Destined to Become Zero, Staring Up This Long Path

Part 53 of “A Couple of Tenors Short” is deposited upon you like lucky pigeon poo during a summer’s day stroll in a city park. I just hope that you are not wearing your best bib and tucker and don’t have anywhere important to go.

Ahhh, yes, I hear the usual whisperings and mutterings casting doubt upon my sobriety. I assure you all that I am indeed stone cold sober and not under undue influence of medication (I discount the dried frog pills in this instance, after all without them, life might start making sense).  No. I am perfectly fine and just thankful that I don’t have to jump through hoops to enjoy the odd drop of my favourite tipple.

So, if you followed that link, I hope you realise that real life is distinctly more odd than anything that could appear in this story!

 I keep amazing myself by finding quiz questions relating to the part number. If you thought yesterdays was tough, this one is an absolute stinker! Good job I always supply the answer.

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...

Sergeant Collins accosted him as soon as he got back inside the station. “What was that all bout then, Glynn?”

Jones shook his head and gave a laugh. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Go on try me.” Collins looked at the bell in Jones’s hand.

“Well, it seems that according to the chief monk, I am destined to save the world with this little bell.” Jones laughed and rang the bell.

“Ouch!” Collins leapt back and covered his ears. “That is one really out of tune bell.”

Jones looked at him and then the bell and gave a shrug.

“You really don’t hear it do you?” Collins looked at him open eyed. “You must have been the only person in the valleys who couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket.”

Collins turned on his heel and strode back to his office, muttering under his breath and shaking his head.

Jones called him back.

“Did you get a report about Rosa Constantine being attacked?” Jones asked

“Yeah, we did.” Collins stroked one of his chins. “But what with the Championships we are a bit short handed.”

“Do me a favour will you?” Jones put his hand on the sergeant’s shoulder. “Send a couple of constables around first thing.”

Collins sighed and nodded. “I’ll go myself, as soon as I fill out the report. I’ll take young Tiddles with me.”

“Thanks, mate.” Jones smiled.

“Poor kid. Such a bright thing before the....” Collins voice trailed away before adding, “you know.”

“Yes, I know.” Jones smile evaporated.

Collins turned away and walked briskly towards his office. Jones watched Collins slam his office door behind him, before he headed to his own office.

The miniature pigs were gambolling in the centre of the room, playing with some scrap paper. They had obviously decided Jones was harmless, as they barely acknowledged Jones as he walked past them to his desk.

Once at his desk, Jones picked up the bell and rang it. The pigs squealed and rushed behind the filing cabinets. There was a loud “squawk” and the macaw flew out of its hiding place, swooped low over Jones’s head before flying off down the corridor. Jones chuckled to himself and carefully placed the bell next to the matchstick figures of famous weathermen on his desk.

After checking his watch, Jones picked up the various reports from the various members of his team and sighed. There was precious little progress on any of the cases. There wasn’t even a report of anyone who thought they knew the identity of the body dragged from the Thames. The generator thefts all followed the same pattern; one minute they were there, the next they vanished with nobody noticing a thing. The only good news was that they had found the printing equipment used to forge the tickets for the Light Entertainment Champion ships and persuaded the installer of the pornographic garden gnomes to modify his design to minimise offence.

With a grimace Jones went into the interview room and added the few extra scant details to the board before returning to his desk and filing the reports.

With the reports filed, Jones leaned back in his chair. His gaze shifted between the small pile of pastel coloured folders and the telephone. He stroked his moustache between thumb and forefinger half a dozen times before reaching for the phone and punching out a number.

“Hi Rosa, It’s me, Glynn” Jones stated when a groggy voice answered.

“Look, I’m really sorry about yesterday...” Both Jones and Rosa said together, then laughed.

After a brief exchange where both Jones told Rosa that somebody should be coming to see her about the assault. Rosa thanked him.

“It would be good to have a proper get together.” Jones spoke cautiously. “I’m having a small social dinner party tomorrow night, I wonder, would you be able to come?”

The line at the other end went silent for a few seconds.

“That would be good.” Rosa replied causing Jones to visibly relax. “Would it be OK to bring someone?”

“Sure, the more the merrier.” Jones agreed. “See you about seven then?”

The call ended and Jones sat back in his chair and relaxed. It was only when he reached for the pile of new cases that he realised that Rosa hadn’t told him who she would bring.