word he had started during a quiet moment.
Richard threw up his hands and rolled his eyes. Grumbling, he returned to his seat defeated. Camille suddenly stood up and grabbed her shoulder bag, heading for the side door.
"Where are you off to?" Richard asked, puzzled.
"To Eldred's to get some water," Camille replied "before you expire from the heat or from us killing you because you are becoming very irritating!"
"I'm not irritating! I just want to have some cold water to drink! It's baking!" Richard groused.
Camille rolled her eyes and marched out of the building while Dwayne and Fidel did their best not to laugh at the scene unfolding. It was obvious their DI and DS were falling for each other, obvious to everyone else that is, except them. Dwayne and Fidel looked at each other and smiled, sharing a silent thought.
As the morning unfolded, the work piled up. Apart from tidying up from a drugs related murder case, the team were also having to deal with a recent increase in petty crime as of course, Richard had found out to his cost.
For all that Saint-Marie was a small island, Richard wished there were more resources. Apart from the main station in Honoré, there were three other satellite stations in the smaller towns of New Devon, South Bay and St George, as well as a dozen smaller stations which were basically rooms attached to buildings on other parts of the island. The island jail also served as a holding centre for newly arrested prisoners, rather than have multi-occupancy if there were more prisoners than cells in the main stations.
He had started to quietly examine the manpower distribution – mostly part time and volunteer – as well as the resources. The police budget was assessed on a yearly basis by committee with the funding coming from an island community tax, a Commonwealth grant and private business. The assets were small, one main police car - the battered Land Rover Defender - Dwayne's motorcycle which had been 'upgraded' in the last year from an old Triumph Bonneville to a more shiny Royal Enfield motorbike and sidecar plus other equipment. Richard was surprised to learn the 'bike was actually partially owned by Dwayne. He had invested some of his savings in to the purchase so he wouldn't be saddled with an older more worn out vehicle.
But for now, Richard had to concentrate on getting better results in apprehending the thieves, con artists and drug dealers that seemed to come from out of nowhere in the last few months. Someone was behind the increase Richard was sure of it, but there wasn't the time or resources to dig deeper. The idiots he had interviewed this morning didn't have much to offer either, just the usual young male testosterone driven desire to prove they were 'gangsta' so probably were not tied up with any particular organised gang as such.
He looked up and noted that despite the pressure everyone was under – notably from Commissioner Patterson –the team were still keen, and working well in making inroads with the local community so hopefully something would break soon.
Richard was actually quite proud of his team whom he gladly acknowledged, contributed a huge amount to the phenomenal success the little police force had with arrests and convictions for murder and other serious crimes. Whilst Richard could bring the pieces together and work on that, it was his team who were behind his success, despite the lack of technology and man power.
Sitting back in his chair and stretching his arms back behind his head, Richard mused about his time on the island. The last time he had been back in the UK was when he escorted a suspect back to the UK, to be interviewed by SOCA in London. He thought he would be overjoyed to return albeit only for a few days to the cold air. But something, or someone rather, had given him pause to think again.
When Richard had been packing for the journey home, Camille had watched and then challenged him that he would not come back. Richard denied it, or tried to. He was somewhat taken aback at the slight crack in her voice and was about to try and re-assure her when Dwayne and Fidel had arrived. He also pondered the fact he managed to walk off without his passport, tickets and cell phone and would have gone all the way to the airport without the items if Camille hadn't handed them to him over the railings.
But what had stunned him the most at the time and made him so uncomfortable, was the kiss he had received on the right cheek from her and a hug. He had frozen and did not know how to react. Richard was not the most tactile of people at the best of times and had difficulty with anyone invading what he considered his personal space. But Camille had invaded his personal space some time ago and as much as he could try to deny it, that personal space was his heart.
He blinked hard at the thought and blushed, suddenly becoming aware he had been staring at Camille sat opposite. Clearing his throat and sitting forward, he was relieved to see that Camille hadn't noticed, being engrossed in her own work. Richard sighed as he looked down at the paperwork piled on his desk and started to sift his way through it. However his concentration was suddenly broken by the desk phone ringing. He scowled and answered.
Camille was working through her paperwork and had heard Richard answer the phone, but raised her head when she heard him whisper "What? When? Dad...?"
He had suddenly gone very pale and was sitting rigidly still, his knuckles white from gripping the receiver so hard.
"Is everything alright Richard?" Camille asked. When he didn't respond she rose out of her chair, "Richard?"
He hadn't heard her at all and was just sat motionless staring into space. Camille crossed over to his desk, gently prised the receiver out of his hand, checked to hear if there was anyone on the line but hearing only a dial tone, she replaced it carefully back on the set. He still didn't respond. Dwayne and Fidel began to rise from their seats, both too becoming concerned.
"Richard, Richard.." Camille gently squeezed his hand, "Richard, are you alright?"
He suddenly blinked and focused on her, his mouth opening and closing but with no sound.
Camille was now becoming very worried. She looked back at Dwayne and shook her head.
"Richard!" She said, more loudly this time. He jumped at her voice.
"S..sorry, what did you say?" He mumbled back.
"Are you alright? You have gone very pale. What's the matter, are you feeling ill?" Camille was now at eye level with him.
He breathed out slowly and shook his head a little, still with an expression of disbelief.
"No, no..no, nothing like that. It's...my dad's phoned and..."
He looked up at her again.
"My mother has just died."
