BLACK INK SOCIETY {Sci-Fi Thriller} #Wattys2016

Part 8,2: Better Times of Law Enforcement

Stoke Newington Police Station - London, Hackney

"Officer Moores, correct?"

"That's right, sir." The officer looked nervous, being confronted with a suit-wearing government emissary like him. The man in the suit knew that the annual inspection was an event often avoided by this specific department of the Metropolitan Police, and if he wanted to, he could certainly find more than one violation against official instructions. But then again, why not use this to his advantage? An ace in his sleeve?

"You filed charges of vandalism, fraud and obstruction of justice against two individuals fourteen days ago, is that correct?" He adjusted his tie once more. It was perfectly straight, twiddling with it had become almost some kind of neurosis. He had to stop doing that.

"Yes, sir."

"Do you remember any further detail? Your report left some aspects of the incident unmentioned; would it be possible to describe the events of that evening more precisely? "

Moores stared up to the ceiling, as if recalling a very vivid memory, then dropped his eyes. Embarrassment? Probably. But as he lifted his head, there was anger written over his piggy face.

"I was interrogating one of the two. That little Arab prick. Just arrested  for vandalism. Can you believe it? The bastard walks right up to the station, grins into the gatekeeper's face and then goes ahead and starts daubing all the windows with graffiti! One by one, like he couldn't be bothered, and the arsehole didn't even have a staying permit. Fucking parasites. To tell the truth, I would have kicked him into deportation custody myself. But that new officer, Cizek... He wouldn't stop moaning about letting the little bastard make his call." He clicked his tongue. "These chavs only play you for a sucker if you go easy on them. They gotta learn the hard way."

"You do realize that denying a suspect their right to a lawyer..."

"Yeah, yeah." Officer Moores' grovelling behaviour gave way to an arrogant undertone. "Right."

The man in the suit cleared his throat. When it came to malfeasance, he could draw from plentiful resources, as it seemed. The Officer was only digging his hole deeper. "You pressed charges against two individuals, the vandalism offender being one of them. Who was the other?"

Moores snorted.

"His duty defender. Seemed alright, she had proper identification and all. But as soon as I left the two to themselves - they walked out. Just walked out. Do you have any idea how much tax money these windows cost you?"

Moores didn't seem to be the brightest of bulbs, but the man in the suit didn't mind; it only made his job easier. He frowned. "How is that possible? I trust that the room was locked and all instructions were followed?"

"Yeah. They were." Officer Moores hesitated. "How come the Ministry is interested in the case anyway?"

"Just answer the questions. Why did nobody notice the suspects were escaping? You hardly could have been the only officer on duty."

Moores dropped his eyes again. "There have been some... budget cuts."

"Budget cuts?"

"Yeah. Budget cuts. Do you really think the government wants to waste any more money trying to proselytise drug lords and gang members? You arrest one of them, they call their extended families and then you have twenty of their cousins kicking in your front door. We'd rather use our resources to keep them out of the better areas"

The man in the suit furrowed his brows. His eyes fell upon the stained, crumbling walls and the dirty carpet. Law enforcement in Hackney had seen better times, and individuals like Moores were undoubtedly the main reason for this.

"Come on, stop pretending." Moores continued, "You guys from the ministry were the ones who made the plans in the first place."

"So you were the only officer present at the time."

"Yeah. On this floor at least."

"You had the offender in custody; your colleague, Officer Cizek, left the room. Then you let in the assigned duty solicitor, whereupon the suspects escaped. Is that correct so far?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure there is nothing else you should be telling me?"

There was a spark of insecurity in Moores' expression. He seemed nervous."Yes. Nothing else." Was he hiding something? He was definitely hiding something. Maybe the policeman was smarter than he appeared.

"Did the lawyer tell you her name?"

"Adler. Irene Adler."