Pat Ritter. Books

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'Confessions of an alcoholic' - Page 156:

Bundy used all his self-discipline to learn a new way of becoming PERSONALLY RESPONSIBLE. Up until this time he never realised the importance of being personally responsible for anything. It was a change he made which was so tough to make because he had to become personally responsible and tell the truth. He had to make a commitment he would always tell people what was on his mind instead of hiding his feelings.
His self-esteem skyrocketed together with his self-belief. For the very first time in his life he knew he was getting better and feeling more confident about what he was doing. His relationship between Ada and him strengthened to the degree of a deeper trust and love for one another leading onto honesty and ultimately intimacy. Bundy had never in his life before experienced such a feeling of intimacy with anyone. To experience a feeling of intimacy with anyone, is to lock one another’s minds together into the one motion, releasing the flow of love, trust, honesty, and true feelings for one another is the ultimate experience for any human being.
Finally, he was rewarded with his desire to work as an alcohol and drug counsellor in his own community and rewarded many times he failed to count the rewards, only seeing his clients walk by themselves along the highway of their choice. To witness the changes made by his clients to improve their lifestyles for a better life than they had as an alcoholic, was reward enough.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Pat Ritter is an alcoholic who wanted to share his life experiences with his readers. Having walked a mile in an alcoholic’s shoes to finally come out the other end and live a useful life is reward enough from his personal experiences.

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'The Proposition' - Page 1:

Chapter 1

Bundy Quicksilver is an alcoholic. His final drink on 13th January 1977, reminded him never to allow alcohol to pass his lips again. If it did – one drink was too many and a thousand not enough. His wife Ada threatened to leave with their two children if he didn’t do something about his drinking. His promise, he would never drink again, he kept.
After this declaration he never again allowed alcohol to pass his lips. After another twenty years, he understood why he was an alcoholic. Ada helped him rediscover a new life. With her help he changed from being a dry drunk to live an enriched life.
Sadly, after thirty-one years of marriage he lost the love of his life to cancer and retired on a farm in the beautiful Mary Valley north of Brisbane. Until one day a visit to his local post office changed his life forever.

‘You have a parcel you’re to sign for.’ She pushed a sheet of paper toward him, ‘sign here,’ pointed to a spot beneath his name. Bundy signed and was handed the parcel.
On the rear were the words - Commissioner of Police. His eyebrows lifted not knowing what to expect - twenty years since he retired from Queensland Police Service. Tearing the paper, he discovered a blue coloured metal case with the words POLICE SERVICE MEDAL clearly embroidered on the front.
‘After twenty years, the Commissioner decided to send me a medal.’ Stunned and excited, he shared his latest discovery with the Post Mistress. ‘I suppose, being the Post Mistress, you could do the honour on behalf of the Commissioner to present me with this medal. Would you do me this honour?’ Bundy asked in a soft and sincere voice.

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‘I’d love to,’ she replied - poked her chest out, a broad smile spread across her moon shaped face. Bundy handed her the case. She opened the lid, a large medal with the words DILIGENT AND ETHICAL SERVICE fastened with coloured stripped two-tone blue ribbon and a bar with the figure ‘20’ pinned across the centre of the ribbon, held her attention. ‘Do I take them out and pin them on you?’ She asked in a concerned voice. A look of seriousness covered her face.
‘I suppose you should. What’s the other medal?’ Bundy asked when he saw two in the case.
‘A smaller version of the larger one, I suppose you wear them to show you served twenty years in the police service. I’m privileged to do this, a proud and honoured moment.’ She said as she unclipped both medals from inside of the case quickly fastening them to Bundy’s shirt, ‘do I salute or stand at attention?’ She asked nervously.
‘No, I don’t think so – I’m overwhelmed to get them. I never believed I’d ever hear from the police again. I’m grateful to be remembered.’ A tear welled in his eyes; memories flooded back of twenty years he served his community as a law enforcement officer.

After he returned home, he wrote a personal letter to the Commissioner to express his appreciation and gratitude on receiving the medals. Words flooded his mind. Actual right words were difficult to find. He wrote from his heart.

‘Is that you Bundy?’ The voice didn’t sound familiar when Bundy answered the telephone.
‘Bundy Quicksilver here, who’s speaking,’ he answered the caller, only thinking might be another pest call from a call centre.

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Thank you dub:

'The Proposition' - Page 3:

‘You can’t tell after twenty years - the Commissioner.’
‘Oh, for goodness sake – how are you Commissioner?’ The Commissioner telephoned personally direct to his home, ‘thank you for sending me those medals – I thought I’d been forgotten.’ He muttered.
‘No – we never forget. How’ve you been since you left the service?’ The Commissioner asked in an official tone.
‘Great - thank you. I was so overwhelmed when I received the medals, I wanted to write to show my appreciation in receiving them.’
‘You are the only one who replied.’
‘I’m sorry no one else wrote.’
‘As I remember – you always wore your heart on your sleeve. Was it difficult when you left the job?’
‘For the first couple of years; each time I heard a crime committed on the radio or saw the report on television, I wanted to be back in the service chasing the bad guys but unfortunately with a pacemaker I understood I couldn’t in case I was injured.’
‘Bundy, the reason I telephoned is - I’d like you to come and have a chat sometime soon - here in my office. I have a proposition you might like.’
‘I’d be honoured Sir.’
‘Enough of Sir, you’ve known me long enough to call me Commissioner.’
‘What is your proposition?’ Bundy muttered not quite certain how to answer.
‘Something prompted me to consider after I received your letter. I think you will like what I’m proposing. Get back to me; I’ll give you my direct number. Ring me anytime.’
‘Yeah – okay,’ Bundy recorded the telephone number. ‘Thank you, Commissioner, I’ll get back to you.’

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'The Proposition' - Page 4:

They said their farewells. Bundy’s mind exploded in anticipation after considering the conversation. Why did the Commissioner want to speak to him at his office?

Nothing had changed since Bundy retired under medical conditions. Having a pacemaker implanted caused him to retire because of the high risk in being injured. Facing the front entrance of Queensland Police Headquarters in Roma Street, Brisbane bought back memories of being told, ‘you’re to go home and stay there and we’ll be in touch.’ Twelve months later he was medically discharged.
Before he entered the main foyer of the building, his mind flashed to an incident - it was his second night on patrol in the criminal investigation branch; as a trainee detective, he saw a male person lying in the gutter. This person was drunk.
Police headquarters wasn’t on the corner; the Railway Hotel was there then. He remembered leaning down to take hold of the drunken person. His revolver, a 38 Smith & Wesson fell from its shoulder holster from inside of his coat and landed on the ground beside this drunk. He quickly retrieved the revolver and replaced it into the shoulder holster. This was a close call.
His mind returned to the present, confused why the Commissioner wanted to speak with him. He only sent a letter of appreciation to thank him for the medals.
‘Can I help you sir?’ A uniformed officer asked when Bundy finally arrived at the reception desk.
Bundy blinked out of the past, ‘sorry, my mind was in another place, I’m Bundy Quicksilver. I have an appointment with the Commissioner.’
The officer pushed a button and spoke into the telephone. After speaking he said, ‘Mr Quicksilver, the Commissioner is waiting. Turn right through the doors; take the lift to the thirteenth floor. A member of his staff will meet you.’

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'The Proposition' - Page 5:

‘Thank you.’ Bundy replied and walked to the lifts. He felt excited as he entered the lifts. His last visit to Police Headquarters was a long time ago; he’d never been to the Commissioner’s Office. At the time, the building was new; an atrium formed in the centre; the building was the latest design for its day. He always imagined after seeing the atrium for the first time someone, someday would jump from one of the thirteen floors and land on the bottom floor. To his knowledge no one had done so.
His mind raced in anticipation of the proposition. Pressed number 13 on the lift, the doors opened to the floor and he stepped out. An officer greeted him, ‘Mr Quicksilver, please follow me.’ He followed.
‘How are you my friend,’ the Commissioner greeted him warmly.
‘Wonderful – thank you Commissioner, I’m a little concerned why you wanted me to visit you at your office.’
‘You don’t look a day older since I last saw you. You must be keeping fit and healthy.’ The Commissioner commented.
‘Thank you – life has treated me well.’ He didn’t want to say too much before he knew why he was there.
‘Bundy, I won’t beat around the bush. Sit down and we’ll talk.’ He’d known the Commissioner for over forty years and trusted what he was about to tell him. When the Commissioner was a constable stationed near where Bundy lived at the time, he was the officer who signed his induction papers to join the force, as it was known then.
Each time Bundy received a transfer or promotion it was the Commissioner who was the first person on the telephone to congratulate him. Reeling back to the present Bundy said, ‘you have a proposition for me?’

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'The Proposition' - Page 6:

‘Yes, with today’s technology and expertise I’m afraid to say your breed of detective is almost extinct. I want to resurrect it. I don’t know how yet, but with your help I’m certain we can do it. I’d like you to come and work in the service again. What do you think?’
‘I thank you Commissioner for thinking of me but it’s been over twenty years since I worked as a detective.’
‘It wouldn’t matter if it was a hundred years. You’d still have the hunger and I know about your instinct. Those things never die.’
‘Yes, that’s true. The ping still goes off in the back of my head when something is not working the way it should. As for the hunger, I don’t suppose it would take much to revive it. I loved working as a detective. I accept your offer.’
‘In that case, I want you to meet Detective Superintendent Kathleen Emerson. She’ll be the person you’ll work with. Come out Kate,’ the Commissioner called in a loud voice to be heard in the next office. A side door opened – a female, smartly dressed in a brown tailored suit, aged in her late thirties, walked erect into the office. ‘Bundy, this is Kathleen Emerson. You will be working together.’
He stood and shook her hand and looked directly into her eyes. Something wasn’t right. People’s eyes always told a story. ‘I’m pleased to meet you,’ she sat on a chair opposite him. Her smell of perfume reminded him of a similar one his wife Ada once wore. She didn’t acknowledge Bundy’s presence and sat in silence.
‘Bundy, you’ll work with Detective Superintendent Emerson and she’ll bring you up-to-date with her latest investigation.’ Each shook hands with the Commissioner and left.
They boarded the lift to the third floor. Silence between them. Bundy followed Detective Superintendent Emerson into an office. Small compared to the Commissioner’s. Two desks, one in a corner, two steel filing cabinets and a computer monitor on each desk. No windows.