Page 21 of Next in Line

‘Werejust about to go off duty,’ said William, correcting him. Jennings turned to leave, mumbling something incoherent under his breath.

‘I’ve seen worse first thing in the morning,’ said Rebecca once he’d closed the door behind him. ‘But not since my student days.’

‘Are you referring to the Sergeant or the room?’

‘Both,’ she said, looking around, ‘but I’m confident I can improve at least one of them in the short term.’

‘It’s their way of letting us know how they feel about outsiders interfering with their entitled way of life. I think you can assume we’ll be left in the basement until they find out we’re not a bargain.’

‘Don’t worry, chief, I’ll have a Renoir, a Picasso and a Matisse on the wall long before the Superintendent turns up.’

‘I’d prefer a phone, a filing cabinet and a wastepaper basket,’ said William as he began to open the desk drawers, only to discover the cupboard was bare.

Rebecca took a small notepad and a Biro out of her attaché case and handed them to William, as Jennings ambled back into the room.

‘Go back out, Sergeant,’ said William. ‘Knock on the door and wait until you’re asked to come in. And when you do, remember to bring your own chair.’

Rebecca would have liked to have captured the look on Jennings’s face to remind her of their first day at work with Royalty Protection. This time he retreated without comment.

‘I do believe you’re enjoying yourself, chief,’ ventured Rebecca.

‘If Jennings is anything to go by, this is going to be more of a challenge than I’d originally thought.’

There was a knock on the door.

‘Come in,’ said William.

Jennings opened the door and walked back in, carrying a comfortable chair.

‘You can sit down, Sergeant,’ said William.

Jennings placed his chair in front of the desk and sat down. William remained standing, while Jennings leant forward, asif perched on a stool in the corner of a boxing ring, waiting for the bell to sound for the first round.

‘Name and rank?’

‘I’ve already told you,’ retorted Jennings.

‘One more piece of insubordination, Sergeant, and I’ll be getting my red pen out and asking for your pocket book.’

‘Why, what have I done?’

‘It’s what you haven’t done,’ said William. ‘You were on night duty but, when you opened the front door, it was clear I’d woken you, as you were unshaven and yawning.’

Jennings shifted uneasily in his chair.

‘Name and rank?’ repeated William.

‘Sergeant Ray Jennings.’

‘How long have you been a member of the police force, Sergeant?’

‘Six years.’

‘Six years,sir.’

‘Six years, sir.’

‘What is your position?’

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