Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1195.

The Daily Dormouse.
(aka Bike)
Part 1195
by Angharad

Copyright © 2010 Angharad
All Rights Reserved.
  
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The week went by very quickly, in between taking the girls to school, feeding the baby and visiting Jim or being visited by the police myself, I seemed always busy.

The police weren’t entirely happy with my story but the only bit of video they had of it tended to agree with what I’d told them. Amazingly, Jim wasn’t in the video at all so they weren’t asking him about carrying a hand size field gun in his pocket. If he had been seen, they’d have arrested him for possession of a handgun, which are illegal in the UK — especially one designed to shoot Sarah Palin or was that a Moose–either way, they’re both large stupid creatures: one being a giant deer the other being a contestant on reality TV–are ’Mericans really dumb enough to let her run for the presidency–don’t answer that.

“Which bank did you go into?” asked the police.

“A branch of High Street, my father in law owns them, my husband works for them–I sent him a message, through their internal system.”

“Why couldn’t you phone?”

“I tried, he wasn’t answering, nor was his secretary.”

“What about email?”

“I did that as well, from my Blackberry.”

“Do you always try this hard to communicate with him?”

“Depends upon the message, I don’t go to London very often and I have a young family.”

“Given you’re transsexual, how did you manage that?” The detective from Scotland Yard had done some homework.

“I find that remark offensive,” said my lawyer.

“No, that’s okay, I’ll answer it. I fostered several children whom we have since adopted, the youngest being a few months old and I’m still breast feeding.” I emphasised the last part. The copper’s eyes nearly popped out as he got his brain round it.

“So was your husband gonna breast feed it for you?” responded the copper.

I could see Andrea Bright’s leg twitching. “That’s the second offensive remark, one more and we withdraw our assistance.”

“Fine, I’ll arrest her.”

“Fine, we’ll take you to court for wrongful arrest–it would be a pity to increase the level of unemployed but I’ll make an exception for you.”

“Are you threatening me, lady?”

“No, I’m pointing out the consequences of your actions, which are at best offensive if not transphobic. Lady Cameron is here of her own volition and is answering your questions reasonably, I expect some courtesy from you in reciprocation for hers.”

“I wanna know why it was so important she talk to her husband, ‘specially when she’s got a bloody nanny at home–don’t she do anythin’?”

“Jenny is a very good nanny and I’d already spoken to her. You must understand that having five children under seven is very hard work even for a professional nanny.”

“So why didn’t you just go home?”

“I take it you don’t have any children, detective inspector?”

“No–I ain’t married.”

“Ah, I’d heard that some gay men don’t like transsexuals.” Two can play at insults.

“I’m not gay–that’s bloody good coming from you–I suppose you had your dick cut off so you wouldn’t seem such a fairy?”

“That does it. This interview is over, I’m taking my client away.”

“If you do I’ll arrest him.”

Andrea went ballistic, “What sort of arsehole are you, apart from being so full of shit you smell. My client is female, legally and in all other respects, you have an obligation to respect her as such.”

“Do I, is that just because she can afford big shot barristers like you?”

“No, because it’s the law, dummy. I have recorded this interview, I shall be sending a copy to your superiors as well as the Police Complaints Authority. I hope you enjoy being back on the beat.”

Andrea took my arm and we walked out of the police station, once we got clear I asked her, “Do you really think they’d arrest me?”

“Only if they’re stupid.”

“Did you really record the interview?”

“Oh yes, I don’t believe anyone these days unless I can prove it. He was just a typical dickhead who though he was big shot because he can bully people.”

“The police have beaten me up before.”

“Have they now? When was that?”

“Oh a while ago, back in Portsmouth.”

“Not this lot then?”

“No.”

“Pity, we could have made more of it. I find it all so disgraceful–you’re female, your birth certificate says so. Okay, you can’t have children, but then neither can my sister and she’s spent a fortune on IVF treatment, they’re opting for a surrogate pregnancy now.”

“I’m sorry, it must be awful for her.”

“But you know how she feels?”

“No, I can’t say that can I? I can empathise with her, but that’s all.”

“Spoken like a real woman. Look I have to be in court in an hour, if you get any more problems with them, let me know immediately and I’ll come and spring you.”

“Thank you, Andrea, you’re very kind.”

“Simon is an old friend, but kind I’m not–he’ll be getting a suitably large account for this morning.”

“I’m going to see Jim, they should be letting him home soon.”

“Oh your partner in crime?”

“Yes, he’s the only reason I’m not lying in a mortuary somewhere riddled with bullets.”

“Yes, I saw your statement–horrifying that gangsters can get their hands on machine guns. However, I suspect that he wasn’t unarmed himself.”

“I didn’t see a gun.”

“No of course not.”

“I’m not lying, I didn’t see one.”

That doesn’t mean he didn’t have one or that you knew about it–knowledge before or after the fact. The car was riddled with bullet holes too and the occupants had been shot before being toasted.”

“I think there must have been some sort of gang war going on, bullets were zinging everywhere.”

“And you just happened upon it?”

“Not quite, we’d managed to have arrested quite a few of the gang, the big cheese was after us which we knew from the attempt on the way up.”

“Why were they after you and Julie before?”

“I didn’t stop to ask them, they didn’t look much like good conversationalists.”

“You can tell me, I am your barrister.”

“I don’t know,” I lied, the fewer people who knew about the keys the better, however, I needed to know what to do with the five million in my deposit box. I needed to speak with Jim. We parted, her off to court, me to Charring Cross Hospital.

It’s a huge general hospital on Fulham Palace Road, I was very glad I hadn’t had to go there for my treatment, but I did see one of the gender patients, at least I thought it was one, a female to male–short, broad hipped and lots of straggly facial hair, small hands and feet. They got out of the lift a floor before mine so I was left to contemplate what I’d say to Jim about things and the police being unpleasant.

I walked into the ward and asked if I could go and see him–it wasn’t officially visiting time. “He’s not here, he was discharged this morning.”

“Oh, he didn’t let me know.” As the nurse was making apologetic noises my phone peeped with a text.

“Maybe that’s him now, he wasn’t expecting you until visiting time.”

“Perhaps.” I dug in my bag and pulled out my phone.

‘We hve UR li’l frend, U hve our munny. Will be in touch.’

I felt my whole body begin to tremble–it wasn’t over.

“Are you alright, my dear, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost?” I heard from some distance away as I slumped to the floor still clutching my Blackberry.

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