Midnight calls.

Right. The Met's shrink always says it's good to write things down. And John does it. I've got to admit I'm more a 'go down the pub and sink a few pints with your mates' sort of guy usually - given that in this job your mates usually saw the same stuff you did. But since you all seem to have been following this saga since John posted about it in the small hours I suppose you don't mind hearing about it. It'll probably make the local press tomorrow anyway.



Phone went off, never a good sign, and it was the station to say there'd been a killing on my team's patch. Didn't get much detail over the 'phone, but enough to know it's an address that's know to us. Sadly, that often means it's a domestic violence case, or a vulnerable person. Uniform were on the scene, so I got up, headed to the bathroom, hoping to get out of the house with minimum fuss.

And when I opened the bathroom door to head back to the bedroom, there was a small boy and a large dog waiting for me.

John was up already, very kindly insisting on making me food, so he did his best with a sleepy Sherlock and a quiet Mycroft and two big dogs.

Long story short, when I got to the scene there was a body (stabbed), a lot of blood (didn't die straight away, got through the kitchen, into the living room). But not the body I was expecting. It was the husband. The wife immediately confessed - had already confessed to uniform. They filled me in with the fact they visit the address quite often, he was an alcoholic, violent, she'd never press charges. A sadly common story.

She said she just snapped, had enough, they were in the kitchen, she grabbed the knife.

But it just didn't add up. The position of the wounds, the blood patterns, all sorts. Anyway, the daughter was there, too, but in the end we had to take the wife away to the station, and after a while we followed, leaving forensics to do their job.

Before we got back, the daughter was already demanding to see the wife, yelling about how violent the husband had been, the years of abuse the wife had gone through. But you've got to ignore all that, for the start of it. You've got to get a statement, a clear one, which means questioning and...well, it's not very nice, and you've also got to keep an open mind.

After a bit of news from forensics, and a prelim from the pathologist, well, her story just didn't ring true.

It took a while, but in the end we worked it out. There had been a blazing row, he had got violent, abusive - he was completely drunk - and when he went for the wife, the daughter went for him. Then they kept well clear of him as he bled to death. Both confessed.

So, despite us bringing charges within about 12 hours of the crime, it's one of those jobs where you don't feel good. You haven't got a murdering bastard off the streets, you haven't protected the general public, you've just watched a family rip itself to pieces. Kids and the daughter's husband have lost a grandparent, and a mother and grandmother to jail.

And then I read this in the paper on the way home:

Police officers are likely to face pay cuts as part of a drive to make savings in the service in England and Wales, the home secretary has indicated.
Theresa May told police leaders in London that three-quarters of their budget - £11bn a year - was spent on wages.
The government is planning to cut its funding for the police by 20% by 2015.
A review of police wages and conditions will be published next week, and could consider cutting overtime payments.

Yeah, that's the Home Secretary who probably earns double what I do. Four times more than a PC on the front line.. She should give our jobs a go sometime.  I'm sure I could find someone willing to do hers.