I was just out patrolling during my shift. I'd been nominated to cruise around some of the country roads as we'd had complaints about some people driving at excessive speed. It wasn't the people driving ten mph or so over the limit that were the problem. No-one would complain about that because they all drove like that. No, we had some hoons that were real lead-foots and with the speeds they were doing even what should be a minor fender bender could result in something really nasty.
So there I was, cruising around and making myself unpopular. I wasn't booking all and sundry, just those who I thought were pushing the boundaries a bit. Invariably young men who wouldn't have a license at all if you needed an IQ above 90. (Except for old Mr Dickenson. He has Alzheimer's and I think he forgot where the brake was and just kept on going faster. I trailed him until he ran out of gas and then had him carted off to the hospital.)
Cruising down Burke Road I was passed by this little red job. Now Burke Road was a long straight road with only a few side roads so you could expect drivers to travel a little faster along that stretch. But, and it is a big but, there are a few side roads and a number of farm driveways, so one does need to be aware that other traffic may pop up suddenly.
Now I was sitting on the speed limit, setting a good example, when this little red job went sailing past doing at least twenty five over the limit. Now I ask you -- what sort of idiot passes a marked police car at twenty five over the limit? I decided to find out.
I increased speed and sounded my siren and then she pulled over to the side and I pulled over behind her. The driver bailed out of the car and came flouncing towards me, looking very irate.
I sort of recognised the driver. She was the wife of a businessman who'd just invested in a holiday home outside of town. Early twenties, an excellent figure, especially where her bust was concerned. She had very long, very shapely legs, and I could see most of them as she was wearing very short shorts. How short, you ask? Let me put it this way -- if they were a couple of inches longer they'd be short enough to be considered Daisy Dukes -- that's how short they were. Her top was built along the same generous lines, meaning that there was a healthy showing of skin between the bottom of the top and the top of the shorts. I'll admit that the top covered her breasts, but not by much.
"Do you know why I pulled you over?" I asked.
"Not really," she said rather huffily. "Perhaps you were bored. It's not as if I was speeding."
"Two reasons," I told her. "Basically for being an idiot and for excessive speeding."
"You can't call me an idiot," she yelled, "and I wasn't going all that fast."
"I can call you an idiot if I think you're an idiot and you were going all that fast. You're lucky, however, as I can't book you for being an idiot. Just for the speeding."
"Do you know who I am? Who my husband is?"
"Yes to both. You're Janet Hutchinson, wife of Mr Hutchinson. I booked him an hour ago for speeding. He was rather annoyed about it. Threatened to have my job. Fat chance that that will happen. No-one else wants it."
"It's Jeanine, not Janet. You can't book me. I won't have it."
"Uh-huh. License and registration, please."
"You don't understand. Let me explain."
"Tell you what. You can explain it all to me after I've run your license and registration. I mean, if you're driving a stolen car or have outstanding arrest warrants then your explanations won't matter and you can save your breath."
"That's my car and I've never been arrested," she exclaimed indignantly.
"Then it won't matter if I run them, will it?"
I held out my hand expectantly and she flounced back to the car and gathered the documents. I ran them and they came up clean as I expected.
"You're clean, but your license is due to be renewed in the next couple of weeks. Don't forget to have that attended to."
"I've already done that. Just have to wait for the new one to arrive, which may or may not happen sometime this year. Listen, you really can't ticket me. It wouldn't be fair."
"I ticketed your husband and now I'm ticketing you. What could be fairer than that?"
"Can't you just let me off with a warning? I don't normally speed."
"Lady, anyone who sails past a police car at high speed probably speeds as a matter of course."
"But I didn't know you were a police car."
I turned and looked at my car. Painted in bright colours with POLICE on the front sides and back. Siren and police lights prominently displayed on top. I turned back to regard Jeanine.
"I believe I already mentioned the idiot bit," I drawled and she blushed.
"Still, there must be something you can do. George will be furious. He'll confiscate my keys for ages. I'll be stuck at home unless he wants to take me somewhere. You're being so unfair. Can't you give me, say, a deferred ticket?"
"What is a deferred ticket?"
"You give me a ticket but it doesn't get registered if I don't speed again. If I do it counts."
"And have you found any officers who have actually agreed to that sort of thing?" I asked, intrigued.
"Maybe," she said, blushing.
"Uh-huh. So if I give you this ticket and let it be known then any deferred tickets will immediately become effective. How many deferred tickets do you have?"
"None," she said quickly. "It, um, just seemed like a good idea."
She probably had pulled that little scam and got away with it. Still, not my business.
"Well, I wouldn't worry about your husband pinching your keys. The way you were going I expect the court will pinch your license for a few months and you won't need your keys."
"No, no, no. You can't let that happen. Can't you think of something else other than a ticket? Please! I'm desperate here."
"So what do you want me to do? Call you a naughty girl and spank you?"
She went still for a moment and I could almost see the cogs in her mind turning. Then she started nodding.
"That would work," she said. "That's a good idea. I won't like it but that's your intention and it beats getting a ticket."
