The Opal Pendant (A Little Crazy)

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Rupert's mind raced as he walked at a steady pace. He wondered why he stopped outside The Red Lion, a pub frequented by station officers when not on duty or, like him, on their way home.

He hesitated before entering. He muttered one pint for old-time sake, pushed the door, and strolled inside.

"Good evening, Jake."

"Bloody hell, Rupert Parsons. Is the world about to end, or are you lost?"

"I needed someone to talk to, and I knew you were still running this den of iniquity. Pint of your best bitter, please. You're quiet for a Saturday night."

"Those who were here have gone to grab a granny night. No doubt they told their wives they were working overtime."

Rupert smiled as his eyes took in the familiar smoke-darkened decor. "Nothing changes."

Jake passed a full pint glass across the bar. "One thing does. We're older. Strange though, the last time you drank in here was when they promoted you to a wet behind the ears Detective Inspector. From that moment, the job was your priority in life. Even your missus was a copper."

"We are still together. Joyce is a chief Inspector these days."

Jake leant on the polished bar top. "You said you wanted to talk. Why me?"

Rupert sipped his beer. "You still serve a good pint. Why you? I miss the job, and you've seen them come and go, and you never tell tales."

Jake nodded. "I did hear you'd been passed over for promotion. I'm reliably informed the person who took over is a dickhead. You were a good copper, and your arrest record was impressive. The bad guys knew where they stood with you."

"These days, I'm the district records officer, and they allow me to check out cold cases. I have a real sergeant to make whatever I do legal. I used to have hutches. Gut feelings which proved correct most of the time. I'm involved in a case of missing persons, and I know who, how, and almost when. I need a search warrant but receive no support from him at the top. He wants irrefutable evidence before authorising a warrant. It's a catch-22 scenario."

Jake went to the optic stand and gave himself a double gin. "Are you telling me your hands are tied?

"Yes." Rupert nodded, reached for his beer, took a mouthful and placed it back on the bar.

"Tell me, Rupert, what would you have done when you were the big boss?"

"I'd have given the officer in charge the warrant."

"Would you? I'll be honest: I don't believe you."

"If the officer presented me with a proper report, he would have his warrant. Anyway, why don't you believe me?"

My answer is based on what I hear in my pub. "You were a copper, and the team liked you. You knew the job and how to bend the rules and not get caught. The new governor is a politician. The boys and girls don't trust him. He wants every case sewn up tighter than a duck's arse before it hits his desk. He wants shiny buttons and silver braid on his cap. They promoted you because you did the job. As an arse crawler, you never were. The world is changing, my friend. The days of Robin Hood and the Sherriff of Nottingham are over. It won't be long before having a good piss-up when you catch a criminal end. I'll sell up and retire to my holiday home in Spain when that day arrives. My advice is to think back in time. Where there's a will, there's always a way. You will find what you are looking for."

Rupert said nothing but downed his beer. "Thanks. You've helped a lot. Great beer.

Jake watched him leave and smiled. "They don't make them like you anymore."