Number Crunching
By
Martin79
Rating: T
Distribution: Would be brilliant but please ask first
Main Characters: PC Rob Weston and PC Tony Stamp
Background: This story is set in March 2003
Disclaimer: All characters taken from Thames Television's 'The Bill' created by Geoff McQueen. All originals copyrighted to the author.
Author's Note: This story for me was an exercise in creating a character, PC Rob Weston, and writing a first episode for him. Hope you enjoy it!
"Tall, stunningly handsome and smooth talking," mused PC Kerry Young.
"A millionaire playboy with large mansions dotted all over the world who solves crimes on the side," added PC Honey Harman.
The relief were gathered in the Parade Room ready for the start of another shift. A buzz was zipping around the place about the new officer who was starting work that day and everyone had their own thoughts and theories about what they might be like. Some were looking forward to it whilst others preferred the status quo to remain the same and felt that, on the whole, there had been too many changes of late. Last year's fire still left many scars on the inside.
"So we're talking about getting in one of 'The Persuaders' then?" joked Tony Stamp.
"Lost me there, Tone" Honey replied.
"It was a TV series, Roger Moore and Tony Curtis? Anyone?" he continued.
"Who says it's a bloke, might be a well fit bird," smiled Gary Best from the next seat.
"Hey, I'd be up for a bit o' that," added Des Taviner.
"You know why men call women 'birds', Des? It's because we pick up nasty little worms like you!" Kerry spat back.
"Two seconds ago I coulda slipped over on the drool coming out of your two gobs, you'd think Russell Crowe was joining the nick!" Des replied.
"It's a bloke anyway, Gary, I saw his name on a sheet in Inspector Gold's office. It's Robert something or other," remarked Honey.
"Could still be a woman, what about Nigella Lawson she 'as a blokes name. Well, sort of," Gary added. "Might be Roberta."
"I knew a Roberta once, used to come to our meetings at the 'Canley Model Train Enthusiasts Club'. Had a very nice Flying Scotsman as I recall," added Reg Hollis.
"Woah, easy on those explicit adult details, Reggiebabe," added Des cheekily, "but still, Roberta, what sort of a name is that!"
"Settle down, class, settle down!" Inspector Gina Gold entered the room and immediately the group clamed up and awaited the morning's mixture of news and pep talks. Sergeant's Boyden and Murphy, talking amongst themselves, plus an additional Constable flanked her. A tall, dark haired man with a thin face that looked like a history book had been imprinted on it. The history fought his youth for possession of the visage; he certainly looked older than his true age of 34 and a ripple of supposition spread through the relief. The noise grew louder as they began to mutter to each other.
"Oi! Teacher's talking now!" Gina continued, killing the sound waves. "First off, as you all have noticed, this is the new boy PC Robert Weston who has transferred here all the way from the leafy glades of Surrey. Normally it's the other way around but we can only assume that he is some kind of masochist," she turned and smiled briefly at the man. "Introductions over, good, take a seat please, Robert."
As he sat down Rob couldn't help noticing even more murmurs rumbling around the group. He sat up straight and crossed his arms and legs over his immaculately pressed uniform, a concession to his first day at a new station, and wondered what the source of the gossip could be.
"Full day ahead, boys and girls," Gina continued. " Des and Reg in Sierra One."
Des shot a smug look in Gemma Osbourne's direction, celebrating a mini triumph over his rival for being posted to the Area Car.
"Gemma and Nick in Sierra Two."
"Nick isn't here yet, ma'am," Gemma interrupted.
"Not again! Honestly there's more chance of Robert Peel turning up to work lately than Nick bloody Klein. Ok then take Gary instead," she sighed. "When Mr Klein does bless us with his presence he can spend the shift in CAD. Since that leaves a Gary shaped hole to fill, Tony you can take PC Weston on Beat four with you."
"But ma'am I…" Tony sighed and began to protest but knew it wouldn't be worth the hassle "…would be glad to do it."
She then proceeded to pair up the rest of the relief with one another and assign the various duties of the day.
"Also keep a lookout for a burglar working the Copthorne Estate and the surrounding area, we've had a rainforest's worth of complaints from there recently. That gang of teenage pickpockets is still working the Whitegate Centre – this time I want to nail the little bastards. CID also want to know if we get any reports of dodgy activity from 'Sids Café' on Watermans Road. It seems they think Terry Molloy is using it as a front for drugs and I'm sure anyone who's tasted the bacon butties would agree it's certainly not any kind of restaurant. Carl Trent and his merry men are also back on the patch so keep a look out for them too. So that's another day in paradise. Well go on, shoo," Gina announced gesturing the relief to the door.
As everyone shuffled slowly to their positions Kerry stood up straightened her uniform and watched as Tony Stamp guided the new Constable out the door. Her eyes fixed on the three numbers pinned to the shoulder of his jacket – 518. Pursing her lips and wrinkling her nose a little she made a beeline for Matt Boyden, striding over like a stroppy teenager.
"Sarge, a word please!" she asked firmly as he turned around to leave the room.
"That's four already, Kerry," he replied cockily and barely looking up from his paperwork. "What is it, I'm expected in CAD?"
"The new PC is 518."
"So, it's a number, so what?"
"So he has Cass's, number!" she continued.
"So do half the blokes in Canley but they don't go shouting the odds at me," he smirked. "What's the problem it's only a number?"
"A number which belonged to Cass or have you forgotten about her already?" she spat back.
"When you've been in the Force for as long as I have, Kerry, you'll understand that people come and go and the numbers mean squat. I've known at least three people at this nick with the call sign 832 down the years. This is just another classic Home Office cock up; that number should not have been reassigned so quickly after Cass died and at the same station no less. Some pen pusher with a bale of hay for a brain must've signed it off without thinking so you'll just have to live with it. End of," he added starring her in the face.
"I'll just have to go over your head to Mr Okaro then!" she protested.
"Be my guest but he'll just say the same as I have," Matt replied calmly.
" He can't! Someone has to do something…it can't stay like this," a couple of tears started to run down her face as all her memories of the murder came flooding back.
"Kerry, this isn't a battle worth fighting. I knew Cass a lot longer than you did and I would do anything to have her back here now but you just have to put it behind you, suck it all up inside, you have a job to do," he replied soberly.
"Her identity, those three numbers, were the last physical things of Cass left and now they're gone, assigned to some country boy who fancied a stab at life in the big city. Her locker has been cleared out, her flat stripped bare and even her grave is up in Liverpool. It's like she was never here at all!" Kerry, with more tears in her eyes, left the room immediately. Matt felt a little guilty that he couldn't help but decided to leave her to it, she'll come round in an hour or so. Kerry Young could strop for England. She closed the door with a loud bang that reverberated around the station.
"…And here we have Taft Road, the centre of Sun Hill's booming drug industry, known locally as Coke Lane," said Tony Stamp in the manner of a tour guide. Rob looked from left to right, gave a slight smile, and replied.
"The local beauty spot?"
"One amongst many. You haven't lived until you've seen the Jasmine Allen Estate in full bloom, teenage mothers, crackheads and yobbos as far as the eye can see. Certainly no reason for leaving leafy Surrey though," he added.
"This is where the action is, if you want to take part in real front line policing then you go into the Met. So I did," Rob replied walking a steady pace along the road feeling like the new sheriff in town surveying his patch.
"But in Sun Hill?"
"First place with a vacancy."
"Sounds a bit sudden."
"Act on impulse, as the advert says," he added.
"Welcome anyway. You've just come at a bit of a bad time that's all."
"Why's that?"
"Well surely you've heard about the explosion and everything else," Tony added soberly.
"That was here? Sorry I didn't realise, I did notice some of the others looking at me a bit strangely though."
"That's actually for another reason. Did you hear about the serial killer we had down here, Pat Kitson?"
"Yeah, on the news a few months back, is this about that WPC she killed?" Rob asked, looking all around him as he talked and taking all the sights sounds and smells of Sun Hill.
"Cass Rickman, that was her name, she was from this station too," Tony revealed slowly.
"Oh, sorry to hear that."
"…And you've got her number, 518," Tony added. He had recognised the number as Rob first walked in through the door and thought it only fair he knew before some irate member of the relief did something that they would regret. Kerry Young already had a stern look on her face throughout most of parade.
"Oh, great, just what I needed on my first day!" Rob complained. "This is just typical of my luck, I hoped this would be a change but I might as well give it up now. This is a bad omen."
"Its not as bad as all that, I'm sure everyone will get used to you in due course," Tony said trying to calm him down and a little taken aback at his reaction to the situation.
"This happened on my first day in Woking, well not this exactly, taking a dead officers number when the grave has barely been mown for the first time is a new one for me but just something bad y'know," Rob replied as they walked further down the street although he had started to go a little slower.
"What happened then?" Tony asked.
"Crime of the century, parked in the DI's space," he smiled.
"Doesn't sound too bad."
"Not on the top but he was a well respected man. Apparently he was stabbed once saving a teenage girl from a rapist and never showed a single moment of pain even holding onto the bloke until back up arrived. However nicking his parking space was seen as a newbie insulting the bloke and therefore the whole station. I was okay after a couple years worth of jokes though," he explained.
"This wasn't your fault though, some idiot in admin cocked it right up."
"Its still a bad omen though. I thought my flat was the only one."
"Your flat?"
"Room 101, not exactly a lucky number thanks to George Orwell," he replied.
Tony rolled his eyes a little. "Could be 1313 that would be worse wouldn't it? So where is this flat of doom located then, I presume it's not in the section house."
"Oldenburg House in Fawcett Gardens."
"Smart neighbourhood, better than the Skid Row my gaffs in," Tony replied, ushering Rob along.
"You have an actual Skid Row here?"
"No but plenty of contenders though," Tony laughed.
"How do you personally feel about me taking Cass's place?" Rob asked suddenly.
"No-one can take Cass's place," Tony replied sharply, "but what's in a number. I won't deny it'll be weird having 518 back on the air but its not as though this hasn't happened before. Enough numbers have changed hands around here in the past to make up many a lottery ticket. Can't speak for the other members of the relief though especially the younger ones, especially Nick Klein. You haven't met him yet but he's the one that really worries me."
"The sickie?"
"Yeah he's been a bit unreliable recently, not been all there since the death, he had some strong feelings for her, he's the one that found the body too," Tony explained.
"So I'm walking around with the spectre of a dead woman on my shoulder, half the station hates me for it and now I might even get assaulted by the psycho ex. Well this'll make an interesting story for the grandchildren, if I ever survive it that is," Rob mused as they continued on their way.