1990-
The town of Stonewell
Rupert Parsons opened his eyes to the sound of water drumming on plastic. Unhurried, he dragged his body from under the duvet. His dreams of strolling along a white sand-covered beach faded.
Still half asleep, he swung his feet to the floor and sat on the edge of the bed. For a few seconds, he gathered his thoughts before trudging to the window. Tugging the curtains back, he stared outside. Black clouds filled with rain hurried across the sky. "Typical bloody weather."
To his left, a Chief Superintendent uniform hung on a plastic coat hanger from the curtain rail. Today was the last day he would wear it.
Joyce Parsons, his long-term partner, entered the bedroom naked.
"You'd better make a move. Can't be late for your meeting with the Chief Constable."
He shrugged. "That man is more of a politician than a copper. When I smell smoke, I look for the fire. He contacts his secretary, who calls the fire brigade."
She sat in front of her dressing table. "You're the one who decided to retire."
"I know, but...."
"No buts. The hierarchy passed you over for promotion twice. Starting tomorrow, you're a civilian. It won't be long before I'm joining you."
"I've been thinking about our future. We should get married in case something happens to me."
"Like what?"
"I kick the bucket. Fall under a bus. My pension will give you a decent life."
"Rupert, we have discussed this before. I'll have enough with my pension. Go shower, or you can drive yourself to the station."
Yawning, he strolled out of the bedroom. "On my way." In the bathroom, he washed, lathered his face, shaved and showered. Having rubbed himself dry, he returned to the bedroom. From the curtain rail, he moved his uniform and dressed.
Joyce sat on the edge of the bed, dressed in faded blue jeans and a white blouse. "You have fifteen minutes to eat your breakfast."
"Toast and strong coffee will do me. Have you seen my black socks?"
Joyce smiled. "They're on your feet."
"This is going to be one of those days, I know. Don't wait up tonight. I'll get a taxi." He glanced around the bedroom, gathered his watch and wallet, and raced to the kitchen.
Joyce looked at him as he devoured his three slices of toast and drank his coffee. "I'll retrieve you from the dinner at midnight."
He lifted his face towards her. "You don't have to. I'm a big boy."
Outside, a few raindrops bounced off her dark blue Audi A8.
Rupert gave it a casual glance. "About time you changed this beast. Run it much longer, and its second-hand price will be pennies."
She glanced across the car roof at him. "How do you feel this being the end of a major phase of your life?"
Rupert shrugged. He would miss the life he had created more than he cared to admit, but this wasn't the time to say so. "Get in and drive. I can't be late for the Chief Constable."
She smiled. "Yes, sir."
During the journey, they said nothing.
He pondered on his career. He had been a hard taskmaster, never accepting anything but one hundred percent from his team. He knew he was one of the best detectives but failed at politics every time. Rupert enjoyed his life when he pursued some criminal and nailed the bastard. Finding the evidence and solving the crime was his favourite saying.
Joyce drove into his reserved spot in the car park. "We still don't know who has your job."
A large smile spread across his face. "I know, but it might be controversial. He's a university guy and has been fast-tracked for promotion. The top brass believes he's a blue-eyed wonder. I could argue about their choice, but the guy has locked up some top criminals. Time will tell. I assume you're still investigating that nightclub stabbing."
"You'd better believe it. At the moment, I'm reading every witness statement."
"Ask Big Charlie, the bouncer. He usually hears all the whispers."
"I have him popping in for a chat over a coffee this morning."
"He'll say nothing in the station. Visit him at home."
As they had for many years, they strolled side by side into the station.
"I'll see you later," said Rupert as he watched her walk away.
The desk sergeant nodded. "Last day, sir."
A smile ghosted over Rupert's face as he entered the lift.
As he approached his office, he saw his name was no longer on the door. He sat behind his desk and let his eyes wander around the room. Faded sections on the wall indicated where framed commendations once hung. He smiled. The coffee percolator was still in its position. Pound to a penny, his old but hard-working secretary had filled it for use. He stood and, in two paces, turned it on.
Memories, good and bad, filled his mind.
He was sipping his coffee and staring out the window when the call came. He listened to the female voice on the other end. It seemed the Chief Constable was in the conference room and requested his presence.
With one more sip of his coffee, he placed the cup next to the percolator and headed upstairs.
Rupert entered the conference room and remained standing. Chief Constable Roberts stood. "Rupert, great to see you. How long has it been, six to seven months since we last talked?"
"It seems an age, sir."
"Park your backside. I won't beat about the bush. I have an offer you can refuse, but I would at least prefer you to consider my proposal.
Rupert pulled out one of the chairs and seated himself. "What's on your mind, sir? I'm sure you know this is my last day. I've dinner with my team tonight, and I know you're invited."
"I have something you might wish to consider, and I know you are the man to make it work."
'Rupert shot him a look of surprise and leaned back in his chair. "I'm listening, but I'm almost past my sell-by date. And more to the point, who would I be working with or for?"
"Come with me."
The two men left the room and climbed the fifth and top-floor using the stairs.
Roberts removed several keys from his pocket and opened the double doors before them. Together, they entered the never-used top floor of the building.
Roberts operated the light switches to reveal a large, dust-covered but empty room. "This is your new office."
Rupert shook his head. "And what am I supposed to do to fill my days?"
"You will be responsible for the county's crime records. Plus, the senior cold case researcher."
Rupert looked at Roberts long and hard. "Can you tell me why?"
"Centralisation is the way forward. You know better than I do; our record system is laughable. For years, files and evidence bags ended up in the broom cupboard, never to see the light of day. Finding anything important would take a constable an age if he ever found it. What I want you to do is correct that mistake. Besides, I get the bonus of your brain. You can investigate cold cases. If we miss something, you will spot it."
"It would be impossible on my own. My staff, how many?"
"I have in mind two civilians and two constables in their first or second year. You can interview prospective candidates if you take the job."
Rupert's smile broadened. "One thing for sure, your offer concentrates the mind. I'll be honest with you. This job has been my life, and leaving will create a big hole. In truth, I have no idea what I will do. Do I keep my present rank and pay scale?"
"Listen, Rupert, I've managed to have the pay grade equal to that of a chief inspector. But you'll be a civilian working for the police. Think about it. You'll have a full pension and a wage many would give their eyeteeth for. It's a good deal. What do they call it, double dipping at the taxpayer's expense? It's a win-win whichever way you look at it."
Rupert knew he had a decision to make. "I'll need a sergeant to act as my assistant. Someone with a brain would help."
"The best we could do is a sergeant on a pension. Do you have anyone in mind?"
Rupert stared at him for a moment. "I can live with that. What about the cold cases?"
"If you discover anything requiring a second look, you hand it over to CID."
"If I find something requiring further investigation. I will kick arse if there is no action."
"Why do you think I'm offering you the job?"
"Brownie points. It'll make you look good. I'll give you my answer after I speak to Joyce."