Pieces of Me

by Ian Williams

  Chapter 2 - Nice set of cans as well

  Ian awoke suddenly to the garden shed door being opened.

  ‘Ding dong, there was no need to dress up especially for me petal’

  ‘You know that joke still isn’t funny, I have been a nurse now for six years and we’ve lived in this house for most of those, and you have for some reason always slept in the shed when I go out with the girls, so its not very original. Here I’ve made you a cuppa and a bacon sandwich, its four o’clock now so I have to go in’

  ‘Excellent, thanks very much, I suppose you’re not as bad as my mother keeps telling me you are’ joked Ian

  ‘Now you know your mum thinks I’m fantastic so I won’t rise to that comment. Anyway I will make it up to you later on when you get in off your shift’

  ‘Get in’ smirked Ian

  ‘Right well see you later then’

  ‘Yeah, see you later trouble’

  Ian sat up on the camp bed so he could get stuck into his bacon sandwich. His trusted sleeping bag had twisted whilst he had slept so he had been lying on the zip for a while which had left an indentation in his not so sculpted stomach. He liked it in the shed. It wasn’t really a shed, his wife Louisa had always called it a summer house, as she argued it had two windows at the front and sheds don’t have windows. It wasn’t massive but it was a handy storage place for the garden furniture and some of his old stuff he wasn’t allowed to keep in the house on display. In fact the place looked more like a little kid’s bedroom as on the wall was his homage to Liverpool Football club and their treble winning season in 2001. There was also his old football boots which still had mud on them from four years ago and were wrapped tightly in two Tesco’s carrier bags along with his other sporting items, namely a snooker cue and a dartboard.

  Ian chewed absent-mindedly as he looked out of the window up at the sky and around the shed…sorry Louisa, Summerhouse as his brain tried to catch up and absorb his surroundings. He was still tired but couldn’t really sleep in the day. Classic FM always sounded rubbish when he first woke up, he needed something with a bit more to it so tuned into Radio 1 just in time for ‘The View – Same Jeans’

  ‘Now that’s more like it, lets crank it up a bit’ Ian stood up excitedly, kicking himself out of his sleeping bag, and putting the plate down to turn the music up, he then wandered out into the garden for some dancing. He was in his pants, which was not a pretty sight, holding his bacon sandwich in one hand and a cup of tea in the other He thought he saw his next door neighbour peer out of the window then quickly move but he wasn’t sure. He didn’t mind what they thought, or saw, they knew he was slightly eccentric so would put up with this strange act coupled with his ridiculously skinny legs and silly hair which looked a bit like Worzel Gummidge when it was long and Peter Crouch’s when it was short. Today it was Peter Crouch-esque as he had only had it cut last week.

  After a late afternoon in front of the TV blindly watching Deal or No Deal and then the news it was time to get changed and get down to the station. He had a meeting arranged with PC McGeorge to go through what they had so far at seven p.m. It had been a complete waste of an afternoon. He had barely moved. Zombie-fied, staring at the TV without even really thinking about anything. The time just passed, like he was asleep but awake. He had loads of stuff to actually do. The boiler was making a funny noise and he vowed to look at it. As in the proper boiler, not his wife. There may or may not have been a leak from the washing machine. He needed to pull it out to have a look, but it just seemed such a struggle. It was far easier to stick the kettle on and then lie on the sofa for a bit. Laziness was disappointing but inevitable, it was like a cloud that enveloped you, once you were in it, and it was difficult to get out. Carpe Diem he should cry, seize the day, get up get out there and change the world…actually hang on a minute, Scrubs is just about to start on Sky 1.

  PC Lisa McGeorge was waiting for him when he got in. She was a good policewoman, who had come high up in her class at the academy, took martial arts classes, equality classes, sociology classes, any sort of class that would improve her as a police officer. She could therefore handle any situation and had a nice set of cans as well!! That last bit was what Ian thought, she hadn’t written that on her CV, obviously, although he might suggest it to her at the next staff drinks, once he had had a few of course.

  ‘Right then PC McGeorge what have you got for me then?’ Ian asked enthusiastically as he clapped his hands together in readiness.

  ‘Right Ian, here is what we have found out so far. The Forensics team has tagged and bagged twenty drinks glasses. Six Champagne flutes, four wine glasses and ten spirits glasses. There are numerous prints and lipstick markings on the glasses. We already have Mr Langans prints on file so we can rule him out, however we will need the prints of his associate Bacchus and the two lap dancers Crystal and Phoenix. I have done some background on Bacchus and his real name is Richard Bird. He is a minor criminal who has been charged with drug possession, ABH (aggravated bodily harm) and various other minor offences. I was going to go down to the Honey Club later this evening as I have spoken to the manager and he has agreed to meet at 10 p.m. tonight.’

  ‘Good work McGeorge, but can I suggest I go to the Honey Club to interview the two ladies in question.’

  ‘I thought you might say that so I told him to expect you, try and keep your mind…or more importantly your eyes on the job’ McGeorge gave Ian a knowing gaze which made him feel about as guilty as a puppy sitting next to a pile of poo.

  ‘I will of course act in a professional manner making sure I always keep abreast of the situation’ retorted Ian in his best official policeman’s voice

 

  ‘Okay then, so we also found some bullets. These have been identified as CCI Standard Velocity Ammunition 22 Long Rifle 40 Grain Lead Round Nose bullets. They will fit into a standard .22 handgun. The white powder on the desk and coffee table is cocaine as we suspected. The Forensics team have more to do as it will take a while to process all of the material, however, effectively the drinks glasses information will help to confirm who was there and this will be substantiated by the witness report from the head barman. Forensics can keep working in the meantime and we can review final results later on.’

  ‘Can you go round to see Mr Bird a.k.a Bacchus and have a word? He could be a bit edgy knowing the police are calling so be careful.’ Requested Ian to PC McGeorge who was already closing the file and standing to exit the room, collecting the empty white plastic cups which had been left there by the previous incumbents’.

  Chapter 3 – ‘Andguibh‘