22. Under ArrestA Chapter by Peter RogersonThe DI arrives at a delicate situation only to put his boot in.DC Amelia Pincher returned to her car, the image of the weeping school teacher affecting her, emotionally. She was certain of two things: he was a serial killer and he needed help, mourning with such obviously heartbreaking sorrow over the demise of an ancient looking cat. So she phoned the station, only to be told that her DI had collapsed and sergeant Handiman was still off sick. There was, it seemed, only herself, and constables Dedbeat and Nella available at the moment, and seeing that she was at a suspect’s address and he (Constable Nella) was manning the phone, it only left Constable Dedbeat, who would be with her as soon as he could get there. She shook her head sadly. There were three additional constables, but the teenage superstar Alice Pinkerton was expected to draw crowds prior to her evening performance and three officers had been allocated the task of ensuring public safety. So Dedbeat was coming. A decent enough lad but a bit short in the marbles department, was her unconsidered opinion. The truth was she hardly knew him other than to nod hello or goodbye to in the station. He pulled up in his own car within minutes of her request, and she drew him into her own car so that she could explain what she saw as the situation. “He’s sobbing his eyes out over a dead cat,” she told Dedbeat, “and it’s my belief that he’s the killer who’s terrorising Brumpton at the moment. Everything points to it. He lived next door to the woman in the bin and the man rolled down the embankment, and he left the Academy the moment the crossing patrol bloke was found sitting dead on the bog. Added to that the boy buried in the back garden of the house where he lived was in his class at school.” PC Dedbeat nodded. “And on top of that I saw him near the church where the vicar was done in,” he said. “So why do you reckon he’s been doing it? Could it be that he’s bonkers?” She nodded. “Could be,” she agreed, “especially the way I saw him weeping buckets over a dead cat that wouldn’t start purring at him.” “Let’s see if he’s still there then,” said Constable Dedbeat, “and I’ll tell you what: you can melt any bloke’s heart without trying so you can certainly talk him round. And to make sure you’re okay I’ll be your backup.” She smiled at him. “Gotcha,” she said, “let’s go! By the way, what was it I heard about the DI?” “I was there when he interviewed his chief suspect, the pretty young woman in whose bin one of the bodies was found. You know old Glumpy, he never thinks a woman’s any good until it comes to murder, then he reckons it’s bound to be a lass behind it. He once said, and I heard it, that if a woman’s got whatsits, you know, tits, then her brain’s being constantly diluted with milk!” “Well, he doesn’t like me,” sniffed Amelia. “So come along, let’s get our man before he sticks his knife into anyone else” It was the best part of half an hour since Amelia had seen David Rozelle cuddling and weeping over a dead cat, and when they looked in through the still open back door he was still slouched in the same corner, sobbing, and the dead cat lay on the floor besides him. Dedbeat turned away and retched at the sight of it, which made Rozelle look up in alarm. It probably hadn’t crossed his mind that with the door open anyone could look in. “Is the cat ill?” asked Amelia, taking a step through the open door and into the kitchen, “I mean, it doesn’t look very well,” she added. “P***y won’t wake,” sobbed the grieving David, “and I want her to. It is a her, you see, a lady cat, and I love her more than I love anything.” “More than you love the people you killed?” asked PC Dedbeat from behind Amelia. He had, apparently, recovered from his bout of vomiting. “Shush!” hissed Amelia, and the weeping David Rozelle leapt to his feet. He noticed the uniform that Dedbeat was wearing, though Amelia was in plain clothes, being a detective, and he hadn’t associated her, apparently, with anything but human warmth and understanding. “Coppers!” screamed The crying man, “coppers in my house!” “What happened to your parents?” asked Amelia, taking a nervous further step towards him, “they lived here, I know that, but the house has been boarded up because nobody lives here any more. You can’t, because you live with Mr and Mrs Beachus… though it will be lonely in their house, with them being dead.” David looked left and right and left again as if trying to find a mental way out, but he obviously knew that he was trapped. “So what about your mum and dad?” asked Amelia again. “They were old and I took them to their favourite playground at the lake,” he said, “they didn’t want to live any more. And I helped them. I even kissed them goodbye…” “And the small boy you planted in the Beachus’s garden?” asked Dedbeat, “didn’t he have so much life left in him, a young child with a huge future?” “He was evil!” snapped David, “and evil people don’t deserve to live…” “Aren’t you evil?” suggested Dedbeat, “judging what other people want and killing them if you don’t like what you think they want? Didn’t your lovely mother and father like being old, or was it you who didn’t like it? Did they look like you’ll look one day, say when we let you out of prison, a really old man who’s done his time and can’t remember freedom?” “Stop it!” shouted David, and seemingly out of nowhere a shiny sharp bladed knife appeared in his hand, “stop it, stop it, stop it! I’ll kill you! Yes, that’s what I’ll do, kill you until you’re as dead as this poor p***y!” Amelia could see that it was time for her to intervene. Dedbeat might have been a useful officer to have if they happened to enter a dangerous situation, but not here, where he was creating one. “You will come with me, David,” she said quietly, “and I will make sure that nobody is nasty to you. I will be your guardian. And in return you will be a good boy…” And bravely she took the last few steps towards a mad man with a knife. All might have gone well, in fact it looked as if David was going to surrender to her, but a third figure appeared in the doorway. DI Glumpy had recovered his consciousness and been updated by PC Nellar in the station. Then, cursing at his own short-sightedness, he had charged to the car park and set off at breakneck speed for the original home of David Rozelle, determined to put things right. “You’re to come with me! You’re under arrest!” he barked at the shaking David Rozelle, and he foolishly looked triumphantly to one side at DC Amelia Pincher. It was only a brief glance, but even so it was long enough for David to leap at him, knife threatening and ready to stab, stab, stab. © Peter Rogerson,10.06.24 © 2024 Peter Rogerson |
AuthorPeter RogersonMansfield, Nottinghamshire, United KingdomAboutI am 80 years old, but as a single dad with four children that I had sole responsibility for I found myself driving insanity away by writing. At first it was short stories (all lost now, unfortunately.. more..Writing
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