2. Desk Job.

Glumly Bill looked at the mountain of paperwork that had been dumped on his desk. Two weeks desk duty. He sighed. It was a bit hard, really, it was only because Ted Simmons had attacked him first. Alright, he probably shouldn't have kicked him as well, once he was down. Guess he was lucky it wasn't worse and Lawson hadn't suspended him. Sighing again he reached for the first report and started to scan it.

Bicycle thefts again. Bill read over the report taken by the front desk Constable. Sad, little kid left his bike outside a Milk Bar and it was gone when he came back. Could just be other kids nicking it. But it was the sixth missing bike report that had crossed his desk this week and it was only Tuesday. Bill tapped his lip with a pencil thoughtfully. All within the same area of Golden Square. He called Ned over to his desk. 'These bike thefts, have you checked Al's scrapyard yet?'

Ned shook his head no. 'Just kids 'borrowing' them, we thought.'

'No, too many to be just kids I think. Al's son Mark is back in town. He has form for petty theft. Thieving little toe-rag he is. Probably be a thought to just have a look around the yard, eh?'

'Right,' Ned nodded and took off.

Bill scanned the next report. Another drunk and disorderly. Been a few too many of those recently too. All happening well after 6pm closing. All arrested close to old Bob O'Brien's place.

'Charlie,' he called out. Charlie looked over to Bill. 'Reckon O'Brien's back in business.'

Charlie nodded. 'I'll check it out.' And off he went.

The clock on the wall ticked out the long seconds. Bill continued to wade through the paperwork, sorting and filing. In the background he could hear Doctor Blake and Chief Inspector Lawson discussing the latest murder case. A young man found stabbed in a back alley. Bill pricked up his ears. Governor's alley?

'Boss?' he called out.

'Yes? What?' growled Lawson. He was still annoyed with Bill for kicking Ted Simmons.

'You said Governor's alley, right?' Lawson nodded. 'I've been keeping an eye on it. Haven't been able to prove anything, but I am sure Jake the SP Bookie has set up shop again. He's got a back entrance to the alley from his store and there have been a lot of blokes hanging about there, lately. Looks like he's got a few of the local lads employed as bag men and runners.'

'Hmmm.' Lawson looked thoughtful. 'Let's go talk to Jake, Lucien. Stay here Bill and mind the shop.' Grabbing their hats, the two men left to investigate.

Quiet settled over the office again. Only the sound of Bill shuffling paper broke the silence. Another report of vandalism at the boat shed. That'd be the boys from Wendouree Grammar boat club. The idiots had painted their club symbol 'WRB' (Wendouree Rower Boys) all over the boats. Idiots. He told Constable Parkinson on the front desk and let him deal with it. Then returned to his desk and soldiered on grimly.

He stretched and yawned and got up to grab another cup of tea from out the back. As he passed the front desk with his cup in hand, Constable Parks entered through the front door of the station with a dishevelled man in an arm look. He marched the man up to the front desk. Bill watched on with interest.

'Found this guy throwing rocks through the second story window of the Crown hotel,' Parks announced to Constable Parkinson on the front desk. 'Hasn't got any wallet or i.d., won't give his name or the reason why he was doing it. He's been arrested for Damage and Public affray.' The man in his grasp struggled and cried out 'Bloody coppers!'

Bill studied the struggling man. 'Calm down Robert.' He said gruffly. He turned to the two constables, 'You've got Robert Newson there. His wife just left him and has been holed up in the Crown with some other bloke. Reckon he just found out where she was and he was making his displeasure known. Isn't that right Rob?' The man slumped in defeat and nodded. Bill reached out and gave Robert a bit of pat on the shoulder. 'Buck up man, these blokes here are understanding sorts. Just let them do their job, it'll all work out in the end.'

Bill turned to resume his deskwork. For the rest of the day he worked on. Officers came and went; more reports were placed on his desk to review, sort and file. He ploughed on through the chaos, dispensing advice where needed, helping out when he could. Finally, he heard someone clearing their throat, looked up and saw Lawson standing in front of his desk quietly looking down at him. 'Yes Boss?'

Lawson read from a list in his hand. 'Today's clear up rate: Mark Spencer arrested for the theft and illegal resale of at least 18 bicycles. Bob O'Brien's illegal grog shop has been shut and he is also under arrest. Robert Newson has been released on a good behaviour bond on your recommendation. The Wendouree Grammar has made recompense and the lads involved will be spending a few weekends fixing the boatshed. Jake Franklin's place has been raided and he's been arrested for illegal bookmaking. One of his customers has admitted stabbing the runner and stealing the day's takings from him.'

Bill just looked up at Lawson and blinked. And this concerned him how? He thought.

'Bill', sighed Lawson, 'Your information lead to every case today being sorted. You're more bloody use to me on the streets than pushing paper about. Pack this in and tomorrow get back out there and do your job.'

A big smile stole over Bill's face. He nodded to Lawson, 'Right Boss,' then cleaned up his desk and went home for the night.

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