Throughout his career Ben Alexander believed in treating all members of the public with the same degree of respect that he expected them to show to him. He demanded no less from the officers under his command; otherwise they might find themselves invited for a ‘quiet word.’

‘Painstaking’, ‘pedantic’, ‘cautious’, were all words which had been applied to him in his annual reports and Alexander would not have regarded these terms as being in any sense critical. His experience had taught him that more crimes were solved by wearing out shoe leather than by Holmesean deduction. He also believed that every man should stick to his trade.

In police forces everywhere, there exists a long standing rivalry between the suits and the uniforms. One lot are flash bastards, the others are woodentops. Alexander had no time for the age-old clichés. In any inquiry, he would play his part, however small, to the best of his ability, and he expected everyone else to do the same. The philosophy was simple, but effective.

He had been out on a routine mobile patrol when he received a radio message about the shooting. He was only two minutes away from the scene and on his arrival a cursory glance into the car told him he had come upon a murder scene. He recognised the car and what remained of the head of Kevin Boyle. The paramedics arrived shortly after him, but they too quickly realised that their part in matters would be a purely formal one.

Alexander secured the scene then sent for a photographer, scenes of crime officers, a police casualty surgeon, forensic scientists and the CID.

‘Morning, sir. It is Kevin Boyle. The doc’s been sent for to confirm death. I think you’ll find that he’s been shot. The photographer has arrived and is taking some general views, but no one has been near the car since I got here. Socos are on their way. There are empty cartridge cases on the road. One of my men is standing beside them. It’s all yours, sir.’

Grant McAllister smiled thinly. ‘Typical Ben Alexander,’ he thought. ‘Canny soul, does everything by the book and commits himself to absolutely nothing.’

‘Thanks, Ben. We’ll take a look. See if you can get the spectators back a bit. They’re an audience, I can live without.’

As Alexander turned away to do as requested, McAllister could see that the sergeant was pained that the scene had been other than perfect for the arrival of the investigating team.

‘Oh, and Ben, I’d like a private word before I leave. This is your patch after all. I’d appreciate your help.’