Bertie and the Kinky Politician by Mike A Vickers

Author:Mike A Vickers
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Accent Press

Chapter Ten

‘Your blasted macaw has raped Millicent!’

‘What?’ Wilf cradled the receiver on one shoulder while sorting through the usual untidy pile of folders stacked precariously on his desk, an early morning sourness lending his face more than its usual hang-dog expression of melancholy. Colin Keynes was spitting blood on the other end of the phone. ‘What on earth are you talking about?’

‘Bertie! Surely you haven’t forgotten that macaw you brought out to us yesterday.’

‘I’m hardly likely to, am I?’ This delivered with all the compacted sarcasm of a worldly-wise, long-serving police officer.

‘Nor am I! He picked the lock of his cage and got in with our Millicent.’

‘So?’

‘So he’s bloody well shagged her!’ Keynes fizzed like water splashed on a hot plate. He really was rather upset. Outraged, to be honest. Wilf tossed the files, leaned back in his chair and smiled broadly. Good old Bertie. Nice to know someone was getting their claw-over.

‘Oh, dear,’ he said mildly,

Keynes went critical, like a badly maintained Russian reactor. ‘“Oh dear!” Is that all you can frigging say?’ he shrieked.

Wilf held the phone away from his head to protect his eardrum and covered the mouthpiece. ‘Bertie’s humped that girlie parrot!’ he announced to no one in particular. ‘They’re not happy campers over at the zoo.’ There was a ripple of laughter around the office.

Yates passed by and grinned. ‘Nice one, Wilf. That’s made my day. Damned bird gets more sex than I do.’

Wilf considered his senior’s statement while Keynes continued to fulminate and came to the conclusion no woman in her right mind would want to come within a million miles of Yates. She’d have to be on some sort of powerful and thoroughly illegal mind-altering substances to find him even tolerably pleasant. He returned to the splenetic keeper, still in a state of utmost agitation.

‘Mr Keynes,’ interposed Wilf firmly. ‘Colin, calm down. I cannot see your problem. Does it really matter if Millicent is covered by Bertie or another male? If chicks hatch, does anyone really give a toss who’s the father?’

‘But you don’t understand,’ Keynes yelled. ‘These macaws only mate with one partner. Milly now won’t breed with any other male. She and Bertie are an item. Don’t you get it – they’ve bonded. For life! That’s truly knackered our breeding programme. God knows what’s going to happen when Bertie is returned to his owner – poor Milly will be heartbroken. She’ll pine.’

‘For the fjords?’

‘Don’t get smart with me, Thompson,’ he snarled. ‘This is a catastrophe.’

‘Come on, Colin, surely it’s not that bad. Treat their encounter as a blessing in disguise. Brief Encounter in feathers.’ Wilf idly speculated on how macaws mated. Noisily, in all probability. Have to watch the claws. Still, not as dangerous as porcupines or tarantulas, and they manage without too many problems. Plenty of them mooching about in the wild. Keynes was still blathering on interminably when a passing constable slipped a note onto Wilf’s desk …

Wilf coaxed Bertie out of the police van, again thankful for the protection provided by the thick gauntlet.

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