Fic: The Art of Being Lost and Found (21/?), blue cortina, dakfinv
Title: The Art of Being Lost and Found (21/?)
Author: dak
Word Count: 1028 (this part); (29,162 in total, so far)
Rating: blue cortina
Warnings: none here
Summary: Post 2.08. When the Guv goes missing, CID is saddled with an inept "interim" DCI. To find Gene, and the truth, Ray must team up with a hated enemy.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15
Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20
“I spoke to a few of the nurses. They said James was a true gentleman. Never caused any trouble. On Sunday he...”
“Was being released on a trial basis,” Ray finished Annie’s sentence for her.
“Did Sam tell you?” she stopped in her tracks.
“No,” sighed Ray, lifting himself off the lobby bench. “Spoke with his doc.”
“Oh,” Annie nodded, her eyes scanning the empty lobby. “Where’s Chris?”
“Toilet,” he replied, chomping on his piece of gum.
“What’s wrong?”
“Hm?” Ray looked up, unaware of how silent he’d been.
“You seem quiet is all.”
Before Ray could respond, Chris came loping down the corridor, the same quiet expression plastering his face.
“Ready?” Ray asked, and Chris replied silently with a nod. “Let’s go then.”
“Did you tell her?” Chris asked as they exited through the main doors.
“Tell me what?” Annie asked, looking from Chris to Ray.
“We’ll fill you in on the drive,” Ray promised, hurrying to the car before the cold wind chilled him too deeply.
*
“We have to find that letter,” Annie decided, slamming down her empty glass with fierce determination.
“I know,” Ray agreed. “But how?”
“By looking for it, of course,” she rolled her eyes. “There can only be a few places the Guv would feel were secure for hiding something that important. His office. His car. His home.”
“Jackie Queen’s home,” Chris burped over his pint. Ray glared at him harshly, willing the lad’s mouth to snap shut.
“Why would he give it to a reporter?” Annie asked.
“We can check the house and car easy,” Ray spoke up, purposely ignoring Annie’s question. “Sniffing round his office will be the hard part, what with Carter and all. Bastard’s in there all the time, ‘less he’s with Rathbone. Ponce.”
“We could use Cartwright. As a distraction, like,” Chris burped again.
“What sort of distraction?” she narrowed her eyes.
“C’mon, Annie,” Chris shrugged. “We all know he fancies you.”
“If you’re suggesting that I--”
“What our genius is suggesting is that you draw him out for a bit of friendly conversation. Maybe some tea in canteen or, better yet, one o’ them caffs you and your fancy uni mates always go to.”
“Exactly what I meant,” Chris nodded, blushing slightly.
“Not long, just enough so that the boy wonder and I can have a look round.”
“Fine,” Annie agreed. “But if he tries anything on, it’ll be your knackers on the chopping block. Alright?”
“Fair enough,” Ray agreed and Chris nodded, as both men crossed their legs. Ray downed the last bit of his pint and shoved the empty glass towards Chris. “Go on then. ‘S your round.”
Chris reached into his pocket, counted his change, and sighed heavily, before leaving the table and lumbering up to the bar. Ray watched Annie as she ran her finger around the rim of her glass. It was obvious what she was thinking and Ray wondered what would upset her more: if he brought it up or if he didn’t.
“Alright?” he finally asked. Annie acknowledged the question by withdrawing her hand and shifting in her chair.
“I knew he’d be upset,” she sighed, “but I never thought he’d be so angry. He should know we’re only trying to help,” she added, crossing her arms.
“He’s locked up in a place worse than his old flat, hard to imagine, with a bunch of other nutters, being force fed horse pills and having what’s left of his brain zapped out of his skull, and you think he’d appreciate that?” Ray questioned her. Chris returned with the three drinks balanced precariously in his hands. Annie grabbed hers as soon as it was safely on the table.
“He should at least be making some improvement. This wasn’t meant to last forever,” she drank heavily from her gin and tonic.
“Oh,” Chris sighed. “We’re talking about that.”
“You’re the one with the fancy psychiatry degree,” Ray started.
“Psychology,” she haughtily corrected.
“Whatever. Point is, are you really curing a bloke if you’re just cutting out the bad parts, rather than trying to fix ‘em?”
“Cutting out?” Chris choked on his beer. “Wait. They’re not doing one o’ them lo...lob...whatsits.”
“Lobotomies,” Annie sighed.
“Yeah. They’re not giving the Boss one o’ them, are they?” He fidgeted nervously.
“Course not,” Ray scoffed. “Least, it weren’t mentioned.”
“And they won’t. Not without informing us. Those are only used in extreme cases,” Annie told them.
“Well, Tyler ain’t normal even for a nutter. And you said it yourself, Cartwright. He’s not making an improvement,” Ray sipped his pint.
“If we can’t find the letter,” Chris thought aloud, “we’ll need the Boss to remember more ‘bout what it said.”
“The way they’re shocking his brain, we better find the letter,” Ray raised his eyebrows.
“And we also need to remember that a man is dead. A man whose case we’re actually working,” Annie pointed out. “Carter will become suspicious if we don’t make any progress on that.”
“We could share what we know with RCS,” Chris offered. Ray could tell by the look on his face that Chris already knew it was a bad suggestion.
“We can take care of the Guv and Bresson. What is it Tyler used to say?”
“Multitasking,” Chris whispered, for once certain of the word.
“Right. Can’t do nowt for the Guv till we find that letter. That we can search for anytime,” Ray laid it all out. “Starting tonight,” he added. “We can investigate Bresson’s murder during work, and Carter will be none the wiser.”
“So, where’re we going to search tonight?” Chris asked.
“We’ll go to his house. Vera will let us look wherever we want.”
“Do you think she knew about the letter? About the girl?” Chris wondered.
“Don’t think so,” Ray shook his head. “He wouldn’t want to worry her.”
“There is a chance she could have found out on her own and not told him she knew,” Annie pointed out.
“Slim chance,” Ray rolled his eyes. “Even so, let’s not tell her owt ‘less we’re certain she knows summat. Okay?”
Chris nodded. Annie remained silent.
“Right then. Finish your drinks. We’ve got work to do.”
Author: dak
Word Count: 1028 (this part); (29,162 in total, so far)
Rating: blue cortina
Warnings: none here
Summary: Post 2.08. When the Guv goes missing, CID is saddled with an inept "interim" DCI. To find Gene, and the truth, Ray must team up with a hated enemy.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15
Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20
“I spoke to a few of the nurses. They said James was a true gentleman. Never caused any trouble. On Sunday he...”
“Was being released on a trial basis,” Ray finished Annie’s sentence for her.
“Did Sam tell you?” she stopped in her tracks.
“No,” sighed Ray, lifting himself off the lobby bench. “Spoke with his doc.”
“Oh,” Annie nodded, her eyes scanning the empty lobby. “Where’s Chris?”
“Toilet,” he replied, chomping on his piece of gum.
“What’s wrong?”
“Hm?” Ray looked up, unaware of how silent he’d been.
“You seem quiet is all.”
Before Ray could respond, Chris came loping down the corridor, the same quiet expression plastering his face.
“Ready?” Ray asked, and Chris replied silently with a nod. “Let’s go then.”
“Did you tell her?” Chris asked as they exited through the main doors.
“Tell me what?” Annie asked, looking from Chris to Ray.
“We’ll fill you in on the drive,” Ray promised, hurrying to the car before the cold wind chilled him too deeply.
*
“We have to find that letter,” Annie decided, slamming down her empty glass with fierce determination.
“I know,” Ray agreed. “But how?”
“By looking for it, of course,” she rolled her eyes. “There can only be a few places the Guv would feel were secure for hiding something that important. His office. His car. His home.”
“Jackie Queen’s home,” Chris burped over his pint. Ray glared at him harshly, willing the lad’s mouth to snap shut.
“Why would he give it to a reporter?” Annie asked.
“We can check the house and car easy,” Ray spoke up, purposely ignoring Annie’s question. “Sniffing round his office will be the hard part, what with Carter and all. Bastard’s in there all the time, ‘less he’s with Rathbone. Ponce.”
“We could use Cartwright. As a distraction, like,” Chris burped again.
“What sort of distraction?” she narrowed her eyes.
“C’mon, Annie,” Chris shrugged. “We all know he fancies you.”
“If you’re suggesting that I--”
“What our genius is suggesting is that you draw him out for a bit of friendly conversation. Maybe some tea in canteen or, better yet, one o’ them caffs you and your fancy uni mates always go to.”
“Exactly what I meant,” Chris nodded, blushing slightly.
“Not long, just enough so that the boy wonder and I can have a look round.”
“Fine,” Annie agreed. “But if he tries anything on, it’ll be your knackers on the chopping block. Alright?”
“Fair enough,” Ray agreed and Chris nodded, as both men crossed their legs. Ray downed the last bit of his pint and shoved the empty glass towards Chris. “Go on then. ‘S your round.”
Chris reached into his pocket, counted his change, and sighed heavily, before leaving the table and lumbering up to the bar. Ray watched Annie as she ran her finger around the rim of her glass. It was obvious what she was thinking and Ray wondered what would upset her more: if he brought it up or if he didn’t.
“Alright?” he finally asked. Annie acknowledged the question by withdrawing her hand and shifting in her chair.
“I knew he’d be upset,” she sighed, “but I never thought he’d be so angry. He should know we’re only trying to help,” she added, crossing her arms.
“He’s locked up in a place worse than his old flat, hard to imagine, with a bunch of other nutters, being force fed horse pills and having what’s left of his brain zapped out of his skull, and you think he’d appreciate that?” Ray questioned her. Chris returned with the three drinks balanced precariously in his hands. Annie grabbed hers as soon as it was safely on the table.
“He should at least be making some improvement. This wasn’t meant to last forever,” she drank heavily from her gin and tonic.
“Oh,” Chris sighed. “We’re talking about that.”
“You’re the one with the fancy psychiatry degree,” Ray started.
“Psychology,” she haughtily corrected.
“Whatever. Point is, are you really curing a bloke if you’re just cutting out the bad parts, rather than trying to fix ‘em?”
“Cutting out?” Chris choked on his beer. “Wait. They’re not doing one o’ them lo...lob...whatsits.”
“Lobotomies,” Annie sighed.
“Yeah. They’re not giving the Boss one o’ them, are they?” He fidgeted nervously.
“Course not,” Ray scoffed. “Least, it weren’t mentioned.”
“And they won’t. Not without informing us. Those are only used in extreme cases,” Annie told them.
“Well, Tyler ain’t normal even for a nutter. And you said it yourself, Cartwright. He’s not making an improvement,” Ray sipped his pint.
“If we can’t find the letter,” Chris thought aloud, “we’ll need the Boss to remember more ‘bout what it said.”
“The way they’re shocking his brain, we better find the letter,” Ray raised his eyebrows.
“And we also need to remember that a man is dead. A man whose case we’re actually working,” Annie pointed out. “Carter will become suspicious if we don’t make any progress on that.”
“We could share what we know with RCS,” Chris offered. Ray could tell by the look on his face that Chris already knew it was a bad suggestion.
“We can take care of the Guv and Bresson. What is it Tyler used to say?”
“Multitasking,” Chris whispered, for once certain of the word.
“Right. Can’t do nowt for the Guv till we find that letter. That we can search for anytime,” Ray laid it all out. “Starting tonight,” he added. “We can investigate Bresson’s murder during work, and Carter will be none the wiser.”
“So, where’re we going to search tonight?” Chris asked.
“We’ll go to his house. Vera will let us look wherever we want.”
“Do you think she knew about the letter? About the girl?” Chris wondered.
“Don’t think so,” Ray shook his head. “He wouldn’t want to worry her.”
“There is a chance she could have found out on her own and not told him she knew,” Annie pointed out.
“Slim chance,” Ray rolled his eyes. “Even so, let’s not tell her owt ‘less we’re certain she knows summat. Okay?”
Chris nodded. Annie remained silent.
“Right then. Finish your drinks. We’ve got work to do.”