A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
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JACKSON, PAUL (1967 - ) Community policeman. I've never, regrettably, enjoyed the happiest of relationships with the local police. The neutral observer might think they'd be eager to utilise the asset on their doorstep, but since childhood, my offers of assistance have been rebuffed. While my powers have made me a household name in parts of North America, Europe and Australasia, I can stroll through Drumfeld without attracting a second glance.
Professional detectives feel threatened by the encroachment of gifted amateurs. No particular talents are really necessary for the roles fulfilled by our policemen and women. Their purpose is largely janitorial and requires nothing more than basic levels of integrity, diligence and physical fitness. The most effective police officers are those who accept their limitations and, whenever necessary, defer to powers superior to their own.
Paul Jackson, Drumfeld's community police officer, I will concede, has fully accepted his limitations. Unfortunately, the only duties he has concluded himself competent to fulfil involve etching numbers onto property as a precaution against future theft (an inevitability if Jackson is the only deterrent) and organising football matches between teams of indigents and drug abusers. Quite simply, the man is a disgrace to the uniform he wears in the slovenly manner of a pop star experimenting with a new 'look'.
On the various occasions I've required Jackson's assistance, he's dithered and prevaricated, more than once locking himself in the toilet. Passing a drunken fracas outside the Red Lion last December, I noticed his frightened, fat face peering at proceedings through a hedge. When I urged him to intervene, he muttered something about correct procedure and threatened to have me charged with 'obstruction' if I gave away his location.
Jackson failed to redeem himself when my life was threatened by fellow psychic, KEVIN OF SUMMERSTON. Apparently irritated by comments I made during a radio interview, Kevin arrived in Drumfeld accompanied by leering cohorts and, from the vantage point of the war memorial, bellowed his intention of engaging me in a 'square-go'. As a master of the various techniques of GUNG-COE, my over-riding concern in such a scenario was less for my own physical safety than Kevin's. I suspected, however, that having made his grand gesture, he would lose interest. Unfortunately, I was mistaken.
Over the following weeks, Kevin and his accomplices became frequent visitors to Drumfeld, swaggering around the town, blatantly violating the by-laws against public consumption of alcohol and threatening anyone who attempted to chasten them. When I telephoned Jackson to register a complaint, he muttered something about a family bereavement and suggested that I "just fight him and get it done with." This, incidentally, was also Spencer's solution, one reiterated by goading chants of "Hamilton's a shite-bag" with which he and his friends kept me awake when returning from one of their binges. Kevin eventually desisted when the Virgin Mary appeared to him in a dream and cautioned him against his behaviour. A timely intervention: my patience was wearing thin.
JEALOUSY – A cancerous emotion. While anger might be vented, jealousy has no outlet. Once it insinuates itself, it festers, often turning to obsession and insanity.
JEFFERS, MARK (1962 - ) Artist. Christine and, to a lesser extent, Spencer, are both fixated on delusional images of their younger selves. Christine has gradually filled her home with artefacts from our shared childhood. I'm not sure why this should have become a halcyon period. As I recall she spent an inordinate amount of time weeping in her bedroom. Despite the inconveniences of single parenthood and divorce, she's incontestably happier now than she ever was then. She persists, however, in accumulating the detritus of the past. Most recently she commissioned local artist, Mark Jeffers, to paint an oil rendition of a photograph of the three of us at her eleventh birthday. Putting aside the anomaly of commissioning what she obviously considers the preservation of innocence to a noted degenerate, she's forgotten the fact that, shortly after the original photograph was taken, Spencer ruined the party by jabbing Kirsten McCall in the eye with a sharpened stick.
JEFFERSON, ARTHUR STANLEY (a.k.a. STAN LAUREL) Comedian -
JOKES - Within minutes of meeting me, people, often enduring torrid personal circumstances, find themselves succumbing to a rib-tickler. This surprises people who expect me to be po-faced, but I know more jokes than anyone else I know. It was Grandpa Sneddon who first encouraged me to write them down to use as icebreakers. Consequently, I have one for every conceivable situation, written down in thirty leather bound journals. Nina refers scathingly to my books of Jokes and Humorous Incidents, a phrase taken directly from Spencer who alleges it originated from our Grandfather. Not so! The only person who has ever referred to my journals as books of Jokes and Humorous Incidents is Spencer, so if anyone is to be mocked on that account it should be him.
My brother, unfortunately, has absolutely no sense of humour. Obviously, like most people, he thinks he has, but for him a humorous situation is based entirely upon someone else's embarrassment or misfortune. He's no idea how to tell a joke. I doubt if he even knows any. I know at least seven hundred. In her book, Nina refers to my “parp of laughter, echoing crudely around houses devastated by heartache, as harsh and inappropriate as the bray of a wounded seal.” This comes from Spencer who has always complained about my ‘stupid laughter'. He doesn't know how to laugh: he sniggers! When Spencer is amused nobody in the vicinity can escape the impression that he's laughing at them.
JOLLY ROGERS, THE - American High School society, ostensibly dedicated to good deeds and high jinks, joined by DANIEL NELSON three weeks before his disappearance.
JURASSIC BURGERS – Theme restaurant in Perth, now defunct. Years ago, Billy Ure and I would celebrate the successful conclusion of a case by going to Jurassic Burgers, a now defunct restaurant with a prehistoric theme where we would open and conclude proceedings with a cry of “Friendship! Integrity! Valour!” After the Karen Gardner case, recounted in detail by NINA KELLY, I altered the last of these to “Justice” in order to spare Billy, who hadn't covered himself in glory in the course of that particular investigation, the embarrassment of extolling a virtue he clearly didn't possess. Since being stricken by several breakdowns, Billy's role largely diminished and I, until the conclusion of my investigative career, reverted to the original slogan, though, I have to say that neither Christine nor Muriel declaimed it with much gusto.
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z