The Abbottsford Police Chronicles – # 3 - Paul Curtis (mobi reader TXT) 📗

open the door while an over weight middle aged woman in a type of uniform and apron pushed a trolley loaded with crockery, tea and coffee pots, milk jug, sugar bowl and a plate of biscuits.
“Thank you Doreen.” Marcus said as she unloaded the trays onto a side table.
“Sir.” She turned and left.
While they drank Jimmy filled them in about bypassing the alarm system and that they managed to override the CCTV and miraculously managed to leave through the main gate right under the nose of Olympic security.
He directed most of his comments to Marcus Tyler-Moore as Mr Clifford’s eyes were continuously being drawn towards Pip and hers to him.
He went on to explain that Scene of Crime officers would be on site soon though he was not hopeful that that would turn up anything as this was a very professional job.
“If you could provide us with a full inventory of the stolen items as soon as convenient we can have it circulated.” Jimmy said. “And we will be able to give you a crime number for the insurance.”
“Thank you Constable Pidd.” Marcus said.
Jimmy stood up.
“Yes thank you.” Don Clifford tore his attention away from Pip and stood up proffering his hand.
“And thank you also Detective Constable Mead.”
“Yes thank you Phillippa.” Don said taking her hand again.
“I think the officers need to be going now Don.” Marcus said slapping Donald firmly on the back.
He reluctantly let go of Pippa’s hand and they both blushed again.
“You can contact me on this number when you have the list.” Jimmy handed a business card to Marcus.
Pippa handed her card to Donald and to Jimmy’s amazement she giggled again.

Phillippa and Jimmy didn’t say a word on the short walk back to the car.
But when she walked to the passenger side Jimmy broke the silence.
“Oy Dolly daydream.” He shouted. “Your driving remember”
She jumped. “Sorry Jimmy I was miles away.”
“I know where you were and who you were with.”
Then she flushed red.


Bill Overend was pleased with the general progress being made on all the major enquires and was still quietly confident that his expectations of a timely result before the two new staff members would be foisted upon him.
Jimmy and Pip were exploring the possible involvement of the Security company in the Clifford’s robbery as they have been the common denominator in a series of break ins and for several days had been wading through piles of documents from Olympic Security searching for any patterns that might appear.

Although she was enjoying her time in CID Pippa had spent the last two weeks slightly depressed and more than a little bewildered.
She had been awaiting, no expecting, a phone call, from Donald Clifford, she was convinced that they had hit it off, or connected or something and she just couldn’t understand why he hadn’t rang.
This was new territory for Pippa because normally she was not short of admirers though not in anyway inundated, most of whom she felt complete indifference.
She was not used to wanting someone to call and to have someone she was attracted to, Fancied even, not to call her was something of a novelty, which she was neither accustomed to nor would wish to become accustomed to.
She had even committed the cardinal sin, something she had never ever considered, had never needed to consider, she had called his office, not once, nor twice but three times.
She was told on all three occasions that he was not available.
Not available! Bloody cheek.
Pippa was a bit of party girl and very good company and she was popular with a large circle of friends but she hadn’t enjoyed herself since she met that bloody biscuit man.
She hadn’t been out at all for the last week.
Bloody, Bloody man.

As another week drew to its conclusion Pippa Mead continued to discharge her duties in a state of anxious bewilderment.
He still hadn’t called.
What was wrong with the man?
How could she have got it so wrong?
After all she thought he was besotted with her he really seemed to be, she was mow beginning to think it was merely conceit on her part, to assume that he liked her.
Pippa was certainly besotted with him and that had never happened before, and she wasn’t sure she liked it at all.
She had even taken the unprecedented step of actually going to the factory, on the pretext of furthering police enquires, but in reality to see Donald Clifford only to be told he was not available.
She had never ever been treated so shabbily she thought to herself indignantly and then she chastised herself because realized she was being given a taste of her own medicine.
Should she talk to someone?
Yes, but whom?
Tilly? No far too scary, Gracie possibly, no Jenny, she would talk to Jenny.

Bill Overend and his opposite number John Holt who was the Uniform Inspector were having a drink at the “George” this was by way of an olive branch as John Holt wanted his PC’s back and Bill didn’t want to give them back.
They were good friends and had been for years and it would take a lot more than poaching a few PC’s to drive a wedge between them but they both enjoyed playing the part.
While the two Inspectors were sparring in the pub over her future Pippa Mead was anxiously stalking Jenny Hack through the busy market day streets of Abbottsford.
She had tried several times to approach Jenny at the station but she was frustrated by the constant interruptions, either by someone else butting in or by the telephone ringing.
She even tried to catch her in the car park, as she was leaving for lunch, but Superintendent Tiplady got to her first.
So she was reduced to stalking her like a criminal.
Pippa had followed her to every baby shop in town and then to several chemist shops.
By the time Jenny reached the market stalls Pippa was desperate even though she had no idea what she would say.
When Jenny stopped at a green grocer’s stall Pippa seized her chance, she waited until Jenny had paid for her fruit and veg and made her move.
“Hi Jenny. Can I help with your bags you look a bit over loaded?”
“Hi. Thanks Pip. I have over done it a bit. It’s a good job I’ve finished.”
Pippa took a few of the heavier bags from her.
“Are you heading back to the car now?” Pip asked.
“Have you finished your shopping?”
“What? Oh yes I didn’t really need anything.”
They began walking towards the car park.
“It was lucky you ran into me I’m not sure I would have made it back to the car on my own.”
Jenny had been aware of Pippa in the office and suspected she was trying to talk to her.
She had even noticed her around town a couple times and looking at her pensive expression she suddenly realized this was not a chance meeting.
The conversation was pretty much one sided for the rest of the five minute walk with Jenny doing the majority of the talking.
When they arrived at the car park they loaded the bags into Jenny’s boot.
After a glance in Pippa’s direction and noticing the pensiveness had not left her face she said.
“Do you know what I could do with?”
Pippa shook her head.
“A cup of coffee.” She answered. “There’s a café over the road. Do you fancy one?”
“Yes. I’d love one.” Pippa visibly brightened.
Once they were settled at a table Pippa sat fiddling with a napkin and trying to think of what to say and Jenny stirred her coffee while she looked on, while Pippa tortured herself, and smiled to herself.
Finally Jenny could stand it no longer.
“So what’s on your mind Pip?”
“Eh?” She had an expression on her face like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an approaching car.
“Something’s bothering you, what is it?”
Pippa took a deep breath.
“Oh Jenny, I’ve been dying to talk to someone.”
“But I feel so silly and I don’t know where to start.”
“At the beginning is a good place.” Jenny said simply.
“Well you know Jimmy and me went to that break in at Clifford’s, a month ago?”
Jenny nodded and sipped her coffee.
“Well we finished up in the conference room and we met.”
“Donald Clifford.” Jenny interrupted.
“Yes. How did you know?” asked Pip.
“Jimmy told me. He said you were smitten.” Jenny smiled broadly.
“Jimmy?”
“Yes. Jimmy said he was a nice guy. So what’s the problem?”
“He hasn’t called me. That’s the problem. I gave him my card and he hasn’t called.”
“You did throw away all of those misprinted cards you had? Didn’t you? The one’s with the ACC’s phone number on.”
“Oh God I hadn’t thought of that.” Pippa was horrified.
“Have you called him?”
“Yes several times, I even went there to see him I was told he wasn’t available.”
“I can’t believe he wouldn’t see you or speak to you if he was there. He seemed too nice for that.” Jenny said finishing her coffee.
“Have you met him then?” Pippa asked urgently.
“Not to talk to. He was at the front desk one day talking to Sgt. Frank.” Jenny replied. “I assumed it was something to do with the case.”
“I didn’t get a message.”
“That doesn’t mean that he didn’t leave one you know what George Frank’s like.”

Pippa, the moment she returned to the station, went directly to reception in search of Sergeant George Frank.
She found him in a form of conversation with PC Deacon, which involved Deacon uttering a few words and Sgt. Frank ranting his response. His ranting's could last for up to ten minutes depending on the subject.
The reason for this was simple George Frank was a miserable old pain in the ass who hated his job and tried to ensure everyone else did as well.
“I took my girl friend to the eye on Saturday.” Deacon began.
“The what?”
“The London eye Sarge, at Greenwich.”
“Oh the big wheel. I never go to London it’s a cesspit.”
“But the view is fantastic.” Deacon enthused.
“A toilet is still a toilet Deacon irrespective of the angle from which it is viewed.”
“But you can see for miles.”
“A sewer is still a sewer.”
“Sarge?” Pippa stopped him in mid rant. “Have you got a minute?”
“What is it Mead?” He barked.
“I’m working on the Clifford’s robbery case.”
“So?”
“I’ve have been trying to get in touch with Mr. Clifford at the factory and I was told he came here to the station about a month ago and spoke to you.”
“And?”
“Did he leave a message?” Asked Pippa.
“I don’t know. It’s busy down here you know a lot happens in a month.”
“Could you check Sarge?” She asked. “It’s very important.”
He sighed heavily and put his glasses on and began moving papers around and looking under things and all the time he was muttering under his breath.
Then he began on the shelf under the counter and after a great deal of huffing and puffing he brought out an item and put it on the counter.
The object had a square wooden plinth at the base through which a six-inch spike was attached.
Impaled on the spike were pieces of paper of different shapes and sizes.
He fumbled through the pieces of paper still muttering beneath his breath