Sheelagh's mind buzzed with possibilities and ideas as she flung open the doors to Sun Hill Police Station the next morning. Quickly changing into her crisp, clean and immaculately pressed uniform, decorated with shiny Sergeant's stripes that gleamed in the artificial light; she marched out of the locker room. Straightening her cravat she headed for the coffee machine in the hallway to cure her thirst before hunting down Matt Boyden and once more taking up her post in the CAD room. The haste made her fumble with her change and spill it over the floor. Picking up the various coins she noticed, out of the corner of her eye, a hand resting on the machine.
"Mornin' all"
The low voice and Liverpudlian drawl of Des Taviner rung in Sheelagh's ears as she turned around to see the bold Constable's smiling face.
"What are you doing here, PC Taviner? Shouldn't you be on Parade?" she asked sternly, putting a pound coin into the machine and pressing the appropriate code for a cup of hot coffee.
"Just thought I'd grab something hot an' sweet before goin' out for the day. Parade wasn't much, keep 'em peeled for a bunch of men in striped jumpers with bags marked 'SWAG'" he said smoothly with a grin.
"Des, if I…agh how did that happen!" she cried as her change flew from the machine and onto the floor. Des capped his hand over the change hole quickly as Sheelagh bent down to pick up her money for a second time that morning.
"Bloody machines. The little plastic cover thing came off yesterday but if you're quick with your 'ands, like I am, you can get the most of it" explained Des.
Sheelagh stood upright, counting her money, and giving Des a stern look. His pursuit of her had been sweet at first but now it had reached the annoying phase. If it carried on any longer she could see herself going to the Inspector even though she hated to rock the boat in her first couple of months. Des was a popular member of the relief as well as a key figure in the fire tragedy playing a pivotal role in bringing those responsible to justice. Getting him fired would bring her no brownie points or popularity with the relief. Perhaps she ought to grin and bear it for a while longer and give him time to get bored of chasing her.
"Here you go, a pretty penny for a pretty lady" Des said holding up a shiny one pence piece.
"Des if I've told you once I've told you a thousand times I'm not in the market, in fact I'm quite a few miles from it, I'm very happily married to a wonderful man. Where's your other half anyway? Shouldn't you and Reg be going out to play about now?" she took the penny from his fingers with a delicate snatch and fixed a glare that told him she wasn't in the mood anymore.
"Truth is, Sarge, I'd much rather talk to you than Boyden" he explained with his usual drawl.
"Reg is in with Matt? Why? What's he done?" she asked, having a suspicion that Reg's reason might be the same one she was about to make a beeline for custody for. Perhaps Reg had the same idea about following up the number-plate.
"Somethin' about that piece o' crap he dug up yesterday. Don't see the point meself," Des replied.
"I'm surprised, I thought it was a wonderful piece of initiative on Reg's part, not many officers in this station have his instincts. I'm shocked a seasoned PC like you didn't see the potential in it. Where are they anyway?"
"Custody, hey and I taught him…everything he…knows…" Des shouted after her but Sheelagh was ahead of him and on her way into the Custody Suite.
Rounding the corner she noticed Matthew Boyden standing behind the vast, blocky blue custody desk filling out a form and looking extremely bored. Reg Hollis stood the other side of the desk, upright and fully gelled as usual, he seemed to be almost pleading for something while Matt hardly looked up from his form.
"Just a couple of hours will do, Sarge. I really want to chase this up," Reg was asking.
"No means no, Reg. We're understaffed enough today as it is with out you trying to scare up the owners of a bit of rubbish, now 'oppit!" replied Matt.
"Problems Matt?" asked Sheelagh, walking up to the desk and catching Des out of the corner of her eye arriving behind clutching a cup of coffee.
"Only Reg and unfortunately it's incurable," he replied
"Sarge, you, er, forgot your coffee," Des said ambling up to the three of them.
"I've already got one. You saw me buy it not five minutes ago," Sheelagh snapped back at him.
"Must've dropped 'alf of it runnin' down the corridor," Des tried to explain.
"I'm not putting up with this now get out of here the both of yous. C'mon chop chop!" she replied ushering Des and Reg out of the area.
"Leave the coffee, Des. I'm quite parched," ordered Matt with a half smile. Des muttered something, slammed the cup down on the desk ensuring most of the contents spilled out, and stormed out of the door. Sheelagh stopped Reg on his way out.
"Sarge, can't you 'ave a word with 'im. You saw what the PNC said and I really want to follow this up," he began.
"Don't worry I intend to do everything I can about it. This story is much more intriguing than we first thought, I'll fill you in later but for now just get on patrol and try to soothe the savage Taviner. His ego's just been bruised a bit," she explained.
"Thanks, Sarge" Reg replied and left the Custody Suite.
"Thank God 'e's gone," grumbled Matt. " If I hear one more person wittering on about that stupid number-plate I'll lock 'em up!"
"Actually" said Sheelagh, blushing slightly with embarrassment, "I do need to ask a couple of things about that evening."
"No you as well!" Matt sighed. " Look it was very late, too late for cock and bull stories about vanishing taxi cabs and the stupid old soaks that drive 'em, I took a few statements from the driver, the punter and some of the cab office goons and handed the lot over to Traffic. Good riddance too if you ask me!"
"Did they find out anything new? Have you heard back from them lately?" she asked.
"Nope, you know what they're like, I don't reckon I'm likely to either. They probably just chucked the file in the bin like we should've done," he grumbled. " What's your interest in it anyway? This is only another one of Reg's follies like the time he once had half the station out looking for a lost cat he suspected of swallowing a gold wedding ring!"
Sheelagh giggled slightly. " What happened?"
"Tony Stamp managed to catch the flea ridden thing after four hours of chasing it around Canley Fields, marched it to the nearest vets and had it X-rayed. Nothing in there whatsoever. The owner found it down the side of 'er sofa conveniently after we brought Tiddles back!"
Sheelagh wiped a tear of laughter away from her eye and tried to reply through the giggles.
"I think it's just worth following up. I was talking to Patrick last night and he said the fare was taken to a derelict building in the middle of nowhere, has to be a bit dodgy, I mean you must've thought it odd at the time?" she asked.
"Yeah, well" he muttered " It was near the end of the shift and I had a date in a couple of hours so I rushed it through."
" Needed help with her homework did she?" Sheelagh added sternly.
"I just didn't think it had legs. The bloke said he was working on restoring it and had left some documents on the site, didn't have any reason to doubt 'im so I left it. Look, Traffic are looking into it now and if there was anything that smelt funny they would've dealt with it so why don't you go and bother them if you're so worried about it!" Matt sounded exactly as disinterested with the case as he appeared to be, of course having repeated the whole thing to Reg about ten minutes earlier didn't help.
"I suppose that's the next thing on my list" admitted Sheelagh reluctantly. "I can just see myself facing a battle royale to even get my foot in the door over there."
"Yeah, it'd be easier getting management to buy a round" he agreed.
"Couldn't you phone them for me? You were the officer in charge so couldn't you just check up?" she asked.
"No, they'd think I was just poking my nose in and fob me off with some excuse. Anyway as I said they've probably chucked the lot in the tip!" he replied.
"They might respond if we get the Super onto it or if one of their own talked to them? Do you know anybody in Traffic? Can't say I've ever come across one I'd care to spend more than five minutes with?"
"Slept with a Sergeant about five years back but we're…er…not exactly on the best of terms" he admitted. Sheelagh rolled her eyes and gave him an 'oh, men!' look.
"Hang on a minute, Gemma Osbourne used to be in Traffic didn't she? You could get 'er to pull some strings," Matt suggested.
"Was she? That would be great, do you know where she's posted today?" asked Sheelagh with a glint in her eye, her face lighting up once more with new hope and possibilities.
"At present she is moppin' up Cell number eight. Mr Murray liked his breakfast so much he brought it back up to enjoy it all over again," Matt answered with a half smile.
"Gemma!" he shouted.
" Yes, Sarge?" the flame red hair and cheeky smile of PC Gemma Osbourne appeared around the corner of the door to the cellblock. Putting the mop she was holding into a bucket, she slid it over to the side, and wiped her hands on a nearby towel.
"You can have a break now. Ten minutes and no more, ok! Oh, and Sergeant Murphy wants to ask a personal favour," Matt ordered bluntly with another smirk in his colleague's direction.
"Mmm, look's like a table for two then, Sarge" replied Gemma cheekily, in her distinctive Mancunian accent, bounding out the door and in the direction of the canteen.
"Take this with you too, Reg left it behind," he added, picking the number-plate up off the desk and sliding it along to Sheelagh. "Have a nice chat now."
Sheelagh gave the still smirking Matt a glare although he wasn't really paying attention. She felt slightly embarrassed at her fellow Sergeant's bluntness as she now faced an uncomfortable conversation with Gemma and then the Inspector, hoping to be allowed to follow up on the case. When she was sure Matt was engrossed back in his form she tucked the plate under the desk at the far end and headed towards the canteen.
Gemma Osbourne indeed still had connections in Traffic and was happy to make a phone call to her old Inspector and arrange for Sheelagh to have a meeting about the case to discuss any new information. There wasn't actually any new data but Sheelagh was quite confident that she could bluff for long enough to see how far Traffic had progressed with it. Convincing Inspector Gold to let her spend time following it up, the whole case would be a dead end according to her, especially with the shift low on personnel due to a flu bug, would be tricky and even Sheelagh had some doubts it would lead to an arrest. She was sure that it wouldn't be given the time of day but Sheelagh was shrewd though and offered to do some overtime and find cover for the CAD room in exchange for her brief excursion. The Inspector reluctantly agreed but not before she had enjoyed a laugh at the whole thing. On the whole though she trusted Sheelagh's judgement and knew that she would be able to draw a line under it if the case proved to be the non-starter that everyone seemed to think it was. On her way out she bumped into Sergeant Tyler, a short cockney man in his early thirties who often wandered around the station in a state of worry, just finishing his shift and cajoled him into taking CAD for a couple of hours. His only price was that of a pint of bitter waiting for him in the bar of The Elcott Arms when his services were no longer required. Changing back into her civvies, a smart black trouser suit with a partially frilled white blouse and her usual cream overcoat, she headed for the yard and drove into the heart of London.
Sheelagh felt a little claustrophobic in the city, with its large chunky buildings and different styles, which ranged from 500 years up until last week in age, a mix that settled with different people in different ways. Sun Hill was the most urban environment Sheelagh had ever worked in and that unsettled her sometimes. She walked into a plush office block, certainly not the sort of place she had expected to take the meeting in. Somehow she had a notion it would be something like a large prefab on the hard shoulder of the M25. A pretty, blonde twenty-something secretary wearing a similar suit to Sheelagh's met her at the door and led her towards a waiting area where she would spend the next half hour while the Inspector was in a meeting. Gemma had managed to get her Sergeant ten minutes in-between meetings to see him but she was certain it would be more than enough time to secure access to the files. As she waited she kept one eye on the time, not wanting to spend too much time away from the station, even though she had permission to be there for a while yet.
The Inspector entered the room in a hurry, carrying a couple of modest folders, bustled his way past Sheelagh and made a beeline for his office. He was quite tall and thin as a rake with sandy coloured hair, balding slightly, his uniform was immaculately clean and pressed with every button and pip dazzling everyone he shot past. All of which suggested to Sheelagh that he was either married or a confirmed bachelor who took a lot of pride in his appearance. In his younger days this man would probably have been an ideal poster boy for the Metropolitan Police and the sort of person Sheelagh could have fallen quite hard for if she wasn't already married. The secretary approached him, handed him a blue file and whispered something in his ear, presumably about his visitor, causing him to give quite a noticeable sigh and drop his broad shoulders down a notch. The man looked over in Sheelagh's direction and sauntered over towards her with one hand outstretched.
"Sergeant Murphy, I presume?" he asked in a distinctive Scottish accent.
"Yes, sir" answered Sheelagh standing up and feeling quite tense.
"Hello I'm Inspector Alastair Greig. I can only spare you a few minutes I'm afraid, you've caught me on quite a busy day and I have a budget meeting soon so if you would care to follow me we can sort this out," he said curtly with a slight smile. Sheelagh followed him into his office where they both took seats. Looking around she noticed it was quite sparse, the desk was fairly free of clutter with only the essentials taking up space, although that was probably a result of his neatness. The grey walls were adorned with the obligatory portrait of The Queen as well as a group photo of a bunch of fresh faced young PC's which was taken over 20 years ago. Hardly any other personal effects seemed to feature amongst the files and folders apart from a couple of photos of various groups of friends, no family though, featuring the Inspector but years younger (in one she was sure she spotted a young Jim Carver). The oddest feature though was a shiny clarinet, lying atop a stand, on a table at the side. The secretary came in, with alarming quickness, carrying a tray with two cups of coffee and a plate of biscuits.
" I gather you're attached to Sun Hill, Sergeant?" Alastair asked, taking a sip of his coffee.
"Call me Sheelagh, sir and yes I've been there for over a month now. Just starting to settle in really at the moment," Sheelagh answered with a smile, starting to relax. At first he seemed cold but she could see he was trying to make small talk in an effort to put her at ease.
"I served ten years over there in the CID as a Detective Sergeant, before my tenure came up five years ago, of course. One of the happiest times of my life which I suppose says something about me."
"Really, sir. They seem like a really solid team although I bet that not much has changed since your day," she added.
"No, probably not. I bet old Bob Cryer's still knocking about, running the relief ragged, eh?" he asked.
" I don't know him, sorry. I think he retired a couple of years ago."
"Retired? Really? That's a surprise I would've expected the old war-horse to still be knocking around come judgement day, clinging to one of the desks as the flames sprung up," he chuckled slightly. "What about Chris Deakin, one of my old DI's?"
"Sorry, never heard of him," she added, starting to feel a little embarrassed for both of them.
"Ah yes, the whole Beech affair I suppose, yes I forgot, terrible business that. Couldn't help feeling a little guilty about that myself, I mean I did work with the man for over three years. How about Jim Carver, I bet he's a DCI by now?" he said, fumbling a bit.
"Ah, now him I do know. Still a PC I'm afraid, in our CSU," she added with a smile.
"Really? Bright light in CID back in my day like Liz Rawton and Rod Skase but I don't suppose either of those are still around too. How's Gemma getting along?"
" Very well, actually. She's a really good Area Car driver and an effective beat PC. Both the Inspector and the Superintendent have earmarked her for promotion," Sheelagh chatted away, relieved that there was an officer she could now talk about.
"Sorry to lose her, we had quite a good working relationship. She spent a lot of time over here, I think she was a close friend of Jenny's, my secretary, I sometimes wondered how she managed to keep up her impressive record. Ah, Dave Quinnan, he must still be about!"
"I've heard of Dave Quinnan, I think he went over to SO10. Before my time I'm afraid."
"Well, I shouldn't keep going on about the old days like this, we both have things to be getting on with. Now I believe this is what you wanted to see," he said, holding up a blue file that was lying on the desk. "Sun Hill's very own Tale of the Unexpected, with the minimum of information collected by Matthew Boyden, someone I see who is definitely still alive and skiving as much as ever."
Alastair passed it over to Sheelagh, who wanted to start rifling through it immediately, but kept it to a restrained peek at the amount of papers inside.
" Thank you, sir. Do you know I honestly thought I was going to have to put up a fight to get this," she added, feeling quite elated.
"If you can bring anything new to light then I'll be glad to help. PC Gardiner and PC Wilkins tried their best but couldn't garner much else than what's contained and if you want to interview them just let me know and I'll set something up. I'll be honest, Sheelagh this is another one of those thorn-in-the-side cases that will end up lying dormant in the vaults somewhere so if I can get it closed then I'll be happy. Obviously I can't let it leave the building but you can use one of the spare offices for as long as you require and any photocopying you need done just ask Jenny," Alastair replied with a stern but warm tone of voice. Sheelagh thanked him again; he took another file off the desk and followed her out.
Sheelagh couldn't help but stare at the well-furnished corridors as she was led down the hallway by Jenny and into an empty office. She could really see herself working in a place like this one day and wished that Sun Hill was half as inviting, perhaps one day when she had enough of the sharp end and fancied a nice cushy desk job, she thought to herself. The office itself was much nicer than any back at the station too; the walls were clean for a start. A large desk stood in the centre with a comfy looking padded chair sitting behind it. Tastefully decorated in cream and brown, the walls were enhanced by a couple of bland watercolours depicting the countryside. Sheelagh felt quite self-conscious, as she sat in the comfy chair and started to look through the file, like an intruder or perhaps a squatter was more the word she was looking for. The folder was not overloaded with papers just Matt Boyden's original reports plus some statements and additional reports by Traffic's investigators. These statements both made curious reading as the case was approached from two very different viewpoints. PC Wilkins had filed a standard statement of the facts and his own very basic ideas, the car having been stolen while the driver was away, but PC Gardiner clearly had a thing for conspiracy theories and his report, written over many more pages than his colleague's and with great relish, all but concluded that UFO's stole the cab. Of course it was dressed up with long words and supposition but Sheelagh could see through it, ridiculous of course – the fare to Venus must cost a bomb but at least Patrick could retire on the proceeds, she thought, smiling to herself. One portion of the report even noted that the vehicle could have been 'taken by beings of unknown origin' leaving room to tender almost any answer to the mystery. Both officers seemed to represent the extremities of the case; Wilkins dismissed it as a waste of time and it was obvious he couldn't wait to finish up and get to the pub on time. Gardiner on the other hand offered every paranoid and supernatural theory under the sun, perhaps in an effort to make one stick. He would probably be right at home talking to Reg Hollis; perhaps they even belonged to the same model train club. Sheelagh liked to put herself in-between the two, she stuck fast to the facts and although she wasn't quite a star child the case through up some interesting questions. Even her logical mind began to wonder whether something otherworldly could've been responsible although the idea of a taxicab being whisked away by the fairies still seemed ludicrous. Then again only the number-plate was found so perhaps the vehicle vanished leaving only its plate, like the Delorean car in the Back to the Future movies. It will probably turn up in the 1950's next to a couple of Teddy Boys.
Sheelagh clutched her head in her hands: UFO's? Fairies? Time travelling Hackney carriages? It was all getting too much for her. One of the crystal clear things was the fact that no new information had come to light, just wild speculation, apart from one small detail. Upon visiting the crime scene to try and scrounge up any shreds of forensics, or clues of any kind, Wilkins had disappeared from Gardiner's earshot for a while. He had started to walk around the building but was unable to hear Gardiner, apparently testing the area with a radiation detector or some other kind of contraption, call for help when he spotted a man running through the woods. The man turned out to be a harmless local jogging nut but if Wilkins had been unable to hear his partners cry then perhaps Joe McNulty had wandered around the same corner and been incapable of hearing his car being driven away. The two officers saw no merit in it whatsoever and the only reason it was noted was PC Gardiner's fastidiousness in his reports noting not just his wild theories but his partner's lack of enthusiasm. Patrick had told her that Joe was nearly 75 when he retired and if a fit, young PC couldn't hear from a certain spot, provided he wasn't faking it, then a 75-year-old, especially an old drunk like Joe, would be even worse. Sheelagh made up her mind to take a visit to the old training centre herself even though it was a good few miles out of Sun Hill. There might also be some clues around Dorrell road, the place where Reg had found the plate in the first place, she hadn't thought of going back as all the action took place around the training building but it shouldn't be ruled out. Sheelagh tidied the papers back into the file, having made several notes from the thin material in her pocket book, and walked out of the room with renewed determination.