bloody eighteen hour day for the past thirty years for what we've got. I've bloody earned it all Every last bloody blade of grass."
"I'm not saying you haven't, sir. I'm just trying to point out the realities of life."
Well if that lot over there in Scrub End," Murray pointed in the direction of the black trees, "got off their sponging backsides and stopped breeding for nine months of their bloody lives, they could have the same."
"Hear hear." Louis called out, aware of heads turning his way. He felt a prod between his shoulder blades. The Maggot getting nervous.
"Hear hear," chorused everyone and began a slow handclap. Jarvis looked uncomfortable.
"Er... umph. Right. Point taken. But don't expect mere burglar alarms will keep jealousy away. And for the record, it wasn't me who mentioned that particular estate." "Someone had to." Frau Zeller's mottled hand was raised like that of a keen schoolgirl. "We had four of that scum round last Wednesday afternoon. And," she glowered at the constable, "we weren't at all happy about having our names in the paper."
Another slow handclap which brought Jarvis to his feet.
"OK, so it was a dead dog. Let's hope it stays at a dog," he added darkly. Another look at Louis who in turn let his gaze stray to ‘Mr Spotty's’ strange complexion. A numb silence was broken by someone's mobile quickly suppressed.
"What exactly are you implying?" Demanded Ahmed Patel from number 7.
"Just that the family who called with an RSPCA officer to identify it, could have done a quick recce and passed on what they saw. We know what the drugs scene's like over there."
Mr Patel's liquid eyes fixed on the constable. "Are you saying
murder
is possible?"
Jarvis shrugged. Robbery with violence. Who knows?" He looked at his hostess finishing off her glass of water. "If you live on your own here, a) make sure you're ex-directory and b) install a front door spy hole and intercom…"
"I will, thank you officer." But Louis saw how she'd suddenly grown more pale. Her teeth fastened on her bottom lip.
"So who exactly were these interlopers?" asked The Maggot.
"A woman and three kids." Frau Zeller again.
Dave winced at that last word, while someone muttered something about rabbits.
"Names? Ages?"
"I tried asking for identification," said the German, "but she said her name was Mrs Jones and that would do. Of course I didn't believe it for a moment and because the dog was smelling so bad, I was glad for her to take it away. As quickly as possible, you understand..."
"Are we talking teenagers or what?" queried Don Smith, Head of Sales for a franking machine company.
"Bloody allsorts." The Booth-Collinses spoke in unison. "We actually saw them heading into the Zellers," the husband continued. "I tell you something else. The red-haired lad - about twelve he was - gave our Landcruiser a good looking over. We found it most disconcerting. I expect he'll be nicking it next."
"Not unless you garage it and alarm your garage." Jarvis said.
A collective sigh rose up. Even with the patio doors open, the room was solid heat, the flies ever noisier. Mrs Linklater had fetched herself another glass of mineral water and stood sipping it.
"We could run the CCTV camera in slow motion to pick up on these characters," she said, her lips glistening. "And the learner driver nuisances who think our development's just for practising reversing..."
"It's called Seccam," Louis corrected her.
"Well, whatever. There's been no film in the thing for a week now." The salesman again. "Whose turn is it?"
All eyes swivelled on to The Maggot. Louis too, turned round, smirking at his embarrassment.
"Look, I've had assessments up to here,” protested the Senior Lecturer. “Q A A stuff and an Inspection to worry about. I can't do bloody everything."
Jarvis coughed. "Well that's up to you lot to sort out, but in the meantime, I suggest you club together for some more street lights. It's too dark. You're all vulnerable because
"I'm not saying you haven't, sir. I'm just trying to point out the realities of life."
Well if that lot over there in Scrub End," Murray pointed in the direction of the black trees, "got off their sponging backsides and stopped breeding for nine months of their bloody lives, they could have the same."
"Hear hear." Louis called out, aware of heads turning his way. He felt a prod between his shoulder blades. The Maggot getting nervous.
"Hear hear," chorused everyone and began a slow handclap. Jarvis looked uncomfortable.
"Er... umph. Right. Point taken. But don't expect mere burglar alarms will keep jealousy away. And for the record, it wasn't me who mentioned that particular estate." "Someone had to." Frau Zeller's mottled hand was raised like that of a keen schoolgirl. "We had four of that scum round last Wednesday afternoon. And," she glowered at the constable, "we weren't at all happy about having our names in the paper."
Another slow handclap which brought Jarvis to his feet.
"OK, so it was a dead dog. Let's hope it stays at a dog," he added darkly. Another look at Louis who in turn let his gaze stray to ‘Mr Spotty's’ strange complexion. A numb silence was broken by someone's mobile quickly suppressed.
"What exactly are you implying?" Demanded Ahmed Patel from number 7.
"Just that the family who called with an RSPCA officer to identify it, could have done a quick recce and passed on what they saw. We know what the drugs scene's like over there."
Mr Patel's liquid eyes fixed on the constable. "Are you saying
murder
is possible?"
Jarvis shrugged. Robbery with violence. Who knows?" He looked at his hostess finishing off her glass of water. "If you live on your own here, a) make sure you're ex-directory and b) install a front door spy hole and intercom…"
"I will, thank you officer." But Louis saw how she'd suddenly grown more pale. Her teeth fastened on her bottom lip.
"So who exactly were these interlopers?" asked The Maggot.
"A woman and three kids." Frau Zeller again.
Dave winced at that last word, while someone muttered something about rabbits.
"Names? Ages?"
"I tried asking for identification," said the German, "but she said her name was Mrs Jones and that would do. Of course I didn't believe it for a moment and because the dog was smelling so bad, I was glad for her to take it away. As quickly as possible, you understand..."
"Are we talking teenagers or what?" queried Don Smith, Head of Sales for a franking machine company.
"Bloody allsorts." The Booth-Collinses spoke in unison. "We actually saw them heading into the Zellers," the husband continued. "I tell you something else. The red-haired lad - about twelve he was - gave our Landcruiser a good looking over. We found it most disconcerting. I expect he'll be nicking it next."
"Not unless you garage it and alarm your garage." Jarvis said.
A collective sigh rose up. Even with the patio doors open, the room was solid heat, the flies ever noisier. Mrs Linklater had fetched herself another glass of mineral water and stood sipping it.
"We could run the CCTV camera in slow motion to pick up on these characters," she said, her lips glistening. "And the learner driver nuisances who think our development's just for practising reversing..."
"It's called Seccam," Louis corrected her.
"Well, whatever. There's been no film in the thing for a week now." The salesman again. "Whose turn is it?"
All eyes swivelled on to The Maggot. Louis too, turned round, smirking at his embarrassment.
"Look, I've had assessments up to here,” protested the Senior Lecturer. “Q A A stuff and an Inspection to worry about. I can't do bloody everything."
Jarvis coughed. "Well that's up to you lot to sort out, but in the meantime, I suggest you club together for some more street lights. It's too dark. You're all vulnerable because
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