Chapter Twenty Three – The Truth

Former police sergeant Oscar Blaketon got out of his Volvo station wagon after having been told where to stand by a waving parking guard in the form of David Stockwell and headed for the area with party tents.

Once on the force, always on the force, he cast an eye around, scanning the surroundings for anything suspicious. Finding nothing that seemed to be out of the ordinary he set out for the beer tent.

Gina looked up, smiling, as he entered. "Hello, Oscar," she greeted. Come to take a look around?"

He nodded. "Something like that," he said in his usual stern voice and turned around as there was a commotion outside. Intrigued he walked out of the tent and spotted Sr. Maggie Bolton, PC Alf Ventress and the goat farmer Albert Alsop, the latter involved in an argument with his old nemesis, Claude Greengrass.

"I don't believe it," Claude spoke up in bewilderment. "Here I had been accused and distrusted and it's been his doing all along!"

"Calm down, Claude," Alf cautioned as several people around them had started to take interest in the little gathering.

"Calm down?" the old crook echoed. "I've endured a loss of income, been distrusted, my contracts with the local grocery store has been terminated," he complained.

"Well, then," Blaketon said as he stopped next to the upset man, looking smug, unable to contain his enjoyment. "It's about time you're on the other side Greengrass."

Claude rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Don't you have something better to do?" he asked sarcastically. "Like selling stamps?"

Maggie felt the need to step in. "So, all in all I don't think there's too much harm done Mr. Alsop but I must caution you that it could have gotten dire consequences for a lot of people," she said sternly.

Alsop nodded sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Sr. Bolton, I only thought so far. I just wanted to…I don't know, prevent him from getting lucky and rich on something I should have thought about a long time ago," he explained.

"My reputation has gone out the window," Claude said glumly.

"Like it was any better before, Greengrass," Blaketon quipped.

"Maybe I can repay you," Albert offered. "Name a fair price for the goats and I'll incorporate them into my business."

The corner of Claude's lips curled slightly upward before he broke into a cunning grin. "Maybe you're on to something," he replied.

"That's a good idea Mr. Alsop," Maggie concurred.

"Can we let the matter rest now?" Alf asked carefully. "The charges will be dropped against you Claude," he added at the questionable look on the scruffy man's face.

"I don't believe it," Blaketon muttered. "I don't believe in luck but after this I might have to reconsider," he said sullenly and walked off.

OOOOOO

Sergeant Lancewood frowned skeptically as young David Stockwell suddenly waved a parking sign in front of the windscreen on the panda car.

Phil Bellamy opened the window and nodded at him. "Let us in David," he said kindly.

"Sure Mr. Bellamy," he replied and stepped aside to let the car inside the marked area.

"Another local?" the relief sergeant asked sarcastically. "Is he, you know, all there?"

Phil chuckled as he pulled up next to the black Ford Anglia police car. "He's harmless, sergeant. Maybe a little lost, since his old mum died, but we are doing our best to take care of him," he said.

"By saying we, I take it you mean the other villagers?" Lancewood asked quizzically with dryness in his voice.

Phil nodded as they got out of the car, he from the driver's seat and Lancewood from the passenger seat. "This is where the annual foxhunt is taking place; at the Ashfordly Estate. This year it has been extended with a market for the locals and some smaller competitions for the children," he explained.

Lancewood nodded. "With a few agility classes for rabbits and a 'jump in the sack' race?" he asked unenthusiastically.

Phil sighed inwardly. He really wished Nick would get back on his feet soon, real soon. This man was a nightmare to work with and he was always watching over your shoulder. He never thought he would say it but Blaketon wasn't so bad after all.

"Why don't you patrol the perimeter Constable Bellamy? Take a look around and make sure there isn't anything going on. I'll head for the beer tent to make sure everything is done by the book," he commanded and strode off, leaving Phil with a sullen look on his face.

"Why the long face?" Ventress asked with a slight tease in his voice as the relief sergeant slipped into the beer tent.

Phil turned around to find his older colleague standing behind him, looking smug.

"Patrolling the perimeter," Phil muttered, "like there would be someone hanging around out there, on the outskirts of the estate. Not even Greengrass would a day like this."

Alf grinned. "I'll stroll around for a while. I can report the standings in the competitions for you when you get back," he said and patted his younger colleague on the back.

"Not so fast," Phil returned with a twinkle in his eyes. "You're wanted back at the station. Mike is waiting for you to come and take over the radio and man the place."

Alf opened his mouth to protest.

"Sorry Alf, no beer drinking on duty, no gossiping with the locals or putting up your feet somewhere," he said.

"Well then, back to the station it is. I could always do with a quiet afternoon all by myself. A fag, a nice cup of tea and some newspaper reading," he reasoned. "You'll still have to patrol the perimeter."

Maggie cast a quick glance at the two constables and smiled before heading into the beer tent just barely catching on to the last piece of the conversation going on between Lancewood and Gina.

"…so in the future I would appreciate if you would have your license with you and be able to verify that you're who you say you are," the relief sergeant finished.

Gina looked like she was ready to explode but when she spoke it was with a calm and fairly neutral voice. "Sergeant Lancewood," she began, "I'm here because the lordship hired me to be here. I am who I say I am. You could ask every single person in here and they will verify things for you."

"Very well, there have been no complaints to speak of. But I'll keep my eyes open," he replied sternly.

"You do that, preferably on petty thieves or other things that could involve policing," she returned. "Don't arrest the lordship or his foxhunting friends, they're licensed to be here," she added.

He pursed his lips together but decided to keep quiet and turned on his heels to exit the tent as Maggie walked up to the counter, trying to keep a straight face.

"Well, that told him," the nurse said in amusement.

"I agree with Oscar Blaketon, the man is a pain in the ass," Gina replied.

Maggie chuckled. "He said so?" she asked.

"Not in so many words but I think Greengrass did," she let on with a cunning smile. "So, how's the day coming for you?"

"So far so good," Maggie let on. "No broken bones as of yet but the hunt has only just started and the competitions won't be over for several hours. Then there is the rest of the week."

"So far so good, hey?" the barmaid said and poured a glass of orange juice. "Here, it's on the house. I could use some company."

OOOOOO

Doctor Neil Bolton removed the stethoscope from Nick's chest and then nodded. "Everything seems to be in order," he said as he walked over to adjust the drip and then went on to scribble down a few notes on the medical sheet next to the bed.

Nick sighed and shifted to a more comfortable position on the bed. He gently reached up to massage his temples.

The doctor looked up from the chart with a frown. "You're still experiencing headaches?" It was more of a statement than a question.

Nick nodded slightly as he let his hand come to rest next to his side.

"I'll see what I can do about that but it's not surprising considering what you've been through. Don't expect everything to return to normal just yet. Head injuries are tricky business," Neil said seriously before continuing. "I have to admit that for a while there…" he said no more, needn't say no more.

"Thanks doctor," the young sergeant returned wearily.

Neil smiled faintly, returning the faint smile on Nick's pale face. "I'll be back shortly," he said and turned to walk out just as the door opened revealing Mike Bradley.

"Constable Bradley," Neil acknowledged.

"Doctor Bolton," he returned politely and looked after him, as he disappeared out in the corridor, before refocusing on his sergeant. "Nick."

"Mike, you seem cheerful today," he said with a slight tease despite the dull headache.

"Yeah, I'm glad the first day of the hunt went by smoothly," he replied with a smirk.

"Why, is there something I should know about?" Nick asked curiously.

"Sergeant Lancewood is really something," Mike let on.

An amused look crossed Nick's face for a moment. "It's not easy coming from the outside, you know," he implicated since both of them came from London.

Mike chuckled lightly. "I think he's had it coming," he let on cryptically.

Nick made a face and clasped his hands together on his stomach, waiting for Bradley to continue.

"He's been asking Gina about her license for running the beer tent, coordinated with the game keeper and had us patrolling the perimeter. Then he relieved poor David Stockwell of the parking duties and agreed for the police to take over since David managed to upset some old, rich lady. He's even been asking the lordship if he's been satisfied with efforts made by the Constabulary," Mike said.

"Technically there's nothing wrong with that, he's doing everything by the book," Nick said.

"It's…I don't know, it feels like he's keen to show something," the constable said thoughtfully.

Nick smiled faintly. "You begin to sound like Oscar Blaketon," he said amusedly.

"Anyway, we'll see what happens tomorrow," Mike said, purposely avoiding the statement. "You better get out of that hospital bed of yours before he gives us too much trouble."

"I promise you; as soon as I'm let out of this place, I will," Nick returned in exasperation.

"Jokes aside, Sarge, how are you feeling?" Mike asked.

"I feel weak and I can't seem to get rid of this headache," he returned seriously. "But I won't let it keep me away too long," he added with a smirk as Doctor Bolton appeared in the doorway.

"Glad to hear it, Sarge. I better head over to the Ashfordly Estate early tomorrow before something happens," he offered slightly amused.

"It's usually the riding party that stands for the accusations and trouble but then again this situation has never arisen before," Nick replied, looking smug. "And then there's Greengrass."

"I think he's been taken care of this time," Mike assured him cunningly. "Take care, Sarge," he added and headed for the door.

OOOOOO

To be continued

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