Rubric's Cube

Chapter 9 The police But not as expected.

"Bit late aren't you sir?"

"Yes I am. There are things called motorways and traffic congestion these days unless it has escaped your attention."

"Sorry sir. Not a good journey sir?"

I half huffed, half sighed, "You could say that."

He tapped for sometime at his terminal, with an increasing concern on his careworn face. I noticed him now, his authority dented. He could be the father of a teenager facing the rebellion of the youth, or commandeered into looking after a grandchild. He was now puzzled in those wrinkled eyes, that were not understanding what the LCD displayed.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I cannot locate a Detective Inspector Hansen in this establishment."

"But this," I took the card off the desk between us," is his card. That's the telephone number, I spoke to him on Saturday."

"I'm sorry, sir, but that telephone isn't to here. Our area code is 01609. Where this on the card will go to I don't know."

"But Hansen was going to tell me about how my wife Ellie died and the accident on the motorway and everything. How am I going to arrange the funeral, and God, all that sort of thing? Jesus wept. This is some kind of shit."

I shivered as a slurry  of liquid ice slid into my guts, and my head started to feel it was shrinking.

"I - I need to sit down."

I flopped onto a bench which was against the windowless wall of the cabin, and put my head between my knees.

The policeman came round his counter, and put a hand on my shoulder.

"Look sir, I'll have to find someone to talk to you. Give me your name and I'll get on with that. Give me the key to your car and we'll move it to the car park."

"It's in the ignition. I'm Jason Blackwood," I muttered.

I was vaguely aware of another policeman being called in and asked to take the car, and then some extensive negotiations on the phone.

My head cleared, I felt less wobbly, and I sat back.

"Try to drink some of this Mr Blackwood."

I took the mug, and sipped," and grimaced at the sickly sweetness of the tea.

Nevertheless I drank about half and handed the mug back. "Thanks very much."

"Now Mr Blackwood I've arranged for you to see Chief Inspector Thomas. Unfortunately he is busy for half an hour, so a constable from his office will be here shortly to escort you there."

"You've been very thoughtful," I said," could I have your name?"

"Yes Mr Blackwood , PC Ted Fordham."

"Thank you." I took my piece of paper with the notes I had made and put Ted's details and then Chief Inspector Thomas as well.

"You're keeping details of us then?"

"Well after hearing Hansen isn't what he seemed I am a bit wary."

"Yes, I can understand that Mr Blackwood."

A little later a WPC, who seemed hardly older than Anne came and led the way through a maze of corridors in a 1980's sprawl of single storey buildings that had no doubt been slung up as temporary, but had taken root, surrounding the ancient Hall of Newby Wiske. 

"Mr Blackwood, Sir," said the WPC as she ushered me through the door.

"Thanks Eileen, could you take notes, please."