GALSYR

Elementary

     "Berelly?! In my office...NOW!"

     Why him? What had he done to deserve this?

     Breathe...

     Oh my peptic ulcer... If this bumbling idiot is the reason for my death, before I retire, I will personally come back and haunt him for the rest of his short-lived life.

     Only two more months. Just the thought of never having to see the inside of this metal caged precinct, or this fool, ever again, brought a rare smile to the old commanding officer's thin lips, whose usual expression was either pained or brooding.

     His ruddy complexion appeared redder than normal and his brown, bulging eyes, grew larger as he watched Berelly saunter, without a care in the world, into his office.

     "Captain Grizzly, you wanted to see me?"

     "Grisely! Berelly, not Grizzly. How many times do I have to tell you?" he shouted.

     "Apparently one more, sir," Fred Berelly answered helpfully. Flashing his well-rehearsed 'Did I do that?' smile.

     At 34, Fred was tall and slim, his crewcut hair pitch-black, with a bachelor's degree in criminal justice.

     His favourite hobby was watching old detective series. Reruns.

     He even dressed up to look like his favourite detective at the time, role-playing the character for several days, much to his boss' dismay.

     This was a Crime Investigation Division, not a damn Preschool.

     Already, the Captain had the misfortune of seeing his terrible impersonations of Kojak, Magnum P.I, Columbo and Maxwell Smart, and it looked like it wasn't going to get any better today. Sherlock Holmes...Really?

     Berelly's dark brown almond eyes, that always crinkled at the corners - 'cause he was always annoyingly smiling - infuriated the Captain, as he could never be sure if he was being serious or laughing at him.

     "Oh no," Thomas Grisely grimaced under his breath, rubbing his fingers across his eyes, as he took in the tweed cap and matching cape. If he heard just one 'Elementary, my dear Watson,' he would hit the roof. It was times like these that he wished the police uniform was mandatory for everyone. Especially the detectives.

     Fred Berelly was renowned for possibly being the worst detective ever to have existed, somehow bungling most of his cases. But, surprisingly, his paperwork was exemplary. The Captain couldn't fault it. And he'd tried...

     Not long after Fred was relocated to the Crime Investigation Division, Thomas decided, in an act to save the city – and his ulcer – to allocate Fred the job of taking care of all the backlogged office administration. Thinking he would never have to see him, again. No-one else complained. In fact, the office personnel never looked cheerier.

     But, unfortunately, Fred completed it all in less than six weeks, forcing the captain to assign him a real case.

     A business was robbed, and they knew who the perpetrator was, so the Captain thought, surely, he couldn't stuff this one up.

     How wrong he was...

     Now he had the Fire Brigade chief officer, an angry business owner, and the thief all claiming punitive damages.

     "What in Hell did you think you were doing, down there?! It was a sure bet; all you had to do was interview everyone and bring the lawbreaker in for questioning. It was simple!"

     "I wouldn't exactly say simple... You see, all would have been fine if it weren't for the dancing rooster," Fred started to explain but was cut off by his commanding officer.

     "Dancing Rooster? What has a flaming rooster got to do with burning down a building?! I've just got off the phone to the chief of police and, let me tell you, he was wanting to kick someone's butt and it should have been yours!"

     "Flaming rooster... burning down the building? I see what you did there.... Oh, good one, captain." Fred chuckled. "Although the rooster was dancing, not flaming. You see he's a disco rooster. 'He's got moves like Jagger'," Fred started singing, moving with the beat to 'Maroon 5's' song. "MOOOoooves like Jagger."

     "Oh, Heaven help me. For once in your life, man, just tell me straight how you managed to single-handedly set fire to the poor man's shop after somehow locking him inside it, and then catch the thief, only to push him down six flights of stairs, with a rooster attached to his head? Now we've got a law-suit on our hands, and he's likely to walk, thanks to you!"

     "Dancing."

     "What?"

     "The Rooster was dancing on his head."

     Before the Captain could say any more, steam almost virtually pouring out his ears, the phone rang. Aggressively, he picked it up, barking into the receiver. "What the Hell do you want?

     "Oh...! Hello again, Commander." Grislely's tone changed dramatically, speaking in an apologetic, more subservient voice. "No, I wasn't addressing you, sir. Yes, sir, I realise it's only two months away. No, I don't want to delay it for another year. Yes... No... He's right here... Are you sure?... No, I'm not undermining you... of course you know better... you want to talk to... No, of course not... I will be most happy to relay your message... Suspected Missing? Blood... Who? He's actually coming here! She must be of high importance for him to be on the case.... When? Immediately? Are you sure you have the right man? Yes, that's him... I'll send him right away. In fact, he's leaving as we speak."

     The captain was glaring daggers at Fred the whole time. He had been listening to every word of the one-sided conversation with an innocent smile pasted on his face, not giving the officer the slightest idea of what he was thinking, or if he was even thinking at all. He passed him a hastily written address with a name, that was illegible to read, and waved hurriedly at Fred, to be on his way.

     Fred Barelly got up, took the note, glanced at it, started to turn towards the door, then turned back and winked at the Captain, who was still being berated on the phone.

     "My name is Sherlock Holmes. It is my business to know what other people don't."

     "What the devil are you talking about? Just go."

     "Elementary, my dear Captain." With a swish of his cape, Fred exited out the door. "Come Watson, the game's afoot!"

     Grisely's red face changed to purple, as he forgot he was on the phone for a second, still watching Berelly's departure. "Yes, I'm still here... No Commander, I wasn't talking to you. No, I'm not ignoring you... Yes, I'm paying attention to everything you're saying...."

     Although, not one movement did he miss outside his glass office, until Berelly entered the elevator on the far side of the room. He was watching him like a hawk until the doors closed, taking him from view.

     Elementary, my foot! You had better not mess this one up!

     Fred walked out of the police station building smiling.

     Well, that couldn't have gone better.