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DI Donald Hutson hesitated outside the office. He knew he had screwed up, but he couldn't manage to feel sorry for the way things had turned out. With a lingering thought for the shot of whiskey he knew better than to drink before coming here, he pushed open the door, ready as he would ever be for the dressing down from his DCI.
The man behind the desk looked up as he entered and motioned him to a seat before turning back to a set of forms he was working on. He compared a few things with whatever was on his computer screen, then signed the forms, closed the folder, and looked at Don.
"You have been a DI for less than a month, worked here in A division for only two weeks, and I am already getting reports you started a brawl?"
"Just trying to question a suspect, Sir. Some other patrons took exception."
"I'm sure they did. And you knew better than to go in there stirring things up. What were you thinking?"
"I am thinking, sir, that we now have the suspect in custody on assault charges, along with three of his mates."
"We also have two officers requiring medical attention." his DCI said with cold anger seeping into his voice. "You, DI Hutson, are an undisciplined, disrespectful, possibly alcoholic, hothead with zero respect for authority"
Don knew exactly what he was, and while DCI Tyler's words were very close to the mark, there were reasons he was that way, and he didn't appreciate this listing of his faults. Transferring him here was just a grand exercise in passing the buck, or perhaps just a equally huge practical joke. A transfer was a lot easier to arrange than getting him fired, and Tyler had a bit of a reputation as a prick and a stickler for the rules. Don bet whoever thought up transferring him in as the man's new DI must be laughing their ass off.
"Don't judge me, you don't know me well enough for that, so just shove that disapproval right next to the stick up your arse."
Tyler gave him a long hard look.
"I'm not judging you, and when I disapprove, you will know it. Now tell me what happed."
Don was at a loss, this wasn't quite the dressing down he had expected, and his energy for maintaining his cheeky indignation was fading fast. God he was so tired. He hadn't had a full nights sleep in weeks, and the booze was only helping so much these days. He had half hoped that the exercise and adrenalin from the punch up would help.
Don rested his head briefly in his hands and muttered "god, I need a drink."
After another long, unreadable look Sam Tyler bent down, unlocked the bottom drawer of his desk, and pulled out a bottle. In the process breaking at least three regulations that Don was aware of. Maybe this DCI wasn't quite what everyone thought he was. Two glasses were poured, first sips taken in silence, after which Don was asked once again for his report. This time he answered, telling the whole grimy little tale between sips. He knew he had been out of line, but he couldn't stand just waiting while scum like that was walking around, planning more shit. At least this way action was taken.
When he had finished his story, and his whisky, he put down the glass and waited. The man opposite him stared into his still half full glass for several minutes before telling Don to go home. They would figure out the paperwork in the morning.
Don sat back, astonished. "You're not going to reprimand me?"
"No, I intend to reprimand you quite properly, in triplicate." Tyler said with a wry smile as he downed the last of his drink. "This is the information age Don, cover-ups are not really possible, everything gets found out eventually. But an incident properly reported and filed, is an incident quickly forgotten. I am putting this down as an internally administered disciplinary measure. I trust that in the future, there will be not be any incidents that require me to do more."
Don gaped at Tyler, completely stunned. In the past his, admittedly roughshod, methods had repeatedly caused his superiors to tighten the reins. Tightened and tightened, until they chafed so badly he had done something so far over the line, even he knew is was too far. The fact that those madly unthinking actions had worked, and some major players back home had gone down for it, was the only reason he was still employed, hell, still alive. The papers had made him out to be something of a hero, but Don knew that his fellow officers had been only too glad to see the back of him. What game was his new DCI playing?
"Look, you are a good officer, you had to be. No matter how badly C division wanted to get rid of you, they couldn't have promoted you to DI unless you were. Now, I don't know if the powers that be hoped we would balance each other out, or take each other down, but if I were a betting man, my money would be on the latter." Tyler relocked the bottle in the drawer of his desk, and rinsed out the glasses with water from a bottle of Aquafina, dumping the scotch tinged water in the plant on his desk.
"How about we disappoint them?"
Don stood, mentally shaking his head at the way this conversation had gone. No, this DCI wasn't living up to his reputation at all.
Grabbing a leather jacket from behind the door, Tyler waved him out of the office. As he shut the door, he turned to Don.
"If you won't take my advice and go home, I hear there are four suspects in a big drug operation that have just been hauled in on assault charges. Care to help with the questioning?"
DI Hutson smiled at his new boss, slowly drawing an answering grin to the man's face.
"Thought you'd never ask, Guv."