19centconstable | Case #1: Video

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Case #1: Video

[The video screen is navy blue and slightly blurry. From off-screen a man speaks. He has an accent which, if you are familiar with such things, is easily identifiable as being from Newfoundland. If you are not so in the know, you may think it is Irish. Or British. Or fake. He declares:]

I...believe this device and I have reached an understanding...

[The expanse of navy moves back. You have been looking at a close up of the man's policeman uniform. Now it is visible from neck to about mid-thigh in all its old-fashioned, high-collared, many buttoned glory. Because while the device and George may have come to an understanding, George does not understand how to frame a shot.]

Well. I-...oh.

[As a sort of after thought, he reaches up out of frame. When his hands appear again they are holding his navy blue custodian helmet, which has a silver colored maple leaf on the front. He rests the helmet against his hip.]

I'm Constable George Crabtree, Toronto Constabulary, station #4, and I'm very pleased to be here and meet all of you. ...Although I suppose I haven't done that yet. But I'm sure I'll be pleased when I do!

I've seen an airship before, but I've never been on one...that I can remember. But it's really an experience; much smoother than being on a boat. I don't get seasick myself, but I have an aunt who can't stomach travel like that in the slightest. Just.

[Vomit-y hand motion.]

All over.

Anyway. I'm very impressed by this whole business! This "thingy" here.

[He shakes the communicator.]

But! Especially-

[And then everything is a blur as George, communicator in hand, is moving through his room. When he stops, you are greeted with a lovely shot of: a toilet. The sort with a wall mounted tank and pull chain. Then George turns the camera back on himself, and manages to actually aim it at his excitedly grinning face. He hooks a thumb in the toilet's direction.]

Now that's fantastic! Did everybody get one?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You don't... sound that Canadian

Nice to meet you, Constable. I'm Sergeant Neil Howie, West Highland Police.

Can I ask what year you're from? I hate to spoil things for you, but most of us are quite used to having one of, um, those.

Really?

It's a pleasure to meet you as well, sir. I'm from 1897, but I don't mind at all hearing about modern things. In fact, we're very modern ourselves at our station. Our detective reads.

I've read about WC's, but only the very rich can afford them, and they don't often invite the public in to look at them, I'm afraid.

You don't have to call me sir, Constable. We're not on duty here, and I'm not your sergeant.

1897? I'm from 1973. There's all sorts of people from all sorts of times around here. I imagine it takes some getting used to. WCs are pretty common in most of the 20th century, though.

It's always important to have a detective that reads. They're so very rare. [a little deadpan.]

Thank you, si-...much appreciated. And you can call me George; everyone does.

Are they really? I'll certainly look forward to that.

Terribly so. [George is not at all deadpan.] Most of the other stations don't even take fingermarks. They still think they might change as a person touches things, even though they've done hundreds of tests on the subject.

Alright, and you can call me Neil.

Really? Well, by my time, we do it as standard, and it's one of the most important things in getting evidence from a scene. So... I'm glad you stuck with it and set a trend there.

Oh, I can't take the credit. Our Detective Murdoch is the one who's always coming up with new techniques. On my training day they only had me do a test for vigorousness and made sure I knew which end of the gun to point at the other fellow. But I have given it a shoot, though. There was this time the Detective and I were investigating at a doxie's boudoir, really fancy place, and she had a set-up that took photographs through a mirror, so as to blackmail her clients. One side of the mirror was as reflective as anything, but you could see straight through the other like a window. Well I thought that'd be awfully handy in an interrogation room, because the suspect wouldn't know if we were watching him or not, and he might let things slip, and also witnesses might come forward more often if they were sure they couldn't be seen when identifying. But our Inspector said it would be too expensive to put something like that in, and that anyway standing around a corner with a hand-mirror worked just fine, and I suppose he's right.

[pause. trying to follow.]

That's... also not a bad idea. But isn't even done much where I'm from. I've heard of... the Met having that kind of thing, but it's really unusual. So it sounds like you and your detective were well ahead of your time.

You've got a gun, then?

Well, yes, thank you sir.

[George beams...humbly. He has that power.]

No. Well, in the armory, yes, but we only carry the baton on duty.

You're welcome and... [sigh, he's not correcting the sir again.]

[Howie nods slightly in approval,]

Ah, good. We don't carry guns on duty either. There's a lot of people who do around here, though, just so you're aware.

[He'll manage to call people by their first names eventually.]

I don't have anything against them, but I've never quite understood the attachment to them some people have. I worked with a detective from another station who was never without his rifle. He even named it Betsy.

...Or was it the dog he named Betsy, and the rifle Betty? Either way, he seemed equally fond of both. I prefer dogs, personally.

Me neither. To be honest, I'm so used to working without them it constantly surprises me how many people have them and how much they use them.

...I really do prefer dogs, and naming a rifle is a little disturbing, really. Especially naming it after a woman.

I suppose it's better than naming a bicycle after one.

Yes. That'd be... a little inappropriate. I knew someone who once named their fishing rod Maggie, but... again, better than a bike.

Now that's very strange. I wouldn't think of a fishing rod as feminine at all.

I wouldn't really think of a gun as feminine either, to be honest.

I could understand a gun. They can be very sensitive, and a man can feel comforted by having one by his side. And I suppose some of them do curve in enticing ways.

But a fishing rod just gets you fish.

... well, the constable did like to relax with nothing but his fishing rod and a loch.

Mostly when he was supposed to be working, but that's another story.

A familiar one, though. Not at our station: the Inspector wouldn't stand for it, but you hear things down at the pub.

I tried not to stand for it, but my constable was twice my age. And... did just as little work when he was at work than when he was fishing.

[he pauses, as he actually likes the guy.]

Not that he was all that bad really. He didn't let you down often.

How did he manage not to let you down without doing his job?

Because he did his job when it counted. If you called for back up, he'd be there.

But if it's a Sunday and the most exciting thing that's happening is that Mrs MacDougal has lost her purse again... he'll be making tea and taking great interest in the football scores.

Tea is a very important part of the job. There are lads around the station I wouldn't trust with a kettle at all.

Tea is a vital part of any police work, and it has to be made correctly, or anarchy will break loose.

Too right.

Although have you tried this coffee stuff? It's got a funny taste at first, but after a few cups you really come to like it. I had six cups one after the other once. I can't...recommend doing that, actually.

I... do like coffee, but not as much as tea. Six is a bit excessive, yes.

What happened?

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this is voice, btw. and he is so obviously scottish. XP

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