Once Upon A Crime
by Bill Robertson
Genre: Humour
Swearwords: None.
Description: A twisted take on an old fairytale.
_____________________________________________________________________
‘So tell me again what happened?’ Henderson said putting down the phone.
Wolff rolled his eyes.
‘I already told you a dozen times,’ he said.
‘I know you did,’ Henderson said. ‘But I want to hear it again – just to check that I’ve got all the facts straight.’ He gave Wolff a disarming smile as if to say: I know this is ridiculous – but I’m just doing my job. ‘Indulge me.’
‘Okay, okay but after this either you charge me or let me go.’
‘It’s a deal.’
‘I was out for a walk in the forest, minding my own business…’
‘When was this exactly?’
Wolff shrugged. ‘Around eleven thirty, I guess. I’d been doing some bits and pieces around the house and was planning on going out and getting some lunch.’
‘I see. Carry on.’
‘So as I was walking I see this kid.’
‘Uh-huh. Can you describe them?’
‘About twelve or thirteen, I’d say, and wearing one of those sweaters with the hoods all the kids seem to have these days. She was carrying this wicker basket over one arm and looking a bit shifty. Well, you know how things have been on the estate lately. I heard the Three Bears’ place got done over a few weeks ago – somebody smashed their place up and even ate the food right off their table – can you believe that?’
Henderson shook his head. ‘It’s a crazy mixed up world we live in alright.’ He made a few notes on his pad. ‘So what did you do?’
‘Well, I’m a very community minded person, Mr Henderson – it was me that organised that benefit concert for the old woman who lives in the shoe and I’m always popping round to Mother Hubbard’s with a pot of soup so the old dear doesn’t starve.’
‘What was all that business with the Three Little Pigs all about?’
Wolff bristled. ‘That was just a big misunderstanding – we settled the matter amicably in the end and took out a joint case against the building firm that put those hovels up.’
Henderson raised his hands in a placatory gesture. ‘Just being thorough, Mr Wolff,’ he said.
‘Anyway, I goes over to the kid and I says “Where you off to then?” and she looks at me like something you’d scrape off your paw and says “none of your business, you big hairy git.”’ Wolff sighed. ‘Kids today eh? You ask a perfectly reasonable question and get a mouthful of abuse in return.’
‘Tell me about it,’ Henderson said. ‘I’ve got two teenagers at home – never pay a blind bit of attention to anything me or their mother tells them.’
‘Well, I wasn’t standing for being fobbed off so I asked her again and threatened to give you lads a call, so she finally gives in and gives me some cock and bull story about going to visit her old granny and that the basket has got some goodies in it for her. I’d finally gotten a good look at her by this time and I recognised her.’
‘And who was she?’
‘She’s one of those Riding kids. She’s got quite the name on the estate, I can tell you, hangs around with that Little Boy Blue’s gang – nasty piece of work him. He’s supposed to have been the one that shoved poor old Humpty Dumpty over and put him in the Infirmary. So anyway, alarm bells are ringing in my head. I know the granny’s a bit dotty, you see. So I tells her she best be running along. “Whatever, fuzz face,” she says. I tell you, Mr Henderson, it took all my self control not to give her a proper talking to at that point.’
‘Got a bit of a temper, have you, Mr Wolff?’ Henderson asked innocently.
‘Are you trying to put words in my mouth?’ Wolff said.
‘That’s not my intention, Mr Wolff – I just need to make sure that I’ve correctly established what was going on during this, uh, altercation. The girl does have a few bruises that need explaining.’
‘I never laid a finger on her, whatever she might have told you. My point is that nobody should have to put up with that kind of abuse. When I was a kid we had a bit of respect for grownups.
‘Anyway, I was going to carry on and get my lunch but I kept thinking about that poor old woman and her horrid brat of a granddaughter. I know a short cut through the estate, so I thought why don’t I pop over to granny’s house and check that everything’s ok? So that’s what I did.’
‘And what happened when you got to grandma’s house?’
‘Oh she’s such a lovely old dear, she invited me in for a cuppa and a chat and I told her about little Miss Riding Rude. “Oh I know,” she says. “She’s gone right off the rails since her mum and dad split up. What she needs is a good short sharp shock to turn her around.” Well, as I said, I’m a very community minded person so I says to grandma – look here, why don’t I help you out and maybe get my own back a little bit at the same time. Well she loved the idea, she dug out some old clothes from the back of her wardrobe that she was planning on giving to charity and I put them on and go climb into the bed while Grandma nips off down the bingo for the afternoon session. Pretty soon I hear a banging on the door – of course, it’s the little madam herself.’
‘“Hey grandma, open the flippin’ door and let me in, it’s bloody freezing out here,” she says.
‘“Come in my dear,” I says. “Door’s open.”
‘So in she comes. “Come a bit closer, luv,” I says, “my poor old eyes can’t see as good as they used to you know.”
‘You would’ve thought I’d asked her to jump under a bus or something – “Dunno why not, grandma, your eyes look pretty big to me.”
‘“That’s just my reading glasses,” I says, “They magnify things a bit – I think maybe I need to change my prescription. Come on and tell me what you’ve brought.”
‘Well sure enough the little brat had scoffed half the stuff she showed me in the forest. I was about to say something when she starts again.
‘“Jeez, Grandma, look at the state of your ears – you’ve got tons of hair growing out of them. We should get you one of those Fuzz Away gizmos for Christmas.”
‘“Listen dear,” I says. “You’ll be old and hairy as well one day and we’ll see if you’re so smart when the time comes. Anyway, come closer so your dear old granny can give you a kiss for bringing me a present.”
‘Did you kiss her?’ Henderson said.
Wolff looked aghast.
‘I most certainly did not,’ he said. ‘At that point she screws up her face and says, “Phew grandma, your breath is proper honking and your teeth look like they could use a good brush.”
‘That did it. Now I’m very particular about my personal grooming and I take good care of my teeth. I pulled off grandma’s bonnet and glasses and jumped out the bed.’
‘Did you touch her?’
‘On my mother, I never laid a finger on her. She tripped over a table and banged her face on a lamp. “Ha! That’ll teach you,” I said. Of course, that’s when the waterworks started.’
‘“That’s it,” she says. “I’m off to get my dad. I’m going to tell him you tried to touch me up, you furry freak. He’ll turn you into a nice rug for his flat.” And she scarpered off out the door.’
‘I see,’ said Henderson.
‘Well, I didn’t know what to do, Mr Henderson. I was only meant to be playing a little prank on the little rotter. I hadn’t meant for her to get hurt. Before I know what’s happening she comes back with her dad and half the estate shouting about how I’m some sort of cross-dressing pervert and how they should string me up from a lamp post.’ Wolff shook his head.
‘I can laugh about it now, Mr Henderson, but if your lads hadn’t shown up when they did I do believe you might have had a murder enquiry on your hands.’
Henderson silently agreed. He had read the statements from the arresting officers and Mr Wolff had been lucky the story had not had a grimmer conclusion. Apparently Riding Hood’s dad had been found with his hands around Wolff’s throat. It had taken a shot of taser before he would let go. An axe had also been found near the house. There were no useable prints on it, so the charge would probably be aggravated assault rather than attempted murder. The only loose end had been the whereabouts of Grandma whose whereabouts had been a mystery until his phone call a few minutes earlier.
‘Well, Mr Wolff, it would appear that today is your lucky day – one of our patrols called in to say that Grandma has been found. Apparently she won a few quid at the bingo and decided to get a few gins down her neck at the Derby and Joan club. She’s corroborated your story about colluding with you to play a prank on the kid to teach her a lesson.’
Wolff gave a sigh of relief. ‘Oh thank god for that. Does that mean I can go home now?’
Henderson pushed over his statement pad to Wolff. ‘I’ll just need you to sign this and then you’ll be free to go.’
Wolff left the station with an escort – it would take a few days for the furore to die down on the estate. Windows had been smashed and someone had already spray-painted the words “paedo” and “beast” on the gable of Wolff’s house.
‘All’s well that ends well then, Guv?’ Constable Watson said as he left the custody suite. He was holding a case file in his hands. Once upon a time this had been a fairly easy patch to manage but these days the Fairy Tale Forest estate was a hot-bed of criminal activity.
‘A happy ending this time,’ Henderson agreed. ‘What have you go for me there?’
‘Local cobbler says some elves are trying to run a protection racket on him.’
Henderson took the folder, ready to begin another story.
Swearwords: None.
Description: A twisted take on an old fairytale.
_____________________________________________________________________
‘So tell me again what happened?’ Henderson said putting down the phone.
Wolff rolled his eyes.
‘I already told you a dozen times,’ he said.
‘I know you did,’ Henderson said. ‘But I want to hear it again – just to check that I’ve got all the facts straight.’ He gave Wolff a disarming smile as if to say: I know this is ridiculous – but I’m just doing my job. ‘Indulge me.’
‘Okay, okay but after this either you charge me or let me go.’
‘It’s a deal.’
‘I was out for a walk in the forest, minding my own business…’
‘When was this exactly?’
Wolff shrugged. ‘Around eleven thirty, I guess. I’d been doing some bits and pieces around the house and was planning on going out and getting some lunch.’
‘I see. Carry on.’
‘So as I was walking I see this kid.’
‘Uh-huh. Can you describe them?’
‘About twelve or thirteen, I’d say, and wearing one of those sweaters with the hoods all the kids seem to have these days. She was carrying this wicker basket over one arm and looking a bit shifty. Well, you know how things have been on the estate lately. I heard the Three Bears’ place got done over a few weeks ago – somebody smashed their place up and even ate the food right off their table – can you believe that?’
Henderson shook his head. ‘It’s a crazy mixed up world we live in alright.’ He made a few notes on his pad. ‘So what did you do?’
‘Well, I’m a very community minded person, Mr Henderson – it was me that organised that benefit concert for the old woman who lives in the shoe and I’m always popping round to Mother Hubbard’s with a pot of soup so the old dear doesn’t starve.’
‘What was all that business with the Three Little Pigs all about?’
Wolff bristled. ‘That was just a big misunderstanding – we settled the matter amicably in the end and took out a joint case against the building firm that put those hovels up.’
Henderson raised his hands in a placatory gesture. ‘Just being thorough, Mr Wolff,’ he said.
‘Anyway, I goes over to the kid and I says “Where you off to then?” and she looks at me like something you’d scrape off your paw and says “none of your business, you big hairy git.”’ Wolff sighed. ‘Kids today eh? You ask a perfectly reasonable question and get a mouthful of abuse in return.’
‘Tell me about it,’ Henderson said. ‘I’ve got two teenagers at home – never pay a blind bit of attention to anything me or their mother tells them.’
‘Well, I wasn’t standing for being fobbed off so I asked her again and threatened to give you lads a call, so she finally gives in and gives me some cock and bull story about going to visit her old granny and that the basket has got some goodies in it for her. I’d finally gotten a good look at her by this time and I recognised her.’
‘And who was she?’
‘She’s one of those Riding kids. She’s got quite the name on the estate, I can tell you, hangs around with that Little Boy Blue’s gang – nasty piece of work him. He’s supposed to have been the one that shoved poor old Humpty Dumpty over and put him in the Infirmary. So anyway, alarm bells are ringing in my head. I know the granny’s a bit dotty, you see. So I tells her she best be running along. “Whatever, fuzz face,” she says. I tell you, Mr Henderson, it took all my self control not to give her a proper talking to at that point.’
‘Got a bit of a temper, have you, Mr Wolff?’ Henderson asked innocently.
‘Are you trying to put words in my mouth?’ Wolff said.
‘That’s not my intention, Mr Wolff – I just need to make sure that I’ve correctly established what was going on during this, uh, altercation. The girl does have a few bruises that need explaining.’
‘I never laid a finger on her, whatever she might have told you. My point is that nobody should have to put up with that kind of abuse. When I was a kid we had a bit of respect for grownups.
‘Anyway, I was going to carry on and get my lunch but I kept thinking about that poor old woman and her horrid brat of a granddaughter. I know a short cut through the estate, so I thought why don’t I pop over to granny’s house and check that everything’s ok? So that’s what I did.’
‘And what happened when you got to grandma’s house?’
‘Oh she’s such a lovely old dear, she invited me in for a cuppa and a chat and I told her about little Miss Riding Rude. “Oh I know,” she says. “She’s gone right off the rails since her mum and dad split up. What she needs is a good short sharp shock to turn her around.” Well, as I said, I’m a very community minded person so I says to grandma – look here, why don’t I help you out and maybe get my own back a little bit at the same time. Well she loved the idea, she dug out some old clothes from the back of her wardrobe that she was planning on giving to charity and I put them on and go climb into the bed while Grandma nips off down the bingo for the afternoon session. Pretty soon I hear a banging on the door – of course, it’s the little madam herself.’
‘“Hey grandma, open the flippin’ door and let me in, it’s bloody freezing out here,” she says.
‘“Come in my dear,” I says. “Door’s open.”
‘So in she comes. “Come a bit closer, luv,” I says, “my poor old eyes can’t see as good as they used to you know.”
‘You would’ve thought I’d asked her to jump under a bus or something – “Dunno why not, grandma, your eyes look pretty big to me.”
‘“That’s just my reading glasses,” I says, “They magnify things a bit – I think maybe I need to change my prescription. Come on and tell me what you’ve brought.”
‘Well sure enough the little brat had scoffed half the stuff she showed me in the forest. I was about to say something when she starts again.
‘“Jeez, Grandma, look at the state of your ears – you’ve got tons of hair growing out of them. We should get you one of those Fuzz Away gizmos for Christmas.”
‘“Listen dear,” I says. “You’ll be old and hairy as well one day and we’ll see if you’re so smart when the time comes. Anyway, come closer so your dear old granny can give you a kiss for bringing me a present.”
‘Did you kiss her?’ Henderson said.
Wolff looked aghast.
‘I most certainly did not,’ he said. ‘At that point she screws up her face and says, “Phew grandma, your breath is proper honking and your teeth look like they could use a good brush.”
‘That did it. Now I’m very particular about my personal grooming and I take good care of my teeth. I pulled off grandma’s bonnet and glasses and jumped out the bed.’
‘Did you touch her?’
‘On my mother, I never laid a finger on her. She tripped over a table and banged her face on a lamp. “Ha! That’ll teach you,” I said. Of course, that’s when the waterworks started.’
‘“That’s it,” she says. “I’m off to get my dad. I’m going to tell him you tried to touch me up, you furry freak. He’ll turn you into a nice rug for his flat.” And she scarpered off out the door.’
‘I see,’ said Henderson.
‘Well, I didn’t know what to do, Mr Henderson. I was only meant to be playing a little prank on the little rotter. I hadn’t meant for her to get hurt. Before I know what’s happening she comes back with her dad and half the estate shouting about how I’m some sort of cross-dressing pervert and how they should string me up from a lamp post.’ Wolff shook his head.
‘I can laugh about it now, Mr Henderson, but if your lads hadn’t shown up when they did I do believe you might have had a murder enquiry on your hands.’
Henderson silently agreed. He had read the statements from the arresting officers and Mr Wolff had been lucky the story had not had a grimmer conclusion. Apparently Riding Hood’s dad had been found with his hands around Wolff’s throat. It had taken a shot of taser before he would let go. An axe had also been found near the house. There were no useable prints on it, so the charge would probably be aggravated assault rather than attempted murder. The only loose end had been the whereabouts of Grandma whose whereabouts had been a mystery until his phone call a few minutes earlier.
‘Well, Mr Wolff, it would appear that today is your lucky day – one of our patrols called in to say that Grandma has been found. Apparently she won a few quid at the bingo and decided to get a few gins down her neck at the Derby and Joan club. She’s corroborated your story about colluding with you to play a prank on the kid to teach her a lesson.’
Wolff gave a sigh of relief. ‘Oh thank god for that. Does that mean I can go home now?’
Henderson pushed over his statement pad to Wolff. ‘I’ll just need you to sign this and then you’ll be free to go.’
Wolff left the station with an escort – it would take a few days for the furore to die down on the estate. Windows had been smashed and someone had already spray-painted the words “paedo” and “beast” on the gable of Wolff’s house.
‘All’s well that ends well then, Guv?’ Constable Watson said as he left the custody suite. He was holding a case file in his hands. Once upon a time this had been a fairly easy patch to manage but these days the Fairy Tale Forest estate was a hot-bed of criminal activity.
‘A happy ending this time,’ Henderson agreed. ‘What have you go for me there?’
‘Local cobbler says some elves are trying to run a protection racket on him.’
Henderson took the folder, ready to begin another story.
About the Author
Born in Perth and now living just outside Aberdeen, Bill Robertson has created a large body of work showcasing a tendency towards the darker side of life and stories which leave an indelible impression on the reader long after the final word is read.
An active member of Aberdeen’s Lemon Tree Writer’s Group, Bill’s work has appeared in Journeys, an anthology of work from the group, and most recently in a chapbook, Himself by the Seaside. He has performed some of his stories as part of the Word and New Words festivals and other events around the north-east. He has also self published two e-books: Reindeer Dust, a short Christmas story, and When the Revolution Comes, a collection of linked short stories concerning an uprising in a fictional eastern European country. A number of his stories have featured on the website http://www.shortbreadstories.co.uk, where he has been chosen as the featured Friday story a number of times and has won a number of competitions with his short stories and flash fiction pieces.
If you would like to hear an interview with Bill and listen to him read some of his work, please go to this link to hear Bill’s appearance on Mearns FM's Smith on Sunday show. You can also keep up to date with Bill’s work by visiting http://www.billrobertson55.wordpress.com, where he often shares work in progress as well as finished stories.
An active member of Aberdeen’s Lemon Tree Writer’s Group, Bill’s work has appeared in Journeys, an anthology of work from the group, and most recently in a chapbook, Himself by the Seaside. He has performed some of his stories as part of the Word and New Words festivals and other events around the north-east. He has also self published two e-books: Reindeer Dust, a short Christmas story, and When the Revolution Comes, a collection of linked short stories concerning an uprising in a fictional eastern European country. A number of his stories have featured on the website http://www.shortbreadstories.co.uk, where he has been chosen as the featured Friday story a number of times and has won a number of competitions with his short stories and flash fiction pieces.
If you would like to hear an interview with Bill and listen to him read some of his work, please go to this link to hear Bill’s appearance on Mearns FM's Smith on Sunday show. You can also keep up to date with Bill’s work by visiting http://www.billrobertson55.wordpress.com, where he often shares work in progress as well as finished stories.