The Cop Killer (20 page)

“I am feeling famished” complained Doris, “I will just call at the take away shop at Broughton to get something to eat I will be too tired to start cooking when I get home. Would you like something Mr Richards?”

“Thank you Inspector, but no, Mrs Richards will have dinner prepared”.

Within moments, the car came to rest outside the Ding Dong, Cantonese genuine Chinese type food takeaway.

She was out of the car and at the shop front door before he could say, “Its funny everyone seems to be leaving".

“Genuine Cantonese food,” he mumbled “I bet it never saw Canton wherever that is, more likely just junk served up to American sailor’s years ago in Hong Kong.  Those were the days of the British Raj.”

Jack the hat sat impassively viewing the eight or so people who seemed to be scurrying from the premises, all-empty handed.

He was unaware that the shop manager Wan Loy was already making a “999“call for police assistance.

Doris
arrived inside the door and could see the reason for the previous potential customers leaving. Two yobs sporting motorcycle gear, including helmets, were staring at her. A young lady obviously oriental, arrived at the counter, looked at Doris and then at the two men.

“Can I have a number 52 with sweet and sour sauce?” said Doris.

The girl behind the counter didn’t speak but wrote down the order and disappeared

”You like fucking Chinky sauce hey bitch,” said one of the motorcyclists. 

He was aged in his late thirties, early forties, a tall man but over weight, around twenty stones or more. He had a beard and was dribbling from the left side of his mouth, it was either snot or spit or both. His face grimaced and then he gave a loud fart followed by an even louder belch.

The younger man with him was aged around 25 years and he was dressed in an identical manner, he didn’t speak but just sniggered

Receiving no response the fat biker walked closer then halted as the assistant arrived at the counter and called out, number 22.

This caused both men to turn and pick up their meals; the older man caught hold of the girl by the front of her blouse and said

“You fucking dink”. “Next time we come in and you ask for money for this shit I will spread you all the way from here to China”.

With that he thrust the young girl away, she got up and ran off crying.

He turned his attention to Doris, “You, looks like you are a fucking dink like her; maybe I will give you the same treatment.  He approached Doris a step closer as he did so she held out her arm with fist clenched and as he drew near his stomach was pressing again her clenched fist.

“Now that is unfriendly you chinky bitch, he stepped back and turned to the counter, in a moment he turned again and threw the contents of a plastic cup into her face.  The smell indicated it was curry sauce.

She moved to the left and so the main contents missed her face but the remnants slide down her coat.

The man lunged forward to grab her but in a flash she swivelled and as she did so, her now bent elbow struck him in the solar plexus and he sank to his knees. 

The other man seeing what had happened produced a knife and surged forward, as he lunged towards Doris a high kick caught the knife sending it into air so that it was sticking from the ceiling.

 In just as quick motion as her foot came down, she spun and the young man was struck in the chest and before he realised it he was lying on the floor.

Both men struggled to their feet and as they did Doris was standing, both her arms held upright in front of her, obviously ready for more action. The older man called out to her.

“Enough, no more”.

Jack the hat witnessing what had happened arrived inside the shop by which time Doris had removed her coat exposing her shirtsleeve order white shirt.

 The three members of staff who had now arrived behind the counter one armed with a clean cloth holding it out towards Doris.

 All three looked at Doris, then at each other, and then all three bowed. Doris hesitated, and then returned the bow.

Proceedings were interrupted when the police already called by the staff arrived in the guise of Sergeant Striker and two Constables.

“What’s going on here?” said Striker. 

“These men they frighten off my customers, they no pay for their meals and they throw curry sauce over this lady” said the older of the shop staff.

“Ah you Doris” shouted Striker “I thought you were going home not getting involved in this shit, I suggest you do just that, I will speak with you tomorrow.”

Now you two, Constables Roberts and Davies pick up and arrest these two shit heads and take them into the van. We will deal with them Mr China man I suppose they went to attack you before you gave them the treatment.  I wouldn’t want to have to arrest you for assaulting them”.

“Thank you sergeant” said the shop manager who in truth had not understood a word Striker had said.

“I say Jack the hat”, called Striker “a bit out of your league this isn’t it?” Normally used to sitting around a desk eh”.

Jack the hat neither commented nor reacted visually just closed the door and left the shop.

Once back in the car it had not gone far when Jack the hat spoke.

“You seemed handy in there I must say”

“Mr Richards, when you are only five feet two inches in height, weigh less than seven stone, have slit eyes and known as “Dopey Doris” it is prudent to be able to take care of ones self, should the need arise, of course”.

“Ah yes I would agree with that, and you certainly seem to be able to do that, Inspector”.

“The shop staff, saw the bow what is the relevance of that?”

“Oh I suspect they were just grateful”, she replied.

He made no comment but thought to himself “Maybe but I don’t think so”.

The remainder of the journey was uneventful.

Arriving in the house, Anne asked

“Have a busy day Jack?"

“Just middling” he replied

A clear message he did not wish to speak further upon the subject.

Doris
arrived at her house and went directly to the bathroom, showered, changed and in a moment was watching the television and eating her curry, not like how her grandmother made it in China but not too bad, better than she could do.

The day was done time to sit and relax before bed and yet another day. 

“One thing” thought Doris “this job was neither repetitive nor mundane. What tomorrow would bring was unknown”.

PART NINE

THE SUSPECT

The following day on arrival at the Museum Jack typed out his statement of evidence and when Doris arrived, he gave it to her

“That is all I saw”, he said, “You acted so quick it was hard to take in”.

“Thanks” she said. “I will pop over to the nick and hand this in and dictate mine whilst I am there”.

In a moment, she was gone.

Arriving at the front counter she didn’t have far to go for Sergeant Striker was speaking with the Chief Super

“What can I do for you Ling? Is Sherlock Holmes not with you?”

Both men laughed.

Doris
replied, “I have just brought his statement of evidence over regarding last night, I will do mine here".

Striker looked at her then said looking at the Chief Super, “if you will excuse me sir, I will just deal with this”.

“Oh of course, carry on Striker” He turned and left the room his footsteps could be heard running upstairs.

“Now Ling, what’s this nonsense about statements, for what?”

“Last night Sergeant the trouble at the take away”.

“The trouble last night”, he repeated. “Trouble; there was no trouble just a couple of boisterous lads having a night out, no need for statements”,

“What about the custody sheet?” She asked

“What custody sheet?” “They weren’t locked up just taken home and given a boot up the arse, which if you were anything of a copper you would have given them, now you run along and make me a mug of coffee.”

“Yes sergeant” she replied and went towards the kitchen

“Oh Ling”, called Striker, “Make me a good un just like the Chief Super gets or is he something special”? He continued, “You know what I mean, a bit special like”.

She made no reply and went to the kitchen made the coffee spat into the cup and returned with it.

Striker took hold and had a long drink, making a loud slurping noise followed by a louder, “ahhhh, just the job what a good brew, anytime you got more of this let me know”.

She smiled and said “Sergeant you are well assured every drink I make for you it will be just like that one”.

“Ah, Ah”, called Striker “and the rest the Chief Super gets, will that be coming my way”?

She made no comment but left.

On arrival back in their office in the museum she was a little upset, Jack the hat arrived to ask something then seeing her he guessed what had happened but asked

“What happened”?

“Striker cuffed it; he said he took them home, nothing on the sheet”.

”I see, well never mind I suspect just about now both men will be waking up with very sore ribs. There is that consolation, what about Striker, just as obnoxious?”

She nodded but made no reply. Jack the hat returned to his office and sat down at his desk and thought, “Striker, when ignorance is bliss vulgarity appropriately asserts itself”.

He stood, went to the hat stand and removed his trilby, “ah”, he thought “the brown one today I think, I bought it when, now let me think about 1970 after the case of the child molester. Yep, that was a horrid case, one of the only ones I worked on with Woodcock, that shit head signed the Cheshire petition against me.

Fully clothed in hat and raincoat equally as old as each other he picked up his brief case, closed the office door, locked it and put the keys inside his brief case.

“Inspector, if you are ready we will be off to see these two poor women”.

“I am just in the loo” she called.

There was answer to that he thought.

The telephone rang in the office, “blast” he thought “who the hell is that, I had better answer it in case it’s one or more of the widows cancelling”.

He went to open the door then realised he had locked it, he opened his brief case, could he find the key, no, then in his rush he dropped the bloody case.

He bent down and was hastily attempting to pick up the items. At last, he found the key opened the door and picked up the telephone just as it stopped ringing.

“Hell” he said, then dialled 1471. The voice gave the number 01978222222; he knew it was a police station with a number like that.  He pressed recall and when the voice said there was a charge for connecting the call he thought of Woodcock signing the petition and so in revenge incurred the expense to be automatically reconnected the cost of which be coming from Woodcock’s miscellaneous allowance budget.