Answer:

Look mate! Nicknames go with the territory as a detective in the Met Police. I’m no exception. Yeah, yeah, I get tired of being asked how I got to be Ratso. Some of the lads guess that I was into the little darlings like a rat up a drainpipe. Well, maybe there was some truth in that. I mean what red-blooded guy’s going to turn up the chance? But that wasn’t how the nickname started. Neither do I look like a bleedin’ rodent as some cheeky sods might say! The truth involved a derelict building, a sick bastard with a sawn-off and my love of cricket. Work that one out for yourself!

Answer:

Me? Wear Armani? Gucci? Give me a break! I’m suspicious of colleagues in snappy suits and designer shoes. You’d feel a right berk chasing a drug-dealer and worrying about splashing your loafers! Me? I wear lifestyle gear – leather jackets, windcheaters or black denim.

Answer:

Yeah! I knew you’d ask my age! Well I’ll admit to late thirties and see – no receding hair-line.

Answer:

Cheeky! I don’t use Just-for-Men. Not needed. ! It’s brown, real and all home-grown! Yeah and I always went for the Caesar-style ever since school in South London. And you’re right – I do like to keep in shape. – cricket, gym and jogging.

Answer:

What? A face like it’s been chiselled by a drunken stonemason? Who told you that? They’d better watch out! Craggy? Okay, I’ll give you that. Manly … that’s what I’d call it. Done me okay with the little ravers in the clubs or when facing down an evil sod with a machete. Give me craggy over pink-and-well-scrubbed any day! Free-wheeling? Yeah, I’d grant you that. Free-spirit too. Don’t get me wrong. I’m no loner but I like being alone, time to think, y’know? As a Detective Inspector that’s a plus, I can tell you.

Answer:

Serious? Well if you mean about nicking villains, I’ll drink a Guinness to that. Or maybe a glass or two of Rioja. There was this little number I met in Ibiza. Well, she reckoned  I gave away smiles like they was fifty quid notes! Doesn’t mean I don’t like a laugh, a joke, a party and a right old piss-up after some villains get sent down at the Bailey.

Answer:

No, they were right about that. I don’t rant, shout and swear like some Celebrity Chef. Don’t get me wrong – the team know who’s the boss. I have my own way of dishing out aright good bollocking.

Answer:

Nah, I’ve never been married. I always tell ’em – be warned – I’m married to the job … oh plus there’s my sport and supporting Fulham down at Craven Cottage. My relationships never last – too many cancelled dates. Especially when I worked undercover. That’s the best and worst of loving the job. Nearly done are we? Okay. One more then. I’ve a meeting with the AC up at the Yard.

Answer:

Yeah! I like a joke – well except for Chief Inspector Arthur bloody Tennant. Piss-poor joke he is. Waste of space. Here’s a joke for you. A Desk Sergeant asks this cokehead: “How high are you?” The cokehead replies “No, man! It’s… Hi! How are you?”