The Recoverer (7).
by
Angharad.

Although my Devon cottage was in the countryside, I was a townie through and through. Steph was more adjusted to rural settings because her school was situated in the country about ten miles from the nearest town, so they had to make an awful effort to get to town or make do with the local village. She told me they had a couple of shops a general stores and a newsagent cum post office. They bought loads on line but I found that often hid the feeling of the cost because I hadn't handed over money or my bank card to shopkeeper or assistant. I mean I could spend lots online because it didn't feel like real money and admittedly buying on credit or on cards where you handle no money felt similar but not quite as uninvolved.

We were only a couple of miles from Okehampton so here it was very different. It's not a big town but had most of what we'd likely need and if not the internet would suffice, and probably cheaper, although some places charge heavy carriage fees. Lots of places didn't charge carriage if you spent more than so much, but unless you intended to buy the larger item, you didn't save and may even have spent more. I had no illusions that retailers were out to rob me whether in shops or online and I considered only I could stop them, besides, I haggled quite a lot and usually got something off. It embarrassed Stephanie, but I saw it all as one big game. But then she was living in a community of quite wealthy people, I wasn't. I moved amongst them only when I was working and they were either directly or indirectly paying my fees. If they lauded it over me, my fee went up. I could always find some previously forgotten add on and if they wanted me they paid it. I have said before that I was seen as very good at my job and usually they paid up.

Were out at a little cafe when were spotted by some neighbours, who farmed much of the land around my cottage and its large garden. "Hello Eve, Stephanie, did you see the police up at our place earlier on?"

"No, what happened?"

"I bought a new trailer, last year, for my tractor, a flat bed sort."

"So, what happened to it, did it fall apart or something?"

"No, it was going fine as it should for twenty grand, but some bastard has nicked it, last night and we didn't hear a thing, nor did that fat Labrador of mine, who slept through it too."

"From where did they nick it?"

"By the big barn, I was going to take a load of straw to market on Monday."

"Would you expect any noise, moving the trailer?"

"Nah, not much it's all new hardly been used a bit like Roger's combine, across the valley, just disappeared one night and nobody saw or heard anything and the combine is worth significantly more than my trailer."

"I suppose it is, by quite a margin," Pete nodded. "Is it insured?"

"Yeah but that's not the point, it's the inconvenience and letting others down - I'd promised lots of that straw to a pony club, now I'll have to find some other way to get to town or out to them. I feel such a Nellie and I've lost that money and had some awfully embarrassing inconvenience, as well."

"We'll find it for you, Mr Simpson," chirped Stephanie.

"That's better than the plod offered, they didn't think we'd ever see it again."

"It's not really my sort of thing, I don't know that many farmers and I know nothing about farm plant."

"Shouldn't that be farm stock?" asked Stephanie.

"I thought stock was something that has four legs and eats grass." I answered her as she ordered an all day breakfast for both of us.

Pete and I got into discussions, it seemed that his insurer often used me but not for this kind of thing. I agreed to give it a go if the insurer requested it. He phoned me next day to say the insurer was interested. I then had a call from them and we discussed it being outside my usual remit but I felt like I should do my best to help him especially as the plod were so negative about it.

"I don't know Steph, it's not my usual thing is it?"

"Well, look at it this way, it's a bit easier to find a twenty foot trailer than it is a single diamond and you do that easy enough."

"Ha, you don't see the work that goes on behind the scenes. It may look spectacular when I pull off a recovery, but that doesn't show the preparation needed. Like the police say, it's all about slogging and lots of spadework."

"Never see them digging anything," she shot back at me. "I mean how can they hide a twenty foot trailer?"

"In a couple of square miles of farm, quite easily." I smiled falsely at her.

"If the wind changes you'll stay like that," she quipped.

"I'll still be prettier than you," I said poking out my tongue for good measure, she fired back with a real teen girl pout, damn she was getting the hang of this girlie stuff.

We drove over to Pete's neighbour who had the combine taken, again no noise to alert the owners or their dog. Mind you dogs are dumb animals, in some cases, very dumb. Again, it was taken from a barn after being serviced for harvesting whatever crop they wanted, cereal or rapeseed, or flax. Apparently, flax seed has more Omega 3 oil than oil fish, weight for weight. Flax also has phyto-oestrogens I won't mention that to Steph, she's already scheming to stay with me again. If her father knew how she was living with me, he'd go absolutely nuts. She's been with me two weeks and hasn't worn men's clothes since day one and she seems so natural in the female role, it's going to depress her dreadfully when she goes back to school.

We drove around and she began to appreciate how like needles in haystacks, our task was. we got home and while cooking dinner, I began to plot where agriplant was held in highest amounts. After eating, I went online and decided places where they rent it out for harvest or other tasks, meant that farmers didn't have to buy it and they could hire an operator as well.

I listed all of those plant hire places within twenty miles, anything further may kindle police interest, unless it was on the back of a named trailer or being towed by one of their vehicles. Pete had marked his trailer, underneath he'd put his name and post code. Suitably addressed in jeans and sweat shirts we set off the next day with the list of these agri-hire places.

The manager of the site was reluctant to let us wander in case we got run over. I told him we were insured as we were working for an insurance company. When I said we were looking for stolen plant, he got quite shirty and it took me a while to calm him down, well, Steph did actually, she told him we knew we wouldn't find anything amongst his stock but if we mentioned to other places that he let us examine his vehicles, they should too. Stephanie stroked his ego beautifully and I set to examining combines and flatbeds. I saw Pete's trailer but said nothing not wishing to give the game away until he was ready to collect it in a police presence. Probably it was bought in good faith, except thieves don't have any.

We checked the next two on our list before I found a combine with the scrapes on it that Pete's neighbour had shown me on a photo. I photographed them with my phone and sent him a copy, he came back to me in minutes saying that was his combine. I told him to wait but to tell the police we knew where it was.

We got home quite tired, it's hard work. The next day we went to the police HQ and spoke to the senior detective about thefts of agricultural plant. It was a growing problem in the area. We told him we had found two pieces of plant at separate rental sites but felt they had bought them without knowing they were stolen. I suggested they should set up a database and share details of stolen plant, Steph said she could show them what to do and that this should be shared with the rental sites and local farmers. The police suggested marking them with special paint that only shows under UV light, to identify them easily but impossible to see with the naked eye.

The police and the two farmers were delighted to get their property back and we left them to sort out the paperwork with the rental people so they could take it back home. I spent the next day telling the two farmers what security they needed especially with cameras and alarms to prevent it happening again and also reducing their insurance costs.

The next day we awoke to discovering my Jaguar was missing. It's over £80,000 worth of delight, it goes like a dream, has more style than a Porsche (because there's fewer of them)and it was mine. So it was insured to the last nut and bolt but I was fuming. I reported it to the police and got an incident number, the copper on the phone telling me that they didn't get many of those, I already knew that.

I hired a nice Audi while we sought out the Jag. I went to the places where the agri-plant had been found and tried to get a description of the person who'd sold it to them. When I told them they had like stolen my Jaguar, they gave a little smirk as I had caused them a little problem. One place gave me a photo of the thief. I took it to Exeter police and showed them, we ran it through the system and got a name, Brad Norman. His address was in Bristol, so we went to see him or try to. He claimed not to have any knowledge of my car and told us he was a reputable dealer, I nearly laughed in his face. I wanted to hit him but I was trying to show Stephanie how to behave as a lady, she showed me most of the time.

We went around all the Jaguar or elite car dealers, one was very helpful and circulated several of his friends in the trade, details of my car. He got a reply saying they'd been offered it. We were there half an hour later, showed him the photo of Norman, who he recognised but said he'd not bought it.

Back to Norman's in Bristol, he was out. So we bought sandwiches and bottles of water and settled down to wait for his return. He came back at six and we let him start to get his tea and then disturbed him. I asked him where my car was because he had been recognised trying to sell it. He told very discourteously to leave his property and not come back. I told him I wasn't leaving without my car or it's whereabouts and if that resulted in breaking several of his bones, so be it. He laughed but Stephanie saying, "I'd listen to her if I were you," and laughed again and tried to push me out the door. It was him who left by the door or through it as I hip threw him using his momentum. He was shaken up but came back at me and I threw him into his entrance hall wall. He staggered to his telephone table and pulled open the drawer, suspecting he had a gun or knife there, I jumped over and slammed the drawer on his wrist. He offered a punch and I caught it and pulled him into a hammerlock dislocating his shoulder, it was quite deliberate - it's rather painful and asking where my car was jerked his shoulder, after quarter of an hour he told me.

"I'm gonna phone the plod about you." He shouted and I raised my hand to brush my hair and he visibly finched.

"I wouldn't bother," I answered him, "my niece has it all on her phone and shows you started it, besides while I'm collecting my car they'll be coming to collect you. If there's a mark on my car, I'll be coming back for you too."

"Huh, don't think I'm scared of some tart like you."

"I punched him on his bad shoulder and he fell down screaming," I threatened him again and he yelled his submission.

In an hour we had my car back, it was in a garage covered in tarps to keep the dust off. I had a spare key so I drove it to the police station leaving the garage door hanging off its hinges. If thieves got in there before it was closed up again, too bad.

I got consent to take my car and phoned the hire company to collect their Audi before we drove back to my cottage. we left the police with a copy of Norman's attempt to bully me and a shortened form of me beating seven shades out of him. The police were actually laughing at it, I suggested he should never show his face in Devon again or we may run him over with a combine. The copper shook his head but we knew that rats like Norman were career criminals and apart from the pain of having his shoulder reset, he just go elsewhere. "Tell him wherever he goes, I'll find him and I won't be so gentle next time."

"Oh, he's going down for a few years this time, we found a gun in his telephone table drawer, the one you smashed on his wrist, It has history of being used, so he could be going away for a long time. Couldn't happen to a nicer bloke."

Steph and I agreed and we still had a week to get her back to Steve before her dad saw her, she was rather unhappy.