Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 948.

Wuthering Dormice
(aka Bike)
Part 948
by Angharad

Copyright © 2010 Angharad
All Rights Reserved.
  
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The next day after my run-in with the muggers, I was black and blue across parts of my back and bum. I also had a nice bruise on my shoulder. After breakfast, as I was clearing up, I had a visit from another plod–an Inspector Moss. Of course I kept wanting to call him Inspector Morse from the TV series, even though he was nothing like John Thaw, this chap was only in his thirties, tall, dark and handsome.

We ran through my statement once again, and he asked me a few questions. “You realise the two boys are going to try and charge you with assault?”

“What? They attacked me.”

“Which the film clearly shows. They argue that your response was overly violent.”

“I beg your pardon, one of them pulled a knife and threatened to stab me with it.”

“I know, but you know what these kids are like–it’s alright for them to beat up anyone, but they don’t like a taste of their own medicine.”

“I’m covered in bruises where they pushed me into the wall.”

“Could you get your doctor to verify that, preferably with photos.”

“I’m sorry, but no one gets to see piccies of my bum.”

“If there’s bruising there, it’s a good idea to do a photo. If they managed to get you to court–photos are a great advantage over written statements.”

“Despite the video evidence, these two little toads are going to try for damages against me?”

“Could be, I’m trying to dissuade them–as I think it’s wasting police and the court’s time.”

“Couldn’t you just hang ’em?” I asked, trying to save the courts money and time–I’d even pay for the rope.

“No, they won’t allow it, even with prima facie evidence against them.”

“What are you charging them with?”

“At the moment, assault with intent to rob.”

“What about the knife–doesn’t that constitute attempted armed robbery.”

“It could do–whatever we charge them with, they’ll be out in a few months and doing it again.”

“Not to me they won’t.”

“I doubt even they would be stupid enough to try that, where did you learn to kick box?”

“My sister in law taught me the rudiments, I read up on it and developed my own techniques.”

“The final one that put down the second kid, looked more karate than kick boxing.”

“Did it? I improvised, but it worked.”

“It did indeed, thanks for the coffee, is there anything else you can think of that happened you haven’t mentioned?”

“Only my kids throwing their shoes at the knife wielding one to distract him–it helped too.”

“Yes, that was quick thinking of them.”

“They’re a bright lot.”

“They obviously take after their mother.”

“I’m only their foster mother.”

“Hmm–we’ll keep that quiet in case they try to queer your status with the authorities.”

“How can they do that?”

“You’d be surprised what these lawyers manage to get them off with. One of my young PCs used a dustbin lid like a giant Frisbee to stop a suspect running away. He was charged with assault with a weapon.”

“What was the charge against the escapee?”

“Oh, rape and aggravated assault.”

“So these little scumbags can dish it out but cry for mummy when they meet some resistance?”

“Very much so, I’m afraid, but they have some very clever lawyers getting them off all but the most trivial charges.”

“If they get off, I’ll instruct my lawyers to initiate private prosecutions for damages for assault and attempted murder.”

“Attempted murder? That’s a bit much isn’t it?”

“You didn’t hear what he said to me when he waved the knife in front of me.”

“That’s true, I didn’t, I’ll have a word with the CPS and see if they’d like to up the ante a little.”

“From what I’ve heard, there’s more chance of the Crown Prosecution Service going for a conviction against me for littering because I dropped my shopping when they pushed me.”

“They’re not that bad, but they do like to go for maximum chance of a prosecution.”

“Isn’t a video, good enough evidence–plus your men arrested them at the scene. What more do they want–signed confessions? If so let me know, I’ll come down and see that they sign for you.”

“That sounds like coercion of witnesses.”

“No, I’d ask them nicely and my natural charm and beauty would see to the rest.” I smiled, then winced as I stood up.

“Go and see the doctor and get some pictures for us.”

“Pictures, my arse.”

“Yes–that as well.”

He left and I went back to clearing the kitchen.

“What did the plod want, Mummy?” Julie asked, coming into the kitchen.

“Oh it was about yesterday–seems the kids who attacked me are trying it on.”

“Trying what on?” she looked quite concerned.

“Prosecuting me for assault.”

“They have got to be joking–that one clown had a knife and was going to stick you with it–he wasn’t going to sharpen his crayons with it, was he?”

“I doubt it, he didn’t look clever enough to own a colouring book, did he?”

We both laughed then Julie said, “They’re not serious are they?”

“I have no idea; what’s interesting is that the Cameron name might serve us insofar as a lawyer might decide we’re too big to fight, or he might decide there’s money to be had.”

“What, ‘cos Daddy’s rich?”

“And your mummy’s good looking, but hush little baby , doooon’t you cry.”

“Eh?” Julie looked blankly at me.

“Summertime from Porgy and Bess.”

“What?”

“Gershwin’s opera, Porgy and Bess.”

“Porky and Bess?” she incorrectly repeated.

“No PORGY and Bess.”

“Yeah, so?” she shrugged.

I shook my head, “Philistine,” I retorted.

“Weren’t they in the Bible, or is there somewhere in America, called Philis?”

“It was the Biblical context I was alluding to.”

“For someone who doesn’t believe in God, you sure know a lot about the Bible an’ things.”

“It was hammered into me when I was in school.”

“We didn’t do much at all–bit of all faiths, and know bugger all about any of them.”

“Language, Julie–you know that Trish and Livvie copy you.”

“Who do I copy?” asked Trish strolling into the kitchen.

“Guidness, ta’k o’ th’ De’il, as Gramps would say.”

“What would Gramps say?” Trish shot back at me.

“Wee piggies hae muckle lugs,” I responded and Julie creased up with laughter.

“You’re a horrible, Mummy.” Trish frowned and stalked out of the kitchen, followed by Julie’s and my laughter.

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