Free Murders Without Motive by Harry Nankin Page A

would soon be due to have his continued detention reviewed.
    Turning the page his eyes became as large as his open mouth when he saw the entry made by Striker as to the attempted suicide.
    “Striker” he bellowed, “what the hell is this? Jesus wept, get in here”.
    Striker arrived pen in hand, “yes sir” said he.
    “I just read this entry what the hell has been going on”.
    It was self survival now thought Striker and replied “Just as it says sir, I found the incident when I walked in. I have also typed out a form A30 with all the circumstances, I will give it you”.
    “Christ yes, I will have to update Chief Super Jinton, he will update the Chief.  What a bloody palaver”.
    “Then the brief will be here with more bloody questions”
     “Not to mention next week, once headquarters hear of this, bearing in mind who, Crampton is, we will have the bloody Gestapo here”.
    He was of course referring to the force complaints and discipline department poshly referred to in slang as the Gestapo. These days correctly known as The Force Standards Department.
    The same as everything else in the police these days, posh names and titles but in reality an excuse for doing bugger all.
    The department was normally staffed by young officers of the rank of Inspector and above. Little police experience, no or practically no outside experience dealing with the dregs of society ordinary coppers deal with. They then descended on a police station  having received a complaint and nit picked on anything and everything to justify their existence.
    Striker recalled from his own experience how these officers operated.
    They ask the question, you simply answer what they ask. If you ask they look up say “I ask the questions, you are here to answer”. Speak to rank and file officer like something on the bottom of their shoes.
    He recalled when he was a young officer how one such officer, then an inspector was particularly obnoxious.
    This was noted and one night when he had left the department he had been to a function, had some drinks and then on looking in his rear view mirror he saw blue flashing lights followed by sirens.
    The marked police car overtook him, revealing another behind. The first car had pulled in front thus the off duty officer was trapped.
    He was given a breath test, it was positive. He was arrested and locked up.
    All the senior ranks realised it had been a revenge set up, but facts were facts his reading was over the top. He was done with the rest.
    Blewitt signed the sheet then walked to his office reporting the incident to Chief Superintendent Jinton, who said nothing except “Thank you, Inspector”
    Blewitt was certain that the Chief-Constable would be fully aware within five minutes.
    Pearson arrived and on walking in Striker updated him; he shook his head and replied.
    “He is still alive then and fit for interview?”
    “Yes on both counts” replied Striker who turned and left.
    Arriving in the CID office Pearson was joined by his sergeant Jonathon Gibson.
    At ten o’clock the phone rang Gibson answered.
    “CID Gibson” adding, “Ok we will be right there”.
    He turned and said, "Sir, Tim Templeton, Crampons` brief has arrived, the review is due so we ought to get on".
    Downstairs in the custody suite, Timothy Pendleton had arrived and when updated as to the attempted suicide asked for a copy of the sheet.
    He went to the interview room; he knew it well, he made many thousands of pounds within that small room. A regular source of income from the public purse. Mostly with repeat offenders.
     Due to the new system, little happened to them over the years and so they continued to offend, he continued to visit and represent them and thus his firms` income was a steady flow. He made no thought that the public were paying twice, that is to say, paying the police to arrest the villains and paying him to get them off.
    It was a never ending cycle, but why would he complain. It was all money and of course