Superintendent Harold Mason marched through his station, with the sole aim of looking every inch a man ready to retake the helm. To that end he was in full dress uniform with a swagger stick rammed under his arm held firmly in place by a leather gloved hand. This combination of smart dress and rigid disposition along with his totally unexpected reappearance had caught everyone in the station off their guard. None more so than Betty the cleaner who on seeing such a determined and resplendent figure striding toward her, had dropped her mop, and saluted. And as a further show of returning prowess, he had then taken the station stairs two steps at a time.
On entering his office, the superintendent had quickly put his stick, cap, gloves and jacket onto the hat stand and then taken off his shoes and socks. He then pressed his back to the door and jiggled it around like an itchy bear until he felt his spine align with it. Once in the correct in position and able to feel of the carpet between his toes. He began to follow the deep breathing techniques that he had been shown in therapy. And as he slowly inhaled and exhaled, he reflected that all things considered, apart from a slight tic in his left eye, his entrance had gone down rather well.
Below decks however his almost Christ like reappearance was still reverberating. This was mainly thanks to the fact that the last time they'd seen him, he had been strapped down to a trolley shouting something about being given "Eight foot ladders to climb twelve foot f**king walls'. And if there were any doubts about what they were witnessing ,these were soon put to bed. That was thanks to the trolley in question being shoved by a less than discreet paramedic, who had taken the trouble to twirl a finger at the side of his head, as a way of issuing his snap diagnosis. Since then the official line was that their boss was 'Resting at home' .
Ironically, it would be fairer to say that the Superintendent had seldom been at home and he certainly hadn't been resting. This was thanks in the main to his wife Jilly and her rather predictable prescription of day long hikes. As a former Girl Guide and her old schools most decorated paper chaser. Mrs Mason was thoroughly convinced that hiking could solve any problem under the sun, rain, or hailstone. And inclement weather was often the case given her rambling groups taste for 'High Altitude Rambling' that had seen them become known as HAR's to rescue helicopter crews.
So it was that after an exhausting 24-mile paper trial, which had concluded with him threatening to strangle the idiot they'd been chasing, after he discovered that he had been on a bike. He had finally arrived home and having preformed yet another one of his Houdini getting out of a Straitjacket/ Kagool impersonations. He had poured himself a very large scotch and then slumped half dead into his armchair. However, he had no sooner done so, when phone rang. And on answering it he had been the recipient of the dreaded late night 'One on one' call from HR.
He had sensed something was in the offing after his last session with the force psychologist, who was well known for siding with the top brass. So, when she had asked him out of the blue if he saw himself as being on 'Red' or 'Green? He had instantly smelled a rat and as a way of keeping the colour metaphor going. He had tentatively suggested that he felt that he was making headway toward 'Amber'. This had prompted her to write 'Amber' down on her pad followed by several firm exclamation marks.
The almost one way conversation with HR would have had any seasoned KGB interrogator nodding in approval. It began with a few well-crafted modern-day parables containing characters that could easily be perceived by the listener to be 'Deadwood' or 'Lead Swingers'. This was then followed by several references to his psychologist report. Which while they apologised for his not yet having seen a copy of, they had assured him that it was 'Glowing'. That being the case the general consensus was that it would be best for all concerned if he were to 'Get back on the horse' And having reluctantly concurred. he had been abruptly advised to 'Saddle up' in the morning, then the phone went dead. It was at this point that he suddenly noticed that one of his hands was slightly bigger than the other.
In contrast Inspector Georgina Dixon's entrance into the station could not have been more different. She had a smile on her face as for once she was genuinely looking forward to working a Bank Holiday shift. This was largely due to reforms she had managed to implement during her boss's absence. Most of which were common sense coupled with a policy of 'Best practice' as a result, the station was now running like a well-oiled watch.
As such under normal circumstances she could have expected that her achievements in such a short space of time would be noted by her superiors.
However, circumstances were far from normal thanks to her breaking her own rules and having a one-night stand with the Chief Constables daughter at the Christmas party. Which had seen her forced into doing the 'Walk of Shame' through her bosses home the following morning while he had stood by a blazing fire in his Christmas cardigan. To make matters worse if that were possible, he was also well known for being in complete denial about his daughter's sexuality. So much so that he still referred to it as a 'Passing Phase'. This was despite the fact that Tammy had since changed names to Tommy and had gone into business with an old school friend Colleen. And together they now ran a motorcycle repair shop called 'Tommy & Colins Hot Rods'. Which whether purposely or not was situated facing the entrance to his golf club.
So, as she had walked in the station foyer is was duty sergeant Bob Tanner who had given her the first indication that something was amiss by pulling a face and silently pointing upward. So, as she felt the return of the weary trudge as she had climbed the station stairs. Her fears were confirmed by the sight of Suzy Walters the Superintendents PA popping two tablets into a glass of water and she didn't hide her disappointment .
"For god's sake don't tell me he's on them already?"
On the PA front Suzy Walters was semi adept. However, on the privacy front she was nowhere near the standard expected. That being the case she gave the Inspector the glass along with her advice.
"He's on the phone with the ACC at the moment ma'am, can you take this in with you when you do go, he thinks he might have 'Glue Ear'"
Being more than conversant with her bosses fluctuating hypochondria Dixon was almost relieved at this low level diagnosis.
"Glue Ear? I've at least heard of that one"
However, Suzy wasn't finished.
"Oh, and try not to mention his hands if you can help it Ma'am"
Dixons face spoke volumes.
"His hands?"
Suzy rolled her eyes as she replied.
"He's been out three times already asking me if I think that one is bigger than the other?"
Meanwhile inside his office thanks to a handsfree console Superintendent Mason was able to converse with the Assistant Chief Constable while holding his hands up for further examination in the sunlight afforded by the office window. For his part, the ACC was no in no mood for an informal chat.
"As it stands Harry C & D Division could well merge"
Reading it wrong yet again Mason went from semi despair to optimism. After all it wouldn't be the first time his marriage had paid off.
"You mean I'd have to run both? We'll it could be done I suppose but I need..."
The ACC was eager to clear things up.
"For god's sake Harry cut the brother in law crap out! If they merge, Ken Marsh is in and you're out. His crime figures have been down for 9 months on the spin"
Despite being distracted by the now overly apparent inconsistency of his hands sizes he did his best to mount a defence. Which only served to make matters worse.
My figures are down as well; I've just been reading them"
The ACC was now borderline incredulous.
"I know they're down, that's the f**king point! They've been coming down steadily for the last three weeks which just so happens to coincide with Dixon being in charge while you were out and about strolling in the f**king dales and then pasting the pictures all over f**king Facebook"
Despite his ongoing and increasing belief that he may actually be the subject of a medical emergency Mason still didn't think that this assessment was fair.
"You know your Jenny better than I do. Do you seriously think that I volunteered to tramp around for hours looking like a dead rat in the rain? "
The truth was not lost on his brother in law.
"Fine I get it! I know what she's like. Talk about winding people up? HR were on it in a flash. I had to call in some serious favours to stop them from casting you adrift altogether."
Mason's mind mercifully switched from his concern from the size of his hands back to the reality of his situation. The despair in his voice was palpable.
"I'd never put stuff like that on the internet Clive you know that. What can I do? She won't listen to me! Last Thursday I nearly went under in a pool of sinking sand and I had to get pulled out by a f**king Landrover."
The ACC decided to take aim at what was left of his brother in laws spine.
"You can get a f**king grip that's what you can do, Dixon is running rings around you. The only thing keeping you behind that desk if that Chief Constable hates her slightly more than he hates you."
Mason tried his best to sound firm.
"Just tell me what I need to do, and I'll do it"
His brother in law had clearly given that question a great deal of thought.
"You can start by doing something about this 'Latmoor Lettuce'! The Chief Con's getting it in the neck about it from all corners at all hours"
Being constantly out of his depth Mason had developed an innate sense of when to act ignorant and when to come across as highly informed. As such on this occasion he decided that it would be imprudent to ask what 'Latmoor Lettuce' was? But given that the Latmoor council estate was slap bang in the middle of his division and that it was completely lawless. He was instantly able to work out that it was hardly likely to be any form of legal salad product.
"I'll deal with it don't you worry!"
The ACC was pleased to hear the conviction in his voice.
"Make sure you do; this could easily be a shit or bust situation."
Once the call to his ACC was concluded Mason weighed up the situation. He knew that he needed to smash this 'Latmoor Lettuce' whatever it was? And in doing so he also knew that he would need to be seen to be leading from the front. That being the case he then jabbed the intercom button with his finger.
"Is Inspector Dixon here yet!"
As she entered his office Dixon had given her boss the glass and had then silently watched as he dramatically drank it in one gulp. Thinking he was finished Dixon was about to welcome him back, however she had been stooped dead in her tracks by his outstretched palm. She then had stand there as he tilted his head to either side and banged each ear twice with an open palm. Figuring that the procedure had finally concluded she had again gone to speak but had again been vigorously rebuffed by his outstretched palm as he then went on to hold his nose and fill his cheeks with air in what looked like an attempt to blow his ears.
Once he concluded that part of what was clearly a procedure, he had then begun to take deep breaths. Unsure how long this regime went on for Dixon decided to chance her arm.
"I hope that did the trick sir"
Mason was not going to be thrown on the back foot by what he perceived as faux sympathy
"Never mind the pleasantries Inspector! What are we're doing about this Latmoor Lettuce?
While she had not been expecting a 'Well done' or any form on inquiry as to how things had gone in his absence? She was however surprised by the question and it showed in her tone.
"Nothing? You know yourself that cracking down on pot farms is a waste of resources, that we don't have in the first place"
Mason was at least relived to know what it was that he was talking about for once.
"Well the Chief Constable wants it stopped...And fast!"
The inspector stood her ground.
"Sir with the greatest respect we're just about coping with the cases we have without going out looking for more!"
But he was equally as determined
"I want it stopped now! Is that understood"
Being well versed in dealing with 'Upstairs Ideas' the Inspector saw her role as being the one who ensured that they never made it downstairs. As such she replied in what was her default mode.
"I'll see what we can... "
Mason however was well versed in her in ploys as such on this occasion he was not to be placated.
"Don't see, do! Now has the new DI arrived?"
She had not been looking forward to this conversation.
"Not as yet sir they reckon it could take another three months or so".
While he was not impressed, he was curious.
"Three months? So, who's been running CID?"
The inspector was clearly reluctant to answer.
"I've sort of been overseeing DS Parker and DC Button sir, I ... It's all we have at the mo..."
Mason instantly leapt onto what was clearly a hobby horse.
"You know I don't hold with kids coming straight from university being made straight into detectives!
Rather than argue the point the Inspector waited for the ramble to reach the same conclusion it always did before replying. So, as he clasped his hands behind his back to avoid additional distractions the Superintendent stood rocking on his heels at the window as he once more headed down Memory Lane.
"When I joined you had to do at least 3 years on the beat before you could even ask where they kept the application forms for the CID. Even then you were more likely to get a crack off the desk sergeant for asking! I once..."
Mason however stopped short of the entire rendition of his early years as he'd looked down onto the station yard only to see three of his constables struggling to get a 25 stone drunken man dressed as a fairy out the back of their van. A quick look at his watch informed that it was 9.05 am, confirming that it was going to be a long, long, Bank Holiday weekend.
He was then brought back by Dixons defensive reply.
"Button knows her way around a computer better than most of the IT bods we have at HQ. If you ask me, we're lucky to have her."
Given that Mason himself knew next to nothing about technology he decided to go for the softer target.
"What about Parker? He operates like it's the 80's, I doubt he even knows how to turn a computer on!"
Dixon was ready for that one
"But he is a natural detective sir, and we can't crack every case just using technology and algorithms"
Mason was in no mood to rake old coals as he needed action and fast.
"Well get them off their arses and get them up to the Latmoor, I want a realistic appraisal of what we're dealing with!
Having left home so elated Dixon was now in no mood to be ordered around, so she played the man rather than the ball.
"Is everything ok sir, I mean with your hands"
Mason was mortified
"Why have you noticed it as well"
Her switch from concern to coy was done with practiced ease.
"No, it's just that you seem preoccupied with them sir"
Mason held his hands up to the window in horror.
'Look, that one's bigger than the other one'
Dixons reeled him in slowly.
"I'm sure they're fine but if you're that worried you could always have a word with the duty surgeon"
Even Dixon knew that the duty surgeons couldn't keep their piss let alone a secret. One informal chat with them and his giant hand problems would be all over the force within the hour and on the Chief Constables desk before the day was out.
"No, I don't need to bother them besides my app reckons that it's common for one hand to be bigger than the other due to over usage"
Dixon couldn't resist the basic double entendre
"I'm sure that's the case sir "
But before Mason could even raise his eyebrows at the inference Dixon followed it up with an additional view that was top drawer Machiavellian.
"I'm sure its fine, but I suppose to be on the safe side you may want to check and make sure that it's not a case of your other hand shrinking"
As she turned to leave the room the terrified look on Masons face cheered her up no end. As far as she was now concerned the top brass might not be ready to do get shot of this clown, but she if she played her cards right, she could always have him wheeled out again.
