52 - The Detectives Teeth

          The obnoxious detective with the buck teeth, pale complexion and short dark hair was shuffling about struggling to find that sweet spot some sofas have as he said to the girl sitting opposite him, “this man just came out of nowhere, is that what you’re telling me?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Do I have to draw you a diagram or something?” replied the girl with a sigh. She had spent the last twenty minutes staring at those teeth and was getting more and more agitated.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” he said, struggling with the t’s in think and that, his tongue clashing with too many teeth and making a small lisp.

“Well you seem to struggle when I say, ‘and he just came out of nowhere,’ so maybe there is. How many times do I have to tell you?” she said, thinking that he really needs to get his teeth fixed.

“I’m only trying to clarify the facts. The street was empty - Yes?” he said, staring at the good looking girl sitting opposite and her long blond hair with the roots a bit dark. He was thinking hair dye and imagining red lipstick.

“Like I said I was walking down the street feeling nervous because it was dark and there was no one about. That kind of indicates the street was empty with only me filling it, doesn’t it? Then of course this guy springing out of nowhere adding one more. How’s that sound? That’s about as thorough as I can get it.”

“Ok, then what happened?” he said maybe with a bit of exasperation.

“What d’you mean what happened? You know what happened. As I told you. I thumped him.” She smiled at that as though she was taking pleasure in seeing him drop to the ground with all that blood coming from his nose.

“You more than thumped him though, didn't you?”

“I hit him hard enough to put him down is all I did. What’s a girl supposed to do when a guy jumps out of nowhere?” Her dark, smile-worn eyes were flashing at him.

“You had any training then? To be able to put a six foot man on the deck. What are you? Five feet and a few inches? Maybe 120 pounds?” he said, seeing this almost petite girl with her skimpy clothes and sexy way and imagining how good she might be to go with.

“Five four and yup about 120 but what’s that got to do with anything we’re talking about?”

“Just that it takes a bit to put down a six footer with some weight.”

“Yeah, some weight and no muscle. The guy was full of flab. I could feel it. He was all squishy and sweaty like a damp sponge.”

“So, how about any training then?” he moved about some more and the policewoman next to him shifted over, shuffling up to the sofa arm and looking trapped.

“Only at the self defence classes at the hall in town when I was young and that Cristian Glimp or Glump or Glonk or whatever his weird name is was offering to give free instruction to women. He should have been arrested should Mr Glunk. A very hands on instructor standing behind with his arms out front pushing me about and trying to cop a feel.” She did not say about the black belt she had been awarded a few years later.

“You want to make a complaint about him?” said the policewoman and the girl thought she was not too pally with Old Buckie sitting on the edge of the sofa like she was seemingly nervous and uncomfortable against the arm.

“No complaint. The guy’s a donkey and will get his one day I’m sure. It was a while ago anyway.”

“Like I said you more than just thumped him. You broke his nose. How’d you do that?” interrupted the inspector.

“He must have a weak, flabby nose. Like his weak, flabby arms. It did bust real easy.”

And he’s in hospital with a suspected concussion and a dislocated shoulder. How’d his shoulder get dislocated?”

“I could tell you he must’ve done it when he fell but you’ll just go on about how was that possible and give me even more of a hard time,” she said, starting to get a bit frustrated at the direction the interview was taking.

Enjoying the feeling he was getting to her the detective said, “is that how it was? He did it when he fell?”

“I said I could tell you that but that’s not how it was. He jumped out of nowhere and grabbed me round the neck and was trying to choke me but I sensed he lacked some strength so I ducked a bit and twisted a bit and got a good grip on his arm. Then I kind of swung round and bent his arm backwards and his shoulder dislocated. That’s how it was and to make sure he went down I whacked him. Stuck the palm of my hand onto his nose and that bust it up real good.”

“You sound like you enjoyed that. Doing all that and beating him up. A small slip like you beating up a fit young man,” he said and seemed to be trying to see up her skirt that had risen up a bit so she pulled it down with a little wiggle that did not go unnoticed.

The policewoman was looking at the detective now, seeing where his eyes were wandering. A kind of sideways look that said she was not comfortable with him. There was an issue there, an historic issue. The girl could see that.

The policewoman heard the detective say, “did you enjoy it?”

“What do you think?” the girl said, directing her question at the policewoman, “you think a girl enjoys being attacked at night in the dark in a lonely place and thinks she’s being strangled? Would you like it? By the tone of him your mate certainly does. And he wasn’t a

fit young man, he was a flabby forty something with bad breath. You know that don’t you though? You’ve seen him in hospital.” Then she said to the inspector, “you’ve seen him as well. Is he really your idea of a fit young man? Say that to a properly fit young man and he’ll tell you how it is alright. And I didn’t beat him up, I was defending myself.” She was now definitely getting annoyed and upset.

“He says he was just walking down the road and you hit him in the face then you twisted his arm until his shoulder dislocated. That’s what he says happened,” said the detective with one of those nasty little almost smirking smiles.

“What....that’s not true though he would say that wouldn’t he,” the girl said, starting to get tears in her eyes. She was getting emotional and distressed, the policewoman could see that. “He grabbed me from behind like I said. Had his arm around my neck choking me. He ripped my top. Tried to get his hand down my bra. Then stuck his hand up my shirt. Fumbling about. He was disgusting. But I’ve already told you all this.”

“Do you have a problem with men? You seem to say a lot about men and how they grope you. You good at making up stories about men? You seem to have that sort of attitude.”

“What. No. There’s just the two times I’ve had a problem. Cristian whatshisname and this one. That’s all. What’re you saying?”

“I’m saying you might enjoy making things up about men. You dress like you want to attract them. Maybe you like to tease them.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she said looking pleadingly at the policewoman, “why would I make it up?” But the policewoman kept quiet and just looked at the detective.

“You tease them, that’s what you do, don’t you? Make them think you like it and that you want it so they make advances towards you. That’s what you do, isn’t It. You provoke them.” And there’s that little smirk again but getting bigger.

“Why are you saying all these things? All I’ve done is report an attack,” she said, kind of raising her voice a bit and clearly becoming very emotional.

“An attack on who though, that’s the question. We’ve got to get to the bottom of that and decide who attacked who, haven’t we?”

She looked at the detective, shaking her head, then looked appealingly at the policewoman and said in a quiet trembling voice, “I don’t understand what the problem is. He attacked me, it's plain to see. I’ve the torn clothes and the marks.”

Feeling he was getting the upper hand the detective said, “it’s your word against his. There are no witnesses and your clothes and marks could have been done either way. I think you’re not telling us everything. To put this man down is not a lucky shot you needed training. What’s the story there then?”

“Ok. I’m a black belt in Jiu Jitsu,” she said a bit hesitantly.

“Now there’s a thing. A black belt eh. That explains it all,” said the inspector now getting very sure of himself, “the boys shouldn’t mess with you. Is that it?”

“I learnt it for self defence. So I can defend myself. That’s all. This man attacked me and I thought I was going to be raped and strangled so I defended myself.”

“Or you flashed your tight short skirt. Showed him all you’ve got. Pumped him up and let him down with a bloody nose and dislocated shoulder. That’s what it seems like to me.”

“Well you’ve got it all wrong,” she said looking him straight in the eyes having recovered some of her composure, “is that your official line?”

“It sure is and what’s more I’m thinking I should charge you for causing grievous bodily harm using an offensive weapon, namely yourself.”

“Now wait a minute Boss,” said the policewoman finally finding her voice, “at worst we need to keep an open mind and at best the guy should be looked at closely.”

“Don’t tell me what to do and how to do my job. This pretty little thing just sits here with her attitude, in her giving all away clothes, dangling her stuff and expects me to believe that she’s not giving out messages….”

“But Boss, every girl deserves protection. It doesn’t matter if they follow fashion trends. What they wear makes no differe…..”

“I’ve heard enough,” he said, “you’re clearly at fault with all your taunting ways.” Then standing up with that smile stuck on, he said, “you need to stand up so I can caution you.When she refused, he grabbed her arm and pulled her from the chair tearing her top some more and deliberately letting his hand brush indelicately over her. Then said in a firm, deliberate way, “you’re all the same you young girls. You wind us up then let us go. I’m charging you with aggravated assault.”

The detective touching her and standing there with his superior leering smirk was suddenly too much for her. Looking straight at that vile smile she punched him hard in the mouth then sat down crying with a sudden release of tension. The detective slumped back onto the sofa holding his face and a mess of shattered teeth and blood.

The policewoman moved over next to her, pulled a tape recorder from her pocket and clicked it off. Putting her arm around her, she said, “don’t worry I’ll get it sorted. He has a history of this. I saw him assault you verbally and physically. Remember that,” showing the tape player. “He won’t be bothering you anymore. Attitudes are slowly changing around here.”

 

 


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