Time Travelling Police.

This week's Prompt, Time Travel, Policeman and a picture of London after an air raid during WW2

“Again,” said DI Jacobs, “I can't; it's taking too much out of me.”

“Look,” shouted DI Pots, “We have two days to solve this case, then the DCI is giving it to Tubbs and Crocket.”

DI Jacobs was leaning on the door. “I know, we don't want Simms to get away with it… and going back to nineteen forty-five is not….” The DI stopped him from finishing.

“Ok, I’ll go,” Pots was changing his clothes again. He had bought the suit from a charity shop on the High Street two days before. Also at the Charity Shop, he found an old knapsack from about the same era, so he bought that as well. “How do I look?” he asked Jacobs.

“From what I saw the last three times I've been, you will fit in. But remember, you are dropping into a war zone, half of London was bombed, we know it's” he looked at his watch, “Seven O'clock in the morning and from our intel, Simms will be opening up his garage on the Old Kent Road.”

After a few deep breaths, Pots held onto the doors of the gateway, “You know every time I go through this I think of the Lion, the witch and the bloody wardrobe, well here goes nothing.”

Pots walked in. Inside, a dry mist hung down like a curtain; it felt clammy on his face, and his glasses steamed up. Then everything went fuzzy, his arms flailed around like windmills pulled from their moorings, his legs felt as if he was running a marathon, then nothing — deadly silence. His mind went blank. After a few minutes, a light appeared, and he heard a whooshing in his ears — wind, wind. He could feel cold air rushing past him and knew he had a few seconds to right himself. Turning so he thought his feet were pointing the right way, then a thud — he landed on the floor. He took in his surroundings and checked himself. Pots stood up. Looking into the cracked mirror, he pulled out a cap and placed it on his head. Closed the gateway using an app on his phone, he then walked outside. 

“Wow, this is different from last time,” he said to himself, taking in the carnage, buildings blown up, cars on their sides. Everything looked so gloomy. There were Police and army personnel carrying bodies and the injured away from the buildings. He looked over the road and saw the garage; the door was open. Pots walked over, striding towards the garage like a man on a mission. On his way, he took out a cigarette and lit it.

A man shouted, “Here, give us a lift. I think he’s been hit by falling debris”

Pots went over, putting two fingers on the veins in the man's neck. “No Pulse, Sorry mate, he’s gone.” Pots stood and carried on to the garage. Walking in, he saw Simms in an office, “Simms,” he shouted, 

“Not you again”  

“Yes, me, and I need to come back to Twenty-Twenty Five”

Picking up a crowbar, Simms swung it towards Pots, but he was ready for it and stepped back and brought his left leg up, kicking him in the chest, knocking Simms to the ground. 

Placing his handcuffs on Simms, Pots read him his rights and said the gateway was not made for time-travelling con men. As the two men walked back to the gateway DI Pots had travelled through, he asked, “So, come on, where’s the gate you keep using?”

“Don’t know what you mean, officer, I live here just off the Old Kent Road, not in Twenty-twenty five, whatever that is”

Pots stopped as they reached the room where the gateway was, sat Simms down on an old sofa, and took out a portable fingerprint scanner from his knapsack. “This’ll tell us if I’m right, give us your right hand” Placing his fingers on the scanner, Pots checked the app on his phone, which came back with a positive for Gerald Simms. You were born in Nineteen Eighty-Five. Showing the screen to Simms, Pots said, “You're nicked.”  They were about to go through the gate back to 2025; a young woman screamed near the doorway.

“Help, Help,” she shouted,

“What’s the matter, Love?” Pots inquired.

“He’s been stung by a Bee, some men outside pulled down a wall, and all these bees came out, one of them got Alfie, look, he’s going into shock, do something”

Pots could see where the bee had stung Alfie, “Can you go in the back and get some water?” he asked her. While she was away, he took out his own EpiPen from the Knapsack, took off the blue safety cap and jabbed it in the lad's thigh.

“What was that? What have you done?” she cried, “What’s that?” pointing to the spent pen in his hand.

“Look, Love, just get him to a hospital quick. This is a little medicine to help him. Please get him to the hospital”

As she took little Alfie outside, hugging him, Pots activated the gateway, pushing Simms through it. On landing back in 2025, Simms said to Pots. “You shouldn’t have to do that; you know the laws about changing things in the past that will affect the future”

“I can live with that,” Pots said as he sat Simms in a cell.