The Ivory Dragon 1/14

Police Constable Charles Robert Pembleton was the fourth generation of the family that had always supplied the face of law and order in the quiet village of Holmwood. His father, grandfather and great grandfather before him had held the same position, living in this very same police cottage. Indeed his own son was even now undergoing his training at Police College and could be expected to follow in his father’s footsteps in due course.

Nobody really knew why the Pembletons had always occupied the position. Rumour had it that even before the forming of a national police force, his ancestors had been the men relied upon to keep the peace. Not only that, but every one of the Pembletons had ‘Robert’ included in his forenames, so not unsurprisingly the law in the village had always been known as ‘the local Bobby.’

Normally Charles was completely happy with his position in life. Having been brought up in the cottage, he’d known every room in the place from an early age. This included the so-called ‘secret’ cell hidden behind a heavy iron studded oak door. It could only be entered from the front room, which also served as the official police office.

Villagers sometimes came to see him to report some minor offence and had often asked to see behind the door, but had always been refused. Criminals who had been locked in the cell overnight before being fetched by a constable from the county town, never spoke of their experiences, even when offered quite large sums of money by the local newspapers. As a result, local mothers for years had threatened their naughty children with the prospect of spending a night in Bobby’s cell, unless they behaved themselves.

However, this morning he was sitting at the table in his dining room before going out on his beat. He had just finished his breakfast and was staring worriedly at the official looking envelope from the County headquarters lying on the table before him.

“Go on, open it now,” said his wife, “it’s probably confirmation of your promotion to sergeant. No Pembleton has been moved from this job as long as any one can remember, I can’t see any reason why they should suddenly start with you!”

Charles had to agree with her, but he was concerned that he was also the first of the Pembletons to fail his sergeant’s exam twice and was worried that it might even contain orders for a posting away from the village. At last heaving a loud sigh, he summoned up his courage and carefully slit open the envelope with a clean table knife.

“Well have you finally passed or not?”

Charles looked back at her with a rather dazed expression on his face. As far as the village was concerned crime usually took the shape of bicycle theft or children scrumping apples from private orchards. He did suspect that motorists sometimes exceeded the speed limit through the village, but was only able to report his suspicions, since he never stood a chance of catching one on his old push bike. Then of course, the traffic boys would come over and set up an obvious speed trap, so everyone would drive more slowly until they left. Nowadays he only bothered to report the really dangerous cases.

He suddenly realised that his wife was still staring at him with an expectant look on her face.

“I’m sorry dear, this is very unusual, I’ve just been told that a suspected ivory smuggling ring is thought to be operating in this area and I’m being asked to keep my eyes open for suspicious characters!”

His wife laughed rather sarcastically. “I wouldn’t have thought there were sufficient wild elephants around here to make it worth while! Never mind, when you’ve brought the gang to justice, perhaps you’ll get your promotion as a reward!”