The Cop Killer by Harry Nankin

local history departing the same to the unfortunate victim on the receiving end of the impartation of the useless information.
     Those that were in received a brief kiss on one or other cheek as she passed with coffee pot or tray in hand.
    The ladies were of the type whose husbands had found success in business, they had made it in the city and with their newfound wealth had moved house from such common places in the metropolis with its long rows of never ending terraced houses.
     They now relocated to this rural pleasant land providing of course the remaining local non-yuppies such as farmers did not make those ghastly smells.
    The other irritants were those who served them, they lived in the nearby council houses they were fine. If, they kept their place.
     The yuppie men folk having moved to this pleasant rural area of Cheshire now joined the massive daily traffic queues at walking pace to and from the cities of Manchester or Chester commuting each morning and evening.
    Their wives meanwhile entertained themselves taking out the sports car, a Porsche of course; sporting some form of personalised number plates, those that had made it to the top had a simple one such as ME 1.
     “Others, who had not quite made it, had a make believe one such as their initials WTW M15 amended to read WTW MI 5, believing it would be confused as a James Bond throw away car. 
    Without exception they all appeared to be well educated and thus by tradition their children were now despatched to private schools.
    Old Madge the cleaner and old Bill the gardener arrived daily in the village and once at the yuppie dwellings carried out the donkeywork so the ladies of the houses were at complete liberty.
     They met with diaries in hand consuming daily coffee and arranging various meetings and functions which required them to take up a table or tables from two to three hours, the contents of the one-cup, long since devoured.
    Due to they being ladies of importance Mrs Delwright did not seem to mind how much time they took up for such little money spent. On the other hand any unfortunate tourists, who arrived, were soon visited to be asked if they required anything further and if not had their plates cleared immediately, with a quick nudge, nudge, wink, wink, this business is run with bums on seats.
    As Jackson and Anne Richards took their seats, they noticed the displays around the walls.
    There were paintings, which to the uneducated appeared to have been done by the children in the midst of daily battle in the paint-throwing contest of year one at the local primary school.
     Splodges of paint battered onto thick white wood, depicting some form of figures of which only the children in year one and possibly the yuppies of Cheshire could decipher.
    The cost however dispelled the viewer’s initial opinion, for they were priced from £50 upwards.
    There were some with sackcloth as a background and upon which were nails with coloured thread wrapped around them all secretly coded as art, modern of course.
    “What you would like please?”
    Enquired the blonde young lady, tall with a high forehead and square face seemingly from her features and broken English she was of East European origin more than likely working for and being suffered for a pittance.
    “Ah, two cups of tea please,” replied Jack
    “You like tea, but it is morning. No you want coffee now and tea later?”
    “No thank you” replied Anne, “tea, two cups thank you?”
    “Oh you no want something to eat as well,” said Girda, an East European, according to her name badge at least.
    “Just tea” replied Jack the Hat.
    The lady turned and left, on arrival at the counter she spoke to her boss apologising “They say only they want tea no coffee, no food I sorry”
    The ladies at both tables had been staring in silence then with heads downs became huddled over the centre of their tables.
    The new comers downed the luke warm tea in the due time allocated, it appeared to have been