Battlecat
September 5, 2007 by inspectorgadget
I am face to face with Battlecat. He has no respect for authority. To him, power comes from the bottom of a tin, and only then for a short while.
Outside on the street some hazy, cosmic jazz is coming loudly from the flat above. We have been here before but this time it’s not raining. The evening is the kind of hot you get when you step out of an airconditioned car.
Everyone has retreated from the scene leaving the usual sterilized, blue and white elastic litter on the deck. One minute packed away neatly in a paramedic unit’s bag, the next ripped open, used and discarded.
Battlecat has had a good look and he doesn’t like what he sees.
So who did what to whom? when? and probably more interesting (if not more important)why? I try to discover the answer to the most immediate question. “Is the victim an innocent member of the public?”. The answer to this question does not inform how we will investigate. But it will give me a hint about whether anyone is going to talk to us about what happened.
I once dealt with a case where the “wall of silence” after a stabbing was created by the fact that the local community were pleased that someone had dealt with a nasty, violent and dangerous drug-user on their estate. They weren’t about to “give up” the person who removed him from their street.
The media wrongly said it was because they were afraid of reprisals.
I wasn’t sure which was worse.
Battlecat stares at me. “I have nothing for you” I say. “Slope off back to where you came from, you give me the creeps”.
“That’s not very nice Guv” says a deep voice from behind me. The On-Call Detective Sergeant has arrived. I know him. He is mustard (as keen as), and I’m out of here in ten minutes if he listens first time to what I have learned about the victim.
“Screw you, I ain’t sayin’ nuffink, you get me?”
He does and I’m gone. Battlecat spits. There is no loyalty from the hungry. This is a dirty job, but someone has to do it.
So who’s the girl in the picture?
If that cat could talk, what tales he’d tell,
About Della and the Dealer and the dog as well.
But the cat was cool,
And he never said a mumblin’ word.
The Dealer had a knife and the dog had a gun,
And the cat had a shot of rye.
So that clears that one up.
Excellent post as usual Gadget.
Love the job, Hate the work!
Pardon my ignorance but what does “he is mustard” mean or where does it come from?
“As Keen As Mustard”
“He Can Cut The Mustard”
I try to be mustard, i really do, but our supervision seems to prefer us being Pickle.
Thanks Inspector.
cut the mustard : could have been corrupted from Pass muster:
From OED:
d. orig. Mil. to pass muster: to undergo muster or inspection without censure; (later in extended use) to come up to the required standard, to be beyond reproach or criticism; to be taken or accepted as (occas. for) something.
1627 J. SMITH Sea Gram. xii. 56 Such a Ship..might well passe muster for a man of warre.
dungfox…. I need you on my carrier……
Wasn’t Battle cat He-mans faithful sidekick?
Oh how the mighty has fallen.
battlecat from he-man?
you need man-at-arms to regulate, no doubt
Cats are evil innovative little whatsits if this bag of fur paws claws and minimal brain currently doing his best to chew my fingers and walk on the keyboard is anything to go by. (and has now tried to use my arm as a tree branch, now bleeding from 3 claw marks! Git!)
Hum so this community’s expectations of police action with regard to a drug user were not met hum? What could we do? He can’t be ASBO’d to stay away from the place. He lives there. Even if he is caught with class A- has to be bailed for several weeks each time to prove it is class A. Nick him every time for shouting and being aggressive- kept in for court and convicted for public order- judge says time served or maybe a week inside. Another conviction is really not going to matter to this bloke.
So, next week, same problem.
So I must admit to some degree of sympathy for giving said user a pasting. Don’t mean its right though
People dothe do wot it pleases them now. tomorrow be another day.
Two results, one Pleasure ; tother Pain; wot be one man’s pain be another man’s pleasure.
Of course the state must Not inflict pain ; that be too cruel.
‘Twas a time when thee enjoyed breaking rocks as a result of giving pain to the MOPPETS, now rocks can be only sniffed or sucked.
Re: the arm of the Law and winning Atta boys, will never happen as long as 90% of the publick [including JP’s, be potential criminals for driving and making potential dumb and/or intentional errors of judgement, especially when it interferes with enjoyment of their social quaff.
Dungfox, i’ve changed my mind… I’d have thrown you out by the first set of lights!
Thank yee