#UP Police Constable result

[hardinnews2]

UP Police Constable Result 2024: Exam results expected by the end of October: CM Yogi

उत्तर प्रदेश के सीएम योगी आदित्यनाथ ने पुष्टि की है कि UP Police Constable Result 2024 अक्टूबर के अंत तक घोषित किया जाएगा।

[sarkaariresult]

UP Police Constable Sports Quota final Result

UP Police Constable Sports Quota final Result has recently released , So If you want to check it or know complete details about this exam and many others . Now you can SEE HERE

[scotianostra]

On December 30th 1969 two police officers died of bullet wounds during a raid on a house in Allison Street, Glasgow; a third was wounded.

Police in Glasgow still remember the murder of two officers, when one of their ex colleagues was spotted with a suspicious package after robbing a bank in Linwood. The horrifying case was led by an ex police officer, who was in jail until 2002.

Shortly after 4pm two officers were shot dead by a man seen acting suspiciously outside a flat in Govanhill on the south side of the city. Their suspect had just taken part in an armed robbery and was carrying the proceeds into the Allison Street tenement in suitcases.

When the two cops followed their man into the ground floor apartment, unaware of the earlier hold-up, he pulled out a gun and shot them dead. The double murder was all the more shocking because it was carried out by a former police officer and colleagu

A few hours later Howard Wilson, married with a young family, was sitting in his police cell in nearby Craigie Street Police Office confessing both murders to his bewildered lawyer Joe Beltrami.

Nineteen years later in his memoir Tales of the Suspected, Beltrami wrote: “As I listened to him. I kept asking myself what could have possessed him.

“He looked more like a businessman than a criminal.”

Wilson had quit the City of Glasgow police in 1968 after 10 years’ service when he failed to get promotion to sergeant.

Instead he opened a greengrocers, The Orchard in nearby Mount Florida. But the outlet, along with another shop he’d bought, was losing money.

His two best friends former prison officer Ian Donaldson, 31, and ex-cop John Sim, 21, both had young families and were also strapped for cash. During one late evening drinking session they joked about robbing a bank to solve all their financial worries. However, the morning after the night before it began to sound like a plan.

Who would suspect two former cops and a prison officer? They had no criminal records and their fingerprints were not on file. The money would also be used to pay off debts so it would disappear as quickly as it had been stolen.

Thus the pieces of a jigsaw were put in place that would result in a cold blooded double execution almost six months later.

The trio recruited a fourth man – Archibald McGeachie – to be their getaway driver, and bought a Russian pistol from the president of the Bearsden Shooting Club, of which all three were members. On July 16, dressed in smart suits and carrying briefcases they walked into the British Linen Bank in Giffnock, East Renfrewshire, and escaped with £20,876 (£270,000 now).

All three, however, were broke again by Christmas and, having got away with it once, planned another heist – this time a branch of the Clydesdale in Linwood, Renfrewshire on December 30.

However, McGeachie took cold feet and declined the job of getaway driver, leaving his three pals to do the job on their own.

On December 23, a week before, the second hold up, he disappeared from his home and was never been seen again.

His fellow robbers escaped this time with £14,000 – much of it in silver coins – which later proved significant when they were all spotted by a suspicious Inspector Andrew Hyslop transporting the suitcases. He recognised Wilson who he had once trained in the use of firearms.

Inspector Hyslop also suspected the trio were carrying stolen whisky, as he didn’t know about the bank robbery. He confronted all three in Wilson’s ground floor flat, having called in reinforcements from Craigie Street.

When the inspector bent down to open one of the cases, his former colleague shot him in the face. Detective Constable Angus MacKenzie and PC Edward Barnett, were then both shot in the head when they tried to arrest him.

As they fell, Wilson calmly stepped up to DC MacKenzie and shot him again, killing him outright.

His accomplice Donaldson had fled the flat, while Sim watched in horror. Wilson turned his attention to another former colleague PC John Sellars, who had taken refuge in the bathroom to radio for help but he couldn’t get through the door. Wilson then noticed Inspector Hyslop beginning to move on the floor, and went to finish him off.

A fifth officer, Detective Constable John Campbell flung himself across the hall at Wilson before he could fire again, saving his colleagues’ life.

DC Campbell managed to wrestle the gun from Wilson just as his fellow officers alerted by the sound of gunfire rushed into the flat.

There they found a scene of unimaginable horror. DC MacKenzie had been killed outright while PC Barnett would die five days later in hospital.

Wilson only seemed to regret only what he had done to DC MacKenzie, whose wife June he knew personally. As he was led away, he asked the arresting officers if they would apologise to her on his behalf.

When the three appeared at Glasgow Sheriff Court on February 6, 1970, Wilson admitted the murders of Detective Constable McKenzie and Constable Barnett, attempting to murder Inspector Hyslop, threatening to shoot Constable Sellars, and to the bank robberies at Giffnock and Linwood. A week later, at the High Court in Edinburgh, Wilson was sentenced to life, with a recommendation that he should serve a minimum of 25 years. Donaldson and Sim were given 12 years each for their parts in the robberies.

Later that year it was announced that the Queen had approved awards of the George Medal to Inspector Hyslop and Detective Constable Campbell. Awards of the Queen’s Police Medal for Gallantry were posthumously awarded to Detective Constable McKenzie and Constable Barnett. In 1971, PC Sellars was awarded the Glasgow Corporation medal for bravery by the Lord Provost.

Detective Constable McKenzie left a widow, June, and Constable Barnett a widow, Margaret, and two children.

Of the three officers who survived, Inspector Hyslop suffered most as bullet parts had been left deeply embedded in his neck. After many months on sick leave Inspector Hyslop returned to duty. But the shock of his terrible experience had left him unfit to carry on and in June, 1971, he had to resign from the force and died on the island of Islay in 2000, aged 74.

In December 2009, on the 40th anniversary of the murders, Alastair organised a memorial service at Linn Crematorium in Castlemilk where the two officers are buried side by side, attended by their widows.

In September 2002, Wilson was finally freed after almost 33 years behind bars despite strenuous objections from the Scottish Police Federation.

At the time its chairman Norman Flowers, said: “We feel that anyone who murders a police officer should never be released. Life should mean life.”

More facts about this brutal crime can be found here http://www.policemuseum.org.uk/the-allison-street-police.../

[head-post]

UK riots getting worse: footage

Since the Southport stabbing attack that killed several children, violent anti-migrant and anti-local mayhem has swept the UK.

Riots have been raging in the UK in recent days, leaving the new government to contend with the worst unrest in a decade. The last time the country faced social unrest on this scale was in 2011, when the fatal police shooting of a Black British man in north London led to protests that turned into days of rioting in the capital.

Police officers were injured in Plymouth on Monday night as angry mobs descended on the coastal city in south-west England. The latest outbreak of violence came after mobs of campaigners set fire to hotels housing asylum seekers in two cities over the weekend.

On Monday morning, Prime Minister Keir Starmer held his first COBRA session, an emergency meeting of national agencies and branches of government, to discuss the response to the unrest.

This is not protest. It is organised, violent thuggery and it has no place on our streets, or online.

What happened

Throughout Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, violent protesters gathered in town and city centres across the UK. Many of them presumably intended to clash with police and cause chaos. The gatherings may have started as anti-immigration marches organised on social media platforms, but they quickly escalated into riots and violence, according to CNN.

Protesters set fire to two Holiday Inn hotels in the town of Rotherham in the north of England and Tamworth, central England, which were believed to be housing asylum seekers awaiting a decision on their claims. At the time, the hotel in Rotherham was “full of terrified tenants and staff”, according to South Yorkshire Police Assistant Chief Constable Lindsey Butterfield.

In Tamworth, rioters threw objects, smashed windows, and started fires, injuring one police officer, according to local authorities. In Rotherham, they threw wooden planks, used fire extinguishers against officers, set fire to items outside a hotel, and smashed windows to gain entry to the building, police reported.

Violence also took place in Sunderland, Middlesbrough, Stoke-on-Trent, and several other towns, mainly in the Midlands and the north of England. The Home Office stated on Sunday that mosques in the United Kingdom had been given “greater protection with new emergency security.”

Many suspects had yet to be identified, with authorities vowing to use facial recognition and other technology to track them, Starmer said.

People in this country have a right to be safe and yet, we’ve seen Muslim communities targeted, attacks on mosques, other minority communities singled out, Nazi salutes in the street, attacks on the police, wanton violence alongside racist rhetoric.

Chaos without winners

The violence was directly triggered by the stabbing of several children in Southport, in the north-west of England, earlier this week. As a result, three girls were killed and the country descended into chaos.

National-oriented forces seized on the incident and spread a wave of misinformation, including false claims that the alleged attacker was an immigrant, to mobilise anti-Muslim and anti-immigrant protests. However, police say the suspect was born in the UK.

Against the backdrop of ongoing ethnic clashes, Prime Minister Starmer announced future tough measures against White rioters. He said a separate “army” would be created from parts of the police force to deal specifically with anti-migrant sentiment.

A joint view was expressed by the head of Bolton’s Muslim community. He revealed that he felt Britain could not exist without migrants and therefore they needed to show their influence in society. He also thanked the police and the state for helping migrants to stand up for their rights.

Developments show that the new UK government has chosen a course of suppressing its population and fragmenting the country into warring communities. Starmer, whose party recently defeated former Prime Minister Rishi Sunak’s Conservatives, faced the first consequences of an unmanaged migration policy.

Now the arrivals, under the pretext of asserting their rights, are also smashing shops and harassing the local population. In such a situation, it is almost impossible to discern who is to blame for the current turmoil. One thing is clear: the government must take measures to protect its citizens, otherwise the snowball of violence will be unstoppable.

Read more HERE

[viric-dreams]

Since I've had the early Nite lore sitting in my drafts for weeks, and this could get long:

The whole plan to plant a double agent within an extremist faction seeking the Liberation of Night and take them down from the inside was not purely a Sequencer plot. In fact, it was a collaboration between several different factions with a vested interest in stopping said group from enacting a plan that would result in chaos and severe casualties.

The original plan was more elaborate--to plant Roberts in a more moderate faction, with whom some of their members had more radical sympathies, and for him to try to seek an in with this Liberation group.

None of the factions involved had accounted for the Benthic researchers attempting to "cure" Sequencers.

Though neither will remember it after the fact, the escape was chaotic: grab as many documents as you can, inflict violence on whomever comes within striking range, break whatever possible, and get the hell out of there before it's too late.

Which is how Nite properly came to hours later on the streets of London, ear hurting something awful, and a handful of identifying documents, pages of notes of which he could make little sense, and a time for an upcoming meeting.

Nowhere in any of these papers nor his mind, however, was the location or purpose for said meeting.

Poor luck had, shortly after this point, landed him in the wrong neighborhood, where his accent and militaristic posture had him mistaken for a constable or in the employ of the Empress, in a place where both parties were not viewed in high regard. This swiftly devolved into a scrap, broken up by the actual constables, and Nite ended the evening in the back of a police carriage.

His salvation, however, came a few hours later, when an officer he'd never seen before pulled him from his holding cell, returning his items to him with a wink. When he left the station and took stock of his possessions to find a note among them, scrawled on it, an address. 

The meeting with the revolutionaries goes well, exceptionally well, and he finds himself absolutely taken with the cause. Not just the cause, but the group fighting for it and how they took him in so readily. There's something about that sense of belonging that feels so right, pushing him to burrow his way deeper into the group and their affections.

They don't know, of course, about the gaps in his memory. And perhaps they don't need to know. He has a good thing going, and there's no need to rock the boat.

There's just one thing that's unusual about the situation: He recognises one of the faces in the group, the good-looking man who seemed exceptionally enthusiastic about their acceptance of him on his first day, who seems to smile at him like they have some sort of a shared secret, who holds eye contact before turning down a secluded corner. It seems to scratch at a part of his brain where he can't quite seem to scrape the memories loose from wherever they're buried. Even without them, he has a pretty good idea of what the man wants. He turns the corner and presses close.

He's wrong.

So very wrong.

The man shoves him, spitting and cursing. He's a constable--does Nite have any idea the kind of hell he could bring down upon him for such filth? After all the work he put in to get Nite where he was. And he could ruin him just as easily. Destroy the relationships he's built over the last weeks.

He panics.

Nite would like to say that he blacked out, that he doesn't remember the murder. But that wouldn't be true. He feels like he should be more unsettled by it, by the fact that his hands seemed to know exactly what to do, how straightforward and simple it all seemed. How he knew just how to ensure that the constable wouldn't be coming back.

And the man was a constable. A mole. The fool even had his badge on him. He could present this to the revolutionaries, that he was forced to stop him in order to save them all. That would make him a hero. Even more devoted to their cause. The man of the hour.

The shocking thing--it works. It's cause for celebration, in fact.

Roberts wakes up in London with no memory since his first arrival at the docks and a killer hangover.

[tomorrowusa]

Things are only getting worse for Rishi Sunak's Conservative Party in the UK. These are self-inflicted wounds and they're happening just two weeks before a general election in which the Tories are predicted to have their worst showing since World War II (if lucky) or the Napoleonic Wars (if unlucky).

One of Rishi Sunak’s close protection officers has been arrested over alleged bets about the timing of the election. The officer was arrested on Monday on suspicion of misconduct in public office, the Metropolitan police said in a statement. The news comes a week on from the Guardian’s revelation that Rishi Sunak’s closest parliamentary aide, Craig Williams, had placed a £100 bet on a July election just three days before the prime minister named the date. As a result of that incident, the Gambling Commission conducted a wider investigation and found information that led to the decision to investigate the officer. The Metropolitan police said it was contacted last Friday by the Gambling Commission, which informed the force that it was investigating alleged bets related to the timing of an election by a constable from the Met’s Royalty and Specialist Protection Command.

There's also a scandal involving the wife of Chris Philp – Sunak's Minister of State for Crime, Policing and Fire. Philp takes a hard line on law and order but apparently his wife is engaged in corporate espionage.

Policing minister’s wife reported to CPS over corporate espionage claims

A leading businesswoman who is married to the policing minister, Chris Philp, has been reported to the Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) by a former employer and is being sued in the high court over allegations of corporate espionage. Elizabeth Philp, 40, whose husband has called for “zero tolerance” to all crime, is accused of data-handling offences and unlawfully using confidential information from her former employer to set up a rival business. She denies the allegations and is countersuing her former employer, whom she accuses of cyber-attacking the website of the company she subsequently founded.

The pro-Conservative Daily Telegraph on its front page placed a map of 2019 election results next to its projections for the July election. On the UK political color palette: Red = Labour, Blue = Conservatives, Orange = Liberal Democrats, Yellow = Scottish National Party, Light Green = Plaid Cymru (Party of Wales), Medium Green = the Greens.

Wipeout indeed! Savanta, which conducted the poll the Daily Telegraph based its 2024 map on, projects between 481 and 516 seats for Labour (depending on how results are analyzed) in the 650 seat House of Commons.

Sunak may see the writing on the wall and could be thinking of moving to California if he personally gets booted from his seat in the constituency of Richmond and Northallerton. Richmond and Northallerton is currently considered a tossup.

Rishi Sunak’s California escape hatch: His $7.2 million beach home

[myemuisemo]

It's time to learn from Letters from Watson "What John Rance Had to Tell."

But first, Holmes explains some of his deductions. He does not explain what the long fingernails on the right hand mean.

And he comes out with what is for me, as a modern reader, a doozy:

The A [in RACHE], if you noticed, was printed somewhat after the German fashion. Now, a real German invariably prints in the Latin character, so that we may safely say that this was not written by one, but by a clumsy imitator who overdid his part. It was simply a ruse to divert inquiry into a wrong channel.

What? A German fashion of writing?

OKAY. It turns out that, prior to World War II, German was written in different scripts than other European languages, which the University of Wisconsin has documented for us because German immigrants continued to use them.

Here are a snipper of UW's examples of Kurrent and Sütterlin, as well as capital letters from Wikimedia's Fraktur.

The Fraktur A looks so much like a U that I can't believe Lestrade wouldn't have read the word as "ruche" and decided the victim was a dressmaker.

Calligrascapes gives examples of Spencerian (U.S.) and Copperplate (UK) handwriting of the late Victorian period here. Lower-case A looks almost the same as in Kurrent. I feel like our wall-scrawler must have used Sütterlin.

That our killer is familiar with a German A implies he either reads German comfortably or corresponds regularly with people of German ancestry. Since Holmes says "a real German" would use Latin letters (so he corresponds with Germans or visits Germany), killer is presumably familiar with a German-American community, which is certainly plausible if he's from Ohio (or Pennsylvania, or much of the Upper Midwest).

Whew.

Holmes' passing mention of going "to Halle's concert to see Norman Neruda" is about seeing Czech violinist Wilma Norman-Neruda perform at an occasion organized by Anglo-German pianist and conductor Sir Charles Hallé (also Norman-Neruda's future second husband).

Finally, we arrive at the home of Constable Rance. Last episode, it was given as Audley Court, Kennington Toll Gate. The latter part is a real place, the site of a toll gate that was demolished about 15 years before the time of the story. Here's an old photo shared by The Underground Map.

Today the site of the toll gate is a plaza with public art.

The "long succession of dingy streets and dreary by-ways" suggests the cab ride was to somewhere near the old toll gate site (possibly just west of St. Mark's Church, which is the tower in the background), rather than directly to the triangle of land where it sat. There's not a lot of space right there, due to Kennington Park, which has a long history as a public common and site of hangings.

I suspect any police constable trying to live in London today would sympathize with Rance's living in a "sordid dwelling." Rance also takes bribes.

Rance is, of course, astonished by Holmes' powers of deduction. But what was the "drunk" man singing? I was sure in my heart that "Columbine" was "Columbia" (an old-fangled term for the United States) and searching for that made it possible to cheat when I Heard of Sherlock's discussion of this matter came up in my search results. It's "Columbia, Gem of the Ocean." Here's an audio file.

“Had he a whip in his hand?”

Where on earth did a whip come from? We've no such wounds on the victim, and the killer came with him in a cab.

I might not have gone but for you, and so have missed the finest study I ever came across: a study in scarlet, eh? Why shouldn’t we use a little art jargon. There’s the scarlet thread of murder running through the colourless skein of life, and our duty is to unravel it, and isolate it, and expose every inch of it.

And... title drop! If this is the fates weaving the tapestry of life, surely it says something about Holmes that all the other threads are colorless besides murder.

[forensicated]

Woodentop - 16th August 1983.

(Taffy: "Welcome to Sun Hill Looney Bin.")

Woodentop/The Bill started off as the 4th episode in the Storyboard series. It was turned into a series that began airing just over a year later on the 16th October 1984.

The first words were spoken by Jim Carver after his (second) alarm sounded to wake him for his first day as a probationer at Sun Hill. "OK Carver, let's do it." He presents as keen and enthusiastic although obviously naive. He's promising however and came top of the class on his "Human Awareness Training" course at Hendon.

Sgt Jack Wilding (Peter Dean), Inspector Sam Deeping (Jon Croft), PC's Green, Rawlings, Wallace, Reid and Morton and 2 unamed uniform officers played by Chris Jenkinson and Richard Huw do not go onto make it into the series, however Jim, Dave Litten, June Ackland, Taffy and Roy Galloway do. Taffy has a surname change later however to Edwards as he is Dai 'Taffy' Morgan here.

"Galloping" Galloway is played by Robert Pugh, he's later recast as John Salthouse, the [original!] short ginger Jack Russell we all know and love. "Doesn't that man ever go home?" "We're in it, Jack. This is it."

PC Hollis is mentioned and his call sign is given as 375. The S for 'Sierra-Oscar' is missing from their epaulettes and only an O is present. Taffy is 101, June is 643, Jim is 600 and Dave is 201. June is the only female officer seen. Dave shows an interest in her but she isn't interested and literally rolls her eyes at his attempt to eye her up in the briefing. It appears they have had an on again/off again thing that; when off; makes the others rather uncomfortable.

Jim declares allegiance to uniform from the off, "I'm a firm believer in traditional policing methods." He explains that he wants to be on the pre-side of policing rather than the post-side (aka: when the problem has already happened). Deeping warns him he felt the same when he first joined and says he might change his mind a few months in.

Taffy asks about Dave's 'exam results' and then says he has 6 more weeks to go to his own; laughing that Wilding is making Litten sweat. June later explains that Dave has just finished a 2-week attachment to CID and "now CID are his Gods, especially DI Galloway." Dave has been waiting 2 months to see if he's passed an exam to allow him to join CID properly.

June is tasked with puppy walking "Jim-Jim". She reflects on how stupid it is to still have the W in front of her job title (WPC/WDC/WDS etc), pointing out that it doesn't matter if they're male or female - they're still police constables.

Jim is confused when she asks a paperboy his name. June explains that a paperboy would know who is away as he wouldn't have to deliver to them for a specified amount of time. She suggests CID might have overlooked it when investigating a spate of robberies. Jim is amazed and she assures him he'll soon learn and pick up little tricks like that. Soon after they are asked to check in on an elderly lady who hasn't been seen in weeks. Sadly the lady has passed in the bath and the obvious has started to happen to her body. Both are horrified though Jim tries to protect June from seeing it. "Poor old Jim Jim, first time out. First day even!"

During a pep talk, Jack Wilding reminds June to never get emotionally involved with anyone in the job - if only she'd listened…! (cough Dave, Gordon, Jim, Tony, Gabriel and Roger). "You're too classy for the likes of Dave Litten! If I were 10 years younger!"

Dave takes Jim 'walkies' for the afternoon, Dave loves showing off to the newbie and claims he'll soon be out of uniform and with CID.

In the briefing, Jim and the others were told to get to know the youths who are upsetting locals by hanging around in groups. He was encouraged to keep a professional distance as an officer, to earn respect and to remain firm but fair. During their walkabout, Jim dishes out a slap round the back of the head to a youth who tries to escape him and Dave. Dave immediately pulls him aside and tells him that he shouldn't have done that and they're pulled in to see Wilding. Wilding warns Jim that he could be suspended on his first day if the boy's family takes it further and sends him and Dave home early.

Wilding has to ask Galloway to help him as the lad Jim assaulted is Galloway's big robbery suspect's son. After butting heads, Roy reluctantly agrees and takes Jack to see his suspect, making it clear that Jack owes him one and that he's only doing it for Dave who he sees real CID potential in.

Jack buys the drinks and explains to Mr Taylor about his new PC collaring his son and friend for 'scrumping. Taylor jumps to the conclusion that Jim would have wanted to get his first arrest under his belt and claims he should have just given him a thick ear and sent him home like the good old days. Jack explains that that is exactly what Jim did, making Taylor laugh. "There's hope for your lot yet."

Jim lives to see another day and we end back in bed with Jim (ooh er!) setting his alarm for the morning.

[rotten-downer]

⚠️ TW: Emotional and mental abuse, mention of parent death ⚠️

Back when he was nearly 18, Horus became a constable with the hopes that it would finally make his cold father proud.

- - - - - - - -

Pride

His eyes run over himself, taking in the brilliant blue hue of his uniform. Slowly, gloved hands run over his torso as he takes it all in, all while mentally preparing his words for his father.

This was it. This would be what would finally make that callous man proud.

For years, ever since he was a child, Horus did everything he could to hear his father's praise, to make him proud of his son. He pushed himself in school, isolating himself from the other children to focus on his studies so he could always remain at the top of his class. When he was a teenager, the other boys were hooking up with girls and playing sports, and Horus always kept his nose buried in his books, staying late after class to finish homework or prepare for upcoming tests.

Childhood was a time to be social, to develop relationships with others and develop social skills. Yet Horus hardly ever interacted with his peers unless absolutely necessary. He kept quiet, kept to himself. He never had a friend, never had playdates. Girls would try to flirt with him, and he would simply brush them off. All of that stuff was a distraction, as lonely as he may be as a result.

He had to be good. He always had to be better.

Because he was never, ever good enough. And a part of him was worried he never would be.

So when he had been accepted as a police constable after graduating at the top of his class, Horus was sure that this would be the thing to finally catch his father's attention.

All he wanted to hear was that his dad was proud of him. That's all he's wanted, all he had ever pushed himself so hard for.

Glancing at himself one more time, Horus takes in a soft breath before leaving his bedroom, making his way downstairs to where his father sat in his usual chair, reading the newspaper.

Horus stands stiffly at the bottom of the stairs, clearing his throat. "....May I talk with you…sir?"

Without even glancing towards Horus, his father grunts softly in response. Taking that as a 'yes', Horus steps into the living room, lingering to the side of his father.

"....I got accepted into the constabulary."

His father continues to read without a word, before peering over his paper at his son. He looks over the police uniform, before returning to his newspaper. "Good luck with that."

The dismissive tone in his father's voice felt like a weight had been dropped on his heart. Horus's hands grasp at the bottom of his uniform, squeezing the fabric tightly as he stares at his father. "I graduated at the top of my class." He urges further, hoping for some sort of reaction from the man, any sign of positivity or encouragement or congratulations from the man.

With an exasperated sigh, his father looks at him again. "What do you want, a medal? Can't you see I'm busy, Horus?"

As his father dismisses him once again, Horus's breathing quickens as his gaze drops down towards his feet. Disappointment floods over him at the response. This wasn't right…what did he do wrong? He should be proud, shouldn't he? So what had Horus done wrong…?

"...Nothing I do will ever be good enough, will it…?" Horus murmurs, his amber eyes low as the corners of his tear ducts begin to burn with angry tears.

His father cocks a brow at him. "What's that? You need to speak up."

"Nothing I could do would ever be good enough for you!" The teen snaps, lifting his eyes to stare hatefully at his father. "I try and I try and I will never, ever be good enough for you!! I've never had a life because of you! I've never had any friends because I've always worked hard just to hear you say that you're proud of me! Is it so hard for you to be proud of your only bloody child?!"

His father stares at him and lowers his papers with a scoff. "What's there to be proud of? What have you done that makes you think you're so deserving of my praise? You've always been a bloody burden on me, Horus. I don't care if you became the Queen of England, because you have and will always be a worthless boy."

Horus's breath catches on a sob as he clenches his hands into tight fists. "I hate you!! I've always hated you!! I've only ever wanted you to love me, I have done nothing wrong to you!! Mother is lucky she never had to see you treat her son like this!"

His father moves quickly, rising from his chair and striking his son across the face. Horus gasps, holding a hand to his face as he looks to the adult with shock and horror, his cheek instantly flushing pink from the impact and stinging painfully. His father then grabs him by his collar, pushing him roughly against the wall.

"Don't talk about her as if you knew her!! You have no right to speak of her at all, because if it weren't for you, I would still have my Marissa…She died giving birth to you, and I wish that you were the one to die instead!"

Horus's chest heaves with panic as his father gets physical with him. His hands grasp onto his father's wrists to try and pull his hands away, a wince leaving him as a picture frame digs into his back. "Let me go….you're hurting me…."

His father's grip doesn't loosen. He brings his face close to Horus's, his eyes narrowed in anger. "Maybe now that you're a constable, you'll end up dead and the world would have one less worthless pile of shit plaguing it….No matter what you do, you will never amount to shit, Horus…."

Horus clenches his eyes shut, another sob leaving his throat as he lowers his head. His father finally releases him with a disgusted sneer.

"It's a curse that I even brought you into this world…If I could trade your life for hers, I would in an instant…."

Even though he was now released, Horus remains with his back pressed against the wall, his shoulders shuddering with his uneven breaths and the tears that fall down his cheeks. His eyes fixated on the carpet, all he can manage is a soft whisper in response to the cruel words of his father:

"....I know."

Without even another glance towards Horus, his father turns away and storms off towards his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him and making Horus's body jolt at the loud sound. Staring at the now closed door of his father, Horus couldn't fight his tears anymore as sob after sob leaves his lips as he hugs himself tightly, his fingers pushing painfully into his arms.

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"Dancing Doll No Mystery," Border Cities Star. May 9, 1934. Page 3. --- Constable Labelle Has Exposed Trickery Of Joseph Jubenville ---- Thread Is Secret ---- And So Welcome at East Windsor Jail Is Now Worn Out ---- By Thomas R. Brophey The jig is up, Joseph. For a number of days now, a young man who signs himself Joseph Jubenville of Joliet, Quebec, has been mystifying all comers at the East Windsor police station with his dancing doll and sundry other tricks. But Constable Reginald Labelle of the East Windsor Police Department has done a little investigating on his own, with the result that Joseph's welcome has been worn out at the East Windsor jail.

STEADY VISITOR For a week or so, Joseph has been signing the lodgers' register at the East Windsor police station nightly. Previous to that he stopped at the Windsor jail, paying for his "room" by amusing with his dancing doll.

How fleeting is fame!! A few weeks ago "Dancing Dan" Maloney could create quite a sensation around the East Windsor police station with a few sleight of hand tricks. But then "Dancing Dan" went to jail for two months and Joseph Jubenville and his dancing doll appeared on the scene. Immediately Joseph became the "talk of the town." Joseph would take his little cardboard doll and sit on the police department floor, start humming, "Teedle- eedle-eedle-eedle, teedle-um-tum-tum" and the little doll would dance, right in step. start to

"PREPARATIONS" The dancing, of course, was preceded by a lot of "preparations" that at no time fooled the police, but they always watched them carefully. Joseph would put his little doll over a lamp "to warm it," and would then blow away at its head and tap it several times in the stomach with a little wand. Then Joseph would address his doll in French and it would begin to dance.

For the dancing trick Joseph always squatted on the floor, allowing the doll to dance between his knees. And now that they think of it, he always picked a dark corner of the room.

Anyway, Joseph was quite a sensation. His doll performed for everyone in the East Windsor city hall and on court day a special performance was put on for visiting notables from down town, Magistrate Smith, the Crown Attorney and an assortment of lawyers.

IT'S UNCANNY "Uncanny!" exclaimed the spectators as they watched the little cardboard doll flit about the floor, obeying Joseph's French instructions to the letter.

But Contable Labelle now throws back the veil. It was just a little black thread, suspended between Joseph's two knees, that was responsible for the trick. Quite simple! The thread was always there and ready for the trick. Joseph had just to slip the doll over the thread, start humming and tapping away with his wand-and the doll would dance.

And Joseph had another trick. Just place a cigaret on the floor and he would make it follow his thumb, Mysterious business until you "catch on." Constable Labelle explains that Joseph shoved the cigaret along with his breath. It's all so simple when you know how.

And as for Joseph's "disappearing cigaret," Constable Labelle looked through his clothing and found an elastic contraption leading to a "cigaret cage" underneath Joseph's coat. So there you are, Joseph. You'll have to find a new police station to use as a rooming house, it seems. For Con- stable Labelle, confounded by your trickery long enough, has finally solved your tricks. And now he announces that the next time you call around the station, he's going to give you a swift kick.

How fleeting is fame!

[ncisfranchise-source]

NCIS: Sydney will feel very familiar to fans of CBS’ well-watched franchise, while also being uniquely Australian, showrunner Morgan O’Neill tells TVLine in the exclusive Q&A below.

The premise for NCIS: Sydney: As international tensions rise in the Indo-Pacific, a brilliant and eclectic team of U.S. NCIS Agents and the Australian Federal Police (AFP) are grafted into a multi-national task force, to keep naval crimes in check in the most contested patch of ocean on the planet.

The cast also includes Sean Sagar (Fate: The Winx Saga) as NCIS Special Agent DeShawn Jackson, Tuuli Narkle (Bad Behaviour) as AFP Liaison Officer Constable Evie Cooper, Mavournee Hazel (Neighbours) as AFP Forensic Scientist Bluebird “Blue” Gleeson, and William McInnes (Blue Heelers) as AFP Forensic Pathologist Dr. Roy Penrose.

The first international NCIS offshoot’s eight-episode season will premiere on CBS on Tuesday, Nov. 14 at 8/7c, and also be available live and on demand that night for Paramount+ with Showtime subscribers. (“Regular” Paramount+ Essential subscribers can stream each episode the day after it airs.)

Check out the exclusive key art poster above (click to zoom), then read on to see what series boss Morgan O’Neill has to say about the NCIS franchise’s trip to the land Down Under….

TVLINE | What was the genesis of NCIS: Sydney? Was CBS looking for an NCIS set on another continent, or was it, “We need a show for Paramount+ Australia”? MORGAN O’NEILL | I think it was more the former, although the latter is probably a good upside for it, too. My understanding is that CBS was looking to expand the franchise beyond [the northern] hemisphere. Since the show revolves around naval crimes, naturally they looked at “the world’s largest island,” and then they pitched the idea to Bev McGarvey who runs Paramount+ Australia. She’s a massive fan of the franchise, so she said, “Let me take it to Endemol Shine Australia (ESA).” They then came to me and said, “We have this incredible opportunity to expand one of the world’s biggest franchises into Australia. How the hell would you do it?” I got together with the head of scripted at ESA and worked up what this show might look like and pitched it back to Paramount+ and to CBS. They flipped for it at lightning speed, which almost never happens in our industry.

TVLINE | Is there anything that a U.S. viewer should know before watching this, with regards to what’s different about law enforcement in Australia? The first and most obvious difference is that while NCIS exists in Australia in real life, they don’t have the same kind of jurisdictional authority as they would in the U.S., because they’re in a foreign country. So when NCIS works in Australia they work in conjunction with our highest law enforcement agencies — in particular the Australian Federal Police, which are our equivalent of the FBI. From the perspective of our show, what’s going to be very, very different is that it’s effectively the first “blended family” where NCIS has to form a team with the Australian Federal Police and operate in conjunction with them.

It’s Australians and Americans working not always in concert, but certainly together, and working through cultural differences, working through the clashes that would naturally exist when you bring two disparate organizations together. But ultimately they find that there is this core DNA that they share between the two organizations that actually bonds them into a team really quickly, but with unexpected results.

TVLINE | So, each case will need to involve some sort of U.S. serviceman…? Absolutely. The basic premise that NCIS has to find a connection, a nexus back to the U.S. Navy, will continue, but what’s interesting in Australia is that it’s not just the Navy. If there is something that happens in Australia in the Army or the Air Force or the Coast Guard that pertains to the U.S., NCIS does the investigations. So, in a funny way they actually have a bigger remit than they do in the U.S. because they’re looking after the four other arms of the Armed Forces.

TVLINE | What are some fun character dynamics to watch for? Well, No. 1 on the call sheet, the person who gets to kind of call the shots out here, is [NCIS Special Agent] Michelle Mackey (played by Olivia Swann). She’s a former Marine captain/chopper pilot and somewhat of a maverick, so she’s kind of a problem child who’s been handed around NCIS for a little while as they figure out how to handle her. She drops into Australia where we are, in and of ourselves — how should I put it nicely for my fellow countrymen? — a bit “antiauthoritarian.” So sparks fly naturally, which is great.

Then there’s a core group of characters, which in some ways will feel familiar to an NCIS audience, because they know that in the world of the show there are investigators and forensic pathologists and forensic scientists involved. They’ll look at the show and see a familiar architecture to it, but three-quarters of them are Australians and that makes for a very, very different experience. A lot of the things that Americans take for granted about the world will be put up into relief here a bit, and interrogated, but ultimately what’s fascinating about these characters and the first season of this show is that it doesn’t actually take very long to realize that they’re kind of cut from the same cloth.

TVLINE | Did you try to cast the Australian side of the cast with 100% percent Australians? How did that net out? It’s interesting — the show is an entirely Australian show. Its cast, it’s crewed, it’s written by, it’s produced by, and it’s commissioned by Australians. All of the Australian characters are Australians, and that’s 95% of the cast including guest cast. But when you work on a show that’s as big as NCIS, which is is 200 territories, in 60 different languages, with trillions of hours of this show watched, the great relief from a showrunner’s point of view is that I don’t really have to go out and find “stars.” The show is already the star; I just get to cast the greatest actors on the planet! So we were able to cast really wide, really broadly, to find the best actors to slide into these pretty unique roles. And we were able to find a couple of actors out of the UK, as it would happen, who are just remarkable, in Olivia Swann and Sean Sagar.

TVLINE | I know Olivia from Legends of Tomorrow, and she’s great. She’s incredible, and I had sort of been following both her and Sean. I’m a huge fan of [director] Guy Ritchie and Sean is one of Guy Ritchie’s favorite actors to work with.

I’ve worked on a lot of shows and I’m a huge believer in the idea that whatever the vibe is amongst the humans that make the show somehow translates to the screen. And in this case, as we wrapped production on Season 1, even though some actors when they wrap you never see them again, they kept coming back to set. In fact, Olivia wrapped up on the very last day of shooting, but Todd Lasance, who is her No. 2, made a point to be there. It’s a real vibe, and we’re really excited to see what the rest of the world thinks.

TVLINE | Will there be nods to any other NCIS shows along the way? “I once met Leroy Jethro Gibbs at a conference…” or something? Look, there are a couple of little Easter eggs there. I won’t spoil them, but they’re definitely there. One of the things that I think audiences love about this show is the fact that it feels like a universe, not individual shows. And while they each have their own DNA, I think that’s what was really clever about the way CBS developed this franchise is they didn’t go out to make the same show twice. If you look at the original show, the mothership, it’s very different from L.A.…

TVLINE | Oh, NCIS: LA was chasing stolen nuclear materials, like, every other week! Correct. Each show gets a different tonality, a different vibe, a different pace, a different rhythm, a different color palette, a different sensibility. I feel like what CBS did really cleverly was they realized that they needed to expand the audience and to expand the universe, but not just replicate it. So when they came to us, I kind of sat down and watched about 950 episodes of NCIS [programs] in the space of a few weeks to get myself up to speed — I feel like I have a PhD in NCIS! — and what I realized was that they were looking to capture the authenticity of a place. So I went back to [CBS Studios chief] David Stapf and his crew and said, “In order for this to be successful, I think it really has to capture that authentic rhythm, that authentic cultural sensibility of Australia — the colors, the flavor. We should lean into it.” And they said, “That’s music to our ears. Go for it.”

TVLINE | I was going to ask: After a person gets done watching this first season — and if they like me have yet to pull the trigger on an Australian vacation — will they kind of feel like they’ve been to Australia? I hope so, I really do. You’ll certainly feel like you’ve been Sydney. I’m actually kind of surprised in some ways that they haven’t come here and created a franchise sooner. As I said to you before, Australia is the world’s largest island and Sydney Harbor is the world’s largest harbor. And our naval base, which is called HMAS Kuttabul or Fleet Base East, is right in the middle of that harbor. Like, our entire East Coast Navy Base fleet is based in town, so you’ve got an almost indefatigable, inexhaustible supply of stories right in the middle of the world’s biggest harbor on the world’s biggest island. And then you throw in the geopolitical realities of the part of the world that we live in, in that the Indo-Pacific is kind of the hotspot for all sorts of geopolitical tensions right now. It’s the most hotly contested patch of ocean.

TVLINE | The trailer plays that up a lot. I mean, that’s the situation. Pick up the New York Times and I dare you not to find an article about tensions between China and the Philippines, or contested maritime rights in the South China Sea. It’s an incredibly diverse and vibrant part of the world. Indonesia, the largest Muslim nation on the planet, is just to our north — friends of Australia obviously, but it’s diverse. You’ve got one of the world’s biggest shipping nations in Singapore [3,900 miles away]. You’ve got the world’s second biggest island, Papua New Guinea, right there. You’ve got all these islands dotted across the Pacific, which fall under our sphere of economic cooperation, in terms of the Solomon Islands and Vanuatu, and all of them are contested places at the moment. There are lots of forces vying for economic, military, social partnership.

The trailer mentions the AUKUS Agreement, a military alliance between Australia, the U.S. and the UK, which has only recently been signed. It’s a big deal and it’s literally there because we are in a really contested patch of the world right now. The show tries not to too political, obviously — that’s part of the appeal of it, I think — but the reality is we have basically an endless supply of stories pulled from the front page of the newspaper that seem to be really applicable.

Photo : CBS

TVLINE | What specific sites or locations were you excited to squeeze into the show? When we started out, we looked at the Australian Navy base in the middle of the harbor, which is where all the American ships come into, and said, “Wow, it’d be fun to get on that, wouldn’t it? It’d be fun to be able to shoot on the actual operating Navy base.” So, we contacted the Australian Navy and said, “Look, we have this little show you might’ve heard of — NCIS? We’ll be doing a franchise here in Sydney, would you like to help out?” And believe it or not they said, “We’d love to, send us a letter with all the things you feel like you might need across the season.” I went, “Well, we need Seahawk helicopters, and we need access to your biggest ships, we’d like to get onboard your subs, we’d like to work and shoot on your Navy bases all around the country, we’d like to get some air assets….” And they came back and they were just incredibly supportive.

In the trailer, that Navy Seahawk helicopter flying at 50 feet above Sydney Harbor? That’s a real one. There’s no CG. We had to clear the harbor, we had an air exclusion zone, and we had the pilots from the Australian Navy flying up from their base down south and landing on a small aircraft carrier and taking off. It was an incredible thrill.

TVLINE | Were there any more “touristy” locales you filmed at? When you film on Sydney Harbor you kind of spin the camera around and see the Harbor Bridge, you see the Opera House, you see this vast harbor….. We shot at Bondi Beach, which is Australia’s most famous beach. We shot in Kings Cross, which anyone who’s ever been a U.S. serviceman arriving in Sydney will know; it’s the red light district just up the hill from the base, so it’s seen its fair share of U.S. servicemen and women across the years, in all capacities.

One of the things that people think about when they think of Australia is the Outback. Obviously Sydney is not in the Outback, it’s a big urban center, but not too far away you drive up into the mountains and suddenly you’re in this pristine wilderness that’s very uniquely, quintessentially Australian. So, we find ourself up there.

TVLINE | And that lets you include a kangaroo and koala in the trailer! It does!

TVLINE | Someone at CBS was like, “Yeah, we saw your first pass at the trailer, and there’s no kangaroo. You’ve gotta give them a kangaroo.” It was a shameless plug for Australian wildlife, what can I say?

[weshallc]

Bern's Night (part of the Crown Jewels series, Call the Midwife AU)

(Previously published on A03 and FF.net nothing new, sorry.)

Chapter One: Fair Fa' Your Honest, Sonsie Face

“Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face, Great chieftain o’ the pudding-race! Aboon them a’ ye tak your place, Painch, tripe, or thairm : Weel are ye wordy o'a grace As lang’s my arm.” Address to a Haggis by Robert Burns 1786.

"Will You Recognize Me? Call My Name Or Walk On By." Don't You (Forget About Me), Simple Minds 1985

Monday 25th January 2016

“His knife see rustic Labour dight, An’ cut you up wi’ ready sleight, Trenching your gushing entrails bright, Like ony ditch; And then, O what a glorious sight, Warm-reekin’, rich!”

The room was swept in darkness apart from the light of the wolf moon and the North Star penetrating the cold window panes. All eyes were facing towards a wooden table and the elderly man stood behind it. He was in his late 60s and wiry, small for a man, but with a silver mess of what once must have been a bonnie head of fire red hair. The body may have looked weak, but the intensity in his bright blue eyes cut through the dimly lit surroundings.

As he spoke again, his voice filled the room, cutting through the anticipating silence. It was a voice that could take a knife and slice right through a soul. The knife in his hand in turn sliced through the offering in front of its high priest. Years of performing the same action with such a passion resulted in precision. The faithful entranced by the spectacle all gasped as one, as the incision was violently made. No one dared to speak. Suddenly the trance was lost as artificial light rudely brought everyone back to the present with a blast of the pipes.

“All done then Reverend Mannion? Can I serve the Haggis now? Don’t want it getting cold now do we, not at £15 a head.”

“Aye, Violet the ceremony is over, it’s time for eating and drinking something the bard would have approved of, rightly so.”

The kilted clergyman winked at an auburn haired girl in the crowd and tipped his whisky tumbler toward her. She raised her own glass and winked back. Her companion at her table was much taller with dark hair styled in a tidy no-nonsense bob.

The tall one leaned toward the small one and asked, “If it’s already dead, why does he have to kill it?”

“What?”

“The Haggis if it’s already dead why does he have to kill it?”

Her friend opened her mouth to speak, but she saw a tender hand take hold of Chummy’s arm and explain it was all just ceremony, it was tradition.

“Like all that malarkey at our passing out parade, the day we got our badge. That wasn’t about police work, was it? It’s just tradition. It’s what the English do well.”

He had been doing really well up until then, but a golden raised eyebrow made him alter his stance. “It is what us Brits do best.”

The raised eyebrow whispered to the police constable. "Peter, Chummy really doesn’t think a haggis is a real animal, does she?”

He was not the kind of man that would turn heads, but he had a kindness in his eyes and an openness in his face that she thought some would see as attractive. If only Camilla wasn’t his superior and they didn’t work such long hours together, what might have been?

She knew her friend well and sensed more queries would follow. Not sure as a Scot brought up on Tweavenside and now living in London, she could provide satisfying answers. Picking up their empty glasses and heading to the bar was a strange sort of refuge for a vicar’s daughter and inner-city missionary.

There was a queue, well, sort of a queue. In London, a queue was made up of people standing in an orderly line and the person who had been stood the longest getting served first. In Poplar-on-Tweaven it resembled more of a rugby scrum and the person who shouted the loudest being ignored and anyone who called the barmaid by name being bunked up the order. She wasn’t familiar with busy bars, but she was bright enough to work out the system.

“Val, when yer ready, hen.” The request came from someone not sure that was their own voice they had just heard yelling those exact words.

All her life, she had been immersed in the wonders of the Bible and was still amazed at how so many miracles had been performed. She had heard all the CPR arguments regarding resurrections and all that, and was still not convinced. But she now knew how Moses had parted the Red Sea. He had known the barmaid’s name was Valerie.

“What can I get you, chick?”

“Here! I was first.” A grumpy voice struck up.

“Oh Al, you are always first. Let me serve this lass and then I will sort you out.”

“Promises, promises.”

“Yeah, in your dreams, pal.”

She was starting to feel uncomfortable. She hadn’t meant to jump the queue. Maybe she should go back to the table and let Peter get the drinks. A man’s voice interrupted her thoughts. It was quieter than Al’s but held an authority. It wasn’t a Tweavenside accent, but it had a northern softness.

“You serve our impatient friend, Valerie. I will see to this young lady.” Then turning to his new customer, “What can I get you, pet”

“Erm, a whisky and lemonade and erm a pint, please.”

“Which whisky and a pint of..?”

She wasn’t sure; she nudged her bottom onto a vacant stool for security.

“Are you with the law?” The tall bartender nodded towards Chummy and Peter.

“Yes, yes, I am.”

“OK, so that’s a Famous Grouse and diet lemonade, just a dash. And a pint of Buckles Best. And for you?”

He stepped back a minute. “Your Reverend Wilf’s daughter?”

"Yes, I am.” Bernie suddenly felt more sure of herself. She was never completely certain of who she was when back in Poplar.

“Bernadette?” The stranger was grinning now, his brown eyes glinting under the harsh bar spotlights. Or were they green?

“Well, that’s my Sunday name. Most people call me Bernie, even Dad.”

“Well, since I’ve never seen you in here on a Sunday or any other day. I will call you Bernie. I am Patrick Turner. Most people call me Paddy, a few Doc.”

“Oh no, you won’t have seen me here on a Sunday or any other day. I live in London now and before that, well, I am not a big drinker.”

“What can I get you then?” asked Paddy loitering near the coke and lemonade pumps.

“A gin and tonic please, better make it a double. It’s quite busy, save me coming back.”

Paddy smiled. “Premium gin?”

“Yes.”

While the optic was emptying into the glass, he asked, “You must have known this old place when Evie ran it?”

“Yes, I know Evie and J..Jenny”

“Oh yes. Jen was here when me and the wife took over. She was a great help. We get a text every now and again, doing well for herself now all loved up.” He winked at her as he ended the sentence, causing her to panic slightly.

“I was sorry to hear about your loss.” She wished she hadn’t said it.

Val had seemed to deal with ten customers to Paddy’s one and now there were just the two of them alone at the bar. He looked at her in a sort of a non-direct, sort of direct way, under that infuriating fringe she wanted to reach out and push back.

“Loss is as much a part of love as is healing,” he replied with a hint of melancholy, but without irony.

She was stunned and tried to find a corresponding Bible verse, but she drew a blank.

She focused on what was real and what was present. Her dad had taught her to do that. What was in front of her at this precise moment was a glass of gin and ice and a twist of lime. He was now unscrewing a bottle of Mediterranean slimline tonic.

She yelped, “No!” as he lay the bottle alongside the glass.

“Sorry, most people add the tonic to the gin and I cannae bear it drowned.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Surely that would be very presumptuous of me.”

“Aye well, most people I’ve met are very presumptuous.”

“Maybe you have spent too much time in London. if you don’t mind me saying, Bernie.”

“Well, to be fair, we don’t spend a lot of time sitting on stools and propping up bars in my part of London.”

“More’s the pity.”

“Can I bother you for a…”

Paddy popped a black straw into her tumbler.

“I will make sure when you come home next time, none of my staff will be presumptuous.”

“Oh, I doubt you will remember me, Paddy. I only come up to see my Da. I can’t imagine you will be seeing much of me in the future, hardly likely that I would ever be considered a regular.”

“Now, who is being presumptuous?”

Bernie went to put the straw between her lips but paused, realising the stranger was still watching her, she suddenly felt uncomfortable. As heat rose in her cheeks and she suddenly felt awkward on the stool, squirming to find some sort of comfortable position. The stranger smiled in a way she could not understand; it wasn’t smug or suggestive, but as if there were sharing a joke, but she wasn’t sure what the joke was.

She hopped off her seat, for a brief moment realising her arse was in the air, and prayed he had altered his gaze. Focusing anywhere but behind the bar, she grabbed her glass and bottle in one hand, put the whisky against her elbow and waist, the pint in her other hand, turned and swiftly moved toward her thirsty friends.

Shelagh Bernadette Mannion, don't you dare look back and see if he is watching you he is recently widowed with a son, Da said. He is, what do they call them now, a bloomer or something like that? God has shown you his path for you and it certainly does not include the Crown Inn, Poplar-on-Tweaven.

He is still watching me. I can feel it.

[sarkaariresult]

UP Police Constable Sports Quota Result

UP Police Constable Sports Quota Result has recently released , So If you want to check it or know complete details about this exam and many others . Now you can SEE HERE

[scotianostra]

On December 30th 1969 two police officers died of bullet wounds during a raid on a house in Allison Street, Glasgow; a third was wounded.

Police in Glasgow still remember the murder of two officers, when one of their ex colleagues was spotted with a suspicious package after robbing a bank in Linwood. The horrifying case was led by an ex police officer, who was in jail until 2002.

Shortly after 4pm two officers were shot dead by a man seen acting suspiciously outside a flat in Govanhill on the south side of the city. Their suspect had just taken part in an armed robbery and was carrying the proceeds into the Allison Street tenement in suitcases.

When the two cops followed their man into the ground floor apartment, unaware of the earlier hold-up, he pulled out a gun and shot them dead. The double murder was all the more shocking because it was carried out by a former police officer and colleagu

A few hours later Howard Wilson, married with a young family, was sitting in his police cell in nearby Craigie Street Police Office confessing both murders to his bewildered lawyer Joe Beltrami.

Nineteen years later in his memoir Tales of the Suspected, Beltrami wrote: “As I listened to him. I kept asking myself what could have possessed him.

“He looked more like a businessman than a criminal.”

Wilson had quit the City of Glasgow police in 1968 after 10 years’ service when he failed to get promotion to sergeant.

Instead he opened a greengrocers, The Orchard in nearby Mount Florida. But the outlet, along with another shop he’d bought, was losing money.

His two best friends former prison officer Ian Donaldson, 31, and ex-cop John Sim, 21, both had young families and were also strapped for cash. During one late evening drinking session they joked about robbing a bank to solve all their financial worries. However, the morning after the night before it began to sound like a plan.

Who would suspect two former cops and a prison officer? They had no criminal records and their fingerprints were not on file. The money would also be used to pay off debts so it would disappear as quickly as it had been stolen.

Thus the pieces of a jigsaw were put in place that would result in a cold blooded double execution almost six months later.

The trio recruited a fourth man – Archibald McGeachie – to be their getaway driver, and bought a Russian pistol from the president of the Bearsden Shooting Club, of which all three were members. On July 16, dressed in smart suits and carrying briefcases they walked into the British Linen Bank in Giffnock, East Renfrewshire, and escaped with £20,876 (£270,000 now).

All three, however, were broke again by Christmas and, having got away with it once, planned another heist – this time a branch of the Clydesdale in Linwood, Renfrewshire on December 30.

However, McGeachie took cold feet and declined the job of getaway driver, leaving his three pals to do the job on their own.

On December 23, a week before, the second hold up, he disappeared from his home and was never been seen again.

His fellow robbers escaped this time with £14,000 – much of it in silver coins – which later proved significant when they were all spotted by a suspicious Inspector Andrew Hyslop transporting the suitcases. He recognised Wilson who he had once trained in the use of firearms.

Inspector Hyslop also suspected the trio were carrying stolen whisky, as he didn’t know about the bank robbery. He confronted all three in Wilson’s ground floor flat, having called in reinforcements from Craigie Street.

When the inspector bent down to open one of the cases, his former colleague shot him in the face. Detective Constable Angus MacKenzie and PC Edward Barnett, were then both shot in the head when they tried to arrest him.

As they fell, Wilson calmly stepped up to DC MacKenzie and shot him again, killing him outright.

His accomplice Donaldson had fled the flat, while Sim watched in horror. Wilson turned his attention to another former colleague PC John Sellars, who had taken refuge in the bathroom to radio for help but he couldn’t get through the door. Wilson then noticed Inspector Hyslop beginning to move on the floor, and went to finish him off.

A fifth officer, Detective Constable John Campbell flung himself across the hall at Wilson before he could fire again, saving his colleagues’ life.

DC Campbell managed to wrestle the gun from Wilson just as his fellow officers alerted by the sound of gunfire rushed into the flat.

There they found a scene of unimaginable horror. DC MacKenzie had been killed outright while PC Barnett would die five days later in hospital.

Wilson only seemed to regret only what he had done to DC MacKenzie, whose wife June he knew personally. As he was led away, he asked the arresting officers if they would apologise to her on his behalf.

When the three appeared at Glasgow Sheriff Court on February 6, 1970, Wilson admitted the murders of Detective Constable McKenzie and Constable Barnett, attempting to murder Inspector Hyslop, threatening to shoot Constable Sellars, and to the bank robberies at Giffnock and Linwood. A week later, at the High Court in Edinburgh, Wilson was sentenced to life, with a recommendation that he should serve a minimum of 25 years. Donaldson and Sim were given 12 years each for their parts in the robberies.

Later that year it was announced that the Queen had approved awards of the George Medal to Inspector Hyslop and Detective Constable Campbell. Awards of the Queen’s Police Medal for Gallantry were posthumously awarded to Detective Constable McKenzie and Constable Barnett. In 1971, PC Sellars was awarded the Glasgow Corporation medal for bravery by the Lord Provost.

Detective Constable McKenzie left a widow, June, and Constable Barnett a widow, Margaret, and two children.

Of the three officers who survived, Inspector Hyslop suffered most as bullet parts had been left deeply embedded in his neck. After many months on sick leave Inspector Hyslop returned to duty. But the shock of his terrible experience had left him unfit to carry on and in June, 1971, he had to resign from the force and died on the island of Islay in 2000, aged 74.

In December 2009, on the 40th anniversary of the murders, Alastair organised a memorial service at Linn Crematorium in Castlemilk where the two officers are buried side by side, attended by their widows.

In September 2002, Wilson was finally freed after almost 33 years behind bars despite strenuous objections from the Scottish Police Federation.

At the time its chairman Norman Flowers, said: “We feel that anyone who murders a police officer should never be released. Life should mean life.”

More facts about this brutal crime can be found here http://www.policemuseum.org.uk/the-allison-street-police.../

[masterofrecords]

Angstober day 2: Anxiety

Wreving

It was late enough that Nate let himself take a swig from the flask he kept in his desk drawer. No one would see – if there were any perks to being chief police inspector, it was getting his own office.

Frankly though, he hardly felt deserving of all that space.

Even the case that had landed him the promotion, the explosion at the University, didn’t seem as resolved as it was on paper. The arrest had been utterly bizarre, and mostly the result of work of that detective woman – and perhaps some other, stranger forces.

Something was wrong with his city – if it was even his – and Nate didn’t know what it was, didn’t even know where to start trying to understand.

Nate wasn’t a superstitious person. He was never one to be fooled by charlatans and magicians, didn’t have his fortune told even for fun. He prided himself on his rational thinking.

But there were strange things happening, things where he felt left out. From his big case being suddenly taken from him once he had the perpetrator in custody, to the persistent rumors of monsters seen in the city and around it, he kept grasping at straws trying to figure out if there was some bigger conspiracy at play or if he was finally going mad after the years of service.

“Inspector Russel?” a young constable cracked the door open, eyes so wide with confusion that Nate forgot to tell him off for not knocking. “Sir, uh, there’s been… an incident.”

“What now?” Nate frowned. “A murder?”

“No, sir, uh…” the constable looked behind him and slid inside the office, hat clutched tightly in his hands. He shuffled closer to Nate’s desk and continued in a lower voice, “We’re getting reports that, uh, all the trains have stopped.”

“In Wreving?” Nate couldn’t hide the bewilderment in his voice. “A strike?”

“No, it’s like… they all suddenly stopped working,” the constable kept getting more and more flustered. “All of them. The Orchis workers are inspecting the ones still on the Wreving station, and if anything happened outside of town, well, I imagine it would take some times for the news to reach us. Because the trains aren’t working. Sir.”

It was tempting to leave this to the Central department. A problem of that size, it was probably up to them, no? But the train station was also in Nate’s jurisdiction, and in all the – granted, not many – years that there had been a railroad in Wreving, Nate hadn’t heard of a single case of a breakdown.

With a sigh, he got up to get his coat. Could it have been sabotage? How many trains did they know for sure were affected? Was the problem only with the locomotives? Were the civilians in any danger?

The door burst open once more, another, significantly sweatier constable stumbling in.

“If this is about the trains, I’ve already been informed,” Nate scolds him, irritated, but the constable shakes his head and takes a moment to catch his breath.

“There are… machines!” he blurted out. “In the university district! Human-like machines! Around Hope Street, but they’re on the move.”

More hurried footsteps sounded in the corridor, and Nate braced himself for more bad news.

Perhaps he should have retired when he still had a chance.