Later today, I will be off to see my very talented daughter’s degree show. Anyone out there want to commission a talented young illustrator and graphic novelist before she becomes famous and ridiculously expensive?
Anyway, I digress. What everybody really wants is to set eyes upon part 33 of “A Couple of Tenors Short”, I will not delay you further.
I actually think that the title and the picture should easily lead you to the track I pillaged the title from for this episode. Still, I will give you the answer anyway.
OK, the quiz question out of the way, here is my mantra. This is a serial. Any new-joiners should start with the opener known as Part One.
The troublesome recap has now settled into its new home. You can find the recap here!
Now read on...
“Dunker is being booked in.” Jones jerked his head towards the custody suite. “It’ll be a few minutes before you can see him. I still don’t understand why you are here, you’re a prosecuting barrister, and this would normally be handled defence solicitors. You must know hundreds of those?”
“Normally I wouldn’t dream of trampling on this turf, but...” Sir Andrew stopped mid-flow and bit his lip. “It is just that I felt a personal obligation in this instance.”
“Besides, it will give me a chance to see you work from the other side of the desk.” Sir Andrew slapped Jones on the arm and grinned. “You did a wonderful job on the Maryfield’s case and how you handled those defence barristers under cross examination was masterful – especially given the... err... circumstances.”
Jones looked at Sir Andrew with his head on one side. “Circumstances?”
“Well, yes. Water under the bridge, eh?” Sir Andrew shifted slightly. “Anyway, here is your sergeant. That must mean he’s ready for me. I’ll give you a call when we are ready for you.”
With that, Sir Andrew made his way into the custody suite, acknowledging Sergeant Smith as he passed.
Smithy joined Jones in the corridor “What’s he doing here?”
“He’s Dunker’s brief.” Jones shrugged. “This is very odd.”
Smithy nodded and they headed up the corridor towards their office.
“Smithy, do you remember the Maryfield’s case?” Jones gently slipped the question in as they climbed the stairs.
Smithy stopped on the stairs and made a strange clicking noise with his tongue. “Vaguely, guv. But for some reason the details are vague. It was a big bank vault heist, my first case after making sergeant. Funny how soon you forget these things.”
“Yes... funny...” Jones chewed on his lip. “Do me a favour, will you pull the file on the Maryfield’s case? I want to find out what we’ve forgotten.”
Back in the office, Smithy went to the filing area. A miniature pig squealed at his approach and shot across the office to take refuge under Tom Watson’s desk. The arrival of the porcine caused a host of butterflies, recently escaped from the forgery squad, to take to the air.
As Smithy started to go through the files, Jones rang the hospital and enquired after Tom, his injured detective.
The news was good. Jones gave a sigh of relief as he was informed that Tom was due to be discharged that day.
Jones relayed the news by shouting it across the office where it was greeted by general chatter of approval. By way of further celebration, Jones despatched Johnson to the canteen to purchase sandwiches all round.
Settling at his desk, Jones flicked idly through the collection of folders in his in basket. Two were cases of industrial generators apparently just vanishing. One was of a suspected macramé den in the outhouse of a pickled onion factory. The report of an unprovoked attack on a man in a wheelchair had Jones swearing under his breath. The last pastel folder contained a complaint about feral Girl Guides performing unwarranted first aid on a Traffic Warden.
There were also three further beige folders, all marked ‘Low Priority’. As before, all related to petty criminals being reported missing.
A large salver of sandwiches, devoid of crusts, was thrust into his line of vision. Jones looked up to see a grinning Johnson.
“I got the chef’s deluxe selection, guv.” Johnson performed the impossible and grinned wider.
Shaking his head, Jones took a couple of sandwiches.
“It’s not there, guv.” Smithy appeared besides Johnson and grabbed a couple of sandwiches.
“What’s not there?” Jones asked.
“The Maryfield’s case file. It’s not in the cabinet.” Smithy mumbled through a mouth full of fish paste sandwiches.
Jones swore under his breath.