It started as one of those days for Dert Waters, Crime Fighter.
He woke up to discover crime had maintained its unhealthy hold over the neighbourhood, and the bad guys were getting bolder and more daring.
He contemplated joining them for a moment or two but decided there was far more positive press in being a crime fighter.
His community needed him, without him there’d be chaos, or so he told himself.
After a satisfying bowl of porridge, he set off for the office.
It was a small downtown place with a small waiting room and a large office mostly to accommodate his secretary Daisy May, a large woman whose turn of phrase could reduce a man to tears.
Daisy had the coffee on, the morning paper on his desk and a pile of files he struggled to see over.
“That’s just last night,” announced Daisy as he stood observing them, “You’re lucky it’s a quiet week.”
Dert saw that the newsagent had been broken into again, they really did need to change their locks, the bakery as well, fresh bread was such a lure for some people and a new target, the florist had suffered an intrusion, and their supply of gladiolas had been taken.
It was time for action, but coffee came first.
He made his way down to the florist where the owner, Madge Bud, was sweeping up the mess of her shop. She was angry; she was distraught she wanted something done.
Dert Waters, he assured her was on the job, and no flower pot would be left unturned as he sought to bring in the guilty.
It was a well-known fact in the town that Dert’s success rate was not all that good. In fact, he was the reason crime was so high. Dert was a crime fighter in name only. It gave him a feeling of superiority that he possessed something no other town person had. Failure.
Most of the town and in particular the criminal element were highly successful ‘businessmen’.
It was common knowledge to everyone, but Dert, that most businesses ran two operations, a legal one and an illegal one. They argued it helped their bottom line. For insurance purposes crimes were reported, not that they wanted them solved as that might incriminate them, but more so to give Dert something to do and off their backs.
And so, the cycle began as it did each day. Crimes reported, crimes investigated, reports filed, Dert scratching his head, knowing there was a culprit but unable to solve anything, so went home, forgot about his day, came in the next day and started all over again. It was a win-win all round and any wonder he was happy in his job.