The big case was behind us and settling back into routine was difficult. A high-profile murder opens doors for you, gives you power to cut corners and bypass procedures. When you ask for something to be done, it gets done. You live and breathe the case for twenty-four hours per day, seven days a week, and then it’s over. Handshakes all round, have a booze-up with the lads, and it’s back to normal duties. Somebody was stealing knickers off washing lines and we might have had an attempted murder by poison. Or maybe it was self-inflicted. Burglary was hovering slightly below its normal level and car theft was slightly down, too. The Assistant Chief Constable (Crime) was pleased with the figures and when he is happy Gilbert is happy, so we have an easy life. But I miss the excitement. Filling in forms and finding the correct path through the ever-moving maze of regulations that beset the most routine, black-and-white investigation is not my idea of being a cop. It used to be fun.
