work with a number of complaints, including backache, neck-pain, anxiety, stress, depression and, impressively, Crohn’s disease. The one common factor all of these ailments shared, aside from the fact that Davies claimed to be afflicted by them, was the difficulty in diagnosing or, more importantly, disproving them, which meant Davies’ suspiciously lengthy absences from work continued to go unpunished.
‘I’ve got stress,’ he protested once, when challenged by a colleague in the canteen, as to whether he was ever coming back for more than a week at a time; then he’d searched the room for a potential ally until his eyes rested on Bradshaw and he announced loudly that ‘he knows what it’s like,’ instantly giving Bradshaw an association with a lazy, skiving bastard he could ill afford at that point. When Bradshawfailed to give a response, Davies had hissed, ‘Thanks for your support,’ at him, ensuring that nobody in the room retained any respect for Bradshaw, not even the malingering Davies.
The rest of the group was made up of Vincent Addison and Ian himself. We are the misfits, thought Bradshaw, too old or too young, too lazy, too sick or too damaged. He knew what this was. It was a dead-wood squad.
DI Peacock briefed them. ‘You are to conduct a thorough and methodical door-to-door in Great Middleton, in an attempt to identify the corpse in the school field and uncover a possible motive for this murder. Your presence on the streets sends an important message to the population of the village and crucially, the media, as to how seriously this case is being taken. However, we do not want you to rush this enquiry, in case you miss something vital and all leads will be reported back to me before any follow-up action is taken. Is that clear?’
In other words, acting on their own initiative was actively discouraged. None of the other men seemed bothered by this limitation, but Bradshaw still itched for the opportunity to prove he was not a complete idiot, even though he had begun to doubt that himself.
DI Peacock concluded his briefing by conceding their task was far from easy, ‘Forensics reckon the body has been there for nigh-on fifty or sixty years, so this killing could have happened during the war or even before it, which obviously means the usual plea for witnesses is going to be redundant. However, you have got a sizeable retired population in Great Middleton, so find the old fogies and question them, see if we can’t find something out about this man. Who was he, who did he fall out withand why, when did he die, why was he killed and how come nobody reported him missing all those years ago? Didn’t he have any friends or was the whole village delighted to see the back of the poor bastard so they all kept quiet in some big criminal conspiracy? I doubt it, don’t you?’ Nobody replied, Peacock continued, ‘Was he living there or passing through? Did he con someone, fall out with somebody or knock someone’s daughter up? Remember, it was a very different world back then. Stuff we’d consider trivial now was a big deal half a century back, so change your outlook and think differently. A lot of those old dears can’t remember their own names but I’ve got an aunt like that and all of a sudden she’ll start telling you about the coronation or World War Bloody Two as if it happened yesterday, so use that.’ He noted the men’s lack of enthusiasm. ‘If nothing else, you’ll get a few cups of tea and the odd slice of Battenberg cake.’ And he looked at the apathetic faces before him, ‘maybe that’ll motivate some of you,’ before he gave up and left them to it.
The four men stood silently looking at one another for a moment, then Vincent spoke.
‘I’ll put the kettle on, should I?’ Christ he couldn’t even make that decision without checking with everybody first, ‘I mean, he said there was no hurry and it’s a bit early for a door-to-door.’
Nobody bothered to give Vincent the
‘I’ve got stress,’ he protested once, when challenged by a colleague in the canteen, as to whether he was ever coming back for more than a week at a time; then he’d searched the room for a potential ally until his eyes rested on Bradshaw and he announced loudly that ‘he knows what it’s like,’ instantly giving Bradshaw an association with a lazy, skiving bastard he could ill afford at that point. When Bradshawfailed to give a response, Davies had hissed, ‘Thanks for your support,’ at him, ensuring that nobody in the room retained any respect for Bradshaw, not even the malingering Davies.
The rest of the group was made up of Vincent Addison and Ian himself. We are the misfits, thought Bradshaw, too old or too young, too lazy, too sick or too damaged. He knew what this was. It was a dead-wood squad.
DI Peacock briefed them. ‘You are to conduct a thorough and methodical door-to-door in Great Middleton, in an attempt to identify the corpse in the school field and uncover a possible motive for this murder. Your presence on the streets sends an important message to the population of the village and crucially, the media, as to how seriously this case is being taken. However, we do not want you to rush this enquiry, in case you miss something vital and all leads will be reported back to me before any follow-up action is taken. Is that clear?’
In other words, acting on their own initiative was actively discouraged. None of the other men seemed bothered by this limitation, but Bradshaw still itched for the opportunity to prove he was not a complete idiot, even though he had begun to doubt that himself.
DI Peacock concluded his briefing by conceding their task was far from easy, ‘Forensics reckon the body has been there for nigh-on fifty or sixty years, so this killing could have happened during the war or even before it, which obviously means the usual plea for witnesses is going to be redundant. However, you have got a sizeable retired population in Great Middleton, so find the old fogies and question them, see if we can’t find something out about this man. Who was he, who did he fall out withand why, when did he die, why was he killed and how come nobody reported him missing all those years ago? Didn’t he have any friends or was the whole village delighted to see the back of the poor bastard so they all kept quiet in some big criminal conspiracy? I doubt it, don’t you?’ Nobody replied, Peacock continued, ‘Was he living there or passing through? Did he con someone, fall out with somebody or knock someone’s daughter up? Remember, it was a very different world back then. Stuff we’d consider trivial now was a big deal half a century back, so change your outlook and think differently. A lot of those old dears can’t remember their own names but I’ve got an aunt like that and all of a sudden she’ll start telling you about the coronation or World War Bloody Two as if it happened yesterday, so use that.’ He noted the men’s lack of enthusiasm. ‘If nothing else, you’ll get a few cups of tea and the odd slice of Battenberg cake.’ And he looked at the apathetic faces before him, ‘maybe that’ll motivate some of you,’ before he gave up and left them to it.
The four men stood silently looking at one another for a moment, then Vincent spoke.
‘I’ll put the kettle on, should I?’ Christ he couldn’t even make that decision without checking with everybody first, ‘I mean, he said there was no hurry and it’s a bit early for a door-to-door.’
Nobody bothered to give Vincent the
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