When Duty Calls

When Duty Calls

There were days when Mrs North became quite exasperated with her
husband. He might well be a respected Inspector of the local CID but,
at times, his behaviour was no better than an inconsiderate, clumsy
adolescent and, quite frankly, he got right up her nose. Today was the
detective's day off and there were early signs to suggest that it was
going to be one of those days. It had all started in the morning when
Mrs North had come down to breakfast. She found her husband sitting at
the kitchen table merrily chomping away on a large bowlful of meusli.
Not only had he unwittingly polished off the last of the milk but the
milkman still hadn't delivered and would end up being over an hour
late.
To make matters worse, some time later, as she was finally sitting down
to her breakfast, North declared to his wife that it might be his day
off but that wasn't a reason for him not to give a hand with the
housework. He decided to start by taking the rubbish outside. It had
been raining all morning but North didn't think twice about going
outside in his carpet slippers. Mrs North watched with horror when her
husband re-entered the house and made dirty wet marks all over the
kitchen floor. Perhaps it wouldn't have been so bad if she hadn't
cleaned the floor just the day before. Following that North set off
round the house, armed with a duster, to declare war on the dust. Mrs
North was not one to discourage him but she knew he would not be as
thorough as she was. And she was right. A quick inspection on her part
revealed that North had been more than perfunctory. Of course, she
could not go round after him. She would have to wait until tomorrow.
Mrs North began to feel it was time for evasive action.
"I think we should get going," she suddenly announced. She switched off
the radio, which was just at that moment rattling on about how the
police were no nearer to catching a gang of local bank robbers, and
dressed to go out.
"So soon?" replied North, "I haven't really started yet."
"Never mind. I wanted to get to the market early today."
Mrs North shopped locally for groceries. However, she didn't drive so
they would often go together to town on the Inspector's day off. North
obediently laid down his duster and got ready to go out.
For many years the market in town had been run down but now it bustled
and glistened under a bright new green plastic roof. On arriving,
North, ever the practical man, insisted that they separate and each
take part of the list. He volunteered himself for the fruit and left
his wife to get the vegetables. He ripped the list in two and set off
before his wife could react. Mrs North immediately felt uneasy about
the arrangement but her husband had acted so quickly that she hadn't
had time to object. In her opinion, and not wishing to offend anyone,
she believed that vegetables were merely vegetables, but that fruit was
not just fruit. Her fears were soon justified once they met up again.
He'd got the wrong kind of apples, he'd bought fruit that was overripe
and he'd got grapes with seeds in them. It wouldn't have mattered if
he'd gotten different potatoes than she was used to buying, you can't
really go wrong with vegetables, but fruit? Fruit was a question of
eye, which, in the shopping department, she knew her husband didn't
have.
For Mrs North, their trip to town hadn't been as salutary as she'd
expected. Feeling slightly irritated, her only wish now was to get home
and put the kettle on.
"Let's go home, I think we've had enough for one day."
They turned to set off in the direction of their car. After a few yards
the detective halted abruptly.
"Wait a minute!" he exclaimed.
Mrs North winced.
"I still have to buy the stopcock," he reminded his wife.
"Oh yes," she sighed.
In fact, Mrs North hadn't forgotten but was rather hoping her husband
had. Considering the morning she'd had she looked with despair at what
was in store. Their bathroom toilet needed a new stopcock, and North
was insistent upon doing it himself. It wasn't that he wasn't good with
his hands but she could just do without the stress, especially as their
neighbour's son was an excellent plumber. She was happy to give him the
work and he did jobs for them at a special rate.
"It won't take a minute. I'll go over to that little shop down Water
Street."
North had never got used to those big DIY shops, could never find what
he was looking for. He preferred the old-fashioned hardware store off
the high street. Mrs North gritted her teeth. The shop was not far
away. It was only a quarter of a mile away but she realised with pain
that their car was parked in the opposite direction.
They turned round, left the market through the other exit and walked
down to the main street. The main street was a busy dual carriageway
which cut through the centre of town. To put it crudely, it separated
the old from the new. Or rather, it separated the very old which had,
for the main part, undergone extensive renovation and the just plain
old. The hardware shop was across on the other side, down a quieter
street where the main visual features were graffiti-coated boarded up
shop fronts.
North marched quickly on and Mrs North tagged on behind as best she
could. He finally halted at the pedestrian crossing before the main
road and waited for his wife to catch up. When Mrs North finally caught
up with him her weariness caused her to protest.
"No," she said, "you go over and get it. I'll just stay here." Then she
promptly sat down on a nearby bench. North, at first puzzled, looked
down at his wife's feet and, indicating that he'd understood her corns
to be the source of her fatigue, said, "O.K. I won't be long." The
lights changed and the green man beckoned North to cross over.
Mrs North looked at her watch and sighed. Time. That was the real
reason she'd not accompanied her husband. She was impatient to get
home. If she let her husband go off on his own he might be quick about
it. She'd learnt over the years that unless she gave her husband the
strong impression that he was on borrowed time, he had a strong
tendency to dawdle.
It wasn't cold, there was a bright sun that warmed the face when the
passing clouds allowed it. The high street was the heart of the town,
it had all the big shops and banks in. There was also a huge
supermarket down the bottom end. Yet in spite of the steady flow of
traffic before her she had a clear view of the shops across the street
and would be able to follow her husband as he went about his little
errand. However, as soon as North was on his way, Mrs North closed her
eyes and concentrated her mind to block out the busy sounds around her.
She relaxed the muscles in her body and breathed deeply. She pictured
herself in her own back garden, sitting in a lazy chair soaking up the
sun and drinking fresh coffee. She stayed in this serene state for what
seemed like several minutes, allowing all kinds of thoughts to flow
aimlessly through her mind. For a short while she managed to isolate
herself from the busy world around her but the bustling surroundings
eventually intruded upon her mind and unavoidably brought her back to
her reason for sitting there. She remembered her husband with a jolt.
She wondered how he was getting on. She felt the urge to open her eyes
again but was seized with a strange sense of panic. What would she see
before her? Or rather, where would her husband be? Given the amount of
time she thought she'd had her eyes closed she hoped she would see him
making his way back. She tentatively opened her eyes and crushed a
sudden urge to scream. He was still just on the other side of the main
road, waiting to cross over the side road to the hardware shop.
Mrs North was flabbergasted and she glared across at her husband in
disbelief. North, obliviously to his wife's feelings, was standing on
the kerb, acting out the green cross code with the same seriousness as
a young child trying for a road safety badge. He looked left then right
and then left again. There was no traffic. It was a quieter road. But
still he didn't cross. He looked left and right again, but remained on
the pavement. Mrs North sighed heavily in desperation but what happened
next froze her into a silent stupor. Finally, after looking about him
several more times, her husband stepped out into the road but despite
his over cautiousness he didn't seem in a hurry to get across. She had
never seen him dawdle so much. Not only did he stop and start like
someone who didn't quite know which way he was going but he ended up
dropping a bag of apples. They rolled about in all directions. North
began clumsily to pick up the fallen apples. Despite being in the
middle of the road, he didn't appear to be in a hurry. One of the
apples had rolled under a car parked at the side of the road. Mrs North
watched as her husband approached the car and dropped to his knees.
However, before North could get the apple the car suddenly sped away
from the kerb, turned into the high street and raced away with a roar.
Mrs North's gaze followed the car as it disappeared into the traffic.
Her husband watched the car too. Then he picked up the last of his
apples and went into the hardware store. As if that display wasn't
enough, Mr North did not emerge from the shop for a good ten minutes
and when he finally rejoined his wife, he had nothing else to say
except, "Are your feet rested now?"
Mrs North felt she had been watching some Charlie Chaplin film.
Fortunately for her husband, viewing events this way seemed to ease her
irritation.
As they set off back to their car police sirens could be heard
screaming in the distance.
After lunch Mrs North went off to a meeting of the local women's guild
and left her husband sitting on the sofa with a new book on the
evolution of the criminal mind. When she returned at four o'clock she
found her husband snoring away with his head slumped onto his chest.
She removed the open book from her husband's lap, placed the marker in
page three and put it on the coffee table. North awoke shortly to the
sound of a boiling kettle.
"You'll never guess what I heard?" exclaimed Mrs North, from the
kitchen.
North sat up and rubbed his eyes. How long had he dropped off, he
wondered?
"What about, my love," he mumbled, groggy.
"There was another hold up in town today, that's the third one this
month."
"Ah," sighed the detective.
"And it happened about the same moment that we where in town, just
further along the high street."
North nodded his head.
"Apparently two armed men held up a cashier while a third drove the
getaway car. They ran off with over 50 thousand pounds," Mrs North
placed a tray with tea things on the coffee table.
"Ah," repeated North once more.
"Is that all you can say?" exclaimed his wife.
North gave her a stare.
"Nobody was hurt I hope?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Good."
"I say, you don't look too surprised."
"Well, with any luck this gang might very soon be going out of
business."
Mrs North was baffled by her husband's strange behaviour but let the
matter drop. In time, she would know what was on his mind. North poured
and they each had one biscuit with their tea.
North made dinner that night. He followed a recipe for a vegetarian
spaghetti bolognaise that came from a cookery book he got for
Christmas. After that, they sat down to watch television. Mrs North
remarked that her husband's eyes were not focused on the screen even
though his head was aimed in the direction of the TV. There was
evidently something on his mind. Mrs North rang their two children in
turn to ask about their news but the children's father was more than
brief with his sons. When the doorbell rang at half past eight, North
snapped out of his daze and jumped up to answer. Mrs North suspected
her husband's peculiar attitude might soon be explained. He came back
into the room accompanied by Sergeant Cooper.
The young detective greeted Mrs North with a quiet 'allo'.
"Hello Peter," replied the lady, "how are you?"
The detective, who had only met the detective's wife on a few occasions
could not greet her with the familiarity that she addressed him. The
fact that she was the bosses wife, old enough to be is mother and a
member of the opposite sex seemed to embarrass him and just nodded an
'O.K.'
North motioned the Sergeant to sit down and then sat down
opposite.
"So let's have it then," said North.
The Sergeant Cooper beamed a bright smile and said, "we got them, red
handed, so to speak. Got the loot, the car and everything."
"No hitches?"
"No. Went off like clockwork. We had all the business, mind. Armed
response and the works."
"Excellent. Who was in charge?"
"The super, himself. And I think there'll be a few words of praise
tomorrow and all."
North patted the young man on the knee and sat back, grinning happily
to himself.
Mrs North, who had been a silent witness so far, suddenly spoke
up.
"Would someone mind putting me in the picture?"
"Well," said the Sergeant Cooper, "thanks to your husband, the gang
that have so far committed three armed robberies in this area have been
captured."
Mrs North could do nothing but give her husband a puzzled stare. She
was quick witted in her own right. She knew that her husband was not
really working this particular case. She knew also that the police had
had no real leads concerning the gang. What on earth could be the link
between her husband and the capture? Then she guessed. Their trip to
town had coincided with another hold up. Something had happened,
beneath her nose and her husband had kept quiet.
"Our trip to town today. You saw something, didn't you?"
"I wasn't sure, really. You know I don't like to play my cards until
I've got a full deck."
Mrs North suddenly burst out laughing.
"The apples, of course!"
North laughed too.
Now it was the young Sergeant's turn to look surprised.
"Can I be let in on this?" said Cooper.
"My husband will have to explain. I didn't really see so I don't know
exactly what went on but I think it's got something to do with apples,"
said Mrs North.
Sergeant Cooper looked at his superior with stupor.
"Well, it all happened this morning when we went to the market.
Afterwards I needed to go and get a stopcock from the hardware shop. I
was on the other side of the road to where the store is, it's in a
quieter street, just off the main road, and I was waiting to cross. It
wasn't really that busy but cars come into that road so quickly that I
didn't want to take any chances. Well, on the other side there was this
young man waiting in a car with the engine running. At first there was
nothing unusual about that, I suppose it was just my policeman's mind
that was making me suspicious. Anyway I noticed a few things. He had
leather gloves on and yet it was not cold. He kept revving the car up,
but most of all it was the way he looked. He looked tense, with his
eyes fixed straight ahead, watching the main road intensely. I was on
the side so he didn't see me. He also looked several times at his
watch.
Now if it hadn't been for the two other bank robberies I probably
wouldn't have given it a second thought but there have been two now and
we know how they like to operate. Two masked men go into a bank, take
out arms from a bag and ransom the cashier. They don't waste time, they
just get what they can, and when they come out, a car stops and they
get in and speed away. We know that the car is a stolen car, we find it
later. It's all very quick.
So on seeing this young man the idea just sprang into my mind. So I
wanted to get a closer look to be sure. Instead of walking further down
to cross at a more convenient spot I crossed just opposite him and
then, low and behold, I dropped the bag of apples I was carrying. They
rolled right next to the car. The young man saw me of course but didn't
see anything other than a dithering clumsy old man trying to pick up
some fallen apples. All I wanted was a little peek. I picked up my
apples without looking up at him and when I'd got them all I chanced a
look. There was no key in the ignition. The car was obviously a stolen
one. I also got a better look at the lad. And do you know something? I
recognised him. Well, not the lad exactly, but he was the spitting
image of his father. I knew there was a son whom I hadn't seen for a
while and the age coincided. Anyway he didn't hang around. He sped off
in a real hurry seconds later.
I went into the hardware store and asked if I could use the telephone.
I called in and told about my suspicions, that there was probably
another hold up taking place. I knew that it was probably too late to
intervene but I suggested that they put the Dawson home under
surveillance."
"Really!" exclaimed Mrs North. "And I thought you were dithering as
usual."
"I didn't want to frighten our young lad. You never know, he might have
recognised me. After all, I did put his father away a few years
ago."
"So what happened then?"
"That's for Sergeant Cooper to tell us."
The young detective cleared his throat and continued.
"I wasn't in charge on this, but I tagged along. After your call we put
a few lads on to survey the house. Within an hour they were back. Three
of them. In a red car."
"They had ditched the stolen one and picked up their own car to come
back."
"Right. They also had bags. The description of the young lad whom you
described corresponded to one of the men and that clinched it. The
super brought in the armed response guys and they raided the house.
They found the money and the guns. They were counting it on the kitchen
table. They had no time to react. I think our arrival put an end to
their little celebration."
'Well bravo," said Mrs North, "and on your day off too."
"When duty calls," my dear replied North.
Then he turned to Sergeant Cooper and picking up the fruit bowl on the
table in front of him, he held it out and said, 'fancy an apple
Sergeant?"