The Opal Pendant (A Little Crazy)

Chapter Nine

Chief Inspector Joyce Parsons dumped her bag on the floor and kicked it under her desk. It was her just-in-case kit. She had a complete change of clothes, two knickers, and an unopened makeup. She glanced at the pile of files on her desk. It would take time to become used to being a manager of inspectors and their teams.

A uniformed officer entered her office without knocking.

The tall, slim, blonde woman spoke with a soft northern accent. "Good morning Mam."

Joyce grinned. "Two things. Don't call me mam. Governor or boss will suffice."

"Fine, boss. The governor demands your presence this morning at ten."

"No doubt my first bollocking of the week."

"He usually waits one day," said the blonde as she walked away.

"Thanks for the thumbs up."

Joyce glanced at her watch, nine-thirty. Her telephone buzzed.

"Chief Inspector Parsons. She recognised the voice at the end of the line.

"Inspector Brown, mam. Remember the tow rag who battered his wife every Friday night."

"Rings a bell, Graham. What's he done this time?"

"He's murdered her and done a runner."

"I know the address, but give it to me anyway." As he spoke, she wrote it on a pad. You know what needs to be done. I'm on my way."

Without pausing, she replaced the handset and left. At the reception desk, she stopped. "Sergeant, tell the governor I'm off to a murder. I'll give him a bell later and rearrange our meeting."

The sergeant laughed. "No problem, mam."

She shouted as the automatic doors opened, "It's boss, sergeant.

With her blue light flashing, she negotiated the town's traffic as she drove to what she considered the arsehole of the world. The people who existed on this forgotten council estate she knew well. The children rarely went to school, and most relationships split with one or both partners spending time in prison. Joy smiled as she realised how many hours she spent sorting out domestics. Those who managed to escape operated as dealers or pimps and the like. They bought their three-bed semi only to have it reposed when they ended up dead or in court.

The estate was a ghetto filled with those who lost hope years ago. Every family lived on the poverty line. Here children went to school if they wanted to. Most did not and poked fun at those who did. Many smoked and drank themselves into oblivion. Radios and televisions blasted out the sound of the day. A fifty-quid win at the bingo on a Friday night changed nothing; the women ended up pissed out of their minds having sex with someone they didn't know in the underground car park. Ironically their moment of pleasure gave them hope where there wasn't any.

She stopped her car out in the open. As she exited, a constable, straight out of the police college, shouted. "You can't park there, missus."

She removed her warrant card from her skirt pocket. "I have, and please make sure my car has four wheels when I return."

The young man almost blushed when he realised who she was. "Sorry, mam. The CSO told me to keep this area clear for the forensic team."

She smiled. "Absolutely."

In the stairwell of the building, dressed in white coveralls, plastic overshoes, gloves, and masks, Roger Brown and his team waited for the forensic team to arrive.

"Great start to the day Gov. Spare coveralls are," he pointed under the stairs, "Over there."

Dressed, Joy nodded to Roger. "Lead on."