shifts a week at the moment because we’re so overcrowded, they need every officer they can get some days.’
Alex smiled at her. ‘I wonder where they get their ideas from sometimes. I used to work in a probation hostel at night before I qualified and there was always trouble if I had to work the shift with a man. Two women – no trouble at all.’
‘Right. I tell you, there’s some here I hate working with. They just have to walk through the door and all the inmates start to square up to them. Maybe it’s the testosterone or something. Anyway, you were asking about the Remand wing?’
Alex outlined her concerns about Kevin as quickly as she could. The waiting room was empty and a lull in the comings and goings of visitors was rare. The woman pursed her lips as Alex described the dark-haired man.
‘Sounds like he’s run foul of the didicoys,’ she said.
Alex tried to hide her shock at this statement. She’d heard the term around the office, a disparaging reference to the travellers and groups of gypsies who followed the horse markets and fun fairs that rotated through the West Country from April to early November. It was not considered polite, the local equivalent of ‘pikey’ from her native Essex.
‘Don’t look at me like that,’ said the officer. ‘Them’s not proper gypsies most of them. They’s just lazy bastards that don’t want to do a decent day’s work. Just fly-by-night con-men looking for something to steal.’ Her tone was bitter as ifthe ‘didicoys’ represented a personal insult. She turned back to the door, unlocking it with a great rattle of keys.
‘They conned my Nan out of most of her savings,’ she added as she pulled at the heavy iron door. ‘Told her they’d fix her roof after the storms last year. Course, they just grabbed the money, splashed a bit of cement on and took all the lead flashing off with them.’
Alex opened her mouth to speak but found herself lost for words.
‘Well, anyway, don’t you worry. I’ll keep an eye out for your lad. There’s a couple of decent blokes on the Remand an’ all, so I’ll let them know.’
‘Thanks,’ said Alex as she stepped through to the reception hall.
‘I’m Margie, by the way,’ added the woman as she closed the door behind her.
’I’m Alex—’ the door closed with a clang, but she saw Margie nod and smile in acknowledgement through the tiny barred window.
There was no getting round it, Alex thought as she bowled merrily through the lanes towards the office, she needed to talk to Brian. She was not surprised he’d said nothing about seeing Kevin that night. Elvering was almost a way of life for the local men, but it was poaching and the river wardens were coming down very hard on everyone they caught. There was a lot of talk about the dwindling stocks of eels and the need to protect the baby elvers as they made their long and arduous journey up the rivers and over the fields to the eel equivalent of their ancestral home. Elvers were a delicacy in some parts of the world and they represented a short-lived but rich stream of income for those willing to brave the elements and the wardens. Getting Brian to talk to her, let alone make a statement to the police, would not be easy.
Derek stood on the footbridge over the canal, just up from the sluice gate that closed the huge drainage system off fromthe river, and peered around him. It was early morning and the mist was rising from the surrounding land as the spring sunlight began to suck the winter moisture from the sodden earth. The air was still and around him came the sounds of wildlife waking to greet the warmer weather. Birds called from the bushes, seeking mates or claiming their territory, croaks and clucks from small groups of waterfowl echoed eerily up the canal and there was a nervous rustling from the reeds along the bank as the smaller mammals peered out into the daylight. The barges that had once made this a busy port had long departed and
Alex smiled at her. ‘I wonder where they get their ideas from sometimes. I used to work in a probation hostel at night before I qualified and there was always trouble if I had to work the shift with a man. Two women – no trouble at all.’
‘Right. I tell you, there’s some here I hate working with. They just have to walk through the door and all the inmates start to square up to them. Maybe it’s the testosterone or something. Anyway, you were asking about the Remand wing?’
Alex outlined her concerns about Kevin as quickly as she could. The waiting room was empty and a lull in the comings and goings of visitors was rare. The woman pursed her lips as Alex described the dark-haired man.
‘Sounds like he’s run foul of the didicoys,’ she said.
Alex tried to hide her shock at this statement. She’d heard the term around the office, a disparaging reference to the travellers and groups of gypsies who followed the horse markets and fun fairs that rotated through the West Country from April to early November. It was not considered polite, the local equivalent of ‘pikey’ from her native Essex.
‘Don’t look at me like that,’ said the officer. ‘Them’s not proper gypsies most of them. They’s just lazy bastards that don’t want to do a decent day’s work. Just fly-by-night con-men looking for something to steal.’ Her tone was bitter as ifthe ‘didicoys’ represented a personal insult. She turned back to the door, unlocking it with a great rattle of keys.
‘They conned my Nan out of most of her savings,’ she added as she pulled at the heavy iron door. ‘Told her they’d fix her roof after the storms last year. Course, they just grabbed the money, splashed a bit of cement on and took all the lead flashing off with them.’
Alex opened her mouth to speak but found herself lost for words.
‘Well, anyway, don’t you worry. I’ll keep an eye out for your lad. There’s a couple of decent blokes on the Remand an’ all, so I’ll let them know.’
‘Thanks,’ said Alex as she stepped through to the reception hall.
‘I’m Margie, by the way,’ added the woman as she closed the door behind her.
’I’m Alex—’ the door closed with a clang, but she saw Margie nod and smile in acknowledgement through the tiny barred window.
There was no getting round it, Alex thought as she bowled merrily through the lanes towards the office, she needed to talk to Brian. She was not surprised he’d said nothing about seeing Kevin that night. Elvering was almost a way of life for the local men, but it was poaching and the river wardens were coming down very hard on everyone they caught. There was a lot of talk about the dwindling stocks of eels and the need to protect the baby elvers as they made their long and arduous journey up the rivers and over the fields to the eel equivalent of their ancestral home. Elvers were a delicacy in some parts of the world and they represented a short-lived but rich stream of income for those willing to brave the elements and the wardens. Getting Brian to talk to her, let alone make a statement to the police, would not be easy.
Derek stood on the footbridge over the canal, just up from the sluice gate that closed the huge drainage system off fromthe river, and peered around him. It was early morning and the mist was rising from the surrounding land as the spring sunlight began to suck the winter moisture from the sodden earth. The air was still and around him came the sounds of wildlife waking to greet the warmer weather. Birds called from the bushes, seeking mates or claiming their territory, croaks and clucks from small groups of waterfowl echoed eerily up the canal and there was a nervous rustling from the reeds along the bank as the smaller mammals peered out into the daylight. The barges that had once made this a busy port had long departed and
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