Abacus by Josh Burton Page B

truck. An increase in female officers meant that there was the odd rare occasion when two female officers were rostered on the truck together. During the shift, Leanne and her more inexperienced partner drove upon two offenders in the process of stealing a car from under the local R.S.L Club. The two female officers found themselves in a struggle with one of the thieves as the other fled. Unbeknownst to them, the heavily set man they were fighting had just been released from jail after a long stint for armed robbery offences. During the struggle the thief repeatedly punched Leanne to the face as she stubbornly held on waiting for backup to arrive. Other police soon arrived to find Leanne holding on with blood streaming from her nose and mouth. The offender she was fighting was arrested and the other rounded up soon after.
    With a heavily swollen and broken jaw , Leanne got to her feet and walked over to handcuffed prisoner. “Please don’t tell me that is the best you’ve got, you couldn’t even shake a little chick like me.” The prisoner was a forlorn figure as he was dragged to his feet and led to the police van. At the van’s rear entry the prisoner’s head repeatedly came into contact with the door frame, helped by a firm grasp from a thickset vengeful officer. “Oh, do watch your head,” she yelled sarcastically while being treated for her injuries. For her dedication and commitment Leanne was rewarded in the coming weeks with a permanent position in the detectives’ office. A posting that Randall had initiated and endorsed.
    At the other end of the tab le was Detective Gary James or Jesse, as in Jesse James. He could talk the leg off a chair, had the gift of the gab and loved life. He was one of the older guys in the office, being about forty-six years old. He had a dark mullet-styled haircut, stood about six feet two tall with a medium build. Jesse was the self-appointed social co-ordinator for the office and also a paranoid germ-a-phobic. Jesse was on a never-ending crusade to rid the world of germs with his endless supply of hand wipes, gels and antiseptic foams. Watching Jesse use a public toilet was a sight. He turned on taps with his elbows, and when it was time to leave he would use a hand towel to grasp the door handle or would patiently wait for someone to enter so he could squeeze past them without touching the door handle. Phobias aside, Jesse brought a lot of experience to the office in the area of narcotics. When Randall was on leave or away, he called upon Jesse to fill his shoes as the acting Chief of Detectives.
    “Afternoon , Meg,” Jesse called to the waitress as she approached with her pad, pen and the newspaper.
    “Is it Tuesday already? Jeez, where did the week go,” she said with a big smile.
    “Usually when you are really looking forward to something the days go slowly,” Randall said cheekily.
    “And who says that I look forward to seeing you, Mr . Big Shot Detective,” she joked, carefully spreading the newspaper out in front of him.
    “Thanks , Meg,” Randall mumbled, immediately drawn to his reading ritual. Immersing himself in the paper, Randall had the capability to also listen in on the conversations around him and could even contribute when required.
    “Meg, he always seems to get the preferential treatment from you, and I suppose I understand. The sarge is quite a handsome man… for his age,” Hobbs said.
    Randall peeked over the top of the paper. “Why, big fella, I’m chuffed. I didn’t know you felt that way,” he said, flicking through the pages.
    “Why , Bob and I are just good mates, aren’t we?” Meg beamed.
    Randall looked over the paper. “Meg, they are only young. They wouldn’t understand that you and I are deeply connected on a truly spiritual level.” Randall licked his fingers to turn the next page.
    “Well , I’d better keep moving, there are coffees to make,” she said, taking the last of the orders before heading to the kitchen.
    Once