An Explosive Time (The Celtic Cousins' Adventures) by Julia Hughes Page A
Authors: Julia Hughes
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Chief couldn’t resist a little dig. With a chuckle he said ‘Whatever next? Maybe we should discuss legalising brothels.’ This brought one or two sniggers. When the hall quietened again a voice next to Crombie call out ‘Why not?’
The Assistant Chief Constable didn’t have to wait for his advisor to supply Ricky’s name.
‘That might be something you’d like to see in London Mr Chandri, or even visit, but I can assure you it was meant as a joke.’
A muted tittering rose from the front rows. Choosing his words carefully Crombie waited for the sniggering to subside. ‘And I can assure you Sir, DCI Chandri is happily married, and even if he were not, I doubt he would ever have to pay for anyone’s company.’
Ricky nodded encouragement, from in front Crombie heard murmurs of support.
‘However, it is the oldest profession in the world, and it would make everyone in this hall’s job easier, not to mention providing a safer environment for the majority of sex workers, who tend to be young vulnerable women.’
While the Assistant Chief Constable glared again, the advisor scribbled frantically, at her nudge, the Chief looked down at her notes, then smiled broadly in Crombie’s direction.
‘And how would you feel, DI Crombie if a careers’ advisor suggested that as a job to your daughter?’
This time Crombie didn’t have to think. ‘Sir, at the risk of pointing out the obvious, I don’t imagine too many careers’ advisors ever single out school children as road sweepers or traffic wardens come to that. Prostitution is not the chosen career of anyone, no matter what your assistant would have you believe.’
He stopped there, declining to dignify the Chief’s nasty personal attack with a response.
Apart from the rustling of paperwork and the nonagenarian clearing his throat, the hall fell silent once more. Seeing there was no help coming from the girl wonder beside him, eventually the Assistant Chief said:
‘Well, this is all very fascinating, and I appreciate the feedback, but there is a time and place for everything, unless we want to be here all night, I’m sure some of us have homes we want to get to, not to mention jobs to go back to tomorrow.’ He turned to the elderly man by his side. ‘Mr Rose do you have anything to add?’
Crombie turned to meet Ricky’s equally bewildered gaze. ‘Did he just threaten us?’ Ricky shrugged and grimaced.
‘He’s right. Keep stum. I wanna get out of here.’
Mr Rose couldn’t quite get the hang of the microphone, looking down to refer to his notes often with the result that the first part of his sentences were all Crombie ever caught. For all anyone knew, the old boy could have been proposing free drugs, sex and booze for the whole country. Whatever he had to say, the Assistant Chief Constable, his aide and the vastly overweight woman from Social Services heartedly agreed, nodding enthusiastically. Crombie guessed Mr Rose was someone very high up in the pecking order.
At last the droning stopped, after a pause there was a scattering of applause, and Crombie stretched feeling joints crackle. A subdued group filed out of the doors to the right and left of the rostrum; feeling eyes on him, Crombie kept his head down. It was way too late in his career to worry about making friends or enemies for that matter. Reaching the ground floor the conference crowd straggled towards the main exit, and Ricky caught Crombie up.
‘Mate, thanks for going into bat for me in there.’
Crombie continued shrugging his arms into his jacket, rotating his shoulders a couple of times until the jacket fell into its usual creases, like a second skin.
‘Walked into it really didn’t he?’
‘Buy you a drink?’
Sensing his hesitation Ricky said ‘Come on, I ain’t seen you in over two years, when’s the next time we’ll have a chance? Just the one - promise.’
As he spoke, Ricky pushed against one of the side doors and glad to escape the throng of
The Assistant Chief Constable didn’t have to wait for his advisor to supply Ricky’s name.
‘That might be something you’d like to see in London Mr Chandri, or even visit, but I can assure you it was meant as a joke.’
A muted tittering rose from the front rows. Choosing his words carefully Crombie waited for the sniggering to subside. ‘And I can assure you Sir, DCI Chandri is happily married, and even if he were not, I doubt he would ever have to pay for anyone’s company.’
Ricky nodded encouragement, from in front Crombie heard murmurs of support.
‘However, it is the oldest profession in the world, and it would make everyone in this hall’s job easier, not to mention providing a safer environment for the majority of sex workers, who tend to be young vulnerable women.’
While the Assistant Chief Constable glared again, the advisor scribbled frantically, at her nudge, the Chief looked down at her notes, then smiled broadly in Crombie’s direction.
‘And how would you feel, DI Crombie if a careers’ advisor suggested that as a job to your daughter?’
This time Crombie didn’t have to think. ‘Sir, at the risk of pointing out the obvious, I don’t imagine too many careers’ advisors ever single out school children as road sweepers or traffic wardens come to that. Prostitution is not the chosen career of anyone, no matter what your assistant would have you believe.’
He stopped there, declining to dignify the Chief’s nasty personal attack with a response.
Apart from the rustling of paperwork and the nonagenarian clearing his throat, the hall fell silent once more. Seeing there was no help coming from the girl wonder beside him, eventually the Assistant Chief said:
‘Well, this is all very fascinating, and I appreciate the feedback, but there is a time and place for everything, unless we want to be here all night, I’m sure some of us have homes we want to get to, not to mention jobs to go back to tomorrow.’ He turned to the elderly man by his side. ‘Mr Rose do you have anything to add?’
Crombie turned to meet Ricky’s equally bewildered gaze. ‘Did he just threaten us?’ Ricky shrugged and grimaced.
‘He’s right. Keep stum. I wanna get out of here.’
Mr Rose couldn’t quite get the hang of the microphone, looking down to refer to his notes often with the result that the first part of his sentences were all Crombie ever caught. For all anyone knew, the old boy could have been proposing free drugs, sex and booze for the whole country. Whatever he had to say, the Assistant Chief Constable, his aide and the vastly overweight woman from Social Services heartedly agreed, nodding enthusiastically. Crombie guessed Mr Rose was someone very high up in the pecking order.
At last the droning stopped, after a pause there was a scattering of applause, and Crombie stretched feeling joints crackle. A subdued group filed out of the doors to the right and left of the rostrum; feeling eyes on him, Crombie kept his head down. It was way too late in his career to worry about making friends or enemies for that matter. Reaching the ground floor the conference crowd straggled towards the main exit, and Ricky caught Crombie up.
‘Mate, thanks for going into bat for me in there.’
Crombie continued shrugging his arms into his jacket, rotating his shoulders a couple of times until the jacket fell into its usual creases, like a second skin.
‘Walked into it really didn’t he?’
‘Buy you a drink?’
Sensing his hesitation Ricky said ‘Come on, I ain’t seen you in over two years, when’s the next time we’ll have a chance? Just the one - promise.’
As he spoke, Ricky pushed against one of the side doors and glad to escape the throng of
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