Chapter Six - Questions

Mike glanced at his watch in irritation. "Come on Phil, what's keeping you?" he mumbled.

He carefully began to walk toward the entrance of the building, leaving his motorbike around the corner and smiled faintly as Phil came walking around the other corner.

"Shall we enter then?" Phil suggested.

"What happened? Did the car break down or something?" Mike asked.

"No," Phil returned, "I just couldn't find the accelerator," he replied smartly.

His colleague rolled his eyes as he pushed the door open. Despite the clock passing half past six in the evening people came and went like normal working hours.

"Seriously Mike, I just came from our equivalences in this town and there aren't any records of a Charlie Chadwick," he said as Mike turned to him with a questionable look on his face. "Okay, there's an office rented in the name of Charlie Chadwick but the man himself doesn't exist. Apparently the CID has taken interest in him but no actions has been taken against him, nor the so called legal business that Ted Jones spoke off," he added as a way of explanation.

"So Shiner has got his eyes peeled on him already?" Mike asked.

"Seems that way but it's hidden in darkness, the whole operation. I don't think they have anything to go on yet," Phil explained. "Seems the only thing they have is circumstantial."

Mike made a face as they stepped into the elevator in the lobby. "What exactly is his business?" he asked curiously.

"He is manufacturing toys," Phil let on with a raised eyebrow.

"Doesn't make sense. Why would someone manufacturing toys hire an old worn down lorry garage in Ashfordly?" he returned.

"More importantly; who is this guy really?" Phil countered.

OOOOOO

Alf Ventress looked up as the door jingle sounded and then back at the newspaper in front of him as it wasn't the person he was supposed to meet. He enjoyed the peace and quiet, the atmosphere in the café, but he'd really fancied having a beer. Instead he puffed lightly on his cigar and cast a sideway glance as he thought he saw one of Mrs. Ventress' friends. He was so caught up on it that he missed that his company had arrived and jumped as the man sat down opposite him.

"For a police officer you don't have the right feeling for private investigating," Oscar Blaketon said sharply.

Alf blew out a large puff of smoke. "For a moment there I thought I'd been recognized by one of Mrs. Ventress' friends, a real gossiper," he said.

Oscar carefully let his eyes roam over the nearest tables.

"I was wrong," Alf filled in. "And, speaking of gossip, what is it I hear about Greengrass and Alsop?"

"Alsop is convinced that Greengrass used foul play to get over the goats at the auction. He even considered that Greengrass was a middleman for that goat theft business that has been going on up in Scarborough," Blaketon explained.

"Huh," Alf snorted as he gently knocked the cigar at the edge of the ashtray. "The police in Scarborough apprehended the three young lads that rounded up goats in the area, a week ago," he let on. "As I'm sure you've heard on the radio and why should Claude have anything to do with it?"

"Come on Alf, the man has a way of getting into some shady business every now and then," Oscar returned, slightly annoyed at his friend.

"For your information I was at the auction because Nick wanted a police presence up there. It was the quietest auction I've ever been on. Everything went according to the book. Claude bought the animals fair and square," Alf replied.

Oscar looked down at the table.

"Let it go, Oscar. Albert is just jealous of him because he managed to do something that he never even had considered doing and got money out of it," Alf reasoned. "There's nothing to go on."

OOOOOO

"Hello, Gina," Mike said as he walked up to the bar with a charming smile.

"Hello, Mike," she greeted happily. "How's the new Aidensfield bobby settling in?"

He absentmindedly scratched his head. "Well, I hadn't really expected to get my own patch, you know, when I arrived here four months ago," he let on sincerely. "By the way; how long am I going to be new around here?"

Gina ignored the last remark. "Well, it was due to happen," she said. "I mean with Nick more and more behind the sergeant's desk in Ashfordly someone has to take over Aidensfield, or at least take some workload off of his shoulders."

"Yeah, but still…after all the trouble that I caused in the beginning, you know the dead guy and all that…" he trailed off sheepishly. "And now this," he mumbled.

"What did Nick say?" she asked softly.

"Well, he wasn't too pleased about us screwing up, failing to catch this Ted Jones character down in Pickering," Mike muttered. "There was no sign of him you know, like the earth had swallowed him."

"Do you think of yourself as a bad copper?" she asked.

"No," Mike replied.

"There you go," she said with a soft smile, her dimples appearing.

Mike gave her an appreciative smile and was about to say something when Phil walked through the door and headed straight for the bar.

"There you are," Phil said somewhat relieved at having found his colleague but not at having found him with his love interest. He pushed away the jealousy he was feeling and nodded. "Look, we better head over to the station. Sarge called on the radio, something's up," he said.

Mike returned the nod with a frown and then turned back to Gina. "I guess I see you when I see you," the constable said and offered an apologetic half-smile.

"Cheerio," the barmaid returned and looked from Mike to Phil and then back again.

As they had walked out through the main entrance Phil stopped and turned to face his colleague, setting his jaw.

"Whoa, Phil, what's the matter?" Mike asked casually.

"Is there something going on between you and Gina?" he asked bluntly.

Mike shrugged. "She's a fun girl and quite good-looking too," he said.

"Like I didn't know," Phil mumbled under his breath.

"What?" Mike asked with an incredulous look on his face, not really getting what it was his colleague was so upset about.

"Nothing," Phil finally managed. "I see you back at the station," he added sourly as he jumped into the car.

OOOOOO

Nick nodded tiredly from where he was standing, next to Alf Ventress' desk, to his officers as they walked through the door to the station.

Mike and Phil hastily sat down on their respective chairs waiting for him to speak, their coats on and their helmets in hand.

"I've just been on the phone with DI Shiner and we have come to an agreement that it's best for us to coordinate our efforts. It seems this Ted Jones is involved in something more than just, perhaps, the antiques thefts," he explained and turned to look at Phil. "As our colleagues from Pickering told you this Charlie Chadwick character is dodgy at best and DI Shiner has had him under surveillance for quite some time. Unfortunately nothing has been revealed," Nick finished.

"What now, Sarge?" Mike spoke up. "Are we allowed to get intel about this from CID?" he asked.

Nick nodded. "DI Shiner will arrive tomorrow and explain the situation from their angle and together we might be on to something," he explained. "But first…," he added and pointed at Mike and Phil, "…we are going to catch some burglars."

"Sarge?" Alf asked curiously as he leaned forward in his chair.

"Seems the bait we put in in the newspaper a couple of days ago, about the valuable statues in Mr. Simpsons garden, has stirred something," Nick let on, looking smug. "He called me earlier and said that it was his impression that someone had been there tonight and done some reconnaissance."

Mike smiled, catching on to Sergeant Rowans' train of thoughts. "We might have lost Ted Jones but we still have a chance to stop this antiques league," he said.

OOOOOO

Three hours later Alf Ventress had just gotten off the phone with Mr. Simpson as Nick and Mike came out of the corridor leading from the holding cells.

"Two down one to go," Mike said happily.

Nick nodded. "I guess I shouldn't be satisfied with that result but strangely I am," he said.

"Yeah, bait paid off, Sarge. It was quite cunning," Mike praised.

"I thought so too, Mike," he replied with a smirk.

Alf looked up as the two of them walked out in the duty room. "Sarge," he acknowledged. "I've just spoken to Mr. Simpson. He's grateful we managed to prevent the men from raiding his garden," the old copper said.

"I'm glad he let us use it in order to catch them," Nick returned and scrutinized him for a moment with a slight concerned look. "Are you sure you're alright Alf?" he asked softly.

Mike chuckled as he too turned to look at his older colleague and at the quite impressive shiner that was turning vivid colors on his cheek.

"He got in a lucky punch that's all," Alf replied casually with shrug. "I was this close to nailing him," he added. "By the way, where were you? I could have used some backup."

"Busy hauling the other guy to the panda car," Mike returned, hands crossed over his chest.

Alf made a face and turned to his former equal. "And you Sarge?" he questioned.

"Cuffing another one to the gate while heading up to the house to make sure nothing had happened to Mr. Simpson," Nick said with a smirk.

"And I was here, manning the radio," Phil spoke up as he walked out of the kitchenette with a steaming cup of tea."

"Well, I think you should have that checked out properly, Alf," Nick said seriously. "I'll drop you off at the hospital on my way home."

"I'll take care of things here," Phil said.

OOOOOO

Mike Bradley whistled happily as he killed the engine on his motorbike and pulled down the support, jumping off of it outside the Aidensfield Arms. He nodded politely at an older couple as he passed them on his way in.

The pub was dimly lit and smoke hung in the air from several cigarettes smoked in the bar. The mood was high, cheerful even as he stepped through the inner door and into the room.

"Hello, Mike," Gina said joyfully albeit tiredly.

He smiled as he spotted her behind the counter busy with serving various customers, both local and foreigners. He caught himself chuckling. 'Foreigners?' he thought, 'that's probably what they call me too.'

"Come to lend me hand have you?" the barmaid asked with a grin.

The young policeman opened his mouth to say something but obviously changed his mind. Instead he frowned and reached up to scratch his forehead while glancing round the immediate area. "Well, you sure look like you could use an extra pair of hands," he said. "But I don't think Sergeant Rowan would approve of me handing out pints in my uniform," he added apologetically.

"Well, go on then, get home and change. I will wait for you," Gina replied cheekily. "Without uniform you're free to do what you like and, I know Nick. I call him a good friend of mine."

The former London copper smiled sheepishly and then there was a spark in his eyes. "Why not?" he returned. "I'll be back in two."

OOOOOO

To be continued

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