temper.
“Two … men … in … front… of… my … house,” said the Sergeant writing it down slowly. “Just getting it down,” he told the Kommandant when the latter asked what the hell he thought he was doing.
“Well, you’d better hurry up,” the Kommandant shouted, losing control of himself. “I’ve got a dirty great hole in the ceiling above my bed and my house has been burgled,” he went on and was rewarded for his pains by hearing the Sergeant inform somebody else at the police station that he had another nut case on the line.
“Now then, correct me if I’m wrong,” said the Sergeant before the Kommandant could reprimand him for insubordination, “but you say there are three men watching your house, that there’s a dirty great hole in your ceiling and that your house has been burgled? Is that right? You haven’t left anything out?”
In his bedroom Kommandant van Heerden was on the verge of apoplexy. “Just one thing,” he yelled into the phone, “this is your commanding officer, Kommandant van Heerden, speaking. And I’m ordering you to send a patrol car round to my house at once.”
A sceptical silence greeted this ferocious announcement. “Do you hear me?” shouted the Kommandant. It was clear that the Duty Sergeant didn’t. He had his hand over the mouthpiece but the Kommandant could still hear him telling the konstabel on duty with him that the caller was off his head. With a slam the Kommandant replaced his receiver and wondered what to do. Finally he got to his feet and went to the window. The sinister watchers were still there. The Kommandant tiptoed to his chest of drawers and rummaged in the drawer containing his socks for his revolver. Taking it out, he made sure it was loaded and then, having decided that the hole in his ceiling made his bedroom indefensible, was tiptoeing downstairs when the phone in his bedroom began to ring. For a moment the Kommandant thought of letting it ring when the thought that it might be the Duty Sergeant ringing back to confirm his previous call sent him scurrying upstairs again. He was just in time to pick the receiver up as the ringing stopped.
Kommandant van Heerden dialled the police station,
“Have you just rung me?” he asked the Duty Sergeant.
“Depends who you are,” the Sergeant replied.
“I’m your commanding officer,” shouted the Kommandant.
The Sergeant considered the matter. “All right,” he said finally, “just put your phone down and we’ll ring back to confirm that.”
The Kommandant looked at the receiver vindictively. “Listen to me,” he said, “my number is 5488. You can confirm that and I’ll hold on.”
Five minutes later patrol cars from all over Piemburg were converging on Kommandant van Heerden’s house and the Duty Sergeant was wondering what he was going to say to the Kommandant in the morning.
Chapter 3
Luitenant Verkramp was wondering much the same thing. News of the fiasco at the Kommandant’s house reached him via Sergeant Breitenbach, who had spent the evening tapping the Kommandant’s telephone and who had the presence of mind to order the watching agents to leave the area before the patrol cars arrived. Unfortunately the microphones scattered about the Kommandant’s house remained and Luitenant Verkramp could imagine that their presence there would hardly improve his relations with his commanding officer if they were discovered.
“I told you this whole thing was a mistake,” Sergeant Breitenbach said while Luitenant Verkramp dressed.
Verkramp didn’t agree. “What’s he making such a fuss about if he hasn’t got something to hide?” he asked.
“That hole in the ceiling, for one thing,” said the Sergeant. Luitenant Verkramp couldn’t see it.
“Could have happened to anyone,” he said. “Anyway he’ll blame the Water Board for it.”
“I can’t see them admitting responsibility for making it, all the same,” said the Sergeant.
“The more they deny it, the more
“Two … men … in … front… of… my … house,” said the Sergeant writing it down slowly. “Just getting it down,” he told the Kommandant when the latter asked what the hell he thought he was doing.
“Well, you’d better hurry up,” the Kommandant shouted, losing control of himself. “I’ve got a dirty great hole in the ceiling above my bed and my house has been burgled,” he went on and was rewarded for his pains by hearing the Sergeant inform somebody else at the police station that he had another nut case on the line.
“Now then, correct me if I’m wrong,” said the Sergeant before the Kommandant could reprimand him for insubordination, “but you say there are three men watching your house, that there’s a dirty great hole in your ceiling and that your house has been burgled? Is that right? You haven’t left anything out?”
In his bedroom Kommandant van Heerden was on the verge of apoplexy. “Just one thing,” he yelled into the phone, “this is your commanding officer, Kommandant van Heerden, speaking. And I’m ordering you to send a patrol car round to my house at once.”
A sceptical silence greeted this ferocious announcement. “Do you hear me?” shouted the Kommandant. It was clear that the Duty Sergeant didn’t. He had his hand over the mouthpiece but the Kommandant could still hear him telling the konstabel on duty with him that the caller was off his head. With a slam the Kommandant replaced his receiver and wondered what to do. Finally he got to his feet and went to the window. The sinister watchers were still there. The Kommandant tiptoed to his chest of drawers and rummaged in the drawer containing his socks for his revolver. Taking it out, he made sure it was loaded and then, having decided that the hole in his ceiling made his bedroom indefensible, was tiptoeing downstairs when the phone in his bedroom began to ring. For a moment the Kommandant thought of letting it ring when the thought that it might be the Duty Sergeant ringing back to confirm his previous call sent him scurrying upstairs again. He was just in time to pick the receiver up as the ringing stopped.
Kommandant van Heerden dialled the police station,
“Have you just rung me?” he asked the Duty Sergeant.
“Depends who you are,” the Sergeant replied.
“I’m your commanding officer,” shouted the Kommandant.
The Sergeant considered the matter. “All right,” he said finally, “just put your phone down and we’ll ring back to confirm that.”
The Kommandant looked at the receiver vindictively. “Listen to me,” he said, “my number is 5488. You can confirm that and I’ll hold on.”
Five minutes later patrol cars from all over Piemburg were converging on Kommandant van Heerden’s house and the Duty Sergeant was wondering what he was going to say to the Kommandant in the morning.
Chapter 3
Luitenant Verkramp was wondering much the same thing. News of the fiasco at the Kommandant’s house reached him via Sergeant Breitenbach, who had spent the evening tapping the Kommandant’s telephone and who had the presence of mind to order the watching agents to leave the area before the patrol cars arrived. Unfortunately the microphones scattered about the Kommandant’s house remained and Luitenant Verkramp could imagine that their presence there would hardly improve his relations with his commanding officer if they were discovered.
“I told you this whole thing was a mistake,” Sergeant Breitenbach said while Luitenant Verkramp dressed.
Verkramp didn’t agree. “What’s he making such a fuss about if he hasn’t got something to hide?” he asked.
“That hole in the ceiling, for one thing,” said the Sergeant. Luitenant Verkramp couldn’t see it.
“Could have happened to anyone,” he said. “Anyway he’ll blame the Water Board for it.”
“I can’t see them admitting responsibility for making it, all the same,” said the Sergeant.
“The more they deny it, the more
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