Abacus

usually when he was either asleep or well on the way. Glancing up from his screen he saw the elderly lady from the front counter coming towards him. The station constable busily cleared her path of chairs as she shuffled onwards.
    “ Shit, was that ten minutes already,” he said, shovelling the unsightly paperwork from the desktop into the top drawer of his desk. Once his desk looked presentable, he forced the crammed drawer closed.
    “Sarge, Mrs . Campbell is here.”
    He got to his feet and met her at the door. “Hello, Mrs. Campbell, come in, come in,” he invited, leading her to the vacant seat opposite his. “Thank you, Constable, I will look after it from here.”
    Randall col lected the report from the constable, sat down, and had a quick flick through the details. He saw that Mrs. Campbell had been born in nineteen twenty-two, stood about five feet tall with short white-grey hair. He was amazed at how good the well-dressed lady looked for her age. He could tell by the way she choked her handbag straps that she was still very nervous and upset.
    “Mrs . Campbell, I haven’t had my morning cuppa yet, how about I put the billy on, and fetch you one before we start?” he said with his trademark, charismatic smile.
    “That would be great , thank you.”
    He stood and headed towards the door. Touching her shoulder gently, he said, “I’ll get out my special teacup and saucer. I only use them for very special visitors, you know.”
    “That sounds marve llous,” she said, looking more at ease. “If it’s not too much trouble, could I have milk with one sugar, please?”
    “Certainly , ma’am. I won’t keep you too long.” A few minutes later he returned with his usual chipped brown mug for himself and an elegant teacup and saucer for his guest. “Here you go, Mrs. Campbell. I would have brought you a nice biscuit too, but looks like the guys have raided the jar. I should have known better than to buy the good Tim Tam ones.”
    “Well , thanks for the tea, anyway, Detective,” she said, pushing her spectacles up against the bridge of her nose. As she raised the cup to her lips Randall could see her hand trembling. It was clear to him she was still very shaken by the theft. As they openly chatted he learnt that she was the widow of a war veteran, Robert Campbell, who had passed away about fifteen years earlier. Mrs. Campbell was the mother of three children, two boys and a girl. She had lived in the same Summer Hill house all her life. After they finished their tea, Randall saw that she had relaxed her grip on her handbag.
    “So , Mrs. Campbell, I see here in the report you have had a break-in and had a lot of items stolen.” The old lady remained silent. Randall intuitively reached across the desk, cupped his hand over hers and gave it a gentle pat. “What is it?”
    She reached for a h andkerchief in her bag and dabbed the corners of her eyes. “The jewellery and other things mean very little to me. It’s the loss of my late Robert’s war medals that has really upset me. I don’t know what to do they meant everything to me. Every ANZAC Day our grandsons come to our house and collect the medals for the big march, it was a way of helping us all remember Robert. Now the medals are gone, I don’t know what to tell the boys.”
    He felt sorry for Mrs. Campbell, and at the same time a desire to physically hurt the thief responsible for upsetting her. Rising from his desk, he said confidently, “Right, Mrs. Campbell, let’s get these medals back for you.” Assisting her from her seat, he led her into the general office. “So how did you travel here today, Mrs. Campbell?” he asked, trying to cheer her up.
    “On the bus , love, the two seven three.”
    “Well , today you will be travelling home in style, in your own very special chauffer driven police car,” Randall said, draping his hand over her shoulder. “That should get the neighbours talking, eh?” he said with a wink. “Mrs. Campbell, I would like you to meet Detective Hobbs, he will be helping me with your investigation.” A surprised Hobbs raised his eyebrows before giving her an encouraging nod.
    “F irst thing’s first. Detective Hobbs will drive you home right now and have a look at your house for clues, okay?”
    “Thank you, Detective,” she said. “Could I just ask a little favour of you?”
    “Sure , ask away.”
    The o ld lady peeked over her glasses. “When you do get the thief, could you give him a good