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Welcome to Bellechester

By Margaret A. Blenkush

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Friday, August 28, 1959

Chapter 1 Will’s Promotion
Detective Inspector William Francis Donnelly walked out of the interrogation room with a pile of manila folders under his arm. “Another confession!” The young detective sent to observe Will’s interrogation techniques was close at his heels. “How did you know to use a soft touch on this lad?”
“You get a feel for the demeanor of the accused. This teen was no hardened criminal. Just looking into his eyes, you could see how terrified he was of his surroundings and his situation. A sympathetic ear was all that was needed.”
“Sir, if you don’t mind, I want to get to my desk so I can copy my notes. I want to remember every word.”
“You go right ahead.”
The young detective walked ahead down the hallway to the Met’s Crime Against Property Division. Will smiled to himself. Was I ever that eager? Unlike his mentee, Will was not ready to go back into the office quite yet. He exchanged greetings with the officers he passed. He stopped at the large bulletin board outside the station commander’s office. There was a large bare space where the promotions list should have been. Will shook his head, turned, and slowly walked back to the division, enjoying a few more minutes of the cooler hallway air before weaving his way through the maze of desks back to his own. He plopped his large stack of folders down. “Whew! Feels like an oven in here. When is this heat wave supposed to break?”
Inspector Trevor Jones, whose desk faced Will’s, looked up from his work. “Thunderstorms possible tonight. Say, how did the interrogation go?”
“It was a doddle. The kid was out with his mates trying to impress a girl. He took a convertible parked outside a shop with the keys left in the ignition. Simple crime of opportunity. I still think we should’ve arrested the owner of the car too.”
“On what charge?”
“Stupidity.”
Trevor raised an eyebrow. “If stupidity were a crime, we wouldn’t have enough nicks.”
Will removed his jacket and carefully hung it over the back of his chair. Before he sat down, he loosened his tie, unbuttoned his cuffs, and rolled his sleeves past his elbow.
The day’s heat intensified over the afternoon. The minutes dragged by. Large fans in the corners of the room provided no relief. They only seemed to blow the hot air around, making the blue swirls of cigarette smoke dance above the officers’ heads. The usual smell of the room was overpowered by the body odor of twelve overheating officers. Will tried his best to continue his work despite the distractions.
“Will! Will! I think this is it.”
Will looked over to Trevor. “What?”
“I think the promotion list arrived. Although the officer who went into the super’s office didn’t look like one of ours. That’s strange.”
“If the officer didn’t look like one of ours, then he is most likely seeing the super about another matter.”
“Aren’t you anxious to know if you made the list?”
“I am sure the super will announce it when it comes through. He won’t keep us in suspense any longer than necessary.”
“How can you be so cool?”
“No one can be cool on a day like this,” Will said as he pulled his shirt away from his body. “No, I am a realist. I know that I don’t stand a chance this time. The chair of the interview committee told me that they never had anyone as young as me apply for the position. That was as good as saying that I would not be considered, and to try again next time. I wish they would post the results so it would be official.”
“I bet they say discouraging things to all the applicants so as not to tip their hand. Besides, I don’t think thirty-two is so young. You are practically middle aged,” Trevor quipped.
“Trevor, I really need to get this report done today. Tomorrow is the big rugby match, and I don’t want this report hanging over my head all weekend.” Will reached for his coffee mug, which was filled instead with cold water.
“The kids are excited to see their Uncle Will play tomorrow. Doreen is looking forward to your match too. It will give her the afternoon off so she can have lunch with her girlfriends.”
“Then let me finish my work.”
“Why don’t you let your junior do the reports? We all do it. Good practice for the lads. Besides, delegating tasks shows leadership.”
“Is that what you tell yourselves? Everyone knows you lot hate writing reports. I prefer to do my own, thank you.” Will waved his pencil. “Now, don’t you have some work of your own to do?”
“All right, all right! I’ll let you get on.” Trevor laughed in good-natured defeat and returned to his papers.
“I would appreciate that.” Will reached for his cup but found it empty. He wound his way to the break room. The large clock on the wall read 3:24 p.m. Only six minutes had passed since he had last checked the time. A drink of cold water revived his spirits and cleared his head.
Trevor reached across his desk to answer Will’s phone. “Superintendent Billingsby wants to see you. Maybe it’s news about the promotion. Good luck,” he said when Will returned.
“Thanks, Trevor. Sorry I’ve been irritable today.”
“Ah, forget it.”
Will unfurled his sleeves and buttoned the cuffs. He slipped his suit coat over his once-crisp white shirt, now limp with perspiration, and navigated quickly through the maze of desks. He paused outside Superintendent Billingsby’s office. Will tugged at his sleeves one last time and adjusted the knot of his tie. A deep baritone voice responded to his knock: “Come in! Ah yes, Donnelly,” he said as Will entered. “Come in, come in.”
Superintendent Billingsby was a large, barrel-chested man in his early sixties. An able administrator, he ran his department with a tight rein and velvet glove. His suit jacket and tie hung on the coat tree in the corner of his office. A small oscillating fan on the bookcase in the opposite corner fluttered the papers on his desk. Superintendent Billingsby, shirt sleeves rolled up and collar open, turned to the officer standing beside him. “Chief Superintendent Williamson, I would like to introduce Detective Inspector William Donnelly.”
Even on this sweltering day, Chief Superintendent Williamson showed no discomfort wearing his full uniform. Will admired his cool, reserved manner. He shook Will’s hand with a firm grip. “Very pleased to meet you, Inspector. Superintendent Billingsby has been telling me wonderful things about you. Highest conviction rate in the department!”
“Very pleased to meet you too. Thank you for the compliment, but I don’t work alone. We have a crack team of detectives in this division.”
“Here, let’s all sit down.” Superintendent Billingsby motioned toward the table and chairs in the corner of the room.
Chief Superintendent Williamson opened his black briefcase and set several papers in front of him. Will eased his six-foot two-inch frame into the chair opposite Williamson. Superintendent Billingsby reached for a pitcher of ice water that sat in the middle of the table. Streams of condensation had run down the sides of the pitcher, creating a pool of water at its base. After providing everyone refreshment, Billingsby turned to Will. “Earlier today, I received a call from the chair of the promotions board. As you know, there were only three chief inspector positions open here at the Met. I regret to inform you that the positions were offered to officers who had more seniority than you. I am sorry.”
As disappointing as the news was for Will, he was glad to finally receive an answer. He was about to utter a sigh of relief when he felt the steady gaze of Chief Superintendent Williamson upon him. At that moment, Will’s years of military training kicked in. Whatever he was feeling on the inside, he made sure the expres- sion on his face never changed. “That is quite all right, sir. I knew it was a long shot. But I am glad to have had the experience of the exam and the interview. Thank you for telling me. I will leave you to your meeting. Very nice to have met you, Chief Superintendent Williamson.” Will rose and again shook the chief superintendent’s hand.
Chief Superintendent Williamson was surprised by Will’s move but uttered no response.
“Donnelly, where are you going?”
“I should get back to work, sir. I still have a report to finish before I leave today.”
“But Inspector,” Superintendent Billingsby continued, “You are not dismissed. I have not yet finished. Please,” he said and motioned to the empty chair, “sit down.”
“Yes, sir. So sorry, sir,” This time it was not the heat that gave Will’s cheeks a warm glow of color. Reaching for his glass, he took a large swig of water.
Superintendent Billingsby chuckled. “That’s better. You young people today are always in such a hurry. The chief superintendent and I have a few questions for you.”
“Inspector, where do you see yourself in five years?”
Will answered the chief without hesitation. “In my years of serving with the Royal Military Police, I discovered I enjoyed police work. I still find it a privilege to assist people who find themselves in tough situations. I intend to make police work my career. I am happy to serve in whatever capacity best reflects my abilities and training.”
Chief Superintendent Williamson pointed at the paper in front of him. “I see on your resume you were a member of the Royal Military Police for twelve years. Why did you leave?”
“I joined the military right from school in ’43. Because of my interest in police work, they assigned me to the Royal Military Police. During the war, I guarded our ports here at home. After the war, I was transferred to the special investigation branch, which took me to India, Germany, and Korea. As I reached my late twenties, I had seen enough of the world. I wanted to come home and put down some roots.”
Superintendent Billingsby asked, “Now, where is your hometown again? I know you are not a native Londoner.”
“You are correct, sir. I was born and raised in the town of Preston, Lancashire,” Will said.
Chief Superintendent Williamson asked, “How long have you lived in London? Do you like living here? Is this where you envisioned settling down?”
“I have lived in London since I joined the Met in 1955. London can be an expensive place to live, but it also has a lot to offer. Overall, London is a great city. I don’t mind living here. But when I start a family, I would prefer to live in a smaller community, more like Preston—less traffic and cleaner air.”
Chief Superintendent Williamson asked, “Do you have any ties that would keep you in London? What about your wife? Does she like living in London?”
Will shifted uneasily in his chair and took another sip of water. “I am not married and have no serious girlfriend at the present time. Currently, my only tie to London is my rugby club.”
“Ah, rugby,” Chief Superintendent Williamson said with a smile. “Great sport. The only true English sport. How did your club fare this past season?”
Will began to relax and let his professional guard down. “I play with the Met Pips. We had a good season last year and finished third in the city’s amateur adult league. Saturday, we play in the Rover Cup’s semifinal match.”
“Isn’t it a bit early to be playing rugby?” Chief Superintendent Williamson asked as he reached for his glass of water.
Superintendent Billingsby explained, “The Rover Cup kicks off the amateur club rugby season here in London. The top eight teams from last year’s city standings compete for the cup. It is quite the tournament, second only to the city championship which occurs in the spring. We are very proud of our team around here, Chief Superintendent. I do believe we could go all the way this year.”
“I wish your team the best of luck,” Chief Superintendent Williamson said.
“Thank you, sir,” Will said.
“Do you have any more questions for Inspector Donnelly?” Superintendent Billingsby asked. “No, I am satisfied,” Chief Superintendent Williamson replied.
“Good.” He turned to Will. “Inspector, we shan’t keep you in the dark any longer. Our promotions board feels you are ready to become a chief inspector. However, because of your low seniority, you would have to wait a long time for promotion here at the Met. They believe you would have a better chance in another jurisdiction.”
“Sirs, am I being transferred?”
Superintendent Billingsby chuckled. “Only if you want to be.”
“Let me clear up your confusion, Inspector,” Chief Superintendent Williamson interjected. “My county of Shropshire does not have the resources to conduct a thorough search for candidates to fill senior positions on our police force. We have a unique arrangement with the Met. Any of our officers who wish to be considered for promotion go through the Met’s process. Then the board shares with us the exam results and the interview notes on our candidates as well as those who were not chosen for promotion here at the Met. Our deputy chief constables and local police board review the information and make their selections. My superior, Deputy Chief Constable Lawson, sent me to conduct the final interview. How would you feel about living in a village out in the country, Inspector?” Chief Superintendent Williamson asked.
Superintendent Billingsby quipped, “That would satisfy your conditions of settling in a smaller town with less traffic and cleaner air.”
Will smiled. “Yes, yes it would. Chief Superintendent Williamson, I have no objections to living out in the country. It would be a nice change of pace from London.”
“Very glad to hear that. Inspector Donnelly, there is nothing left for me to do but offer you a chief inspector position in the County of Shropshire. You would be responsible for the village of Bellechester and several smaller constabularies. Your jurisdiction would cover roughly one hundred square miles in the southwestern part of the county. You would report directly to me. Take time to think about it. I am not expecting an answer today. Take a drive and check out Bellechester if you like. I just need your answer by 9:00 a.m. Monday.”
The only sound in the office was the whirring of the fan. Will took another sip of water before he replied. “Thank you, Chief Superintendent, but I do not need the weekend to think about it. I would be honored to accept the position and work under your command. I only hope I can justify the faith you and the deputy chief constables have placed in me.”
“Excellent. Glad to hear it. You have two orders. The first is to implement the new national police standards in your area. I have all that information right here," Chief Williamson said. He opened his briefcase and handed Will a stack of file folders.
“Thank you, sir. I will look them over this weekend,” Will said.
Then Chief Superintendent Williamson handed Will a thicker stack of folders. “And there is another, more serious matter that needs your immediate attention. Recently, several jewel robberies targeting the wealthier citizens in the county have occurred. The victims have been applying pressure on me and my superiors to get these crimes solved. The deputy chief constables believe that with the success you have had here at the Met, you are our best hope to solve these cases. Your appointment as chief inspector gives us the perfect opportunity to catch them.”
“How do you mean, sir?”
“Do you know Lady Beatrice Brantwell?”
“No, I can’t say that I have had that pleasure.”
Chief Superintendent Williamson continued, “I served under her husband, Lord Geoffrey Brantwell, in the Second World War. Fine chap. They have an estate outside Bellechester. As the most influential couple in the area, they have graciously offered to host a gala to introduce the new chief inspector to the local citizenry. Lady Brantwell’s parties are legendary and not to be missed. It will be the social event of the season in our part of the county. It will also be the perfect cover to trap the jewel thieves.” He paused for a moment and then asked, “You do own a full mess dress, I presume?”
Will thought, Are you kidding? On a detective’s salary? But he said, “No, sir. But I will be sure to purchase one.”
“Excellent. As the highest-ranking officer in southwestern Shropshire, you will often be called upon to represent the police force at local ceremonial functions. The villagers expect to see you in your finery at these events. It shows respect and it gains respect. Maintaining good public relations is part of your job description. A very important part.”
“Yes, sir, I understand. I will do my best.”
“I know you will. You seem to be a bright chap. Your official installation as chief inspector will take place at the gala. Be sure to send your guest list to Lady Brantwell. Since you don’t have a local residence yet, she will be sending your invitation to the precinct. Watch for it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Because your appointment requires you to relocate, you will be granted two weeks’ leave. That should be enough time to get yourself settled in Bellechester.”
“Thank you, sir. That is very generous.”
“Come see me at my office in Ludlow at 9:00 a.m. on Tuesday, September 15, and we will get you squared away. I am afraid your morning will be spent filling out paperwork and getting your warrant card. In the afternoon, we will travel to Shrewsbury, where we will meet with Chief Constable Scott and Deputy Chief Constable Lawson.”
“Very good, sir. I look forward to meeting them.”
“Before I go, do you have any questions for me?”
“Right now, I cannot think of any.”
“Here is my card. If you should think of any questions later, please do not hesitate to call. Now if you’ll excuse me, I shall take my leave.” The men stood. Chief Superintendent Williamson shook Superintendent Billingsby’s hand.
“Very nice to have met you, Superintendent Billingsby. Sorry to be taking your best detective.”
“Good to meet you too. Inspector Donnelly will be missed, make no mistake. But I am glad to have given the lad his start in civilian police work. I know he will work as hard for you as he has for me.”
Chief Superintendent Williamson shook Will’s hand. “Glad to have you on my team, Donnelly.”
“I look forward to working with you, sir.”
Chief Superintendent Williamson gathered up his briefcase and left the office.
Superintendent Billingsby turned to Will. “Aren’t you glad you decided to stay for the rest of the meeting?”
“Yes, I am. Thank you, sir, for your kind words. I only hope I can be as good a supervisor as you. I have learned a lot from you and have enjoyed my time working in this division.”
“I meant what I said. I am going to miss you, Donnelly. You are a fine detective. And I know you will make a splendid chief inspector. Chief Superintendent Williamson is fortunate to have you.”
“Thank you, sir. Do you want me to turn in my warrant card before I leave today?”
“No, no, you hang onto it until after the rugby tournament is over. In case the Pips make the finals, I don’t want you disqualified because you can’t prove you are one of us. No, no, Chief Superintendent Williamson isn’t going to take you from us until after the Rover Cup. I made sureof that,” Superintendent Billingsby said with a wink. “You are too valuable to our team.”
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate you letting me finish the tournament with my teammates.”
As they walked out of the office together, Superintendent Billingsby slapped Will on the back. “Now the only thing left to do is announce your new appointment to the men.”
“That and for me to finish my report,” Will said.

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