Sentence The Onehundredandtwentyninth
And while Frankie and Jock chewed their crumpets and sipped their coffee, each lost in their own thoughts of the possible meaning of that most peculiar visit spotted by Lord Linkumdoddie earlier – he reflecting on the divers ways in which tellurians behave on their little blue dot in the vastness of the universe, and she reflecting on the oobleck which fills the negative space between objects and beings, at times allowing them free movement and at others – oft-times quite unexpectedly – binding them together with it's tenacity; for they were in their own ways, moral philosophers; and all the while, not so very far away, indeed quite close in relative measurements of both time and space, it
was the perspicacious WPC Isa Urquhart who jumped from one moving car at the bottom of The Mound, to another moving car and, fearless in the face of danger, clung tenaciously as the driver accelerated wildly and drove recklessly against the on-coming traffic but was powerless to prevent the daring WPC who, ignoring his contumacious language and behaviour designed to imperil her and cast her to a bloody and violent death was able to clamber into his vehicle, overpower him, seize control and bring his mad dash to an abrupt end as the car braked, skidded into the top of Market Street and came to a halt just below the historic offices of The Royal Bank of Scotland, where she was able to cuff her suspect to the Princes Street Gardens railings, summon back-up with her radio, and formally charge the utterly defeated and deflated man whose reign of terror she had ended with her legendary determination and bravado: “it's all up, Chuck,” she told him, “you'd best get ready to spend the rest of your days in Perth or Peterheid, cos you ain't never gonna find a 'Get Out Of Jail Free Card', after what you've done, and mind you don't turn your back on the other inmates, cos the screws ain't gonna be protecting you,” for her prisoner was one of the most dastardly serial killers in the history of Police Scotland's Zero Tolerance of brutality and murder – Archie Kilmardinny might look a fit and dapper Scout Leader (which he was) but behind this façade, he had preyed on vulnerable women of all ages who, when they had found themselves alone and helpless and had turned to this apparent Knight Errant riding to their aid, expecting succour and support but, too late, had realized that they were in the clutches of a sadistic and callous, bloodthirsty brute, who had savagely tortured them, raped and abused their bodies while tormenting their minds until they gave way under the horrors he had subjected them to before finally slaughtering them and casting aside their broken and bloody remains like the left-overs of a Chicken Balti cast in the gutter by a Saturday Night Drunk, for the scavengers to pick over; but the self-critical WPC did not consider her apprehension of the killer to be the result of diligent police work – painstaking collection and collating of evidence, interviews with possible witnesses, skilled analysis of forensic clues picked up by SOCOs and worked on by the dedicated technicians at..... she frowned, for the lab tech had been supposed to call her this morning with the result of the hair, soil and blood samples from the most recent murder, and hadn't; she was suddenly angry, very angry, and the volcanic WPC Isa Urquhart is like Vesuvius and no-one wants to be in the vicinity and right now, only one person was, so she turned and swung a fist at him (now Isa Urquhart's right hook can break bones, and if it had connected she would truly have blown her Police Career) but luckily, Detective Inspector Gordon Brevity – in whose car she had been travelling when she glimpsed and recognised Kilmardinny in his vehicle, had just arrived after safely parking his car and he swiftly intercepted Isa's fist and turned her attack into a congratulatory embrace, whispering: “well done, lassie, you were like John Wayne in 'Stagecoach' and for me, you had the edge,” at which she grunted, “John Who?” and Brevity laughed, then noticed her hands were shaking and asked her what was wrong, and she said she didn't know, she couldn't control them, she couldn't tell which was which, and Brevity reassured her: “it's just ambisinister – the opposite of ambidextrous – it's shock, delayed reaction, you just have to sing: 'the right hand's connected, to the left brain; the left hand's connected to the right brain; now hear the word of The Lord!”
Brave WPC Isa Urquhart shows The Sunday Post the railings to which she handcuffed her suspect after a thrilling struggle to take control of his moving vehicle!
And while Frankie and Jock chewed their crumpets and sipped their coffee, each lost in their own thoughts of the possible meaning of that most peculiar visit spotted by Lord Linkumdoddie earlier – he reflecting on the divers ways in which tellurians behave on their little blue dot in the vastness of the universe, and she reflecting on the oobleck which fills the negative space between objects and beings, at times allowing them free movement and at others – oft-times quite unexpectedly – binding them together with it's tenacity; for they were in their own ways, moral philosophers; and all the while, not so very far away, indeed quite close in relative measurements of both time and space, it
was the perspicacious WPC Isa Urquhart who jumped from one moving car at the bottom of The Mound, to another moving car and, fearless in the face of danger, clung tenaciously as the driver accelerated wildly and drove recklessly against the on-coming traffic but was powerless to prevent the daring WPC who, ignoring his contumacious language and behaviour designed to imperil her and cast her to a bloody and violent death was able to clamber into his vehicle, overpower him, seize control and bring his mad dash to an abrupt end as the car braked, skidded into the top of Market Street and came to a halt just below the historic offices of The Royal Bank of Scotland, where she was able to cuff her suspect to the Princes Street Gardens railings, summon back-up with her radio, and formally charge the utterly defeated and deflated man whose reign of terror she had ended with her legendary determination and bravado: “it's all up, Chuck,” she told him, “you'd best get ready to spend the rest of your days in Perth or Peterheid, cos you ain't never gonna find a 'Get Out Of Jail Free Card', after what you've done, and mind you don't turn your back on the other inmates, cos the screws ain't gonna be protecting you,” for her prisoner was one of the most dastardly serial killers in the history of Police Scotland's Zero Tolerance of brutality and murder – Archie Kilmardinny might look a fit and dapper Scout Leader (which he was) but behind this façade, he had preyed on vulnerable women of all ages who, when they had found themselves alone and helpless and had turned to this apparent Knight Errant riding to their aid, expecting succour and support but, too late, had realized that they were in the clutches of a sadistic and callous, bloodthirsty brute, who had savagely tortured them, raped and abused their bodies while tormenting their minds until they gave way under the horrors he had subjected them to before finally slaughtering them and casting aside their broken and bloody remains like the left-overs of a Chicken Balti cast in the gutter by a Saturday Night Drunk, for the scavengers to pick over; but the self-critical WPC did not consider her apprehension of the killer to be the result of diligent police work – painstaking collection and collating of evidence, interviews with possible witnesses, skilled analysis of forensic clues picked up by SOCOs and worked on by the dedicated technicians at..... she frowned, for the lab tech had been supposed to call her this morning with the result of the hair, soil and blood samples from the most recent murder, and hadn't; she was suddenly angry, very angry, and the volcanic WPC Isa Urquhart is like Vesuvius and no-one wants to be in the vicinity and right now, only one person was, so she turned and swung a fist at him (now Isa Urquhart's right hook can break bones, and if it had connected she would truly have blown her Police Career) but luckily, Detective Inspector Gordon Brevity – in whose car she had been travelling when she glimpsed and recognised Kilmardinny in his vehicle, had just arrived after safely parking his car and he swiftly intercepted Isa's fist and turned her attack into a congratulatory embrace, whispering: “well done, lassie, you were like John Wayne in 'Stagecoach' and for me, you had the edge,” at which she grunted, “John Who?” and Brevity laughed, then noticed her hands were shaking and asked her what was wrong, and she said she didn't know, she couldn't control them, she couldn't tell which was which, and Brevity reassured her: “it's just ambisinister – the opposite of ambidextrous – it's shock, delayed reaction, you just have to sing: 'the right hand's connected, to the left brain; the left hand's connected to the right brain; now hear the word of The Lord!”
Brave WPC Isa Urquhart shows The Sunday Post the railings to which she handcuffed her suspect after a thrilling struggle to take control of his moving vehicle!
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