Free Shoot to Kill by James Craig Page B

mechanism at one end and was attached to a nylon harness.
    ‘It’s called the Earth Angel,’ the desk sergeant smirked.
    Carlyle made a face that suggested he was none the wiser.
    ‘It’s the world’s first green vibrator.’
    Blushing slightly, Carlyle looked swiftly over his shoulder to check that no one was eavesdropping on their conversation. He needn’t have worried. It wasn’t yet eight in the morning and the place was deserted. ‘Is the colour relevant?’
    ‘Green as in “environmentally friendly”, Inspector.’
    ‘Oh, right. And what exactly is a “green” vibrator?’
    Middleton pointed at the wind-up mechanism. ‘It doesn’t use batteries; you crank it up by hand. The guy who invented it said he was worried about climate change.’
    ‘Aren’t we all,’ nodded Carlyle. Personally, he couldn’t really give a toss about global warming. Given his experience of dealing with the human race, he assumed that whatever was being done about it was bound to be too little, too late. If we all ended up drowning, it would be our own stupid fault. He handed the bag back to the sergeant. ‘Is it any good?’
    Middleton gave him a bemused look. ‘How would I know? It’s not mine.’
    ‘No?’ Carlyle teased.
    ‘No.’ Middleton’s face broke into a sly grin. ‘I’m more of a Rampant Rabbit girl myself.’
    Now Carlyle felt himself go properly red. ‘That’s good to know,’ he coughed.
    ‘That,’ Middleton explained, gesturing at the device again, ‘is evidence. It was what that stripper used to bash Lea over the head with.’ She picked a sheet of paper from the desk and scanned it carefully. ‘Or, as Sergeant Bishop has so beautifully described it in his report:
the assailant brandished the rigid feminine pleasure device above her head and advanced on the officer in a threatening manner, proceeding to strike him about the head on multiple occasions
.’
    Carlyle laughed heartily. ‘Was it wound up at the time?’
    ‘That,’ Middleton chuckled, ‘is not recorded for posterity.’
    ‘Anyway,’ said Carlyle, feeling his eyes welling up with mirth, ‘I thought that a “rigid feminine pleasure device” was a name for a credit card, not a sex toy.’
    ‘Very good, Inspector,’ Middleton guffawed, ‘very good. We are on form today, aren’t we?’
    ‘Thank you, thank you.’
    ‘For once.’
    ‘Hey, hey,’ Carlyle protested, ‘less of that. I get stereotyped enough as it is round here.’
    Middleton reached over and squeezed him on the arm. ‘You’re not stereotyped, Inspector,’ she crooned. ‘You’re just a grumpy old sod, who manages to come out with the occasional funny one-liner.’
    Carlyle shook his head. ‘So young, yet so insightful.’
    ‘Thank you, sir!’ Middleton gave him a fake salute. ‘It’s all the training they give us these days.’
    ‘How is Constable Lea, by the way?’ Carlyle asked, once they had finished laughing, trying to fake some concern for his injured colleague.
    ‘They took him up to A&E at UCH to get a couple of stitches. He’ll be fine.’
    Carlyle nodded. The wound would be healed in a week; being clobbered by a naked lap dancer wielding a dildo would take considerably longer to live down. ‘And the stripper?’
    Middleton jerked a thumb towards the cells. ‘She’s downstairs.’
    ‘Got some clothes on?’
    ‘Yeah.’
    Shame
, thought Carlyle. ‘What about the video guy?’
    Middleton looked at her worksheet. ‘Mr . . . Craven? Bishop let him go without charge.’
    Fuck
, thought Carlyle.
    ‘He wasn’t very happy, all the same. Shouting about police brutality, infringement of his civil liberties. All the usual stuff.’
    ‘Did we give him his camera back?’
    ‘Yeah.’
    ‘Jolly good.’
    ‘Apparently he left at three a.m., promising to give you a starring role in his film. Everyone’s desperate to check out the internet.’
    ‘I bet they are,’ Carlyle said bitterly.
    ‘You might be on the Mayor’s website