Chapter Twenty One – The Replacement
PC Mike Bradley slipped down a case file in the archives behind Alf Ventress as the door to the station opened. He curiously looked up to see Oscar Blaketon walking over to the counter.
The former sergeant, stationed in Ashfordly for a very long time, looked from Bellamy to Bradley and then finally Ventress. "Well, not running your legs off, I see," he muttered.
Mike's lips twisted in amusement at the retired officer and closed the drawer.
"What can we do for you, Oscar?" Alf asked as he placed the last of his dipped cake into his mouth.
"You shouldn't be sitting around here, you should be out on the patch, showing yourselves among the population," he reasoned sharply.
Alf leaned back in his chair. "If it wasn't anything more," he said curtly.
Blaketon turned to fix him with a glare. "If it has slipped your mind I will kindly inform you that the fox hunt up at the Ashfordly Estate will begin tomorrow evening. I'm surprised none of you have been up there already, to make arrangements."
"It doesn't require a constable to point in the right direction in a car park," Phil complained.
"You know Lord Ashfordly knows the chief constable. I'm just trying to make sure the station keeps its good reputation," Oscar said sharply.
"Is there some kind of problem?" a voice rang out from the sergeant's office.
Blaketon frowned and turned in the direction of his old office as a smart man walked out and headed toward the duty room.
"Sergeant Lancewood, this is former Sergeant Blaketon," Mike introduced.
"I wasn't aware division would send someone so quickly," Oscar said in a clear voice.
Lancewood crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. "Judging from the sound of raised voices coming from here I take it this is not a social call?" he asked politely.
"No," Blaketon shook his head. "I've come from Lord Ashfordly and he is a bit worried about security," he explained.
The relief sergeant frowned, completely clueless.
"The lordship organizes a foxhunt every year for the posh people. They come from everywhere, London, Leeds, even Glasgow. Only this time the lower standing people, such as you and me, are invited. The festivities will go on for days," Oscar said sharply.
"What exactly is your point?" the relief sergeant asked, his patient becoming shorter for every minute passing.
"The lordship expects police presence," Oscar finished, slightly annoyed.
"Well then, of course he shall have it," Lancewood returned.
Blaketon's eyebrows shot upward in surprise.
"Whatever the lordship wants I take it he shall have. I'm sure the chief constable will be glad to know his officers will be of service," he said casually.
Blaketon narrowed his eyes suspiciously but said nothing for a while, appearing to be studying the man in front of him, trying to judge the character.
"I believe we're finished here," the new-comer said and turned to leave again.
"What are you going to do about the unsolved burglaries around here?" Oscar hollered after him. "People are beginning to worry again now that it stands clear that the antiques gang didn't steal everything we believed they stole."
"We?" Alf asked.
Oscar gave him a glare, still feeling like he was in the force but decided to let the remark go. He turned to look after the sergeant who quietly slipped into his office and closed the door. Turning toward Alf with a questionable look on his face he asked; "What is really going on here?"
"We know nothing more than you do, Sarge," Bellamy piped up as he sat down behind his desk, coming from the kitchenette.
OOOOOO
"Can you hear me?" Doctor Bolton said as he briskly walked through the door with Jo on his tail.
Nick tiredly fought to reopen his eyes but the darkness surrounding him didn't want to release him.
"Nick," Jo's soft voice called out. "Come on love, I know you're there."
He shifted slightly in the bed.
Sister Bolton came walking through the door, hope evident on her face as she had been summoned to the room from the maternity ward below. "Come on Nick," she encouraged.
The young sergeant slowly blinked his eyes open and took a moment to glance around the room. Three blurred persons surrounded him. He tried to focus and finally managed to make out his wife, their common friend Maggie Bolton and Dr. Bolton.
"Hi, love," Jo said softly, a smile playing on her lips.
"Can you hear me?" the doctor tried again.
Nick slowly tilted his head toward the doctor.
"Welcome back," Neil said and reached for Nick's wrist to take his pulse. "Can you tell me your name?"
"Nick Rowan," he said without hesitation.
Jo let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding and carefully eased down in the visiting chair
as the doctor, obviously satisfied with the reading he got, kept asking Nick questions. She was so relieved it was beyond recognition.
"Do you remember what happened?" Maggie asked softly, standing next to Neil on Nick's left side.
For a moment there appeared to be nothing but frustration creasing Nick's brow but then he became more relaxed and turned to look from the doctor to the nurse.
"I fell through the floor," he said deadpan before suddenly remembering there had been others with him. "Mike," he said, dread creeping over him as he felt a knot form in his stomach, afraid of the answer.
"He's fine, Nick," Jo said as she reached over to take his hand into hers. "Mike is fine."
"Right," Neil said and turned to Jo. "Mrs. Rowan I need to borrow your husband for a while, take some new scans." He turned to Maggie who gave him a faint smile and walked over to Jo.
"Come on," the nurse said. "Let's go grab something to eat and when we get back Nick will be as good as new."
OOOOOO
PC Phil Bellamy sighed in frustration as he pulled up just outside the Ashfordly Estate. PC Mike Bradley drove up next to him with his motorbike and carefully removed his helmet and gloves. Phil got out of the car and stretched lightly easing the kinks out of his back.
"So far so good," he said sarcastically, overlooking the immediate green area where several tents had been arisen. "How does it feel by the way? To be able to ride the motorbike again?"
"Sore," he replied before switching back to the earlier remark. "It won't start till tomorrow afternoon," he returned with a smirk, "so yeah, it should be pretty quiet around here."
"Well then, I guess we better fix the parking lot, walk the perimeter and everything else like we usually do once a year," he said in exasperation.
"Of what I hear it's not like every other year. The whole village has been invited," Mike returned with a quirk.
Phil turned to look over his shoulder to face his colleague. "You know that's…" he trailed off as Mike raised his hand, "…what?"
Mike nodded toward the car's radio receiver. They hadn't gotten very far yet but the transmission was still hard to hear.
"Delta-Alpha-Two-One come in please," Ventress said over the line.
Mike and Phil looked at each other before the latter started walking toward the car, curious about what was going on albeit a bit suspicious.
"Delta-Alpha-Two-Four come in please," Ventress continued.
Mike hastily started toward the motorbike equally curious.
"This is control, are you receiving?" The old copper spoke up through the microphone.
Mike quickly picked up the receiver at the back of his motorbike as he saw Phil opening his car door. "This is Alpha-Delta-Two-Four receiving Alf, go ahead," the former London constable replied.
There was a slight pause and then Alf spoke up again, his voice light and slightly teasing. "Mike," he said. "I'm sorry to bother on your, no doubt, intriguing tasks but I wanted you to know that Nick has awakened," he finished.
Phil, who had abandoned the car and headed toward Mike as Alf spoke reached for the microphone in Mike's hand and gently snatched it from him. "Say again Alf?" he urged, not sure he'd heard right.
"I said Nick's awake, you daft bugger," came the instant reply.
Phil looked up at Mike as he felt a pat on his shoulder. They shared a cautious smile which widened into a full grin.
"Now it's just those thefts that the antiques gang didn't do that we need to sort out," Mike said happily.
OOOOOO
To be continued
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