Cowards Die Many Times by Peter Hey

Author:Peter Hey [Hey, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Unknown
Published: 2019-07-27T23:00:00+00:00

Kids

The constable was rather short and decidedly fresh faced. Jane knew a classic sign of age was that policemen looked younger, but she hadn’t realised she’d reached that stage yet. Perhaps this officer had only just qualified. Or maybe he was genetically blessed, or cursed: it wasn’t an advantage looking like an innocent schoolboy when confronting an angry drunk outside a Nottingham bar on a Saturday night. This PC might need his CS spray more than most.

He wouldn’t be needing it right now, of course. He was on a mundane burglary call-out, more admin and paperwork than policing. Nonetheless, he was wearing his stab vest. It was a sad indictment of modern society that this had arguably replaced the helmet as the trademark symbol of the British bobby, now they mostly patrolled by car and wore peaked caps or went bareheaded.

He smiled amiably and introduced himself as PC Zahid Kahn. He flashed a warrant card, though it disappeared so quickly it could have been his gym membership for all Jane knew. It didn’t matter, she had reported a non-urgent crime and here was a uniform on her doorstep. PC Kahn obviously thought he could handle this on his own: Jane could see his colleague outside in the patrol car, busy on the radio.

‘Hi, come in.’ Jane said cheerfully. ‘I wasn’t sure they’d send anyone out. You hear stories of break-ins just being logged on the phone these days. Only even-numbered addresses being investigated, that kind of thing.’

PC Kahn looked hurt, a sensitive disposition seemingly joining his baby face in his list of non-ideal job qualifications.

Jane quickly backtracked. ‘Sorry, not having a dig. It’s the cuts, I know. I was on the force myself. Down in the Smoke.’

The smoke?

Jane grimaced. ‘Sorry, London. I momentarily slipped back into my old mind set. That’s how they talk in the Met. It’s still a very macho culture. A bit Sweeney, you know?’ Seeing a blank face she elaborated. ‘Part cockney rhyming slang, part sexist stereotypes.’ She affected a growl in her best EastEnders’ accent: ‘“She was a right tea leaf, not to mention a total slag.” That kind of thing. At least it was before I left.’

PC Kahn finally seemed interested. ‘Was that why you did leave?’

‘No, it was the usual reasons – shift work, antisocial hours. Tired of dealing with lowlife.’ Jane reeled out her usual excuses. The truth of a mental breakdown and the assault and near blinding of a prisoner in custody was not something she needed to broadcast.

‘I’m on a fast track programme. I’m hoping to make detective soon,’ said the PC enthusiastically.

‘I’m sorry to tell you that’s when you get to meet the real scumbags. And I don’t just mean the DIs!’ Jane waited for a response and then decided she needed to apologise again. ‘Just joking. My ex is a DI. “Guvnor” in Met parlance. And he’s only a part-time scumbag.’

PC Kahn allowed himself a smile but then remembered his workload. ‘Where did the break-in occur, Ms Madden?’

‘It’s Jane.

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