Roberta Galbraith - Rookie Days
“Hello?” said Roberta slightly nervously as she stood at the reception desk of Colindale Police Station.
This was her first day ‘on the job’ since she’d graduated from the Hendon Police College two weeks before.
“Can I help you?” asked the civilian receptionist.
“I’m PC Roberta Galbraith. I’ve been assigned to this station. I understand that Inspector Youngman is expecting me.”
The civilian receptionist smiled and picked up the phone. After a brief conversation, she hung up the call.
“The Inspector will be right down.”
“Thanks,” said Roberta.
Just then a uniformed officer hurried into the station.
“Is that your rust bucket of a Fiesta that is parked in my space?”
His words startled Roberta.
“I… I’m sorry but the man on the gate said to park in any space that was not labelled.”
The officer was pretty red in the face.
“That’s my spot. It is reserved for the senior uniformed sergeant and that’s me!”
“I’m sorry. I’ll go and move it.”
He didn’t bother to step aside to let Roberta out of the door.
“Excuse me?” she said quietly.
Reluctantly, he moved out of the way.
“Welcome to Colindale, Constable,” said Inspector Derek Youngman.
“Thanks sir. It is good to be ‘on the job’ after all that training.”
“We are glad to see someone with your background. It isn’t often that we get someone with your qualifications here. Most of the time any Hendon graduates with similar backgrounds to yours usually get snapped up by places like West End Central or City of London Police.”
Roberta resisted smiling.
“It was made very clear to all of us cadets at the start of the course that it was only those in the top ten of the class who would get the chance of those assignments.”
This time, the Inspector smiled.
“I might be guessing but from your record at Hendon, you didn’t want any of them?”
“Sir? I could not possibly comment. If I said yes then that could go into my record as a negative point. I know that I’ll could treated as a poor little rich girl who failed to land a more glamorous posting but this is the sort of place that I want to be. I’m not someone who is after a rapid promotion. I just want to learn my craft as a Police Officer and do the best job that I can do out of the spotlight. Much like learning to walk before trying to run. I know from talking to some of the senior officers who came to lecture at Hendon that they hate the prima-donna’s that almost every class has in abundance. I’m not… or at least I hope I’m not one of them.”
“That’s’ good to know. I’m assigning you to work under Sergeant David Green for your probationary period. With your background, you probably know more about the criminal mind than any of my officers including those in CID but please… try to dial the ‘keenness’ level that back a bit. Please try helpful when asked, but don’t try to tell the more experienced officers their jobs unless you find them actually breaking our operational rules or even worse, the law.”
“I understand perfectly sir. I will take those words to heart.”
“Good. Now let me take you to Sergeant Green.”
The Inspector stood up and headed for the door to his office. As he opened the door, he stopped and said,
“My door is always open should you need me.”
Roberta smiled and nodded her head. She knew that his words actually meant, 'I don't want to see you again unless you are in physical danger from one of my officers', or words to that effect.
Roberta took an instant dislike to Sergeant David Green. The way that he undressed her with his eyes told her nearly everything that she needed to know about him. The mark of a recently removed wedding ring said the rest.
“Sarge, this is PC Roberta Galbraith. I spoke to you about her last week.”
Sergeant Green was also the officer who had his nose put out of joint when she’d parked in his spot.
“Yes Sir!” said the Sergeant who tried hard to not let his anger show in front of the inspector.
“I’m to nursemaid her until she is deemed ready to be let loose on the unsuspecting members of the public.”
Roberta groaned internally.
“Something like that,” said the Inspector who was clearly embarrassed by the Sergeant’s words.
The inspector managed a smile as he said,
“Just take good care of Constable Galbraith.”
Then he was gone…
“Constable, I like my tea with lots of milk and two sugars.”
Roberta’s misgivings about her new boss were fast becoming true.
“I’m sorry Sarge, I don’t make tea or coffee for anyone. I never have and never will. I have apologised for accidentally parking in your spot but if you are going to be a right pain in the arse towards me then you will find that I don’t take crap from anyone even if they are my training officer.”
“Why you….”
“Write me up all you like, I’m not your gofer. I’m here to learn policing and making tea might have been ok for a WPC in the 1960’s but not in the 2010’s. The address that the Assistant Commissioner gave at my passing out ceremony told us not to be afraid to question our superiors when we are being asked to do something wrong. She went on to say that that advice included making the tea. I intend to hold her to that guidance.”
The Sergeant was by now, very red in the face so Roberta added,
“If I am going to get some tea and I ask you if you want some then that is a different matter just like if you want some and you ask me if I want some tea.”
“Why….”
He shuffled around for a few seconds. His red face told her that he was not used to being talked to like that.
After about twenty seconds of fuming at Roberta, he recovered some composure.
“See that pile of files on the desk over there?”
Roberta turned in the direction he was pointing.
“That’s your desk for the time being. I suggest that you file those documents before sitting down.”
She knew what he was hinting at.
‘Be seen to be doing something and not making waves or as her great grandmother used to say, ‘be seen and not heard’’.
The Sergeant had made it clear that on the showing of her first day, her time in the Police was going to be short and if he had any say in the matter, it would be very short indeed. She was thankful for a heads-up about him that she'd received from one of the instructors at Hendon who had been subject to his temper as a constable.
A few minutes later, Sergeant Green was called away to another part of the station. Less than 10 seconds after the office door closed, the four constables who had witnessed the exchange between the Sergeant and Roberta broke out in spontaneous applause.
Their act of kindness made Roberta feel rather embarrassed.
“Roberta? I’m PC Joanne Swain. I was the last rookie to come to the station so I know exactly what the Sarge tried to get you to do. If you had said yes and made his tea then that would be just about all you would do for the rest of your probation period.”
“Pleased to meet you but there was no need for the applause.”
“There is. You just did what the rest of us didn’t dare to do. Sarge is as they say in my home town, ‘All Mouth and no trousers’. You told him to his face to get stuffed. Once word of what you just did gets around the station, you won’t have to buy a drink for months.”
This was just what Roberta didn’t want to happen.
“Please, don’t spread what just happened around. I just want to keep my head down and learn the ropes of being a good copper. I don’t want a reputation for being an awkward bitch to precede me for the rest of my career.”
“That’s an admirable aim but those two,” said Joanne who looked at the other two officers in the office,
“Are not known for keeping their mouths shut.”
Roberta later found out that Sergeant Green had told the Inspector about the incident over making him the tea. From what she was told, the Inspector laughed and told the Sergeant to grow up and get with the image that the Police were trying to present in the second decade of the 21st Century.
The very next day, a notice from the Inspector and the Chief Superintendent was put up on the Station notice board. It reiterated the policy of the force that neither racism nor sexism was not going to be tolerated in the Metropolitan Police and that the days of women officers just being filing clerks and making tea were long gone. The notice had to be replaced several times after someone kept removing it. Only once one of the internal CCTV cameras was moved to cover the notice board did the notice remain in place.
The constant removal or defacing of the notice told all the female officers that there were still some chauvinist pigs in the station with Sergeant Green at the head of the list.
The dressing down that the Sergeant received at the hands of the Inspector did little to improve their relationship. Roberta was given all the shittiest jobs that came available. Roberta, to her credit did them without complaint or argument. The Sergeant saw that as an act of defiance and consequently made him even more determined to take her down and get her to quit the force.
His hatred for Roberta had to be put on hold when a team of officers from the Drug Squad arrived at the station. Word soon went around that an operation to take down a local drug dealer and his operation was underway. An ‘all hands’ briefing was scheduled for the following morning. Roberta was looking forward to seeing some action but her hopes were dashed when Sergeant Green said firmly,
“Your job is to man the phones. If you are needed on this operation, I will brief you but at the present time, I don’t think that you will be needed.”
He was sure that he’d put Roberta firmly in her place and she was left alone in the office. It was strangely quiet and for a while, she felt a bit lost. The normal sounds of a busy station were missing. With a sigh, she got on with her current task of collating nuisance calls to elderly people in the local area.
“Constable Galbraith,” said a voice from the office door.
She looked up and was surprised to see Inspector Youngman looking at her.
“Sir?”
“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in the briefing?”
“Sir, Sergeant Green specifically said that I was attend to the phones and that he would brief me if I was needed.”
“You are needed so drop whatever you are doing and get into the briefing. I will deal with the Sergeant after the briefing.”
“Yes Sir,” said Roberta who managed to suppress a smile.
“Galbraith!” said Sergeant David Green.
"As much as I dislike it, I’ve been ordered to nursemaid you. That means you are with me and you will do what I say and when. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Sarge.”
“Good. On this operation, you are to look after the grandmother. Do whatever it takes to make the old dear not scream the house down, ok! I understand that she is in the front room of the house."
She groaned internally. Another job for the rookie woman in the station.
Sergeant Green called her into the crime scene after three young men had been led away in handcuffs and pointed at the downstairs front room. One glance told her that was where the grandmother slept. It also smelt of stale urine and cold curry. Roberta had mucked out many stables and pig-styes in her childhood and was determined not to let that smell get to her.
The drawn curtains let in very little light. Roberta saw through the gloom, what appeared to be a small grey-haired woman huddled in a corner mostly covered by a blanket. She knelt and touched her hand. It was stone cold. Just to be sure, she checked for a pulse. Nothing. Then she noticed the smell coming from her body. That told Roberta that she'd probably been dead for more than three days. The odour of a body that was starting to decay was one that she'd never forget.
Roberta said quietly,
“May your god be pleased with your life and that you will have a new and brighter one in the future.”
Sergeant Green saw her leave the front room and shouted, "What the F are you doing here? I told you to look after the old woman? Can't you do even that simple thing?"
“Sarge, she is beyond help and has been for several days.”
The Sarge glared at Roberta and roughly pushed her to one side as he headed for the front room. The inevitable string of curses that came next, was aimed squarely at her. It was as if Roberta had been responsible for the death of the old lady.
Roberta tuned his ranting out and made a call to the duty doctor and coroner. Her first duty of care was to see that the deceased woman was treated with some honour and dignity. The smell of her body had brought back memories of finding her mother, who had died of cancer only a few years before. She'd managed then, and she would manage now despite the best attempts of Sgt Green to make her life miserable.
Roberta went back into the front room mainly to stand watch. This scenario was right out of the training manual she'd used at Hendon college. Her job right now was to secure the room as a possible crime scene. The death of the old lady had to be treated as suspicious until proven otherwise. This was standard operating procedure and she would as they say, ‘repel all boarders’ until it was freed up.
Roberta looked around the room that had all the signs of being the home of the old lady. After feeling sad at how such a long life could end up in such a small room. She noticed a row of pill bottles on a shelf. She looked at the labels on the bottles. From her limited knowledge of medicines, it seemed that the lady had been treated for cancer of the spleen because the drugs were almost identical to what had been prescribed for her mother. At the end of the row of bottles, there was a printed piece of paper. Roberta knew exactly what it was. She had one exactly like that in her purse that was back at the station. It was a form to order a repeat prescription.
Then, something attracted her gaze. The address on the form was different to that of the house where the raid had taken place.
She took a photo of the address and then went in search of the officer in charge of the raid.
“Sir, I think that you should look at this,” said Roberta as she addressed DCI Hurst, the officer from the Drugs Squad who was in charge of the operation.
She showed him the photo of the prescription form.
“This is the address of the old lady who is lying dead in the front room. As that is not this one, it might be worth taking a look at. It might be nothing, but as no stash of drugs were found here?”
The DCI thought for a second or so before replying.
“Thank you, Constable. Any leads we can get at the moment will be investigated.”
He took out his notebook and copied down the address.
“Well done for finding this out,” said the DCI.
“Just doing my job sir.”
Roberta returned to the front room to wait for the doctor.
“Galbraith! The Inspector wants to see you in his office right now!” barked Sergeant Green.
Roberta had just about finished the collation of nuisance calls that she’d been working on for almost a week.
She looked up at the Sergeant who had an evil grin on his face. This didn’t look like it was going to be an enjoyable visit to the Inspector.
“Don’t dawdle, the Inspector is a busy man,” said the Sergeant.
“Yes sir,” replied Roberta.
“You wished to see me sir?” said Roberta as she entered the Inspector’s office.
“Ah… yes. Please come in and close the door behind you.”
Roberta began to fear the worst. A closed door would usually mean a dressing down.
“Please sit down Roberta. You can relax, this is not a dressing down even though I gave that sort of hint to Sergeant Green.”
“Sir? I don’t understand?”
“It has come to my attention that you have crossed swords with the Sergeant more than once. I’m sorry for that. I’m the one to blame for whatever he has put you through. Spending your time collating nuisance phone calls is in my opinion not a very productive use of your time.”
Roberta wanted to say that it wasn’t his fault but for some reason, the words would not come out.
“The reason for me calling you here today, is that I finally received your personnel file from Hendon. I have to apologise once again for assigning you to Sergeant Green. His views about people who are… LGBT are well known around the station. Nothing illegal but the rank of Sergeant is as far as he will get if you get my meaning.”
“Inspector, this is all very well and I… I don’t quite understand where all this is leading?”
He smiled.
“Roberta, I was told by some friends of mine that you were a direct person. I admire you for that. No… What I am about to say is for the rest of the day, confidential. Are you happy to keep a secret for 24 hours?”
“I guess so,” replied Roberta with a good degree of hesitation in her voice.
“This station is going to close next month. As you know, it is a fairly small location and the writing has been on the wall for some considerable time. That’s why it hasn’t been redecorated in years. Your time with Sergeant Green breathing fire and brimstone at you is nearly over.”
“I get that Inspector, what has this to do with me? Do you know where I’m going to be transferred to?”
“I do. From the information coming down from above, you next station will be Edgware Road.”
Roberta let out a groan.
“Is there something the matter?”
“That’s where all the terrorists and really bad criminals and terrorists are taken.”
“That is correct. Why don’t you like the idea of going to Edgware Road?”
“Sir… AFAIK, I would need to be vetted by MI5 to work there?”
“Yes. I don’t think that your… gender would be an issue.”
Roberta shook her head.
“Sir… It is not me but my father. So far, I have managed to keep the fact that I’m his daughter out of my Police record. He is not a criminal but he is a person of some importance in the City of Westminster.”
“Why?”
“Sir, I’d rather not say who he is but I’ll show you if I can use your computer? You can never tell who is listening when they shouldn’t be.”
He hesitated for a second or so before moving out of the way.
Roberta swiftly found a bio of her father.
“That is who my father is.”
The inspector looked at the screen.
Then he sighed and shook his head at the same time.
“Thank you. Now I understand your reasons for not wanting to go to Edgware Road.”
Roberta closed the browser after making sure that the search history and all cookies would be deleted.
“You are a very careful woman,” said the Inspector.
“You know why that is, and why I can’t go to any high-profile station. That’s also why I didn’t come top of my class at Hendon.”
“Aren’t you being a little paranoid?”
Roberta shook her head.
“I want to make a name for myself not the offspring of my father. I have had a good dose of ‘poor little rich girl’ comments from CID even though I don’t flash the cash and I drive a twelve-year-old Fiesta. My accent and my graduation pictures from Oxford and Cambridge are there for anyone to see and also, a dead giveaway. It is easy for anyone to dig up my past if they use the right terms in a search engine and are prepared to spend some time just to dig up the dirt on me. I am under no illusion that eventually, my past will come to light but the longer I can delay that the better.”
“Ok, I’ll pass on what we have discussed upwards.”
“Is that everything? Sergeant Green will be wanting to know what I have done wrong and what my punishment will be?”
“No… The work you did with the dead woman and finding that address was noticed. You were not afraid to tell a DS that the front room was a separate crime scene and to get lost until the medical people had done their thing. Well done for that. His DCI noticed that and told him that you were right and that he was well out of order.”
“Thanks Sir but I was just following procedure.”
“Roberta, please keep quiet about the other things we have discussed. I will be briefing everyone tomorrow morning at 09:00.”
“Can I have that as a direct order? Just so that I can deflect the Sergeant?”
The inspector smiled.
“I am ordering you to not reveal what we have spoken about here today apart from the case of the old lady.”
“Thank you, sir, I will do just that sir. If you could quietly feedback my reticence about going to Edgware Road then I’d be grateful.”
“I will do that.”
He finished the call and slammed down the phone into its cradle. Then he stood up and came over to Roberta’s desk.
“Do you have something to say? What did the Inspector say?”
Roberta smiled back at him.
“Most of what was said is between the Inspector and me. He did congratulate me for the way I handled the deceased woman at the raid last week and that my tip about another location for the drug factory was very useful. I knew that last part as is it rather hard to hide the seizure of five tonnes of high-grade skunk from the press.”
“I order you to tell me what else was said!”
“Sorry Sarge. I am under his direct orders not to talk about the other things we discussed. If you don’t like it then please go and talk to him.”
The sergeant glared at Roberta. For a moment, she was sure that he was going to lose his temper but he didn’t. He stood there for more than twenty seconds before storming off. His voice could be heard as he shouted at someone in the corridor. He was a nasty piece of work.
The Inspector was addressing all the uniformed officers. A Detective Chief Inspector was doing the same to the plain clothes officers and civilian employees.
“Thank you all for managing to be here this morning. I will be back later tonight to talk to the night shift so I would appreciate that you only spread the facts,” said the Inspector as he addressed almost all the officers that were assigned to the day shift.
“Firstly, I want to update everyone on the drugs bust that we helped with a week or so back. The three brothers have all been charged with drug trafficking and cultivation. The ‘skunk’ that we took off the streets was according to the forensic people just about the most potent they have ever seen. Good work people.”
There was some muted discussion amongst the officers. The inspector waited for it to die down before continuing.
“Plus, they have all been charged with manslaughter by gross neglect of their grandmother. These charges are all down to the sterling work of Constable Galbraith. She protected the crime scene from the size 15’s of the drug squad until the doctor and the SOCO people had done their thing. They found that her last meal had been more than a week before her estimated time of death. The CPS will… if they get a conviction, they will be recommending a life sentence for each of them.”
He paused to let some chatter die down.
“At a meeting at County Hall three days ago, the “Ways and Means Committee” examined the proposed budget for the next financial year. Top of the list was the funding of the real estate that is used by the Met Police. As many of you are only too well aware, this place is falling down about our ears. As a result, this station will close for redevelopment in six weeks. The plans have been under consideration for some time but the latest inspection by the structural engineers was bad. The building is being condemned. This existing building will be torn down and replaced by a new state-of-the-art station that will also include a custody suite. That is something we sorely need in this part of London. Most of you will be transferred to Harrow Station but a few will go to Barnet and other stations around the capital. How many of you return here when the new station is opened in an estimated eighteen months' time will not be down to me. I’m taking up a posting to the Hampshire Constabulary in Lymington. I want to thank everyone for their duty and dedication to this station and I hope that the new one lives up to the reputation that this one has. Please collect an addressed letter on the way out. That will detail your next posting. If you have a beef with it, Dorothy Samuels from HR will be here from tomorrow and for the rest of the week. Go and see her and she may be able to help out. Before anyone gives me any grief, I had little input into the assignments. They were all decided by the people at Headquarters.”
He paused for a second before saying,
“Any questions?”
“That was some bombshell that the Inspector dropped,” said Constable Hart as he sat down and fingered his envelope.
“Not good,” said Constable Morris as he looked at his assignment.
“Where are you going?” asked Constable Hart.
“Croydon. The problem is that we’ve just rented a new flat in Friern Barnet. Getting to Croydon will be a right pain in the neck.”
“Thameslink or whatever the service is called this week,” suggested Constable Hart.
“Eh?”
“The train that runs from North of London down to Brighton. They run every twenty minutes at peak times.”
“Oh yeah. I’d forgotten about that.”
Just then Roberta arrived at the office.
“Hey Robbie, where are you off too next?” asked Constable Hart.
“No idea. My letter said that my next posting will become available in a few days.”
“Any idea why?”
Roberta smiled.
“Gossip central in Admin, is saying that our dear Sergeant Green put the mockers on my transfer to Edgware Road nick.”
Constable Morris said what all of them were thinking, “Fuck dear Sergeant Green.”
The aforementioned Sergeant Green was away at the Dentist that morning otherwise the mere threat of him appearing in the office unannounced would have been enough to stop him from expressing himself like that.
“I’ll probably end up on the Isle of Dogs knowing my luck,” said Roberta.
That was a lie. She’d been told unofficially that morning that her revised posting was to Tottenham. Roberta was not looking forward to that one little bit. Her father had literally dragged her to a football match at the old White Hart Lane stadium when Bournemouth first played there after getting a promotion to the Premier League. Not only did she hate soccer but the person sitting next to her kept hitting on her for the whole match. On the way, home from that match was the day that she'd told her father about wanting to be a woman.
“That won’t be so bad. That’s where Canary Wharf is. Lots of rich bankers work there,” said PC Morris.
“Wankers the lot of them,” said PC Hart.
“Very true. Stuck up twats the lot of them. I spent enough time at school with the sisters of them to last a lifetime,” commented Roberta.
“Ohhhhh. It looks like our Roberta prefers working class grunts?” said PC Hart.
She smiled at her two colleagues. Thankfully, neither of them had tried to chat her up.
“Only if they are women.”
“That’s not news,” said PC Morris.
“That’s why the Sarge came down on you like a tonne of bricks. He hates Lesbians after his wife of ten years decided that she was a Lesbian and left him for her Pilates Instructor.”
Roberta thought to herself… ‘There is a god after all’.
[to be continued]
“Welcome to Tottenham nick, PC Galbraith.”
Roberta had reported for duty at her new assignment on the Monday after finishing at Colindale the previous Friday.
“I’m Inspector Foster. I have had some good reports about you from your old Inspector. Keep that up and you will go far in the force.”
“Thank you, sir. I try my best, but that isn’t always enough.”
He chuckled.
“Ah yes, Sergeant Green. He was my training officer when I graduated from Hendon. He is very back and white. Grovel to him and get on or say no and face his wrath every day.”
“That is a very good description of what it was like, sir.”
Roberta had been briefed about her new Inspector by Inspector Youngman.
“I’m assigning you to Sergeant Singh until you get to know the area. Everyone calls him VJ. He is a fine officer. Firm but gives good feedback when needed. All the other constables that he has mentored have nothing but praise for VJ.”
“Thanks sir. It is good to know that.”
“How much do you know about this part of London?”
“Not a lot sir. Now if you had asked me about sheep rustling on the Somerset/Dorset border then I could give you chapter and verse. I joined the Met in order to get experience in as wide a range of events, criminal or not as possible.”
The inspector smiled.
“Thank you for being honest about that. The last rookie thought that they knew everything just because they’d been to a couple of matches at White Hart Lane as a child. He soon learned that it is not like that at all. These days, he is one of our best PC’s so even with a rocky start, he came good. Everyone expects that he’ll make Sergeant later this year.”
He swallowed before carrying on.
“This part of London is very diverse, economically, ethnically and religiously. Most of the time there are no issues between the different groups but from time to time, things can get a little tense. Since the riots of 2011, we have worked hard to improve relationships between the different groups. I… and the powers that be don’t want to jeopardise the work we have done to date but it is a long process. Often, it feels that is a bit like walking a tightrope, but if we show the different communities that we are treating them equally, we get some support even if it is more often than not, lukewarm at best.”
“I’ll try my best to keep that in mind. I’m not a heavy-handed policing sort of person.”
“I hope so.”
“Then there is the little matter of the footie fans. The new stadium that they have just started to build, will be a heck of a lot bigger than the old one. At the moment, there are no fans to deal with as Spurs are playing their home matches at Wembley, but that is only a temporary measure. While the team is playing at Wembley, we send our own team of officers to help out the Wembley division on match days. When that comes to an end, will have a whole host of new issues to handle when they move back. We are all hoping that their first match at home is not against Arsenal.”
“The old North London rivalry then?”
“Exactly. There is little love lost between the two sets of supporters. When they do start playing at the new stadium don’t plan on any time off on match days for the first few months while all the new systems and procedures bed down.”
A nod of the Inspectors head told Roberta that the meeting was over.
“Ready to start finding your way around our patch?” asked Sergeant VJ Singh.
“As ready as I’ll ever be… Where are we going first?”
The Sarge grinned. His beard and moustache seemed to have been waxed since the previous day. Roberta wondered if that was in her honour. ‘Probably not’, she said to herself.
“I thought that we’d start with Broadwater Farm. That’s been a source of a lot of trouble over the years but is fairly peaceable at the moment. There is a sort of truce between us and the drug dealers. They keep hard drugs off the estate and we keep a low profile when it comes to policing. There is no way we can keep weed off the estate short if encasing it in a sealed bubble so we manage the situation as best we can. That isn’t to say that there isn’t some cocaine or heroin or whatever on the estate but it is generally not openly sold.”
“Nothing like a baptism by fire then?”
He grinned again.
“It does get better.”
[four hours later, back at the station]
“What do you think about our patch so far? You have been scribbling away as if there is no tomorrow.”
Roberta smiled back at her Sergeant. She was beginning to like him as a person as well as a copper.
“There is a lot going on just under the surface isn’t there?”
“There is. We know it, and the criminals know that we know it. We have to keep the peace. To be honest, we got our backsides and everything else kicked back in 2011 when we went down hard on even the most petty of crimes. We don’t do that now. We choose our battles with a bit more care these days if you know what I mean.”
Roberta referred to her notebook.
“I see you know shorthand,” said VJ.
“I do. My mother taught me. I’m a little rusty but I’ll soon get back into using it again. A couple of my instructors at Hendon didn’t like me using it because they could not read my notes.”
VJ smiled.
“Yet, as long as you use standard shorthand it is perfectly admissible as evidence in court.”
“That so called excuse fell on deaf ears I’m afraid.”
“As long as you can read back your notes on demand then I’m happy. What was the highlight of our little tour?”
Roberta thought for a moment and then replied.
“This Leroy James, is quite a player, isn’t he?”
This time VJ did laugh.
“He knows everyone and everything that is going on in and around the borough. His little gang of crooks, act as intermediaries between the other crews. Everyone, on his team knows when to keep their mouths shut but for some reason, they have some ethics. It has been known and don’t quote me on this for one of them to phone Crimestoppers with a tip about someone abusing a child or dealing in child porn. Their philosophy of making money in any way they can stops then it comes to old folk and children under ten. The other crews might not like it but they have learned to respect them for it. Any conmen who want to prey on the elderly generally don’t last very long. One was run out of the area last year in his underwear after trying to take down the mother of one of the other crews. Leroy’s band of crooks got a lot of street cred for doing that.”
“It is good to know that.”
“Just don’t go asking them to rat on anyone. They can’t be seen to be helping us but as I said, they are not totally evil and they know that Crimestoppers is just a phone call away and it has been known for them to use it when there are some nasties that need dealing with legally.”
“Thanks Sarge. What’s next on my guided tour?”
VJ grinned.
“I think that tomorrow, I should introduce you Green Lanes. If you can muster up a few words of Turkish or Greek between now and tomorrow all the better.”
“Thanks Sarge. I’ll at least try to learn a few words.”
“Make sure that you include, ‘I’m spoken for’. Your blonde hair will make the young men come running like bees to honey.”
“Gotcha Sarge.”
Roberta’s radio cackled into life as she walked back to her car after taking a statement from a local councillor who had been mugged right outside the council offices. She had gotten to know that this particular councillor was very ‘anti-police’ but to her surprise, he’d not given her a hard time with the statement taking. That was probably down to her telling him at the outset, that an arrest had been made that very morning thanks to the CCTV system that he’d fought tooth and nail to block only the previous year.
“Control to Five Nine!” said the voice on her radio.
“Five Nine receiving,” said Roberta.
Any thoughts of getting a drink of something that would wash away the taste of the councillor’s apology for tea that was not only tepid but as weak as… most American beers that she’d ever tasted.
“Five Nine, we have a silent alarm going off at the Post Office on Green Lanes. We have you down as being close by?”
“Control, I’m done with the statement. I’m about two hundred metres from the location on Green Lanes. I will Investigate.”
“Five Nine, please be advised that tactical support is five minutes away. They will be coming in quiet.”
“Understood control. Five Nine out.”
The words ‘coming in quiet’ meant that no sirens or lights would be used.
Roberta hurried towards the main road and the location of the Post Office. She also knew that ‘support’ meant armed support officers were on their way along with a senior officer who could authorise the use of firearms should they be needed.
As Roberta turned the corner, she saw two men flee out of the Post Office and dive into a waiting car. It took off with a squeal of tyres, heading away from Roberta not that there was anything that she could do about it on her own.
Roberta watched as the car headed towards a pelican crossing[1], where an old lady was crossing with her shopping trolley. She had this feeling deep down in her heart that the car was not going to stop. Her mouth dropped open as out of nowhere, someone came and literally swept up the old lady and carried her to safety.
The getaway car ploughed into her shopping trolley leaving it a mangled wreck as it sped away leaving a cloud of smelly exhaust smoke behind it. That trolley could have easily been the old woman.
Roberta hurried to the scene to check on the lady. As she came close, she recognised the man who had rescued the woman. He was talking to her and trying to reassure her that she was ok. The man was well known to her… it was Leroy James.
“Well done for rescuing her Mr James,” said Roberta in an attempt to get control of the situation.
“Get an ambulance. She’s going into shock,” said Leroy gruffly.
Roberta had seen the signs and was about to make the call to control.
“Five nine to control. The thieves took off in a red BMW M5 towards Finsbury Park. They numberplate was covered by a cloth but the car has a white stripe running down the centre of the body. That is not a standard paint job. The paint is semi-matte not gloss. The engine is smoking heavily.”
“Control to Five Nine, understood.”
“Control, can you send an ambulance to the scene. We nearly had a hit and run and the victim is elderly and going into shock.”
“Five nine, will do. Support should be arriving right now.”
Roberta looked northwards and saw the lights of several Police cars approaching. It was a pity that they’d not come from the south then they might have intercepted the thieves.
At first, several of the officers wanted to arrest Leroy James for the robbery but Roberta was the perfect witness to his involvement and it was only to stop a hit-and-run death. Her support earned her a small nod of thanks from Leroy. As soon as the was done telling the officers what happened he disappeared knowing that he owed Roberta. Not every officer would have stood up to a Detective Inspector who had wanted to arrest him for the robbery.
Roberta also knew from her discussions with Sergeant Singh, that if Leroy and his crew had been involved in a Post Office robbery, it would most certainly not be anywhere near where they are all known by all the local officers. That would just be asking for trouble.
[two hours later]
CID arrived in force soon after Leroy had disappeared and had taken control of the crime scene at the Post Office. Sergeant VJ Singh had arrived and was helping Roberta with the scene of the incident with the woman and her shopping trolley. An Ambulance had taken the woman off to Hospital for a check-up. What was left of her trolley was taken away as evidence. Two local shopkeepers had come forward and volunteered to make sure that the goods that she’d just bought and subsequently destroyed were replaced. Another shopkeeper was on the phone arranging for a new trolley for the lady. Those moves did not altogether surprise Roberta. She had already seen many cases of people rallying around to help when needed in the area.
“Leroy did a runner about an hour ago. I’ll need to track him down for a statement.
“No surprise there, Constable,” said VJ.
“He can’t be seen talking to us. CID maybe but not us uniforms.”
“Gotcha Sarge but… he saved her life.”
“It does not matter. He has a reputation to uphold.”
Roberta was not so sure about that. News of his action would soon spread around the borough and it would be expected that he would have to give a statement about the incident. Even so it might not be easy find him for the decidedly non-criminal activity of making a statement.
Finding Leroy James did prove to be difficult. After a week, there had been zero progress on the robbery and CID were getting nowhere. To make matters worse, Leroy and his entire crew had gone AWOL. None of the local informants had seen them since the day of the robbery. One or two detectives were even suggesting that it was Leroy’s crew who did the robbery and that he’d been on hand should anything go wrong.
Those rumours were false. The CCTV from the post office clearly showed that it was two white men who did the robbery and all of Leroy's crew were either of Afro-Caribbean or of South Asian origin.
Roberta kept on slowly gathering little bits of intelligence relating to Leroy and his associates. A question here, a question there and even if no one was willing to say to her have where Leroy was holed up, all help no matter how small was appreciated. She made sure to thank anyone who volunteered an opinion even if that opinion questioned her parentage. She knew how disarming telling someone who had called you a bastard can be if the target says, ‘thanks for your time’.
Sgt Singh knew in general terms what she was doing and that was good enough for him. Roberta’s nature was to do things quietly and softly which was very much in alignment with his so he gave her free rein to do whatever it took if it helped clear up the case.
Nine days after the robbery, she finally had a good lead on the whereabouts of Leroy James. The information she had was third or fourth hand but it fitted. Leroy was holed up in a relative's house just off Harrow Road in North West London. After a couple of phone calls with one of her former colleagues from Colindale she was able to confirm her suspicions.
After coming off shift that evening, she changed into civilian clothes and headed for Harrow Road.
She located the possible location for Leroy James. Her heart started to race when she recognised his set of ‘wheels’, a customised VW Golf VR6. The V6 engine was tuned to within an inch of its life but could outrun pretty well anything that was legally on the road apart from a very expensive hypercar, thanks to the twin turbos. She let herself smile when she saw that the number plates had been swapped for a different set. She made a mental note of the number and a reminder to get one of the detectives to find out the real owner of the plates the following day.
Even as she thought about possibly dropping Leroy right in it, she thought different. If he as she suspected knew the identities of the robbers, hiding the very recognisable vanity number plate made sense. She decided to let it ride.
Roberta checked the bonnet and found that the engine was cold. She noticed a twitch of a curtain on the other side of the road. She took that as a hint and walked back to the main road where she walked into an Indian Restaurant and took a window table where she could watch what was going on in the street where the car was parked.
She’d almost finished her meal when the hairs on the back of her head stood up.
“Hello Leroy, I’m PC Galbraith,” she said without turning around. The distinctive aftershave that Leroy wore signalled his presence.
“I know who you are. I don’t speak to the likes of you," he replied, trying to act tough.
“I saw you check my wheels. I’ll deal with whoever tipped you off about my new crib later.”
“No one person dobbed you in and a colleague of mine from Wembley nick, checked your location out. No one else other than me knows where you are. I just need a statement about your heroics on Green Lanes.”
Roberta was not going to be deterred that easily.
“I’m not after you for anything. You saved the life of Mrs Cook. Leaping into the road and pulling her out of harm's way is not to be sniffed at…”
“So? That don’t put food on the table! Being holed up here don’t either, you get my drift?”
"That might be true, but there is a lot of respect for what you did."
Leroy nodded his head. Until then, his whole attitude was one of defiance.
“I still ain’t speaking to you. That would make me a snitch, and I ain’t one of them.”
"I understand very well about your street cred. How about we meet later on at someplace a good way from here where no one will know you or me? You were the last person to see those robbers. We need your help.”
“I…” muttered Leroy.
“How about at the back entrance to Kew Gardens Tube Station this time tomorrow. That way, I won’t know if you decamp to a new crib in the meantime?”
Leroy looked at the Police Officer. She was hardly not a physical threat to him as he towered over her,
“As long as you ain’t gonna nick me for sommat that I didn’t do?”
“Today, Leroy, you get a free pass but only for today and tomorrow!"
She smiled at him. Leroy's body language had changed to one that was less defensive.
“Do we have a deal?”
“Yeah. We have a deal. Now I have to get going. My crew will be wondering where I went.”
Once again, Roberta smiled.
Leroy, walked away wondering just how he'd been conned by this rookie copper. He’d found it impossible to say no to this woman and that troubled him no end.
Roberta bought herself a fish supper from the chippy while she waited for Leroy to arrive. She had started with high hopes for their meeting… hopes that got lower and lower with the arrival of each train. With each train, fewer and fewer people left the station and headed towards their homes. Even the chippy was starting to close when she saw Leroy on the other side of the road.
She forced herself not to look too pleased or to hurry over towards him. To her surprise, he walked calmly towards her.
“Thanks for coming Leroy,” said a relieved Roberta.
“I saw you arrive but I had to make sure that you were alone.”
“I said that I’d come alone and I did. I do try my hardest to keep my word when I give it.”
Leroy remained impassive.
“Shall we sit down and get this done? I don’t know about you but I have somewhere to be tonight that is a long way from here and even farther from N17[2].”
If Roberta had expected some sort of reaction from Leroy, she was mistaken.
[30 minutes later]
“That’s it Leroy. Just sign each page at the bottom and you can be on your way.”
He signed the three pages of the statement he’d just dictated to Roberta.
As Roberta gathered them together, she said,
“I have something to say off the record, ok?”
Leroy nodded his head.
“I know that you recognised the robbers. Why else would you and your crew disappear off the face of the earth. My guess is that you think that they know that you know who nearly killed the old lady.”
Leroy looked a bit edgy. She guessed that what she’d said was pretty close to the mark.
“If you want to get back to normal then you need get them locked up. I don’t want to know. What I don’t know, I can’t tell on… can I? If you do want to get it off your chest then call CrimeStoppers. Do it from a payphone and it will be untraceable. That’s the only way I can see you getting things back to normal back in our Manor. That’s all I have to say.”
Leroy nodded his head.
“I’ll get out of here. Then you can head off to wherever you are bedding down for the night. Again, I don’t want to know. My job was to get the statement and that’s done. Thanks again Leroy and… good luck.”
Roberta stood up and walked into the Tube Station. She chose the side that only went one stop, to Richmond. That was a deliberate ploy on her part. It was designed to send a message to Leroy that she was not interested in where he was going.
She took the next train to Richmond where she changed trains to get to Strawberry Hill where her car was parked. Her mind was already on the weekend ahead at her home in Dorset. It was her father’s 60th birthday. She was hosting a dinner party for a whole bunch of his closest friends including two current cabinet ministers.
That world was a far cry from N17 and its environs.
“Sarge, I have the statement from Leroy James,” said Roberta after she’d reported for duty.
He smiled at this not so rookie Constable.
“I won’t ask how you got it. No one has seen hide nor tail of him for well over a week.”
“Sarge, I just did a bit of detective work. Nothing special.”
“Constable Galbraith… Please stop putting yourself down. You go the extra mile without even thinking about it. I know that the Inspector is pleased with your work and this will make him even happier. He loves to get one over on DCI Black. Nothing serious but a bit of friendly rivalry you understand.”
“I do Sarge.”
He looked at Robert and said something that he’d been thinking about for a few weeks.
“You want to be in CID, don’t you?”
“Sarge?”
“It has been very clear to most of us here from almost the day that you arrived, that is where you belong. Getting this statement could be the result that opens that particular door. Don’t quote me on that but that is the feeling I get from the Inspector.”
“Thanks Sarge.”
“No Constable, thank you. It is officers like you that make the mentoring I do worthwhile.”
“Get kitted up Constable. You are going on a raid with CID,” said Sergeant VJ Singh.
“Me?”
“Yes you. Someone gave us a tip off about the Post Office robbers. They told us who they are and even better, where they are holed up.”
Roberta smiled at the prospect of arresting the thieves.
“My guess is that you are behind this tip off. Someone said something to someone who had the information and they have acted on it.”
“Sorry Sarge. I was down in Dorset all weekend helping entertain a load of bigwigs.”
“Anyone in particular?”
“Sarge, you know I try to keep that part of my life separate from this one.”
“I know but a little hint?”
Roberta understood the Sergeant.
“Just between you and me… One of the guests was our boss.”
“Not the inspector? I thought that he was away playing golf in Kent?”
“Not him, higher… a lot higher.”
“The Commissioner?”
She shook her head and raised her eyes.
“Not the Home Secretary?”
“Sarge… I could not possibly say.”
“Ever the diplomat eh Roberta?”
“PC Galbraith, I want you and DC Thompson to cover the back entrance,” said DCI Mitchell who was running the show on the ground as the nominated SIO for the operation
A team of specialists from Special Branch were present and would be used to break into the ground floor flat that was suspected to be where the gang who'd robbed the Post Office were hiding out. This team was armed because the gang had used a handgun during the robbery. While they didn’t discharge it, the mere threat of being shot was more than enough to make the Post Office staff give up the recently delivered cash bags.
During the robbery, at least one 'dye bomb' went off which had covered the thieves in blue dye. Even though they'd been wearing ski masks, the exposed parts of their faces would have been covered in the dye. Even with a lot of washing, it would take several weeks before they could venture out in public again.
Roberta and DC Thompson headed around to the rear of the property. They kept hidden until they’d received the signal from DI Mitchell that the front door had been breached.
She didn’t think much of DC Mark Thompson as a detective. He was totally ‘by the book’ and as far as she knew, couldn’t think outside the box which was how many crimes were solved. In her estimation, he’d be better off back in uniform but that was just her opinion which counted for nothing in the grand scheme of things.
Her daydreaming was cut short by a loud bang from inside the flat. The backdoor opened and two men made a hasty exit from the flat. It was up to her and DC Thompson to stop them.
To her surprise, DC Thompson simply shoulder-charged the first man. That knocked him to the ground. Roberta took the easy way and simply stuck out a foot and let the escaping man trip over it. That also sent the man sprawling on the ground. She wasted no time and straddled him with her handcuffs at the ready.
“Get off me!” shouted the man.
Roberta ignored his struggles. He was going nowhere with her on his back. She got him handcuffed and then said the immortal words used in so many TV cop shows,
“You’re nicked.”
DC Thompson was having a much harder time with the other suspect. Aid in the form of two burly Special Branch officers came to his rescue.
Both suspects were soon led away to waiting vans. They’d be transferred to a local station for the initial interrogation. DCI Mitchell came over to Roberta as she wrote up her notes on the operation.
“Well done PC Galbraith. That was a neat move to take that suspect down.”
“I did what was needed. He was far more concerned with fleeing than what was going on around him. That made it easy to trip him up.”
“You did well unlike DC Thompson.”
“Sir…? DC Thompson just got a bit unlucky with the way the suspect hit the deck. That made it harder for him to get the cuffs on.”
DCI Mitchell shook his head and smiled back at Roberta. She didn’t know it but she had impressed several people in the CID operation at Tottenham nick.
“PC Galbraith, DCI Foster wants to see you in his office,” said Sergeant VJ Singh.
“Sarge?” asked a slightly surprised Roberta.
The Sergeant smiled.
“I don’t think that it is anything to worry about.”
Roberta wasn’t that convinced. She had regular talks with the Inspector but this was not one of those. She’d had one of those a little over two weeks before.
With a certain amount of fear, she went into the inspector's Office.
She found that the Inspector was not alone. Two other senior officers were present. Both of them were in uniform. From the insignia on those uniforms, she knew that one was a Chief Superintendent and the other a Superintendent.
“Roberta, thanks for coming as such short notice. This is Chief Superintendent Morrisey and Superintendent Barnes. Please take a seat.”
The feeling of disaster that she’d been pushing away came back with a vengeance. She sat down and waited for the axe to fall. Only two people at the station knew of her true background but there was always a danger that someone might have discovered that her father was a hereditary peer and chairman of a very important House of Lords. She waited for the inevitable exposure. In the eyes of many, she would be regarded as a fraud. She was a total fraud but in a different way.
“Constable Galbraith,” began the Chief Superintendent.
“We have had a number of excellent reports about your work here.”
Internally, Roberta let out a huge sigh.
“It has become clear to us that your destination is in CID and not remaining in the uniformed division. Do you agree?”
His question put Roberta firmly on the spot.
“Sir? I… I think that you are correct in that assessment in that I’d like to end up in CID.”
“Do I detect some hesitancy?” said the Superintendent.
“Sir? I don’t want to tread on anyone’s toes. I know that there isn’t a vacancy in CID at the present time. Perhaps… in due course?”
The Chief Super smiled and looked at Inspector Foster. He took his cue perfectly.
“Constable Galbraith, there is a vacancy coming up. DC Thompson has decided to return to uniform. What the Chief is hinting at is… are you willing to move to CID at least on a temporary basis until the formal end of your probationary year? We know that you are technically still a rookie but you have proved yourself to be an able and intelligent officer. Plus, with your background in Criminology, you are just the sort of person that we need for the new face of CID. More thoughtful policing and less of the crash bang kick the doors down sort if you get my meaning.”
“Sir? I don’t know what to say…” stuttered Roberta.
“Please, take a few days to think it over and let the Inspector know your decision,” said the Chief Super.
Roberta’s mind was in a bit of a tizzy. She almost missed what he said next.
“We know that you are a special officer and you will have a great future in the Met.”
The words ‘special officer’ hit Roberta right in the heart.
“We know about your background. When we floated the idea of you transferring to CID to your Inspector, he took it upon himself to inform us of your somewhat unique history,” said the Chief Super.
“We respect the fact that you want to be treated as a woman and not anything special but it is very clear to use that you have a talent for investigation. The reports we received from Colindale gave us a heads up about your dedication to finding the truth. Dinosaurs like Sergeant Green clearly saw that in you right from the start and that why he put you through a lot of grief. Since you transferred here from Colindale, we have had nothing but good reports on your work. We think that you are ready to take the next step in your career.”
Roberta had taken the time to get her mind into some sort of working order.
“Sir… If you think that I am ready then I will do it.”
The three senior officers smiled. It was done.
“Finish up any work you have left and report to DI Gardener on Monday. He will be expecting you,” said the Inspector.
“Thank you, Sir. I’ll do my best not to let you down.”
Roberta was no longer the ‘uniformed rookie’ at Tottenham ‘nick’.
[the end] [of this story but not the end of tales involving Roberta Galbraith]
[1] Pelican Crossing. A pedestrian controlled crossing. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pelican_crossing
[2] N17. The London postal district that covers most of the area policed by the officers at Tottenham station.
[3] SIO : Senior Investigative Officer. The person nominated to be charge of an investigation.