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Lost Cause

LOST CAUSE by Matt Hilton



“So what are you thinking of charging her with, Constable?”

“I want to throw the book at her this time, Sarge. She can’t keep on getting away with it all the time.”

“The judge takes one look at her and he’ll throw the case out.”

“Don’t let the blond curls and cutesy turned-up nose fool you, Sarge. She’s a bad one, all right. This is the third time that we’ve had her in here this month.”

“I agree that it’s time we started looking at some sort of intervention. Before she gets out of hand and does some real harm. But-”

“Burglary with intent...is that not bad enough?”

“OK, slow down, Constable. Before we get her out of the cell I want the full facts.”

“She broke into the house, Sarge and...”

“Wait a minute. She broke in?”

“Well, not exactly. Door was open, but that’s beside the point. She still entered a dwelling as a trespasser with the intent to cause damage or to steal. That’s as good as burglary when you go by the definition...”

“Don’t start quoting definitions at me, son. I’ve forgotten more definitions than you’ll ever know.”

“Sorry, Sarge.”

“Carry on, and let’s keep this brief shall we? There’s no solicitor here, just us real men.”

“OK, well, she broke...eh, entered this house when the owners were out. She went all the way through the place, broke a chair, and ate some food.”

“And that’s where you’re getting the criminal damage and theft angle from?”

“Well, yes, Sarge. It’s right isn’t it?”

“In a way, yes. What does the Crown Prosecution Service say?”

“I haven’t consulted with them, yet. I trust your opinion, Sarge.”

“Huh...you were trying to tell me my job a minute ago.”

“I know. I was over-stepping the mark. Sorry, Sarge, I just don’t want to let the little bitch get away with it again.”

“Language, Constable. You know that’s not the way I run my custody suite. Now, carry on. What else did she do?”

“Well, apparently bounced on every bed in the house and then...”

“Don’t tell me. She didn’t defecate in the bed again?”

“Not this time, Sarge. No. She just lay down and went to sleep.”

“...and that’s how you caught her?”

“Yes, Sarge. Mr and Mrs Brown came home and there she was. All tucked up like there was nothing the matter. She hit them with her usual story: y’know the one about being lost.”

“Obviously they didn’t believe her?”

“No, so she just gave them a load of verbals and did a bunk.”

“She did a runner?”

“Yes, but I got her.”

“Good work, Constable.”

“Something else we might want to keep an eye on, Sarge. When we found her she was in the baby’s bed.”

“Was the baby in the bed at the time?”

“Well, no, but you still have to admit it’s a little weird.”

“Weird but not enough to put her on the sex offenders register just yet.”

“I was thinking...”

“Forget it, Constable. We can’t go with that around here. You know that.”

“Sorry, Sarge. I forgot for a minute.”

“Once upon a time it was different...but not now. Any way, never mind. Go bring her from her cell. Maybe you’d better get a female to go with you.”

“I can handle her, Sarge.”

“That’s not my concern. Sweet looking little thing like that, you know how the defence are: if they think you’ve been in her cell alone? I wouldn’t put it past them to shout sexual harassment. Can see the headlines now. And her with that cute little face like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth...”

“Wasn’t butter, Sarge.”

“Eh?”

“Wasn’t butter she ate, it was breakfast cereal.”

“Ha! Very funny. Just go and get her.”

“Yes, Sarge.”

“Wait on. Before you go...for the charge sheet, how do you spell Goldilocks again?”


End


Note: This story first appeared at the webzine “Thrillers, Killers ‘N’ Chillers”.


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