Jasper Fforde - The Big Over Easy

Briggs waved a hand in the direction of the corpse. It looks like he died from injuries sustained falling from a wall.

It was the week following Easter in Reading, and no one could remember the last sunny day. Gray clouds swept across the sky, borne on a chill wind that cut like a knife. It seemed that spring had forsaken the town. The drab winter weather had clung to the town like a heavy smog, refusing to relinquish the season. Even the early bloomers were in denial. Only the bravest crocuses had graced the municipal park, and the daffodils, usually a welcome splash of color after a winter of grayness, had taken one sniff at the cold, damp air and postponed blooming for another year.

A police officer was gazing with mixed emotions at the dreary cityscape from the seventh floor of Reading Central Police Station. She was thirty and attractive, dressed up and dated down, worked hard and felt awkward near anyone she didnt know. Her name was Mary. Mary Mary. And she was from Basingstoke, which is nothing to be ashamed of.

Mary? said an officer who was carrying a large potted plant in the manner of someone who thinks it is well outside his job description. Superintendent Briggs will see you now. How often do you water these things?

That one? replied Mary without emotion. Never. Its plastic.

Im a policeman, he said unhappily, not a sodding gardener.

And he walked off, mumbling darkly to himself.

She turned from the window, approached Briggss closed door and paused. She gathered her thoughts, took a deep breath and stood up straight. Reading wouldnt have been everyones choice for a transfer, but for Mary, Reading had one thing that no other city possessed: DCI Friedland Chymes. He was a veritable powerhouse of a sleuth whose career was a catalog of inspired police work, and his unparalleled detection skills had filled the newspaper columns for over two decades. Chymes was the reason Mary had joined the police force in the first place. Ever since her father had bought her a subscription to Amazing Crime Stories when she was nine, shed been hooked. She had thrilled at The Mystery of the Wrong Nose, been galvanized by The Poisoned Shoe and inspired by The Sign of Three and a Half. Twenty-one years further on, Chymes was still a serious international player in the world of competitive detecting, and Mary had never missed an issue. Chymes was currently ranked by Amazing Crime second in their annual league rating, just behind Oxfords ever-popular Inspector Moose.

Hmm, murmured Superintendent Briggs, eyeing Marys job application carefully as she sat uncomfortably on a plastic chair in an office that was empty apart from a desk, two chairs, themand a trombone lying on a tattered chaise longue.

Your application is mostly very good, Mary, he said approvingly. I see you were with Detective Inspector Hebden Flowwe. How did that go?

It hadnt gone very well at all, but she didnt think shed say so.

We had a fairly good clear-up rate, sir.

Ive no doubt you did. But more important, anything published?

It was a question that was asked more and more in front of promotion boards and transfer interviews and listed in performance reports. It wasnt enough to be a conscientious and invaluable assistant to ones allotted inspectoryou had to be able to write up a readable account for the magazines that the public loved to read. Preferably Amazing Crime Stories, but, failing that, Sleuth Illustrated.

Only one story in print, sir. But I was the youngest officer at Basingstoke to make detective sergeant and have two commendations for brav

The thing is, interrupted Briggs, is that the Oxford and Berkshire Constabulary prides itself on producing some of the most readable detectives in the country. He walked over to the window and looked out at the rain striking the glass. Modern policing isnt just about catching criminals, Mary. Its about good copy and ensuring that cases can be made into top-notch documentaries on the telly. Public approval is the all-important currency these days, and police budgets ebb and flow on the back of circulation and viewing figures.

Yes, sir.

DS Flotsams work penning Friedland Chymess adventures is the benchmark to which you should try to aspire, Mary. Selling the movie rights to Friedland Chymesthe Smell of Fear was a glory moment for everyone at Reading Central, and rightly so. Just one published work, you say? With Flowwe?

Yes, sir. A two-parter in Amazing Crime. Jan./Feb. 1999 and adapted for TV.

He nodded his approval.

Well, thats impressive. Prime-time dramatization?

No, sir. Documentary on MoleCable-62.

His face fell. Clearly, at Reading they expected better things. Briggs sat down and looked at her record again.

Now, it says here one reprimand: You struck Detective Inspector Flowwe with an onyx ashtray. Why was that?

The table lamp was too heavy, she replied, truthfully enough, and if Id used a chair, it might have killed him.

Which is illegal, of course, added Briggs, glad for an opportunity to show off his legal knowledge. What happened? Personal entanglements?

Equal blame on both sides, sir, she replied, thinking it would be better to be impartial over the whole affair. I was foolish. He was emotionally dishonest.

Briggs closed the file.

Well, I dont blame you. Hebden was always a bit of a bounder. He pinged my partners bra strap at an office party once, you know. She wasnt wearing it at the time, he added after a moments reflection, but the intention was clear.

That sounds like DI Flowwe, replied Mary.

Briggs drummed his fingers on the desk for a moment.

Do you want to hear me play the trombone?

Might it be prejudicial to my career if I were to refuse?

Its a distinct possibility.

Then Id be delighted.

So Briggs walked over to the chaise longue, picked up the trom-bone, worked the slide a couple of times and blew a few notes, much to the annoyance of whoever had the office next door, who started to thump angrily on the wall.

Drug squad, explained Briggs unhappily, putting the instrument down, complete heathens. Never appreciate a good tune.

I was wondering, said Mary before he had a chance to start playing again. This detective sergeants job Im applying for. Who is it with?

He looked at his watch.

An excellent question. In ten minutes were holding a press conference. Ive a detective in urgent need of a new sergeant, and I think youll fit the bill perfectly. Shall we?