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Authors: James A. Shea
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bit of retribution.
Early was his retribution, and as such he was perfect. The man was an embarrassment to SOCA; he was only in the team due to the old boys network that held the puppet strings of department staffing. He had been a useful man—once upon a time—but that was a good twenty years ago. In recent years he was just an oaf.
He had just returned to work after a period of long-term sickness, due to a bad back, though no one in the office believed this. All in all, he was just playing time until his pension kicked in, which was now a mere a few weeks away.
D.S. Early was a fat, lazy, and disengaged police officer. The perfect person to report into Khan. Hawkins smiled broadly as Khan looked the Detective Sergeant up and down.
Early approached Khan and shook her hand. “Ma’am.”
“Sit down Early,” Hawkins said.
Early collapsed into a seat next to Khan, with a big sigh that would lead someone to believe he’d been walking all day to get there. But there was no chance of that, Hawkins thought, smiling to himself. Khan did not look happy.
“D.S. Early has thirty years’ experience in the force,” Hawkins said, hoping to end the meeting quickly. “Twenty five of these have been as a detective, mostly in different serious crime divisions.”
“How long until you retire Detective Sergeant?” asked Khan.
“Got about four weeks left, not that I’m counting,” Early laughed. “The stories I could tell you about this place. Don’t worry I can fill you in on how things work here Guv.”
“With respect sir,” Khan said to Hawkins. “I need a younger officer. I’m looking to start a vigorous operation…”
“Stop right there, Missie! There will be no age discrimination in my unit!” Hawkins’ face reddened with anger.
Khan sank into her seat.
“Now you might think that you know everything there is about police work, but let me tell you, you don’t! And that man there will be able to teach you a lot. He knows the faces, the places, and everything there is to know about crime in London. Which is a damn sight more than you!” Hawkins glared back at the new arrival.
Early moved in his seat slightly, unwittingly displaying his discomfort at being present at a disagreement between two senior officers.
“Sir, I am merely saying that four weeks will not give me any continuity in my operation. I think that D.S. Early would be better suited to a desk job until his retirement.” Khan said, keeping her cool.
“Ma’am, I have worked in the field for almost thirty years. I'm sure I’ll be able to help with any investigations you have in mind,” Early interjected.
“And what are your current duties, Detective Sergeant?” Khan enquired.
“Over the last couple of months, I’ve been helping the whole team with their records a bit,” Early said, looking back at Hawkins.
Hawkins was just pleased that the Early had not said that he’d had his feet up at home watching daytime TV.
Khan sighed.
“We are not here for a job interview, D.I. Khan. You are teamed with D.S. Early from this point, and that is the end of it,” Hawkins said sternly.
Khan looked back for a moment. She looked like she might be ready to put up more of an objection. But instead she just nodded.
Chapter Seven - Mickey the Bag
Mickey walked into the bathroom, while doing up his shirt. Looking good was important to him; it was part and parcel of who he was. He wasn’t a fan of wearing suits. To him that was more for the pricks that worked from nine to five. But with that said he still believed in looking smart. Today he was wearing his black silk shirt, open to the chest to show the gold chain that Dawn had bought him last Christmas. The chain was worth at least five grand and good proper bling. It matched the set of gold rings that he wore on both hands. He looked the shit! He looked how people expected Mickey Dunne to look.
“Mickey, your breakfast is ready,” Dawn shouted from the kitchen.
Dawn and Mickey
Early was his retribution, and as such he was perfect. The man was an embarrassment to SOCA; he was only in the team due to the old boys network that held the puppet strings of department staffing. He had been a useful man—once upon a time—but that was a good twenty years ago. In recent years he was just an oaf.
He had just returned to work after a period of long-term sickness, due to a bad back, though no one in the office believed this. All in all, he was just playing time until his pension kicked in, which was now a mere a few weeks away.
D.S. Early was a fat, lazy, and disengaged police officer. The perfect person to report into Khan. Hawkins smiled broadly as Khan looked the Detective Sergeant up and down.
Early approached Khan and shook her hand. “Ma’am.”
“Sit down Early,” Hawkins said.
Early collapsed into a seat next to Khan, with a big sigh that would lead someone to believe he’d been walking all day to get there. But there was no chance of that, Hawkins thought, smiling to himself. Khan did not look happy.
“D.S. Early has thirty years’ experience in the force,” Hawkins said, hoping to end the meeting quickly. “Twenty five of these have been as a detective, mostly in different serious crime divisions.”
“How long until you retire Detective Sergeant?” asked Khan.
“Got about four weeks left, not that I’m counting,” Early laughed. “The stories I could tell you about this place. Don’t worry I can fill you in on how things work here Guv.”
“With respect sir,” Khan said to Hawkins. “I need a younger officer. I’m looking to start a vigorous operation…”
“Stop right there, Missie! There will be no age discrimination in my unit!” Hawkins’ face reddened with anger.
Khan sank into her seat.
“Now you might think that you know everything there is about police work, but let me tell you, you don’t! And that man there will be able to teach you a lot. He knows the faces, the places, and everything there is to know about crime in London. Which is a damn sight more than you!” Hawkins glared back at the new arrival.
Early moved in his seat slightly, unwittingly displaying his discomfort at being present at a disagreement between two senior officers.
“Sir, I am merely saying that four weeks will not give me any continuity in my operation. I think that D.S. Early would be better suited to a desk job until his retirement.” Khan said, keeping her cool.
“Ma’am, I have worked in the field for almost thirty years. I'm sure I’ll be able to help with any investigations you have in mind,” Early interjected.
“And what are your current duties, Detective Sergeant?” Khan enquired.
“Over the last couple of months, I’ve been helping the whole team with their records a bit,” Early said, looking back at Hawkins.
Hawkins was just pleased that the Early had not said that he’d had his feet up at home watching daytime TV.
Khan sighed.
“We are not here for a job interview, D.I. Khan. You are teamed with D.S. Early from this point, and that is the end of it,” Hawkins said sternly.
Khan looked back for a moment. She looked like she might be ready to put up more of an objection. But instead she just nodded.
Chapter Seven - Mickey the Bag
Mickey walked into the bathroom, while doing up his shirt. Looking good was important to him; it was part and parcel of who he was. He wasn’t a fan of wearing suits. To him that was more for the pricks that worked from nine to five. But with that said he still believed in looking smart. Today he was wearing his black silk shirt, open to the chest to show the gold chain that Dawn had bought him last Christmas. The chain was worth at least five grand and good proper bling. It matched the set of gold rings that he wore on both hands. He looked the shit! He looked how people expected Mickey Dunne to look.
“Mickey, your breakfast is ready,” Dawn shouted from the kitchen.
Dawn and Mickey
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