Sergeant Sturgeon had never known the place so busy.
Just as he toyed with the idea of putting up a closed
sign on the doors of the police station, he noticed
the Wankine brothers approaching with their latest
parents of PCs Ian and Iain Wankine had liked the
name so much, they used it twice. Although the younger
brother resented the older sibling’s extra ‘I’, and
had long tired of his nickname of Cyclops, they were
natural work colleagues and their understanding of
each others’ foibles made them a positive boon for
the Leith police.
latest catch was Clint McMurdo, Michael Cade and his
injured daschund, Rudy, who Michael clasped under
his arm as it marked the path of their entrance through
dripping spots of blood.
‘What’s all this, then?’ asked Sgt Sturgeon.
were cauthing a fracas on Great Junction Thtreet,
tharge,’ explained Ian as he jerked Clint forward
to the desk.
shoved Michael and Rudy forward. Sergeant Sturgeon
recognised Clint as a regular client and seasoned
overnight guest in the Queen Charlotte Street hotel.
rolled out his fingers for a customary ‘Pcheeew!’
in the sergeant’s direction.
Sarge quipped: ‘We’ll have to confiscate that weapon,
Clint.’ He slapped Clint’s hand onto the counter,
retrieved a gleaming meat cleaver from behind the
desk and, raising it high above his head, brought
it crashing it down onto Clint’s wrist.
his mind, that is. In reality, he merely unfurled
Clint’s fingers to check for any hidden objects.
the sergeant continued to inspect his latest visitors,
another consignment arrived in the shape of Jock McConnell,
Guy Pistov and a couple of embarrassed looking women.
The officer handing them over clarified their offence:
of dogging, sarge. We caught them on Calton Hill.
Broad daylight. Bold as you like.’
sergeant often found it hard to keep up with the myriad
of new offences introduced since the dawn of the interweb.
‘Dogging? Is this the one where they do it with dogs?’
sarge. Humans. Humans at it like Billy-O. In cars.’
Sergeant Sturgeon this hardly sounded like a hanging
matter. However, he affected a look of knowingness
and nodded sagely.
you would like me to elaborate as to positions, length
of alleged incident, offensive weaponry, sarge.’
don’t think that will be necessary, thank you. Send
them through.’ He indicated the already teeming incident
room, still buzzing with aggrieved tourists, bus passengers
and the like.
Jock and Guy sheepishly shuffled past, the sergeant
suddenly recognized the Hibs star striker.
‘It’s Guy Pistov, isn’t it? I thought you’d already
been charged with this dogging business.’
can’t get enough of it, sarge. There’s no stopping
him,’ explained the officer.
your mind on the football, son. Keep your mind on
the football,’ advised the sergeant.
the sergeant’s pearls of ineffable wisdom rolled from
his blubbery chops, Jakey Rolling came hurtling through
the front doors, yelling: ‘There’s been a murder in
week: Crumbs, more crims.