I Shot the Sheriff ('Dead Reckoning' series - Part 3)

Continued from Episode 2 (Doctor, Doctor)

The story so far:  Things are not going well at Oakshott and Underwood.  The news about the fracas in the crematorium at the end of the 'Bring Out Your Dead' saga, has spread far and wide, with an inevitable drop in trade as a consequence. On top of all that, Josiah has injured himself and is awaiting treatment, with Archibald testing his patience as his companion, and they're not the only ones!

“You’ll never guess who’s waiting over there, sir” D.S. Stone remarked, with a smirk, whilst leafing through his magazine.

D.I. Wood gave him a baleful look and put his own newspaper down with such a crash that it woke the napping old lady, hunched up next to him.

“Well, let’s see…how about Mahatma Gandhi and Mother Teresa after a freak trampolining accident?  Am I close?”

“Er, no sir, not really” D.S. Stone shook his head.

“You do surprise me, Sergeant” D.I. Wood shook his paper out again, attracting an evil glare from his geriatric next-door neighbour.

“Shall I tell you then?”

“Well, there’s a thought!” D.I. Wood said, from the refuge of his newspaper.

“It’s only those two from the funeral parlour” D.S. Stone looked exceedingly smug.

D.I. Wood crashed his newspaper to his lap, causing the little old lady to utter an expletive, grab her Zimmer frame and head off to a quieter corner.

“You’re having a laugh!”  He looked at his Sergeant quizzically.

“No, straight up, sir.  They’re over there, by the window”

“Well, I can’t see ‘em” D.I. Wood tried to peer through the throng.

“Well, they’re definitely there” D.S. Stone pointed, “look, the vulture-like one’s got his arm in a sling”

“Oh yeah, I see what you mean” D.I. Wood nodded, “I wonder what’s brought them here?”

“I suppose the sling is a bit of a giveaway, wouldn’t you think, sir?” D.S. Stone returned to his magazine; eyebrows raised.

“Alright, alright, no need to get sarky, Sergeant” D.I. Wood glared at his companion, “I mean it’s funny they should be here now, that’s what I’m saying, just when we’re here an’ all”

“It’s a small town, sir” D.S. Stone observed.

“I know that!” D.I. Wood snarled, “I was still hoping I’d seen the back of them two.  I don’t trust them an inch, for a kick off”

“They were cleared of any involvement in that Frankie Knight business, sir” D.S. Stone pointed out.

“Yeah, well, you know what I thought out about that!” D.I. Wood snorted, “you’re not telling me that you can haul a wanted criminal half way across Europe, in a bloody coffin for gawd’s sake, and not know what you’re doing!”

“I think they were just a bit…” D.S. Stone ventured.

“Thick?” D.I. Wood suggested.

“I was going to say, gullible, sir”

“Well, whatever, I still think it stinks” D.I. Wood shook his paper out again.

“It was, erm, surprising that they put you forward for that Bravery Award, didn’t you think, sir?” D.S. Stone knew he was chancing his arm but it had been niggling him for days.

“Well, not really, Sergeant” D.I. Wood squared his shoulders and tried to look heroic, “I was in charge of the operation and I did stop that conveyor”

“Yes, sir, but I was the one who threw himself at the man with the gun”

“Oh, yeah, fair enough” D.I. Wood nodded, “but he had been brained by the coffin lid coming down, so you weren’t in any danger, really, were you?  Any road, they’ve put you up for your Inspector’s exam, so it’s an ill wind, isn’t it?”

“Only if I pass it!” D.S. Stone muttered from the safety of his magazine, and added, sotto voce, “then again, how hard can it be?”

“I hope we’re not going to be here much longer, my foot’s giving me some gyp and no mistake!” D.I. Wood took the opportunity to change the subject.

“Wonder how that happened, sir?”

“I think it might have been from that bit of action we saw” D.I. Wood rubbed his leg and winced a little, for maximum effect.

“Could be a case for compensation then, sir?” D.S. Stone asked, pointedly.

“It’s a thought, Sergeant, it’s a thought!”  D.I. Wood attempted to look pained but stoic, at least, that was what he was aiming for.  D.S. Stone thought he looked constipated.

* * * *

Josiah Oakshott, now sporting a much more professional sling than the one he had worn on the way in, weaved his way through the waiting throng, back toward his colleague, Archibald Thurble.

“I think we can be on our way now, Archibald” Josiah announced to his employee, who was currently absorbed in something on his mobile phone.  Archibald visibly jumped and guiltily buried his phone in his pocket.

“Oh, there you are Mr. O.” Archibald looked flustered, “what’s the verdict?”

“Thankfully, the x-ray examination has confirmed the Nurse Practitioner’s preliminary diagnosis that my injury is a sprain, rather than a fracture.” Josiah rubbed his wrist a little, “A severe sprain, she said, mind you” He added, for effect.

“Aw, I was hoping you’d get a pot so we could all sign it and stuff”

“Which just goes to show that there is a god!” Josiah sighed, “I’m afraid that it does mean I am still unable to drive in my own right, therefore I shall have to prevail upon your good offices”

“I don’t have an office” Archibald looked puzzled, “I’ve just got this stool in the workshop, that and a bit of shelf, so it’s not very good”

“I was not referring to an office as a place of work, Archibald.  I believe the definition of ‘good offices’ is ‘services done for another’, which, in this case, relates to you driving on my behalf”

“Oh, right-ho! Yeah, no problem” Archibald grinned.

“Which will be particularly helpful as we need to travel to the wilds of Cheshire”

“Does Cheshire have ‘wilds’?” Archibald queried, “Lions and tigers and bears and stuff?”

“I was just utilising a picturesque turn of speech” Josiah explained, “I have need of transportation to a village in Cheshire, so that I may respond to the query concerning our services which, you may recall,  arrived before my appointment with the Nurse Practitioner”

“It’s a bit out of our neck of the woods, innit?”  Archibald observed.

Josiah frowned at the use of ‘innit’ but couldn’t really find fault, on this occasion.

“I admit that Cheshire hardly constitutes our normal area of operation, Archibald, however, needs must when the devil drives!”

“I thought you said I was driving!”

* * * *

“I didn’t think we would be sitting ‘round here this long, Stoney!” D.I. Wood fumed, “Oh sod this for a game of soldiers, I’m going out for a smoke”

“But, what if they call you, sir?”

“We could be here for hours yet…days from the look of some of the poor buggers in here.” D.I. Wood patted his pockets, “I need a fag, tell them you’ll give me a shout”

“I’m really not sure, sir” D.S. Stone looked concerned.

“Don’t be so wet, Sergeant!” D.I. Wood snapped, “they can’t keep you banged up in this germ-ridden shit-hole, forever.  Bloody hell, even hens have got a right to fresh air and a bit of walk around, I reckon I’ve at least got the right to go for a smoke!”

D.I. Wood raised himself, uncertainly and began to lurch off to the exit, when:

“Clarence Wood?” The Nurse Practitioner announced.

“Clarence?” D.S. Stone spluttered.

“Not a bloody word, Stoney, you hear me?  Not a bloody word!”

* * * *

Meanwhile, somewhere in the ‘wilds’ of Cheshire:

“Did you send the message, mama?”

“I did, my dear”

“Has he responded?”

“Not yet, sweetheart, but he will, he will”

“Do you think he will come to us?”

“Of that, I am certain, my precious.  Absolutely certain!”

Now read Episode 4