Oisin
gone but not forgotten
Sorry but it seems the floodgates have been opened for me with this forum.
I hope you'll excuse me for posting yet another one. This one I wrote some time ago is similar to Chris' "Backdoor" one but sadly with a different conclusion...
CRIME AND CORRECTION
While Maud gathered her thoughts, showing great patience, the young constable paused at regular intervals to sip at the tea, which the pretty dark-eyed nurse had served to them all. Action by painful action, Maud Harwood struggled to recall every minute detail, in response to the policeman’s prompts.
‘I’m sorry, I can’t remember exactly what time it was, but Neighbours hadn’t long finished,’ she apologised unnecessarily.
‘So it had to be after two,’ Mrs Collins chipped in, only too keen to exhibit her knowledge of the TV scheduling.
‘And was it a knock, or did he ring the bell?’ P.C. Rogers asked, pausing his pen on the paper.
‘Oh, he rang the bell first. Then, when I didn’t get to the door quick enough he started banging.’
‘So, tell me what happened next,’ the policeman encouraged her.
‘I got up out of my chair and went to open the door. You’ve asked me all this before!’
‘Yes, I’m sorry,’ the P.C. confessed with a comforting smile. ‘But I just want to make sure I’ve got it right.’
‘Well I got to the door and he…’
‘I’m sorry again,’ P.C. Rogers interrupted, ‘How many did you say were at the door?’ He ignored the look of disdain that Mrs Collins shot at him.
‘One!’ Maud told him impatiently, ‘There was one young man on the step.’
‘And how did you say he was dressed?’
‘I didn’t get much of a chance to look at him before he shoved me backwards into the hall. But,’ Her purple grazed brow creased with the effort of thought, ‘ I’m pretty sure he was wearing blue trousers - jeans and a jumper.’
‘And can you remember what colour the jumper was?’
‘Green and I think it had writing on it,’ she said screwing up her blackened eyes to get a clearer vision.
David Rogers was blatantly aware of how intrusive his line of questioning was but he needed to know all the details. He hated violent crimes, especially when committed against the elderly. And this time he was determined the culprit, for once, would not get away scot-free.
‘And then?’ he coaxed Maud as gently as he could. And again Marilyn Collins shot him a wary glance.
‘And then,’ Maud continued, dabbing a tear from her cheek with the corner of her hanky, ‘I staggered backwards trying to keep my balance but I lost my footing and slipped over as he pushed passed me. I can’t remember anything after that until Marilyn arrived.’
P. C. Rogers swung his attention onto Maud’s neighbour. ‘So, what time was it when you noticed the front door left open, Mrs Collins?’
Marilyn Collins gazed at the ceiling and twiddled her thumbs around one another while she gathered her thoughts. ‘Let me see, I was rushing back from the shops to catch the beginning of Countdown, so it must have been after four. Well I couldn’t believe it. She was in a terrible state. They ought to ‘ang the little sod when they cop ‘old of ‘im. It wasn’t enough for ‘im to knock ‘er down and break her ‘ip. You can see for yourself, officer, it looks as if he trampled on ‘er face as ‘e went passed. Things’ll never improve ‘til they bring back ‘angin’ and floggin’. Excuse my French but that’s all these bloody little bastards understand.’ She jabbed a stubby finger in the direction of Maud. ‘That’s what you get for bein’ a good citizen all your life, payin’ yer taxes an’ everythin’. D’you know ‘er husband, ‘Arold, was at Dunkirk? Got the Military Cross ‘e did.’
The police officer was momentarily distracted by his radio crackling into life. He raised the transender to his lips. ‘7496, go ahead.’ He listened to a barely audible response, spoke a few cryptic words of his own into the instrument, and then rose to his feet to excuse himself. ‘I’m sorry for cutting you short, but I’m afraid something’s cropped up. So, I’d like to thank you both for your time and assistance. I realise it can’t have been easy for either of you, however, if anything else comes to light that I think you may be able to help us with, I hope you won’t mind me getting in touch again.’
Joseph Ward looked exactly how Maud Harwood had described him: sixteen, lean, below average height, short fair hair, Nike trainers, blue jeans, and a dark green sweat shirt with a ‘Timberland’ logo in gold lettering across the chest. David Rogers had to get him out of a cell and take him into an interview room to speak to him.
He had been less than an hour since Jill Laurence had arrested him in the Jewellery Quarter, attempting to trade Maud’s gold locket at Cohen’s ‘Gold & Silver Jewellery, Wholesalers & Retailers’. It transpired that the proprietor had alerted the police, when his suspicion had been raised by the hesitancy of the vendor to supply a valid name and address. Such was the blasé attitude of the young robber; he hadn’t even stopped to remove the small photographs of Maud and her husband from the hinged compartment of the locket.
‘I ain’t sayin’ nuffink ‘til I see me brief,’ Joseph greeted the arrival of P.C. Rogers at the cell door.
‘The duty solicitor will be here shortly,’ Rogers explained.
‘Don’t want ‘im!’ Joseph snapped, ‘This is my brief.’ He thrust a business card through the hatch, into the policeman’s face. ‘Give ‘im a bell an’ tell ‘im it’s urgent. And while you’re at it, I want to see me social worker as well. And what’s ‘appened to the bloody doctor that that ugly dyke was supposed to be getting’? If ‘e ain’t ‘ere soon I want to make an official complaint. Look what the lousy bitch did to me wrists.’
Rogers was forced to inspect the pale blue bruising on Ward’s wrists, which, according to Jill Laurence, were caused by the prisoner’s reluctance to be handcuffed. David Rogers had also born witness to the nasty grazes on his colleague’s shins, resulting from her prisoner’s objections to being arrested. He was about to leave the prisoner to make enquiries regarding the doctor when Ward called him back.
‘Oi! An’ while yer at it, get me a smoke, will ya? Hey! An’ I ain’t ‘ad nuffink to eat for hours.’
It was at times like this that David Rogers found it most difficult to retain his professional objectivity. He had just left a frail old lady with a broken hip and a battered face, who had had to wait three hours on a trolley in a hospital corridor before receiving any medical attention. Now he found himself confronting a violent adolescent, who, far from contributing anything to society, was preying on those who did like a gutless hyena, then demanding legal aid, social workers, immediate medical attention, cigarettes and food. Police Officer Rogers couldn’t pinpoint precisely what it was, but he suspected there was something not quite right with the legal system that he was such an integral part of.
Epilogue:
Maud Harwood never returned to her beloved little redbrick terraced house, which she had lived all her married life in. Medical opinion suggested that, as she was too frail and vulnerable to look after herself, she should be cared for in a residential nursing home.
Joseph Ward was tried and convicted of aggravated burglary. Because of extenuating circumstances (there was no place available for him in secure accommodation) he was given a suspended sentence and a couple of hundred hours community work. His victim never regained the standard of health she had enjoyed before the incident.
And when Maud died of pneumonia some months after her ordeal, Joseph Ward happened to be on an outward-bound course, mountain climbing, canoeing etc. in Snowdonia. The venture being designed by well meaning influential members of society especially for socially excluded young offenders. The idea was to promote their communication skills and encourage a team spirit, so that they could be better integrated into the community, which had served them so badly.
Joseph Ward knew exactly what to expect from the course and excelled in all the activities. It was nothing new to him; he had learned a lot from a similar course he had attended the previous year.
THE END
I hope you'll excuse me for posting yet another one. This one I wrote some time ago is similar to Chris' "Backdoor" one but sadly with a different conclusion...
CRIME AND CORRECTION
While Maud gathered her thoughts, showing great patience, the young constable paused at regular intervals to sip at the tea, which the pretty dark-eyed nurse had served to them all. Action by painful action, Maud Harwood struggled to recall every minute detail, in response to the policeman’s prompts.
‘I’m sorry, I can’t remember exactly what time it was, but Neighbours hadn’t long finished,’ she apologised unnecessarily.
‘So it had to be after two,’ Mrs Collins chipped in, only too keen to exhibit her knowledge of the TV scheduling.
‘And was it a knock, or did he ring the bell?’ P.C. Rogers asked, pausing his pen on the paper.
‘Oh, he rang the bell first. Then, when I didn’t get to the door quick enough he started banging.’
‘So, tell me what happened next,’ the policeman encouraged her.
‘I got up out of my chair and went to open the door. You’ve asked me all this before!’
‘Yes, I’m sorry,’ the P.C. confessed with a comforting smile. ‘But I just want to make sure I’ve got it right.’
‘Well I got to the door and he…’
‘I’m sorry again,’ P.C. Rogers interrupted, ‘How many did you say were at the door?’ He ignored the look of disdain that Mrs Collins shot at him.
‘One!’ Maud told him impatiently, ‘There was one young man on the step.’
‘And how did you say he was dressed?’
‘I didn’t get much of a chance to look at him before he shoved me backwards into the hall. But,’ Her purple grazed brow creased with the effort of thought, ‘ I’m pretty sure he was wearing blue trousers - jeans and a jumper.’
‘And can you remember what colour the jumper was?’
‘Green and I think it had writing on it,’ she said screwing up her blackened eyes to get a clearer vision.
David Rogers was blatantly aware of how intrusive his line of questioning was but he needed to know all the details. He hated violent crimes, especially when committed against the elderly. And this time he was determined the culprit, for once, would not get away scot-free.
‘And then?’ he coaxed Maud as gently as he could. And again Marilyn Collins shot him a wary glance.
‘And then,’ Maud continued, dabbing a tear from her cheek with the corner of her hanky, ‘I staggered backwards trying to keep my balance but I lost my footing and slipped over as he pushed passed me. I can’t remember anything after that until Marilyn arrived.’
P. C. Rogers swung his attention onto Maud’s neighbour. ‘So, what time was it when you noticed the front door left open, Mrs Collins?’
Marilyn Collins gazed at the ceiling and twiddled her thumbs around one another while she gathered her thoughts. ‘Let me see, I was rushing back from the shops to catch the beginning of Countdown, so it must have been after four. Well I couldn’t believe it. She was in a terrible state. They ought to ‘ang the little sod when they cop ‘old of ‘im. It wasn’t enough for ‘im to knock ‘er down and break her ‘ip. You can see for yourself, officer, it looks as if he trampled on ‘er face as ‘e went passed. Things’ll never improve ‘til they bring back ‘angin’ and floggin’. Excuse my French but that’s all these bloody little bastards understand.’ She jabbed a stubby finger in the direction of Maud. ‘That’s what you get for bein’ a good citizen all your life, payin’ yer taxes an’ everythin’. D’you know ‘er husband, ‘Arold, was at Dunkirk? Got the Military Cross ‘e did.’
The police officer was momentarily distracted by his radio crackling into life. He raised the transender to his lips. ‘7496, go ahead.’ He listened to a barely audible response, spoke a few cryptic words of his own into the instrument, and then rose to his feet to excuse himself. ‘I’m sorry for cutting you short, but I’m afraid something’s cropped up. So, I’d like to thank you both for your time and assistance. I realise it can’t have been easy for either of you, however, if anything else comes to light that I think you may be able to help us with, I hope you won’t mind me getting in touch again.’
Joseph Ward looked exactly how Maud Harwood had described him: sixteen, lean, below average height, short fair hair, Nike trainers, blue jeans, and a dark green sweat shirt with a ‘Timberland’ logo in gold lettering across the chest. David Rogers had to get him out of a cell and take him into an interview room to speak to him.
He had been less than an hour since Jill Laurence had arrested him in the Jewellery Quarter, attempting to trade Maud’s gold locket at Cohen’s ‘Gold & Silver Jewellery, Wholesalers & Retailers’. It transpired that the proprietor had alerted the police, when his suspicion had been raised by the hesitancy of the vendor to supply a valid name and address. Such was the blasé attitude of the young robber; he hadn’t even stopped to remove the small photographs of Maud and her husband from the hinged compartment of the locket.
‘I ain’t sayin’ nuffink ‘til I see me brief,’ Joseph greeted the arrival of P.C. Rogers at the cell door.
‘The duty solicitor will be here shortly,’ Rogers explained.
‘Don’t want ‘im!’ Joseph snapped, ‘This is my brief.’ He thrust a business card through the hatch, into the policeman’s face. ‘Give ‘im a bell an’ tell ‘im it’s urgent. And while you’re at it, I want to see me social worker as well. And what’s ‘appened to the bloody doctor that that ugly dyke was supposed to be getting’? If ‘e ain’t ‘ere soon I want to make an official complaint. Look what the lousy bitch did to me wrists.’
Rogers was forced to inspect the pale blue bruising on Ward’s wrists, which, according to Jill Laurence, were caused by the prisoner’s reluctance to be handcuffed. David Rogers had also born witness to the nasty grazes on his colleague’s shins, resulting from her prisoner’s objections to being arrested. He was about to leave the prisoner to make enquiries regarding the doctor when Ward called him back.
‘Oi! An’ while yer at it, get me a smoke, will ya? Hey! An’ I ain’t ‘ad nuffink to eat for hours.’
It was at times like this that David Rogers found it most difficult to retain his professional objectivity. He had just left a frail old lady with a broken hip and a battered face, who had had to wait three hours on a trolley in a hospital corridor before receiving any medical attention. Now he found himself confronting a violent adolescent, who, far from contributing anything to society, was preying on those who did like a gutless hyena, then demanding legal aid, social workers, immediate medical attention, cigarettes and food. Police Officer Rogers couldn’t pinpoint precisely what it was, but he suspected there was something not quite right with the legal system that he was such an integral part of.
Epilogue:
Maud Harwood never returned to her beloved little redbrick terraced house, which she had lived all her married life in. Medical opinion suggested that, as she was too frail and vulnerable to look after herself, she should be cared for in a residential nursing home.
Joseph Ward was tried and convicted of aggravated burglary. Because of extenuating circumstances (there was no place available for him in secure accommodation) he was given a suspended sentence and a couple of hundred hours community work. His victim never regained the standard of health she had enjoyed before the incident.
And when Maud died of pneumonia some months after her ordeal, Joseph Ward happened to be on an outward-bound course, mountain climbing, canoeing etc. in Snowdonia. The venture being designed by well meaning influential members of society especially for socially excluded young offenders. The idea was to promote their communication skills and encourage a team spirit, so that they could be better integrated into the community, which had served them so badly.
Joseph Ward knew exactly what to expect from the course and excelled in all the activities. It was nothing new to him; he had learned a lot from a similar course he had attended the previous year.
THE END
I can,t sigh like Sue, wish I could Babe x
