PHOENIX n. a mythical bird said to burn itself and rise again from it’s ashes.

Saturday night outside Rural Town’s night club. With four of his mates, a drunken yob puts his nose in my face and calls me a shit-face. Mid week, and he has the misfortune to bump into me in custody. He needed to have ID papers served on him for an unprovoked assault in the High Street last month. Oh dear, this time there was no drink in him, no mates to back him up and no dark, rainy street in the middle of the usual mayhem to disguise his face and divert my attention. This time it was just him and me, in a side room, off camera. He recognises me immediately and his leg starts to shake. I say “was there something you wanted to say to me from Saturday night, now we are alone face to face?” he says “I think I will have that solicitor present after all”. Later I get involved with the team in a complicated job which results in multiple arrests. As usual, I get to see the Custody Skipper before the bodies come in, and square it away so the troops won’t have any problems getting them locked up. I say to him “listen, it’s a complicated job, I can let you know the circs in advance, the bobbies nicked them all on my information and………” he stops me. “Guv, are you saying you want them all locked up?” I look at him for a few seconds. “Yes”. “Then it’s done Boss, show yourself away now”.

I’m back.