Chapter 2 (incomplete)

Incomplete Chapter 2 of my WIP novella looking at modern policing methods versus the 'old school' ways of an ageing policeman.

Chapter 2

 

"Morning Mitch!"

 

"Looking cheery today fella!"

 

"Glad to see you're not always a miserable old b*****d..."

 

I smiled and nodded knowingly in the direction of all of the greetings and passing comments as I stepped through the bustling offices of the Ecclesfield base of the South Yorkshire Police Force. I inhaled the familiarly intoxicating smell of coffee and frustration, gazing fondly at the Detective Inspectors, Constables and Sergeants who all seemed to have perfected the uncanny knack of looking irritably bored yet impossibly occupied at the same time. I couldn't help but smile as I heard childish jibes being exchanged, witty banter flying from booth to booth like grenades filled with the shrapnel of a thousand insults. And I let out a low chuckle as I approached a senior-looking Superintendent who greeted me with a toothy grin and open arms.

 

"Mitchell Hall. I certainly didn't think we'd be seeing your face around here for very much longer. To what do we owe the pleasure?" 

 

DS Stephen Collins, my 'gaffer' for my final 8 years working within South Yorkshire Police and a man whom I had a lot of time for, exchanged a firm handshake with me before clapping me on the back in a typically masculine embrace. I looked around almost longingly at the rather unspectacular surroundings which nevertheless still meant a great deal with me, before turning back to DS Collins with half a shrug and a little sigh.

 

"Just thought you might be able to use the old dog one last time before the years finally catch up to me."

 

"Only so much Bargain Hunt that one man can take, eh?" Stephen replied half-jokingly.

 

"Well yeah... there is that as well..."

 

We both chuckled as he motioned for me to fall into step beside him. We walked steadily towards his office, reminiscing about "old times" despite the fact it had only been around a year since I'd been forced into my semi-retirement. South Yorkshire Police had been commended on the introduction of their 'Maximum Term' legislation, which stated that Detectives working for the Criminal Investigation Department (or CID) should only work for 20 consecutive years within the department. Plaudits said that it would go some way to reducing the number of stress-related incidents which had plagued the CID for years, and had recently reached an alarming high.

 

Yet it didn't sit too well with me. Whilst at the age of 56, I was hardly at the peak of my policing abilities when I reached the magic 20 year milestone, I wasn't ready to step down. I still felt like I had ideas to offer, experience to lend, and one last good case to solve within me...

 

Thankfully, I had an understanding gaffer who was blessed with the gift of common sense, and who also appreciated my contribution to the CID in Sheffield, having seen me employ my often criticised, unusual yet strangely effective methods on many occasion to successfully get to the bottom of many a suspiciously ordinary case which often turned out to be anything but! After hearing how strongly I was against the 'Maximum Term' ruling that the South Yorkshire Police were, I felt, forcing upon me, DS Collins had taken steps to the creation of a new, unofficial title for me, to ensure that I could still work within the system that I had served for so long. Although I would no longer be employed by South Yorkshire Police, I was authorised to work as an "Unofficial Consultant", kind of like a modern day Sherlock Holmes if you will, but without the deerstalker and pipe. The new situation suited both parties perfectly, and allowed me to slowly wean myself off the potent cocktail of bribery, battery and break-ins that had kept me satisfied for almost all of my working life.

 

"So." DS Collins' voice shook me right back into the present. "As much as I could stand here and talk about times gone by for hours, is there any specific reason for your visit, Hall?"

 

I smiled wryly at the use of the surname, but again could only really manage half a shrug. I paused, before addressing my former boss painfully honestly,

 

"I just... I want to help... I need to help..."

 

Stephen looked me dead in the face for a second, weighing me up with a strange expression on his face, before relaxing and breaking into a toothy grin which had become something of a trademark, as well as a running joke amongst "the boys".

 

"Of course. We could always use an extra brain around here. And to be brutally honest with you, there's a fairly new case which has already caused more than a few headaches. Come on, step into my office and I'll give you the low-down..."

 

(More to come, feel free to comment and weigh in with any suggestions or ideas you may have. Oh, and if you know anyone who enjoys this sort of genre, feel free to point them in this direction!)

Author's Note

WIP, still to be added to and developed in the coming weeks. Feel free to comment with any suggestions, ideas or anything else that comes to mind though :)