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** APRIL 20TH ** |
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*** CANLEY PARK - 6:55 PM *** |
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| Taffy is sitting in his car idly humming a Welsh ditty to himself. He is dressed in civvies and has been assigned as backup on an undercover operation. | |
| PC Edwards: | Bloody superstars, can't run a show by themselves so they have to get us sitting around all day, wearing holes in the bottom of our trousers. |
| Taffy keeps humming to himself. He notices a small girl sitting on a swing in the park in his rear view mirror with her head in her hands. He takes little notice of her and listens to the sounds coming out of his radio set. | |
| PC Edwards: | Oscar, Oscar... What are we, police officers or muppets? I wish that little girl would move, she's blocking my view of the lavvies. |
| Taffy sits there for several minutes more, looking at the small girl. He notices a large bruise on her face and stops humming. | |
| PC Edwards: | A kid, sitting on a swing with her head in her hands a bruise the size of a leek on her cheek... This is suspicious. |
| Taffy sighs and unlocks his car door, swinging his feet out onto the pavement and standing up. He adjusts his hat and starts to walk over to the little girl. | |
| PC Edwards: | Detective Chief Inspector Edwards investigating another case... He strides towards the victim in his nicely tailored suit... |
| Taffy mumbles to himself as he approaches the girl. She doesn't look up when he stops in front of her, his rather shabby outfit looking anything but impressive. | |
| PC Edwards: | Hello, hello, hello, what have we here? Where are you from, little one? |
| Polly looks up slowly, brushing the tears from her cheeks. | |
| Polly Page: | What do you care? |
| PC Edwards: | I care because it's my job to care! There's a little girl sitting here with a bruise on her cheek looking as miserable as if she's just found out that her pet dog has died so I'm curious. Where are your Mummy and Daddy? |
| Polly stares up at the stranger coolly. | |
| Polly Page: | Oh great, another one of you lot. Leave it, yeah? |
| Taffy looks confused. | |
| PC Edwards: | I'm only trying to help, so keep your petticoat on miss! I want to take you home if you're lost. |
| Polly Page: | Well, I'm not lost, so you needn't bother. Okay? |
| PC Edwards: | Well what's the matter then? Come on, open up. |
| Polly eyes him up thoughtfully, slowly getting to her feet. | |
| Polly Page: | Oh, the sensitive type, are we? That'll get you a discount, ya know. |
| Taffy looks very surprised. | |
| PC Edwards: | I must say, you're talking very grown up for such a little girl. Where are you from? |
| Polly brushes off his question, circling around the swing several times. | |
| Polly Page: | Well maybe I'm not as little as you fink, yeah? |
| PC Edwards: | Little girls should be seen and not heard as my old mother used to say. Crazy old bat she was but that's one piece of good advice she came out with. So what's your name, little girl? I can't keep calling you "little girl" can I? |
| Polly shrugs with a brief smile. | |
| Polly Page: | Call me what you like, I don't mind. |
| Taffy sighs and smiles at the little girl. | |
| PC Edwards: | Do you have a nickname? Mine's "cheeky leeky". I'm Welsh, you see. You probably hadn't noticed. |
| Polly Page: | I know. The voice kinda gives it away. So, you interested or not? Twenty quid'll do. You seem nicer than most. |
| Taffy furrows his brow. | |
| PC Edwards: | Twenty quid for what? |
| Polly grins with a wink. | |
| Polly Page: | Well that's up to you, ain't it. |
| Taffy puts his hands on his hips. | |
| PC Edwards: | What exactly are you suggesting, miss? |
| Polly Page: | This your first time or something? Or you just like playing the innocent? Twenty quid, you, me and the back seat of a car if you've got it. Otherwise I know a few private spots. |
| Taffy takes a step backwards. | |
| PC Edwards: | Err... How old are you little girl? |
| Polly flashes a grin. | |
| Polly Page: | How old you want me to be? |
| Taffy raises his eyebrows. | |
| PC Edwards: | So you're a tom are you? Aren't you a little bit young to be in that game? |
| Polly steps closer to the man, running a hand down his chest. | |
| Polly Page: | Ain't that up to me? Now, where you wanna go? |
| Taffy pulls Polly's hand off his chest and holds her wrist. | |
| PC Edwards: | I think you'd better come with me. |
| Polly Page: | Well that's what I was saying all along. |
| Polly smiles and follows him back over to the car. Taffy shakes his head in disbelief. | |
| PC Edwards: | Good grief, girls today. When I was that old I spent all my time playing marbles. I'll take her down to Sun Hill and Bob Cryer can sort her out. Or maybe I'll give her to Reg Hollis if she's looking for someone to play with. |
| Taffy chuckles to himself and gets into the car, driving off with Polly beside him. | |
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*** SUN HILL POLICE STATION - 7:15 PM *** |
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| Taffy is gently leading Polly by the arm towards the entrance to the custody suite. She is looking around her, bemused by the station and its surroundings. | |
| Polly Page: | Just where you fink you're taking me? |
| Polly pulls against the officer's grasp. | |
| PC Edwards: | I'm taking you in there, little girl. I know a man who'd like to ask you a few questions. |
| Taffy continues to lead Polly towards the suite. A gaggle of other officers walk past and Dave Litten calls out. | |
| PC Litten: | Hey, you're starting young aren't you Taff? Whatever have you done to that poor girl? |
| PC Edwards: | Leave it out, Dave. Hasn't she been through enough already? |
| Polly continues to struggle, glaring angrily up at the Welsh copper. | |
| Polly Page: | Look, let go will ya! |
| Taffy frowns and leads Polly into custody, not appreciating her struggles. | |
| Polly Page: | Let me go, let me go! |
| PC Edwards: | Leave it out and stand still, miss. |
| Polly digs her fingernails into Taffy's arm, not giving up. | |
| Polly Page: | I mean it, let go! |
| PC Edwards: | Sarge, I have a rather interesting customer here for you. |
| Bob looks curiously between the young girl and the officer. | |
| Sgt. Cryer: | What's this all about then? |
| PC Edwards: | Good question Sarge. I found her loitering in the park. She's young but she seems to be on the game... |
| Taffy trails off hesitantly. | |
| Sgt. Cryer: | Right. What makes you say that? |
| Bob observes as the girl continues to struggle with the officer. | |
| PC Edwards: | She came on to me Sarge! She was doing everything but feeling me up. I was on a CID obbo, nothing special, and I saw her there and went up to her then she started acting really strangely all of a sudden. |
| Bob gives Taffy a suspicious look. | |
| Sgt. Cryer: | Well, what do you know about her? Name, age? What was she doing in the park? |
| PC Edwards: | No idea Sarge. |
| Sgt. Cryer: | Right. |
| Bob turns to the little girl. | |
| Sgt. Cryer: | So, what is your name then? |
| Polly manages to pull away from Taffy completely, crossing her arms in defence. | |
| Polly Page: | I ain't talking to any of ya, so forget it. Now let me the hell outa here! |
| Bob raises an eyebrow and paces around to the other side of the custody desk. | |
| Sgt. Cryer: | Don't you have a CID op to get back to, Taffy? |
| PC Edwards: | Sarge? Don't you want me to stay? |
| Sgt. Cryer: | I don't really think it'd help matters, do you? |
| PC Edwards: | But the obbo's so boring! Can't I stay and look into this instead? |
| Bob gives the officer a stern look. | |
| Sgt. Cryer: | Back out there, Taff. Now. And no side-tracking via the canteen, either! |
| Taffy looks disappointedly at Bob, nods his head resignedly and walks out of custody the way he came in. The sergeant turns his strict gaze upon the little girl. | |
| Sgt. Cryer: | So what's your name? I need it for the records, miss. |
| Polly paces slowly around the custody officer, curling a piece of hair with her finger. | |
| Polly Page: | Why should I tell you? I haven't done nuffink, so let me go. |
| Sgt. Cryer: | Stand still and tell me your name! I've had five drunks, two brawlers and a man singing opera in here today so I'm not in the mood to be messed around. |
| Bob speaks with a strict, authoritative voice. Polly remains silent, as she glances around at the various exits points. Continuing to look away from the officer, Polly darts towards the double doors, leading into the station. Bob runs out from behind his desk, shouting out as he grabs the young girl by the scruff of her neck. | |
| Sgt. Cryer: | Oh no you don't! You're staying here, miss. |
| Polly Page: | Owwww, let me go, pig! |
| Bob pulls Polly back to the custody desk and sits her down. | |
| Sgt. Cryer: | Name? |
| Polly stares back at him blankly. | |
| Polly Page: | Not a chance. |
| Sgt. Cryer: | Look, you can either give me your name now or I'll lock you up in a cell until you do tell us. It's as simple as that. |
| Polly Page: | You can't lock me up, I'm a minor. So you can't do nuffink. |
| Polly looks back at him, smugly. | |
| Sgt. Cryer: | Under the conditions of the Police And Criminal Evidence Act you can be detained and taken into our care until a suitable adult can be found to take care of you. We cannot find a suitable adult until you let us know your name so we can contact your parents so you'll be staying here an awfully long time unless you tell me your name, little girl. Come on, even just your first name? |
| Polly Page: | I ain't giving you my name, coz you ain't contacting my folks. Look, I ain't broken the law, have I? So why did that pig bring me in? |
| Bob replies calmly. | |
| Sgt. Cryer: | Because you were young, you were by yourself and you seem to be in some difficulty. Look, it's no skin off my nose if you want to spend the next eight hours in a cell but I think it would be a lot easier for you if you just co-operated and told me your name. At least let me know someone I can contact to look after you? |
| Polly shakes her head. | |
| Polly Page: | No way, coz you'll just send me back home. I'm all right on me own, okay? |
| Sgt. Cryer: | No you're not. |
| Bob sighs in defeat. | |
| Sgt. Cryer: | Fine, be that way. I'll put you in the detention room until you decide to do the sensible thing. Oh, don't try to use the toilet in there... The last customer we had blocked it up with God knows what so it's not exactly in working order. |
| Bob escorts Polly along to the Detention Room and she wanders inside, looking around her with an expression of horror on her face. | |
| Polly Page: | What's going on? I ain't staying in here, it stinks! |
| Sgt. Cryer: | Well you're the one who chose not to tell me your name. Let me know when you change your mind. |
| Bob slams the door shut with an ominous thud. Polly runs over to the window. | |
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Polly Page: |
Wait! You mean you're really gonna just leave me in here? |
| Sgt. Cryer: | You bet I am, miss. Oh, and if you want to lie down I'd leave it for an hour or two. I'm not sure if I managed to get all the vomit out of the bedclothes but give it time and it should all have dried up. |
| Bob wanders back to the custody desk. Polly curls up in the corner of the room, burying her head in her hands, sobbing quietly. | |
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*** CANTEEN - 7:50 PM *** |
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| Dave is sitting in the middle of the canteen smoking a cigarette and leering across at June. | |
| PC Litten: | As I was saying, she had knockers the size of Newcastle... Going to bed with her was a lot like mountain climbing. |
| June flicks the ash from her cigarette, sipping another mouthful of tea. | |
| WPC Ackland: | Yeah, now you're just getting disgusting. |
| Dave grins. | |
| PC Litten: | Don't get jealous just 'cause you're a little underdeveloped in that area yourself June. |
| PC Edwards: | All right, leave it out Dave. |
| Dave looks up at the new arrival in the canteen. | |
| PC Litten: | What's it to you, Leeky? I thought you'd be too busy servicing your latest strumpet to come in here. |
| Taffy smiles and takes a seat beside June. | |
| PC Edwards: | Never too busy for refs, much like yourself. |
| PC Litten: | So tell us all about her, you've certainly been keeping her under wraps Taffy. |
| PC Edwards: | What are you talking about? |
| Taffy stirs his tea, looking strangely across the table. | |
| PC Litten: | That little tart I saw you hauling up the stairs towards the custody area today. Don't pretend that was the first time you laid eyes on her? |
| Taffy frowns up at Litten, beginning his tea. | |
| PC Edwards: | You really oughta try using more than one brain cell when you talk, you know. |
| PC Litten: | Oh, come on Taff, I saw your loving hand resting on her shoulder, the look in your eyes... How long have you two been going out? |
| Taffy sharpens his tone, not amused. | |
| PC Edwards: | Just leave it out, yeah? It's not funny, ya know. She's just some kid. |
| PC Litten: | Well you like them young don't you Taff? She was well pregnant or I'm a Welshman. Has someone been a naughty boy? |
| PC Edwards: | Litten, cut it out, right. |
| PC Litten: | Ooh, so defensive. What's her name, this mystery girl? |
| PC Edwards: | I dunno, she wouldn't say. I'd expect that's what Cryer's trying to find out right now. |
| PC Litten: | And how old would you say she is? She looked a right little strumpet, about fourteen I'd say. You really are starting young, Taffy. |
| Taffy stands up, picking up his cup. | |
| PC Edwards: | Look, I've no idea, I don't care and I've had just about enough of your lip. |
| Taffy paces over to an empty table and sits down. Dave mutters across to June. | |
| PC Litten: | Sensitive boy, isn't he? |
| WPC Ackland: | Sounds like he's a right to be. Ya know, sometimes you take jest a bit far. |
| PC Litten: | Oh what is it with people in this nick? None of you can take a joke anymore. I'm off. |
| Dave grabs his hat and storms out of the canteen. June smiles and looks over at Taffy's back. | |
| WPC Ackland: | You can come back now, the vulture has left. |
| Viv walks into the canteen, passing the angry Litten on her way in. She strides over to June's table after ordering a coffee and sits opposite her. Taffy joins the girls' table again. | |
| WPC Martella: | What's bitten Dave? He just about knocked me over on his way out of here. |
| June shrugs, with a light smile. | |
| WPC Ackland: | Nothing, Litten was just giving him grief about some young kid he just brought in. |
| Viv looks faintly interested. | |
| WPC Martella: | Young kid? Where did you find him Taff? |
| PC Edwards: | It's a 'her' actually. Canley park. 'Bout an hour ago, right mess she was in. Didn't stop her trying to chat me up though. |
| Viv frowns. | |
| WPC Martella: | But you said she was a kid... What do you mean she was chatting you up? |
| PC Edwards: | She was on the game. It's getting ridiculous these days, she couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen. Oh well, social services' problem now. Or Cryer's until she gives him her name. |
| Viv's ears prick up. | |
| WPC Martella: | What did she look like Taff? |
| Taffy looks slightly confused. | |
| PC Edwards: | Blonde hair, blue eyes, like she'd been living rough for a few days. |
| WPC Martella: | And she was sort of tall for her age? What was her hair like? |
| PC Edwards: | Tall, I guess. Wasn't really sure how old she was. She looked about thirteen or so, but acted more of a kid. Why you so interested, Viv? |
| WPC Martella: | Nothing... Did she tell you anything about her parents? |
| PC Edwards: | No, why? She didn't tell me much at all. Wouldn't say a word once we were in the car and then when we got to the station, all she wanted to do was leg it. |
| WPC Martella: | It could be... Don't worry Taffy, thanks, you've been a big help. |
| Taffy sighs, as he gets up from the table and heads for the door. | |
| PC Edwards: | I'm glad someone thinks so. |
| June watches as the male officer leaves, turning to her colleague. | |
| WPC Ackland: | What's on ya mind, Viv? |
| Viv gets to her feet, not answering June's question and follows Taffy out the door in a state of deep concentration. June shakes her head in amazement, turning back to her dinner. | |
| WPC Ackland: | What'd I do this time? |