“You can leave now close the door and let us hope we work in tranquillity in future”.
As they left, he heard a giggle and could see in the mirror Johnson was laughing, so he added, “Johnson?”
“Yes, Richards” called the officer.
“Clean your teeth, your breath smells like a dog”
He did not turn for any reaction but sat down and heard the door close; when he did turn, he was seated alone.
He opened both the files he had been given and so read the first.
Robert Friday, 28 years of age, a single man, he had an ordinary education, did not appear to have any qualifications, no certificates of any consequence. He left school at the age of 17 years then worked in a local factory. His main hobby was go kart racing.
The next entry, he joined the police service here in Chester in January three years ago and after one year became a traffic officer, presumably due to his driving skills.
Nothing of any consequence there thought Jack, then, he read it again, and yes, maybe he thought.
He opened the next file that of Sidney Upton, “What’s here?” he thought.
“Nothing startling, he sat his CSE’s and had reasonable grades. He left school at the age of 18 years he then worked, as a shelf stacker for several years, there is a gap, more than likely unemployed in the current climate.”
“He joined the Police in Chester in January three years ago. He spent two years on the beat in Chester. Oh, interesting, he had a complaint made against him for abusing some buskers, he was given advice”.
On the recommendation of Sergeant Striker he became traffic officer, passed the advanced driving course same as the rest. He married just over a year before his death, no child of the marriage it appears.
He closed the files and sat back and contemplated but was disturbed in his thoughts by a knock on the door.
“Come in” he called; it was May bringing in two drinks, “Ah May thank you, Doris won’t be here leave the drinks I will deal with both of them”.
“Tell me?” Are there many posters in the police station for recruiting?” May.
“I can tell you that, there are none. All recruiting stopped four years ago and the training department disbanded the cuts you see”.
“I thought so” he replied. “I have a favour”.
“Yes”” she said, “how can I help?”
“Well now Mr Denton-Smyth is going away”.
“Thank God for that” said May.
“Now, May forgive and forget. I would take it as a favour if from time to time you might just visit his office and do a little dusting etc".
“The cheeky bugger, I will bet he has asked you that, the cheek of him, making me redundant now he wants me to clean after him”
“Come now May I would take it as a favour if you would, no matter what you think of him he is the boss here and he can make life easy or awkward for us all working on this case”.
“Well Mr Richards you have been good to me, getting me this job and I may say giving me a few hours at your house, yes OK for you, I will do it".
“Thank you May, no need to go in there for a while just wait until he has gone.”
“In fact I will give you a wink and a nod when to go, it will only be some light work”.
She left; he turned once again to the files making a note of the addresses and telephone numbers.
He picked up the telephone and dialled the first number; it was answered after a delay giving him the despair there was no one at home.
“Hello, Mrs Friday here”
“Hello Mrs Friday my name is Jack Richards I am working with woman Inspector Scott-Ling who I think you know”.
“Yes she is the nice lady who came to tell me about Bob”.
“Yes that is her,” he said, using a persuasive voice as possible. We are looking a little further into the death of your son and we would like very much to speak with you and Mrs Upton, tomorrow if possible”.
“Just a minute” she replied.
He could hear her speaking in the background “It’s that nice police woman and some man, they want to speak with you and me about the deaths of Sid and Bob, they want to come tomorrow”.
He waited with baited breath then, “Yes that is OK, Sir, I will be here at Bob’s house”
“The force let me stay for a while until I can clear his stuff and find somewhere to live. We will all be here the three of us, what time will you come?”
“What about, say 10am?” said Jack, thanking his lucky stars.
“Yes alright then” and the phone was replaced.
The three of us he thought, now there is a mystery, having noted the details he sat further and pondered.
It was not until 7pm that Doris arrived looking worn out, “I am ready for home,” she said.
“Have you been busy interviewing and the rest?”
“No” she replied, “just seated on my bottom sitting all this time with a shop lifter then being present whilst the men did the interview”.
“Right then” he said, “I have arranged to visit the next of kin of the two lads who died here in Cheshire.”
“We are due there at 10am and afterwards we will get off up north”.
They left the office locked the doors and arrived at the desk at the police station giving the keys to the counter clerk.
Striker still there called, “Now Ling after your exhausting hours solving crime here”, he laughed, and said, “Get off home and keep out of trouble”.
“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.