The Retirement Party

by Graham Miller

  Contents

  Title

  Copyright

  Part 1

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Part 2

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Part 3

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Mailing lists

  Wootenshire

  The

  Retirement

  Party

  By

  Graham H Miller

  This book is released under the Wootenshire Shared World Licence.

  Full details are available at https://wootenshire.co.uk/shared-world-licence-legal

  In short this text is protected as it would be under traditional copyright but, subject to certain conditions, you may make derivative works based in Wootenshire, featuring the characters and locations contained in this book.

  Part 1

  Chapter One

  The beginning of the end, DCI Rob Haines thought. He held two pieces of paper in his hands. One was his notice of promotion to the rank of superintendent, the other was the notice that a new DC, Emma Angel, would be joining his team.

  Of course, he knew it wasn't the end. It was the beginning of a role that would see him based in the office. Gone were the days of chasing and arresting villains; now he'd be behind a desk and attending committee meetings and strategy briefings. It was just the end of his life as an active officer.

  He picked up a slim personnel file and wandered to the window. By virtue of his rank, he had a proper office, with a window out onto the open-plan area. Even though it was only eight twenty, he saw the figure of Glen Hargreaves, his DI and second in command, making his way across the open-plan office. With a slight nod of his head, he invited him in.

  He was settled back behind his desk, leaning back in his chair, when Hargreaves entered. They were as different in looks as they were in personality. Hargreaves was neat and tidy, always looking more like an accountant than a police officer. Haines on the other hand, had run to fat a little and leaning back in his chair accentuated his bulk. He was aware that soon he'd be back in a role where he'd have to wear uniform more often and was taking advantage of the opportunity to look scruffy now.

  Hargreaves glanced at the folder Haines was still holding. 'Second thoughts?'

  'No, not really. Wait 'til you're this side of the desk.' He rubbed his temples. 'You'll get targets and budgets that you have to meet. Look out there.' He gestured wearily towards the window.

  'What about them?' DI Hargreaves twisted round to glance through the window. 'They're a good team, you know that.'

  'Yeah, but look at it through HR's eyes. All white and all male.'

  'And that's why they've bonded. Anyway policing should reflect the community. Have you been out from behind that desk recently?' Glen asked. 'This is a white town, hell it's more or less a white county. You'd have to go to Bristol for diversity.'

  'You won't be able to say stuff like that when you take over.' Haines knew there was diversity in Bradwick if you looked for it. But Hargreaves wouldn't listen. 'You probably won't even be able to think it in five years' time. Anyway, until they manage to get some racial diversity up through the system to CID, this is what we've got.' He held up the personnel file.

  'Don't see why we need anyone else. It might just ruin the team dynamic, the ethos.'

  'Because,' Haines said slowly, 'we've been given the budget. Soon, I'll be up to superintendent and you'll be running the team. You'll be able to bring up a new sergeant, which'll leave a gap for a detective constable. Be thankful they're giving you the budget for that.' The unspoken hung between them. Hargreaves hadn't been given a promotion. It was fair – CID should be run by an inspector, but it was still a bit of a sting.

  'Yeah, I know all that.' Hargreaves turned back to face his boss. 'But what do we really know about her? We don't want to rock the boat.'

  Haines steepled his fingers and considered. DC Angel had interviewed very well and the references from her sergeant were good. She'd done well at Hendon and got good marks on all her training courses.

  'You know we've both asked around,' Haines said. 'She's a good cop. Everyone says she's a good officer – conscientious, good at crisis management and calming people down. Have you seen her? She's tiny, nothing to her, but the word is that she's the one you want to have your back in a tight spot.'

  'Yeah, but what's she actually like? Will she fit in?'

  'Well, she's not local – comes from the Midlands, somewhere around Nottingham. It's annoying that we can't tap into the Bradwick grapevine like we could with a local, but maybe it'll be a good thing. Breath of fresh air.' What else had he learned? In the years that she'd been here, she'd bought a house, rented rooms to fellow shift workers, mostly colleagues and nurses, and kept to herself. No one knew much about her family, relationships, anything personal.

  'So.' Hargreaves pointed to the personnel file. 'How do you want me to play it, boss?'

  'What do you mean?'

  'Well, we've got a tight-knit team here. How are we going to work this out? We'll need to sound her out. Or do we make sure she leaves?'

  'No, no.' Haines shook his head. 'Everything is very political at the moment. One hint of difficult treatment and there'll be a claim of constructive dismissal. Don't give her the shitty end of the stick but also don't roll out the red carpet. Play it straight up the middle, treat her like one of the team.'

  'Totally like one of the team?' Hargreaves gave Haines a knowing look.

  'Don't worry about that side of things. I'll take her under my wing for the remainder of my time in charge. By the time I formally hand over to you, we should know where she stands.'

  DI Hargreaves nodded. Haines had always planned to handle the new recruit personally. Whether or not she worked out, he could act to isolate Hargreaves from any fallout. It would mean that he could start his time in charge with a clean slate.

  Chapter Two

  Despite nearly five years in the police, DC Emma Angel still couldn't shake the lessons learned in childhood – the police were the enemy. Worse than that, she now had to walk past all the uniformed officers and sta
rt her first day in CID. The same plain clothes officers that she'd been taught never to trust since she was a child.

  When she was in uniform, she had, paradoxically, felt a freedom in what to wear as she just had to arrive at work and then everything was provided for her. Now, the week before starting her new role, she'd had to abandon her quirky, ethnic style and dress in what felt frumpy and staid to her. But on the plus side, it wouldn't raise any eyebrows and was comfortable enough if she ended up chasing and catching suspects.

  She was used to moving around and starting fresh so she wasn't nervous about working with a new team and settling in. But she hated those first few days where she was spinning her wheels and not really contributing.

  She was also aware of the ability for an established team to play tricks or haze new recruits. She'd asked around and apparently DCI Rob Haines' team were very tight. They were all friends and hardly any gossip left their office.

  She mentally squared her shoulders and prepared to enter the lion's den. She had made her own best guess as to what to wear for her first day in plain clothes. She wore comfortable but smart clothes. Something she could run in but looked good, yet not so good that she would be accused of using her looks to get ahead. The last thing she needed was criticism from either men or women on that front.

  Instead of heading to the locker room to start her shift, she made her way to the CID office. It was a large open-plan area with desks interspersed with the usual cabinets, printers, and water coolers.

  There was a small office that opened on to one side of the area and in there were two men, who rose to greet her as she walked in. One was tall and broad with curly hair, while his counterpart was average height and looked neat and tidy.

  The taller one approached her confidently, hand held out to shake. 'Hi, you must be Emma Angel. I'm DCI Rob Haines, welcome to the team.' He indicated the man standing a pace behind him to the left. 'This is DI Glen Hargreaves. He has the unenviable job of taking over the management of this team when my promotion goes through.'

  Hargreaves nodded briefly at her before going back to his desk, a screened-off area in the corner of the open-plan office. DC Angel wondered why he looked so stony-faced – hopefully, it was just that he couldn't wait to take over the reins. She hoped she wouldn't have a boss who had a problem with her from the off.

  Soon Haines had installed her at her own desk with a computer and all the usual accoutrements of office work. Finally, he went to a cabinet and returned holding a stack of files.

  'Right, here's something to get you started.' He lifted the stack of files slightly, as if she hadn't already seen them. 'This is our main focus at the moment. There's been a spate of violence throughout the poorer areas of town. Look through the files and you'll see that our victims aren't exactly throwing themselves forward and volunteering information. And as for witnesses, well, don't hold your breath!' He let the files drop onto her desk.

  She settled down with a strong coffee and a map of the local area. She was fortunate that she'd been posted here as a uniformed officer so she knew the territory. She methodically worked her way through the stack of buff files. After the first five cases, she could see a pattern emerging.

  Most of the victims were more used to being on the other side of the law. At first, DC Angel was shocked that the arresting officers had run the victims through the computer, though it did seem like a good precaution as they were all guilty of minor offences. There were cautions for drug possession, breach of the peace, disorderly conduct. It gave a very clear picture and explained why none of those attacked gave statements.

  The most comprehensive parts of the files had been completed by the medical professionals who'd treated the victims. She flicked through the sixth file. The victim, Ryan Edwards, was first brought to the attention of the police when concerned members of the public reported him sleeping off his drink in the park off the promenade. When officers attended to move him on, it became obvious that he was seriously injured.

  When he woke up in A&E, he was aggressive and abusive. Nonetheless, a report had already been started and more details were added to it. It was obvious that Mr Edwards had taken a kicking. He had several broken ribs and needed a cracked cheekbone reset. However he wouldn't talk to police and discharged himself as soon as he got a good supply of painkillers.

  His address was given as a house in Coopers End – one of the dodgier estates on the outskirts of town. DC Angel firmly believed that there shouldn't be any no-go areas for police but she made a mark on the map and decided that it was an area where the police should take caution. They certainly wouldn't go in single-crewed and would make sure they had good reason to be there.

  She gamely ploughed on through the reports. She was able to read between the lines and see that all the victims were criminals, however, they all seemed to be on the minor end of the scale. Most of the offences were breach of the peace and possession and nearly every one ended in a caution. Added to this, each of them was marked as known to the police – in other words, they were probably guilty of far more than the records suggested.

  She went to get a coffee and think over the implications of what she had just read. The attacks had all the hallmarks of an escalating turf war between drug gangs. Back at her desk, she called up the monthly crime figures, going back over a year. To her surprise, there had been no significant change over the past twelve months.

  She frowned and went through the figures carefully. Every month had a good number of seizures of both drugs and the paraphernalia that went with them – weapons and money. But nothing had changed significantly since the attacks started. Usually, a battle over territory would show up as an increase in assaults and seizures of drugs. But the figures were at the same level as they had been for the months before the attacks started.

  She shook her head. Her first thought was that maybe vigilantes were trying to clean up the town – a whole group of concerned citizens working to rid Bradwick of its drug problem. Again, the figures didn't bear this out.

  She went back to the files of the attacks and looked at the list of victims. None of them had been convicted of dealing or possession with intent to supply, so most likely they were just unfortunate users.

  Despite her interest, DC Angel did her best to remember that she'd been put in here as a trainee detective constable. Her job was to process cases, arrest suspects, learn the territory and above all, follow orders. She had moved around a lot as a child and had learned the hard way that no one liked the smart kid coming in and checking everything. She wouldn't win any friends by suggesting a whole new approach based on analysing patterns on her first day in the job. No, the best way to fit into her new team would be to keep her head down and do what she was told.

  Chapter Three

  DCs Angel and Hobbs sat in the car drinking their coffees, parked up with a good view of the high street. 'Spend the day with DC Steve Hobbs,' Haines had said that morning, her second day in CID. 'Learn the ropes, get a feel for the town, let him fill you in on the current situation.'

  She sighed. It was true that Steve Hobbs knew the area well. But he had been a DC for over ten years and had no real interest in moving up, or moving forward. He was, for whatever reason, marking time.

  So, DC Angel wasn't really listening to what he was trying to tell her about forming links and cultivating sources. He was being patronising – DC Angel already knew the basics. And she knew that the only way to form relationships with informants was to build personal connections, and that couldn't be taught.

  Instead of listening, she was watching the people on the busy high street. Her eyes flicked past people as soon as she understood what they were doing. Two mothers chatting while walking with their children in pushchairs – next. A couple of office workers heading straight to the sandwich shop on their lunch break – next. Teenage, maybe early twenties girl focused on her phone – next. A young man, shaven head, baggy tracksuit trousers and a vest. He wasn't doing anything. DC Angel corrected herself as
she studied him – he was doing the same thing that she was, watching the crowd. Scanning them, almost. He might have been looking for someone, but something felt off to DC Angel.

  'Hold my coffee,' she said distractedly. Steve turned round to look at his colleague. He frowned at her, looking annoyed. 'Please,' she added. He looked at the cup held in front of him and took hold of it automatically.

  DC Angel turned back to Skinny Guy. He was on the move. He was focused, dodging his way past the two mothers, around the end of the queue for sandwiches. DC Angel was looking at the high street and now visualised the street map in her mind. There was the shopping centre further on, a large pedestrian area covered with CCTV and private security. His best escape route was the housing estate behind them and that meant going straight past their car.

  'Tall skinny guy, vest and tracksuit trousers. Keep an eye on him,' she said to Steve Hobbs.

  'Why?' Steve snapped at her. She didn't blame him. He obviously hadn't wanted to show her the ropes today and she knew how bossy she'd sounded. But, if she was right, she didn't have time right now to answer him.

  DC Angel got out of the car and casually leant against it. She didn't wait for Hobbs' reaction, instead she got her mobile phone out and pretended to look at it while watching the skinny man approach the teen who was also on a phone. DC Angel had seen that the teen's handbag was slung over her shoulder and out of sight behind her.

  The man was a professional, he walked up behind her, there was a flash of silver in his hand, then the strap was cut and he was starting to move. Angel had to think fast. The weapon was a short craft knife in his right hand, blade inwards, the handbag was tucked under his left. He suddenly put on a burst of speed, and his sporty clothes meant he moved easily.

  As he came past DC Angel, she reached out and grabbed the back of his right wrist. He was moving fast and his momentum swung him round into the car. In a second he was face down on the bonnet with his arm stretched out.