Life in Aidensfield
Chapter Four: Old Wounds
POV: Police Constable John Stockwell
Dragging the shop-girl towards the station, I growled. Some of the residents of Ashfordly watched me carting the nutcase off to the station. I ignored them and continued walking on, malice in my eyes.
Grabbing the doorknob and turning it, I pushed the blue door open with my shoulder and wrenched the wriggling idiot along with me. Looking at Alf, I near-shouted at him. "Alf, get Sarge! This damned fool went for Jenny Merton with a knife!"
With widening-eyes, Alf got up and nearly ran to Sarge's office. I could hear muffled voices before stomping footsteps heading in my direction. I didn't need to guess who they belonged to. Standing in front of me was Oscar Blaketon, the finest Sergeant I ever worked with.
"Stockwell... Get her in that bloody room! I'll call Division, likely they'll send DI Shiner! As soon as she's in there, Bellamy, keep an eye on her. Stockwell, I'll want a word with you in two minutes!"
"Yes, Sarge." He glared at the suspect I still had a hold of. The woman turned her head to look at me, pursing her lips. I immediately moved her out to arm's length, absolutely REFUSING to give her a chance. Phil moved up behind us and opened the door to the Interview Room.
Oscar then walked off and I dragged Mary-Anne into the Interview Room, plopping her down onto the chair. I snarled at her. "YOU STAY THERE." Turning to look at Phil, I bobbed my head to one side, gesturing to the room.
"She's all yours, Phil." Nodding, Phil walked through the doorway and closed the door behind him. Alf looked up at me from his desk, offering a cigarette to me. Nodding, I picked it up. "Cheers, Alf."
Just as I was about to place the filter end to my lips, I heard a loud, booming voice from the end of the hall. "STOCKWELL! MY OFFICE! NOW!" Resting the stick on the top of my ear, I tried to hide it behind my hair, which was a bit of a mess. (Ran out of Brylcreem for the morning's prep, you see).
Walking into the office, I closed the door behind me and stood in front of Oscar's desk. He looked up from a folder (looked to be a crime report) and stared at me. I was used to it, but I didn't meet his gaze until he spoke to me.
"Stockwell, it seems you can't follow the instructions given to you by Division!" Grunting internally, I tried to plead my case. "Sarge, there was nothing else I could do, Mrs. Merton was..." There was a very brief moment of silence.
Oscar looked down at his desk, sighed and then looked up at me. "Aye, I know, Stockwell. Despite your current state of health, you performed admirably. I know you did what needed to be done, and I imagine Mr. and Mrs. Merton will be singing your praises for some time."
I nodded, but I didn't care about the glory and recognition. I was no Nick Rowan, after all! "Yes, Sarge." Just as Oscar was about to speak, there was a knock against the office door. "Enter!" Alf walked in.
"Sarge, DI Shiner is here, he's asking to see you and PC Stockwell." Turning his head to look at Alf, Oscar nodded. "Right, we'll be right there. After you, Stockwell. Oh, and... You'd best give that cigarette to Ventress..." Plucking the stick from my ear and giving it to Alf, I turned to look at my Sergeant again. "Sarge." Nodding, I followed Alf to the Duty Room and Oscar followed me.
I stood in the middle of the room and was face-to-face with Detective Inspector Shiner, a hard but fair man, born to serve within Division. He stared at me briefly, and I was respectful, standing to attention. It wasn't my first encounter with the DI. "Stockwell." Remaining at attention, I spoke. "Sir."
Oscar then walked up to Shiner and nodded. "Welcome back to Ashfordly, Sir." Nodding, Shiner turned back to me. "Where is our assailant?" "Interview Room, Sir." Nodding, he kept his gaze on me.
"Stockwell, with me. Let's sort this mess out." I wanted to speak up about why Mary-Anne had attacked Jenny, but I knew my head would be on the chopping block, so I said nothing. "Yes, Sir." Following Shiner to the Interview Room, the front door to the station opened and Maggie walked in, carrying the cloth bag of takings in her hand.
I smiled at her, and she mirrored mine. I mouthed three words to her, not wanting the DI to hear me. 'See you soon.'. She mouthed two words back, and I nodded, then turning into the Interview Room. 'Likewise.'.
Shiner looked at Phil and spoke to him. "Constable Bellamy, leave us, please." "Yes, Sir." Nodding, Phil got up and left the room. Shiner sat down opposite Mary-Anne and I followed suit. Picking up the Crime Sheet, he studied it for a moment before handing it to me. I removed a black biro from my jacket pocket and began writing on the paper.
"You are Mary-Anne Sykes, of twenty-four Cliff Lane, Ashfordly, correct?" She said nothing until I glared at her. "No other woman here, is there?" Ignoring the sarcasm, the DI continued. "You told PC Bellamy that you attacked your employer, a Mrs. Jennifer Merton with a kitchen knife, correct?"
Turning her nose up at Shiner, she nodded. "So? I'd do it a thousand times more if it would mean removing all competition." Raising an eyebrow, the DI questioned further. "Competition?" Mary-Anne cackled with glee.
"Yeah, Merton, that tart Gina Ward and ESPECIALLY Maggie Bolton, the old tramp from Aidensfield! Your Constable and I belong together!" Turning his head to look at me, Shiner could see the rage in my eyes.
"Are you saying that you and Constable Stockwell are romantically involved, Miss Sykes?" Grinning at me, she nodded. "Oh, yes, we are! He just doesn't know it yet!" Looking at me again, Shiner almost glared.
"Constable, is what Miss Sykes saying is true?" Shaking my head rapidly, I kept my gaze locked on the DI. "Not at all, Sir. No way in Hell is any of it true! I'd happily swear that in court, Sir!" Nodding, Shiner turned to look at Mary-Anne one last time.
"Mary-Anne Sykes, I am charging you with Grievous Bodily Harm and wielding a deadly weapon. You will be remanded in custody until your trial date at York Crown Court. PC Stockwell, remove her from the Interview Room, we're done here."
Never had I felt so happy to work with Detective Inspector Shiner! Feeling victorious, I stood behind Mary-Anne and grabbed her wrists, dragging her along once again, but to the cells this time. "Come along, Miss Sykes." She offered little resistance, but I wasn't going to take the chance. She'd caused more than enough problems already.
Nudging her inside the cell, I closed and locked the door behind her, double-checking that it was secure. "YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME! WE BELONG TOGETHER!" Removing my truncheon from my belt, I rapped it against the thick door, growling.
"Shut up in there!" Re-fastening the weapon to my belt, Phil walked up to me, a slight smirk on his lips. "And the award for Most Eventful Lunch Break goes to..." Glaring at one of my best friends, I lightly punched his shoulder, chuckling.
"So much for light duty. I hope Alf hasn't smoked that fag he gave me. Come on, likely Shiner will want another word with me." Grinning knowingly, Phil followed me back to the Duty Room. Upon entry, I saw Maggie being led into the Interview Room, followed by Shiner and Alf. "If you'd like to step this way, Ms. Bolton."
I was about to walk over to Alf's desk when the front door opened again. In walked Mike, closely followed by his wife, Jackie Bradley. No leather bag in her hand, which I found odd. Mike nodded at me, and Jackie gave me a sympathetic look.
"How are you, John?" Sighing, I turned to look at the door before turning my attention back to Jackie. "Worried about Maggie, and I have some minor pain where my stitches are. I hope to God they haven't come loose."
Taking a step closer, Jackie gestured to the door. "Are they all in there now?" I nodded at Jackie, before moving to sit down on top of Phil's desk, clutching my side and managing to fight back a hiss. "Jesus, that's suddenly gotten worse..."
Mike and Jackie walked towards me, but I raised a hand. "I'm all right, don't fret. I'll wait for Maggie and she can examine me." The couple gave me a look that said 'Are you sure?', and I nodded.
"Aye, don't worry. What brings you here, Mrs. Bradley? I don't see your bag with you; normally you never leave home without it!" Trying to fight back a grin, she walked over to my corner desk and sat down.
"My bag's in the car, I have business in the area." Smirking at her, I chuckled. "Anything we should worry about?" Raising a finger to her lips, Jackie finally grinned. "If I'm here again, you'll know."
The entire Duty Room laughed, until Sarge walked in.
"Am I missing something? Ah, good of you to join us, Bradley! What brings you here, Mrs. Bradley?" Turning on her heel to look at Oscar, Jackie answered his question. "Nothing of a legal nature, Sergeant. Just popping in. If you'll excuse me, I'm needed elsewhere. Oh, and, John?" I watched her get up from my desk and maintained my gaze on her.
"Yes, Jackie?" Jackie dusted off her knee-length skirt before smiling at me. "We're all going for a drink tonight at The Aidensfield Arms. You, Alf, Maggie, Mike, Phil and myself. We should all celebrate after your heroics. No argument."
Nodding in agreement, my smile soon dropped when I saw the Interview Room door opening. Maggie walked out first, followed by DI Shiner and then Alf. "That will be all, Ms. Bolton. Thank you for your time."
Nodding in respect, Maggie noticed my hand over my stitched wound and walked over to me, immediately bringing Phil's chair over to examine any possibly damage. Hastily unfastening my tunic, I then untucked my shirt and exposed my stitches to my fiance.
Staring intently and hovering a finger over the stitches, she bit her lip, deep in thought. Hearing footsteps, I immediately tucked my shirt back in and tried to fasten my tunic as quickly as possible. Sarge walked in, his keen eye picking up suspicion.
"STOCKWELL! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!?" Maggie stood up and turned to face Oscar. "Sergeant, I was examining your Constable's stitches as he is in some discomfort." Raising an eyebrow and leaning in close to me (intimidating in his ways, classic Oscar!), "Is your fiancé telling the truth, Stockwell?"
I resisted the strong urge to glare at Sarge. I was bloody offended that he even ACCUSED Maggie of lying! "Yes, she is telling the truth, Sergeant. She has no reason to lie, and neither do I." Seeming satisfied with my answer, Oscar nodded.
"Right, back to paperwork, Stockwell. Nurse Bolton, can we help you with anything else?" Shaking her head, Maggie looked at me, concern deep in her eyes. "Not for the moment, Sergeant. If there's anything, I'll telephone."
"Then, if you don't mind... This station is getting a little crowded." Placing the takings bag on Phil's desk, Maggie then sported a wide grin as she looked at the station one last time. "Have fun, boys! I'll see you tonight, Constable..."
Looking back at her with a grin that mirrored her own, I watched her walk in the direction of the front door. "Not if I see you first, Nurse!" Smirking and blowing me a kiss before opening the blue door, I outstretched my arm and "caught it".
As Maggie left, I turned to look at Alf who had a smug grin plastered on his face. I cut him off mid-sentence. "You soppy..." I glared at him, feeling a bit edgy. "Cigarette. Now." Retaining the smug look, he handed me the cigarette which I almost snatched out of his hand.
Removing my Zippo lighter from my jacket, I flicked it open and lit my cigarette. Sighing happily as the nicotine flooded my lungs and bloodstream (as I always do, not sure why.), I sat back down at my desk and was about to open a file when I heard footsteps behind me.
I span round on my wooden chair and saw Mike with an ashtray in one hand and his other hand resting gently on my shoulder. "John, are you sure you're all right?" Taking the ashtray and turning my head to the side to blow a lungful of smoke away from Mike's face, I nodded.
"Mike, I'm fine. Well, tired, but nothing a good brew won't cure!" Phil walked into the Duty Room, carrying a metal tray; resting on it was four mugs of tea. "Now, it would be something stronger, but that'll have to wait until tonight!"
The four of us grinned as we drank from our mugs. Once our tea was finished, mugs were placed in the sink and we went back to our respective desks (Mike opted to sit on the high-chair facing the partition window, and began work on the duty register).
The hours soon passed, and our shifts were over. Mike had left an hour before, and we packed up and headed for our respective homes to change into civvies for a round of drinks at our local, The Aidensfield Arms.
I sure as Hell needed a drink.
End of Chapter 4
