by Neil Mach
‘Er, yes. If my memory serves me correctly, it was. The vet, Stephen Ruis.’
‘Go on...’
‘Go on? What else is there to say?’
‘Did you call the man in the photo and tell him about the reed leopard?’
‘I might have done, I can’t remember.’ Calcedon began to sweat visibly.
‘My colleague and I impressed on you that we were revealing highly privileged information. We made it clear that you should not tell a living soul about that creature, yet you breached our agreement of confidentiality to a man you hardly know...’
‘Now hold on, I —’
‘Did money change hands, between you and this man?’
‘What this time, do you mean? He didn’t find the creature, did he? He said he would pay a reward if he located a beast. But he didn’t.’
‘How do you know he didn't?’
‘Well, he said so.’
‘You took the word of a man you barely know.’ Moondog shook his head slowly. ‘You have acted despicably. And for personal financial gain.’
‘I would have given any money he offered to the wildlife group,’ Chalcedon murmured.
‘You are the chairman?’
‘Er, yes.’
‘You stand to benefit, don’t you? In cash and status, I mean. Would it surprise you to learn that this man, a man you say you’ve only met once, is a notorious wildlife-poacher? That he invades protected sites regularly and illegally catches and kills protected species. He’s a menace to everything you say hold dear.’
‘Oh, God, what have I done?’
‘Would it also surprise you to learn that my colleague placed hidden cameras around the site at Freemen’s Meadows? On those cameras, we detected this man, the poacher. And, of course, you, — yes, we captured images of you at the site. I told you to keep away from there, didn’t I? Do you want to see the police photos?’
‘No, it’s fine. I admit it. I visited the place with the man. He needed to know exactly where the beast might be seen. I volunteered to take him.’
‘So, you lied about meeting him once?’
Chalcedon nodded as he gulped for air.
‘The reed leopard has not been seen since your visit. Not on our hidden cameras or by a third party. Can you guess why that might be?’
‘He trapped it?’
‘That’s our working hypothesis. Though we haven’t located a body yet.’
‘Oh God.’
‘Do you see why I demand your resignation tonight?’
‘I understand. I will get a pen and paper.’
‘Address your letter to the secretary and, once signed, I will take a copy on my phone. To send to Natural England, for their records.’
‘Will I be prosecuted?’
‘Not this time, no, you will not. But we’ll keep this incident on file. If you ever try to return to the wildlife group, this or any another, we will process you for your involvement in this crime. Do you understand?’
‘I do.’
‘I loathe charlatans, Mister Chalcedon. And you, sir, are an utter fraud…’
The man nodded, then prepared to write his letter.
*
Chain of Command
At eight o’clock in the morning, Hopie left the Holiday Inn with a stony face and a definite stoop. He hadn’t come to her hotel room during her stay; he didn’t want to come to her bedroom to be with her. She felt clear about the truth now. She knew for sure that something was wrong. Her feminine intuition whispered a wise word, so sensibly she listened.
When she got into the car, he’d arranged to collect her, she smelled of hotel soap and wore hotel-ironed clothes — the same clothes she’d taken from her cottage hours-and-hours ago. She didn’t say a word.
‘Best of the morning to you,’ Moondog mumbled.
She decided to give him the silent treatment.
‘Fair enough, didn’t you sleep well, no? Not right as rain this morning?’
‘As if it mattered,’ she whispered. She gave a bitter smile and pushed the idea away with her hand. ‘Why do you care anyway?’
‘What’s the matter, Hopie?’ he asked in a flat tone.
‘You did not come to see me, did you? I waited in my bikini, didn’t I? I waited for you. Why didn’t you come as promised?’ She dropped her head to one side and closed her eyes as the car lurched forward.
‘I said I might. I didn’t promise anything. I said I might if I had time. I didn’t get back in time, right?’
She returned a stony expression.
When they got to the County police station, after a silent and uncomfortable ride, she turned her head towards him with a deep sigh and lowered her voice so the driver couldn’t hear. ‘I don’t think you fancy me...’
Moondog raised an eyebrow, ‘Where is this coming from Hopie? What brought this mood on?’
‘You ought to have seen me last night. I have qualms...’
‘Qualms? About what?’
‘I have needs, not that you know...or care.’ She raised her voice slightly, and the minicab driver noticed. She saw his dirty teeth in the mirror.
‘Of course, but...’
‘Now is not the time,’ she whispered. ‘But we must solve things, yes?’
‘Obviously.’
‘And you are right about one thing...’
‘Am I?’
‘Yes. I need to go back to my place. I need to collect clothes and bits and pieces. Though I guess I’ll have to stay a little while longer in the hotel if you allow it.’
‘I don’t mind. I reserved your room for a few days anyway. Do you like it?’
‘That’s not the point is it? Right?’
Moondog shrugged. ‘Isn’t it?’
‘Look, we’ll fix things next time we see each other. I need to find a safe time to go back to my cottage and get some things. Will you help with that?’
‘Naturally I will.’
‘Right. I’ll see you later. Five here? Outside the nick?’
‘I can’t wait...’
*
Hopie beetled her way to the cop-shop, feeling sadder than ever, and as the taxi pulled away, her mobile phone started to ring. The incoming call came from a strange number, but she answered anyway. ‘Hope Sopgood.’
‘Hello please, it’s Samira, from the store?’
‘Eh?’ She didn't know anyone called Samira. ‘What’s this in connection with?’
‘Your card...’
Card. What card? What was this all about? Think, Hopie think. Put that fantabulous brain into motion. ‘Er, can you explain what you mean, please?’
‘I am Samira from Beau-Manor Corner Shop on the Vile Road? Do you leave a postcard in the window?’
‘Oh yeah.’ Everything was clear to Sophie. ‘I’m sorry, I wasn’t with you at first. I understand now, how can I help?’
‘The card was for one week. No more. You want I should do for another week? If so, please come and top-up...’
‘Oh yes, I’ve had a sudden change of plan. Everything has gone topsy-turvy out of control. I’m all over the place, to be frank. I will think about it and let you know. Is that okay?’
‘Yes, that’s good, Miss Hope. We haven’t seen you a few days. And there’s something else...’
‘There is? What?’
‘A policeman officer came into our store. He examined your postcard, and he asked about it.’
‘Did he?’
‘He said he would like to talk to you. He enquired about you.’
‘Did he?’
‘Yes. This is good, yes?’
‘Oh, very,’ Hopie mumbled with a sarcastic tone, as she shuffled.
‘Thanks, see you later. Bye-bye.’
‘Goodbye.’
As Hopie put her phone away in her bag she saw a vagrant eyeing her from the other side of the road. When she gazed his way, he turned his head to pretend to play with his brown bags.
‘What a rotten stinker,’ said Hopie. ‘Moondog is as bad as all the other
men round here. He’s bloody-well set his dossers onto me, to spy.’ She crossed the street with definite purpose and marched towards the tramp. ‘Morning...’ she snapped.
‘Spare some change, miss?’
‘Are you spying on me?’
‘Coppers for a cuppa, miss?’
‘You are spying, aren’t you? Did he put you up to this?’
‘I’m homeless miss, do you have a few pennies?’
Grrr!
She turned her back on the vagabond and returned to the police station.
*
In her office, Sarah-Jane started to fidget as soon as Hopie came in. She absent-mindedly adjusted her clothing.
‘You alright?’
‘Does this colour look good on me, Hopie? I don’t know if the shirt is too tight.’ Sarah-Jane pulled the sleeves and then pushed her collar back.
‘Looks fine to me…’ Hopie offered.
Sarah-Jane brushed the complement away with a sweep of her hand.
‘Where is the Sarge?’
‘He’s seeing the Chief.’
‘Yeah? I need to see him too.’
Sarah-Jane yawned and threw an empty look.
‘Don’t you want to know what I get up to with Moondog?’ Hopie asked with a smile. ‘What we do together?’
‘Not really, babe. I have issues to deal with as it happens. I’m getting bored with your maneuverings.’
‘Maneuverings? What’s that supposed to mean? Hey, are you nursing a purple-eye?’ Hopie could see the eye now; there was a definite yellow stain around her friend’s nose. It spread from an eye socket.
‘No.’
‘I can see something...’
‘Oh, this?’ Sarah-Jane waved her hand again. ‘This is nothing. I screwed up last night, didn’t I? I got clouted...’
‘Clouted? Who by?’
‘Me. I did it myself, what a complete nutter I am. I clouted myself in the eye with an elbow...’
‘Is that even possible?’
Sarah-Jane gave a little laugh. ‘Yes, that’s what I said when it happened.’
‘How?’
‘Heh? Oh, we were paper hanging, you know, re-decorating. That’s about it.’
‘Is it?’
‘I was paper-hanging like I said, then I clouted myself in the eye. What a nutter, yeah?’
Hopie cocked her head and gave her friend a thoughtful gaze. Then she run her fingers through her hair and said, ‘We should go out some time. You and me. Don’t you think? Grab a drink. Have a moan about men and life... what do you say?’
‘I don’t have time...’
‘Of course, you do.’
‘No, my fellah collects me from outside the nick every afternoon dead-on four. We stay at home. You know that. I’ve told you enough times… but you never listen. Anyway, I am dog-tired when I get home. You want to know why? Because I’m the idiot in this office. I’m the one who does everything. I’m treated like a slave. You and Sergeant Jackass… all you ever do is gad about making secret plans while I am left on my own to cope. Sometimes it’s more than I can stand…’
‘Gosh. I didn’t know you felt that way, sweetie. It sounds like I need to fix things. Perhaps we should organize a lunchtime drink?’
‘The Sergeant doesn’t like us to have lunch schedules that overlap...’
‘Well, some other time. We should try...’
‘Mmm.’
As she said that the Sarge stumbled into the office. He rubbed his eyes, belched loudly, then collapsed into his chair. ‘The Chief will you see now, Hopie. He says you asked for a meeting.’
‘Thanks, Sarge, I won’t be long...’
‘Good, because we’ve got tons of work here,’ yelled Sarah-Jane. Meanwhile, Sergeant Moyes leafed through the morning newspaper. He licked his fingers and found the sports section.
*
In the Chief’s office, Hopie pushed her chest out, shoulders back, chin slightly raised and looked the boss direct in the eye.
‘Notice anything about me, Chief?’ she asked.
‘Er? No, not particularly. You look, uh, happy?’
‘Happy? I should cocoa! I’m not happy at all Chief. Oh no, I’m not happy at all.’
The senior officer checked his door then rubbed at his forehead with his palm. ‘What’s this about Hopie?’
‘Did you notice I have worn the same clothes these last days? Did you notice at all? Or have you forgotten you were once a detective? ‘
‘What are you getting at? Is this meeting going to take long? Because I have another one scheduled, an important one with the Ops Inspector. Maybe we ought to adjourn this chat to another time...’
‘No, we’ll do it now... The Ops Inspector can wait…’
‘What has your clothing got to do with me or anything?’
‘I thought you might like to ask why I did not return to my house during the last 48 hours.’
‘Haven’t you? Why not?’ Her uncle dropped eye contact for a moment, then said, ‘What has this got to do with me?’
‘You are one of many people... well, let me make it clear, they are all men, so I’ll start again... You are one of many men who like to watch out for me. Isn’t that true?’
‘Well, yes, of course, if you say so Hopie. You know I have your best interests at heart. I told you that many times...’
‘Do those best interests include keeping a set of keys for my place?’
‘Oh, that...’
‘Yes, that.’ Her complexion reddened, and she glowered at her uncle, ‘Why did you pass the keys to Jimmie Lavery?’
‘I, er —’ The Chief dipped his chin and darted a glance. ‘We should talk about this later; maybe we should go to a quiet place and have a longer conversation.’
‘No, we’ll chat now. Here. Don’t worry; it will be short. Just answer me, why? Why did you give the keys to Jimmie?’
‘He seemed interested in you...’
‘Interested? He’s fixated, but we can get into that later, but for now, continue... ‘
‘Well, he’s interested in your well-being, I’ve seen you both together. He’s a nice, polite young man and a good officer. I know you have a history...’
‘First that I knew of any history,’ she interrupted. ‘It’s all poppycock, of course. But do go on…’
The Chief cleared his throat, ‘Well, I thought Lavery was well placed to gather vital information about our visiting gypsy friend.’
‘What kind of information?’
‘You know, bits and pieces. For example, we do not know the actual identity of the man. I thought, if I found out who he was, you might have been better protected from him. Maybe I could have handled things better. I see that now. Please believe I had your best interests at heart.’
‘Why does everyone have my best interests at heart? And why does everyone want to protect me from Moondog? Is he really that bad?’
‘Well, the problem is we don’t know anything about the man, do we? We must postulate he’s up to no good. I organized Jimmie to have a good nose about the cottage to look for something tangible.’
‘Tangible? Such as what? Why you didn’t have the decency to ask me?’ Why didn’t you come out with it?’ She glared at her uncle with cold, angry eyes. ‘Why will no one tell the pure truth around here? Why is everyone so damn sneaky?’
‘I, er? I’m sorry, of course, you are right, but I —’
‘For your information, by the way, Jimmie stalked me. For months — years, thinking back. I’m at my wit’s end. I should file a complaint. I know I should have done so ages ago, a complaint of harassment. But now, thanks to what you’ve done, I can’t even complain, can I? Because this your intervention has weakened my argument. Furthermore, you’ve strengthened Jimmie’s hand… What am I going to do?’
The boss looked nervously at his door, ‘I’ll talk to Constable Lavery. I will solve things.’
‘No, you won’t. Because Jimmie won’t stop. He’s become obsessive. And, anyway, I was referring to you. Wh
at am I going to do about you? ‘
‘Um?’
‘I could report this matter to the Chief Constable. I was thinking about referring the whole thing to the Police Complaints Authority. You know, over-bearing conduct of a senior manager, all that kind of guff. Or maybe I should go to a tribunal? What would they think about this whole sordid story? Maybe I will see a counsellor at Citizens Advice to get their take. How does that sound?’
‘Hopie, do not do anything hasty, please. I’m due for retirement any time soon. Big pension. I’m sure we can come to an arrangement, right? ‘
‘Well, I want to phone my Mum later to get her advice. I need time to think through my actions. Will you give me this afternoon off?’
The Chief nodded.
‘I won’t be around for much of the day because I want to call Mum. You might do me a favour as a mark of goodwill...’
‘What is it?’
‘Would you make arrangements to ensure Constable Lavery is kept very busy today, especially between five and seven. Do you think you could do that? I want to go to my cottage, and I don’t want to bump into him…’
‘I will order him to come and see me during that period, to talk about his annual report...’
‘That will do nicely. You promise?’
The Chief nodded. ‘If I do that for you, will you give me your assurance you won’t do anything rash?’
Hopie stood to leave.
‘Maybe. Who knows? I’m a crazy chick, aren’t I? I could do anything. If you give me your word that Jimmie won’t show his face around my place this evening, between five and seven and maybe then I won’t fly-off-the-handle. That’s the best I can offer right now.’
‘Yep, right.’
*
Once she’d returned to her office, Hopie approached the Sergeant’s desk before carrying out the research she’d planned.
‘Do we have a vet on this patch called Steve something?’
‘Stephen Ruis? Is that who you mean? He’s based along the Charleywood Road. I know him from my Rotary Club…’
‘That’s him. Someone told me he is known as the Voodoo Vet. Why is that?’
‘News to me... Who says that?’
‘Genuine, is he?’
‘He’s got M.R.C.V.S. behind his name... and he’s a member of the Lodge, ahem, the Rotary Club, so yeah, he’s legit.’