Last night, got called out to a scene. Older bloke beaten to death. The body had been there a little while - probably around a week.
We did all the usual things, got the body sent away, made enquiries with the neighbours who were up and being
Of course, Sherlock not being here meant there was no pointy-elbowed alarm clock, so I slept in until almost six-thirty - which is the absolute limit of when I can fall out of bed, get clothes on, and get out the door and still be on time for work.
Then we hit all the lines of enquiry hard. And it eventually paid off. Got an excellent lead.
We found our suspect at his workplace.
He tried to do a runner...we were prepared for that, and had some uniform with us to cover the back entrances.
I'd just grabbed the guy, and he was struggling, when one of the PC decided to get enthusiastic with the CS Spray.
If you're a junior officer, word of advice - don't employ your CS Spray when there's a 20mph+ wind and you're the wrong side of a senior officer.
It's like getting a face full of acid. You can't breathe, or see. It feels like your face is melting off. The burning pain is indescribable. Every 'wet' part of you feels like it's being eaten away - mouth, nose, eyes... The upside was the breeze helps clear it away faster, and it's worse when it's summer and you're sweating - that makes everything a million times more heated, and it gets in all your pores, too.
So, once I and another PC who'd also got a face-full had recovered slightly, apart from the gagging and swearing and being completely unable to see anything, we started gingerly washing off our hair and stuff, and eventually got out of the worst of our clothes.
Sal brought me home, where more cold water over my head - away from my eyes - helped a bit more. And eventually a braved taking a (cold) shower. Believe me, you don't want to take a hot shower (as mentioned earlier - it gets in your pores) and you don't want to jump straight into a shower standing up...the burning...finds everywhere on the way down, if you get me.
Anyway, I'm pretty much fixed now. Apart from bright red eyes. John's been God-like and taken good care of me, while Sherlock has tried to examine every interesting part of me - and get to my clothes. Which I'll brave putting through a cold, then hot, then normal wash...at some point.
One of the forensics boys gave me a present for Sherlock last night, too - which I completely forgot about until just now, and gave to him for bedtime reading:
His eyes lit right up. (Not the same way mine have...)