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A mere four years after reaching the rank of sergeant, Jonah successfully applied for an inspector’s post in South Oxfordshire. It was more convenient geographically for him, now that Margaret had a consultant post in Reading, as well as being a step up. From my point of view, it meant that we no longer worked together on a daily basis. Occasionally our paths would cross – criminals have no respect for police service divisional boundaries! – but it was rare and more likely to involve telephone conversations than meeting face to face.
Things settled down into a comfortable routine. Richard continued to be a very hands-on detective and I continued to learn a lot from him. Jonah continued to cover himself in glory in his new role. We would sometimes hear about his exploits and Richard would smile with quiet satisfaction at the thought that he had been responsible for spotting him and bringing him on. I fully expected him to be made a DCI any moment and had visions of eventually having him as my Chief Constable!
I just about managed to scrape through the inspector’s exams before Jonah got his DCI post. Richard said that he was delighted at my promotion, but I couldn’t help feeling that his congratulations were a bit muted compared with when Jonah moved up from sergeant. I rather fancy he may have thought that I wasn’t really inspector material and would do better continuing in a more junior role. I have to say I wasn’t sure myself if I was up to being in charge of an investigation. Angie told me that it was just that Richard would have liked to keep me as his assistant and was worrying about where he was going to find another decent detective sergeant. Of course, she was just trying to boost my confidence.
Jonah sent a very nice card congratulating me on my promotion – at least I think that’s what it said! His handwriting was always impossible to decipher. We used to joke that he must have caught the knack for illegible handwriting from his wife, doctors being notorious for their untidy scrawls. It was good of him to take an interest – even if it did also serve to remind me that it had taken me twenty years to achieve what he had managed in eight. Of course, it was my own fault for being so diffident about putting myself forward, so I can’t complain. If Richard hadn’t pushed me, I’d probably have still been a sergeant when I retired.
I have to admit that I enjoyed the additional independence that being an inspector brought me – but I was glad that Richard was still there in the background to give me advice. He was still moving on an upward trajectory himself. When he became superintendent, it crossed my mind that maybe he’d got wind of his likely promotion and pressed me to take the inspector’s exams to make sure I had somewhere to go when he moved on.
When one of Bernie’s students looked to have hanged himself from the staircase of his college room, I happened to be the officer called to the scene. I rang Richard and told him about it before setting off and, to my surprise, he decided to cone along too. I wonder if something in my tone of voice made him realise that there was something special about this call. I was very nervous of being the one in charge of the case because I knew that Bernie had experience of suicide before and I was afraid this might be difficult for her. I didn’t tell Richard anything about that when I rang him – but he managed to get it out of me later. He was amazing at persuading people to tell him things without seeming to probe. Anyway, whatever the reason, he came along and took charge of what turned out to be a murder, rather than a suicide.
And, as I’ve described elsewhere, that was the start of the very strange relationship between Richard and Bernie that led to them getting married a couple of years later. Jonah wasn’t at the wedding. Looking back, that’s quite surprising really because I know Richard was still keeping in touch with him and monitoring his progress. I don’t know whether he invited Jonah and he couldn’t come, or if he deliberately avoided inviting lots of old colleagues. There wasn’t much police representation, now I come to think about it, so probably Jonah wasn’t invited. I was Best Man – returning the favour from when Richard was my Best Man nearly twenty years earlier – and Angie and Hannah took the role of supporters of the bride. I won’t say bridesmaids because, at Bernie’s insistence, there was none of the usual dressing up in pretty frocks and carrying posies. I had charge of the ring; Hannah read a lesson; and Angie and I both signed the register.
Looking back now, I wonder whether one reason for Richard not inviting all his police colleagues to the ceremony was that he was afraid that Bernie’s unconventionality would provoke a lot of comment among them. I can just imagine the sorts of things some of them might say about the idea of a bride dressed in trousers and no flowers at all. Jonah, I think, would probably have relished it – Margaret certainly would have done. After all, they went off on their honeymoon with Jonah riding pillion behind his new wife on her motorbike! Come to think of it, Bernie and Margaret were alike in many ways. Not in appearance at all, but in outlook. Neither of them had any regard at all for convention – or perhaps they took cognisance of it and then, if they didn’t see any value in it, deliberately went out of their way to flout it. After that, the next time I remember meeting Jonah was at Richard’s funeral – but that had better wait for another chapter.