Fic: The Philanderer and the Thief (11/11), blue cortina, dakfinv
Title: The Philanderer and the Thief (11/11) - Complete!
Author: dak
Word Count: 990 this part; approx 20,000 overall
Rating: blue cortina
Genre: buddy cop, humor, mystery
Warnings: language, mild violence
Summary: Fed up with their constant bickering, Gene sends Sam and Ray out to a remote village to stop a local crime spree. Will they solve the case before they kill each other, or will someone else get there first?
A/N: And here's the end. Thanks to everyone who's been reading and commenting. I really appreciate it!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10
Sam pressed the bag of ice to his aching head. There were plenty of other bumps and bruises he could have applied the ice to, but his head had seemed to take the worst of Parker’s blows.
“I suppose I owe you boys an apology,” Sergeant Davies drawled.
“You think?” Ray scowled, a matching bag of ice pressed to his knee.
“Be nice,” Sam muttered, though he was thinking the same.
“But, well, when it comes down ‘tween the word of someone you know and the word of a stranger, well round here, we always trust the locals,” Davies sighed.
“Yes. I’m sure it’s quite a shock, discovering Mr. Parker and his family were responsible,” Sam said as he sipped his pint with the hand not pressing ice to his bruises.
“Not really,” Davies shrugged, but said no more.
“Sergeant, I hope PC Dunlap will be duly recognized for his contributions to this investigation.”
“Oh, course he will.”
“Was only doing me job,” Dunlap shrugged.
“Yes, but your level of deductive reasoning was superb. You should be very proud of yourself, Oliver,” Sam smiled.
“Well, only knew what you told me. That house you described could only be the Kenley’s. And when I didn’t find owt there, just headed towards Parker’s farm, where I found you.”
“Smart thinking, Oliver,” Ray pat him on the back, then raised his pint. “To Oliver.”
“To Oliver,” Sam joined in.
“Aye, to young Oliver,” Davies smiled raising his glass. “Well, suppose you lads want to be off, then. Manchester’s probably missing a fine, pair of detectives like yourselves.”
“I’m sure they’re surviving just fine,” Sam smiled.
“Speak for yourself,” Ray mumbled.
“But, I guess we should be going.”
“Sure we can’t tempt you to stay another day?” Davies asked. “I know poor Betty would hate to see you go. Old lass has taken a strong liking to you. Even waived your entire bill. Yes, quite a liking.”
“Now that’s a good woman,” Ray toasted her, then downed the rest of his pint.
“Tell her thank you, but we really can’t stay. Our Guv will be wanting his car back.”
Sam finished his drink and the men exchanged their goodbyes. He told Oliver to call if he was ever in town, thanked Sergeant Davies for the pint and the meal, and left the warm pub, Ray following behind.
“Would you really want to stay another night?” Ray asked as Sam tossed him the keys.
“God no. Now let’s get the hell out of here before anything else happens.”
*
The day was moving slowly. A comfortable haze of smoke had settled upon the room as the wall clock slowly ticked away the long minutes. Clive was asleep. Geoff was pretending not to sleep. Chris was reading a comic book as a near-finished cigarette dangled from his lip. Cartwright appeared to be working, tapping out something on the type writer.
Gene leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs onto the desk as he lit a fag. It had been four days since he had sent Tyler and Carling out into the wilds of Northern England. He hadn’t heard from them in two, when Tyler had foolishly told him he’d lost the car. He decided they must still be looking for the Cortina. God help the poor sods if they didn’t find her.
Gene took a long drag and cracked open the fresh copy of Just Jugs, which had arrived for Ray in his absence, when he heard the doors of CID swing open. He heard two sets of footsteps marching towards him and needn’t take his eyes off the buxom blonde centerfold to know who had arrived.
The doors of his inner office pushed in and a set of keys were tossed into his lap.
“Oh, so you’ve decided to return, have you?” Gene sighed, as he picked up his keys. He finally looked up to see Tyler and Carling standing there side by side. They were utterly filthy, stinking in the same clothes they’d left in four days prior, and covered head to toe in bruises.
Gene barely raised an eyebrow.
“Have a nice trip?” He asked.
“Lovely,” Sam replied.
“Gorgeous weather,” Ray added.
“And I take it my car is parked perfectly outside without so much as a speck of dust on the floor?”
“Of course, Guv,” Sam nodded.
“Aye,” Ray agreed.
Gene crossed his arms.
“Alright then. Going to tell me what happened?”
“Nothing to tell, really. Is there, Ray?” Sam said.
“Nope,” Ray agreed. “Nothing at all.”
“Can barely remember, myself.”
“Like we were never there, ain’t it, Boss?”
“Couldn’t agree more, Sergeant.”
Gene eyed them suspiciously.
“You two going to cooperate from now on?” He warned.
Sam and Ray looked at each other, then back at Gene.
“Not sure, Guv,” Sam said.
“Wouldn’t bet on it,” Ray added.
Gene glared at them, then reopened the magazine.
“Then shift it. Smell worse than a cadaver in a glue factory. Go home, get cleaned up, and be here nine a.m. sharp, tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, Guv.”
“Aye, Guv.”
Sam and Ray spun round and marched back out of his office and out of CID. Gene watched them leave, peering over the top of the centerfold’s tits. They were up to something. He was sure of it. Being the Guv, he knew it wouldn’t take him long to figure it out.
*
“Should we tell him what we left in the boot?” Ray asked as they descended the station steps.
“Think he’ll discover his present soon enough, don’t you?” Sam asked.
“Suppose so,” Ray agreed. “Want a lift home?”
“Sure. My legs are killing me.”
“Cos you were beaten by an old man,” Ray snickered.
“That was a solid oak cane, I’ll have you know.”
“Whatever you say, Boss.”
Sam and Ray crossed the front car park, passing the perfectly parked Cortina, neither seeming concerned with the confused “baa’s” echoing from the boot.
Author: dak
Word Count: 990 this part; approx 20,000 overall
Rating: blue cortina
Genre: buddy cop, humor, mystery
Warnings: language, mild violence
Summary: Fed up with their constant bickering, Gene sends Sam and Ray out to a remote village to stop a local crime spree. Will they solve the case before they kill each other, or will someone else get there first?
A/N: And here's the end. Thanks to everyone who's been reading and commenting. I really appreciate it!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10
Sam pressed the bag of ice to his aching head. There were plenty of other bumps and bruises he could have applied the ice to, but his head had seemed to take the worst of Parker’s blows.
“I suppose I owe you boys an apology,” Sergeant Davies drawled.
“You think?” Ray scowled, a matching bag of ice pressed to his knee.
“Be nice,” Sam muttered, though he was thinking the same.
“But, well, when it comes down ‘tween the word of someone you know and the word of a stranger, well round here, we always trust the locals,” Davies sighed.
“Yes. I’m sure it’s quite a shock, discovering Mr. Parker and his family were responsible,” Sam said as he sipped his pint with the hand not pressing ice to his bruises.
“Not really,” Davies shrugged, but said no more.
“Sergeant, I hope PC Dunlap will be duly recognized for his contributions to this investigation.”
“Oh, course he will.”
“Was only doing me job,” Dunlap shrugged.
“Yes, but your level of deductive reasoning was superb. You should be very proud of yourself, Oliver,” Sam smiled.
“Well, only knew what you told me. That house you described could only be the Kenley’s. And when I didn’t find owt there, just headed towards Parker’s farm, where I found you.”
“Smart thinking, Oliver,” Ray pat him on the back, then raised his pint. “To Oliver.”
“To Oliver,” Sam joined in.
“Aye, to young Oliver,” Davies smiled raising his glass. “Well, suppose you lads want to be off, then. Manchester’s probably missing a fine, pair of detectives like yourselves.”
“I’m sure they’re surviving just fine,” Sam smiled.
“Speak for yourself,” Ray mumbled.
“But, I guess we should be going.”
“Sure we can’t tempt you to stay another day?” Davies asked. “I know poor Betty would hate to see you go. Old lass has taken a strong liking to you. Even waived your entire bill. Yes, quite a liking.”
“Now that’s a good woman,” Ray toasted her, then downed the rest of his pint.
“Tell her thank you, but we really can’t stay. Our Guv will be wanting his car back.”
Sam finished his drink and the men exchanged their goodbyes. He told Oliver to call if he was ever in town, thanked Sergeant Davies for the pint and the meal, and left the warm pub, Ray following behind.
“Would you really want to stay another night?” Ray asked as Sam tossed him the keys.
“God no. Now let’s get the hell out of here before anything else happens.”
*
The day was moving slowly. A comfortable haze of smoke had settled upon the room as the wall clock slowly ticked away the long minutes. Clive was asleep. Geoff was pretending not to sleep. Chris was reading a comic book as a near-finished cigarette dangled from his lip. Cartwright appeared to be working, tapping out something on the type writer.
Gene leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs onto the desk as he lit a fag. It had been four days since he had sent Tyler and Carling out into the wilds of Northern England. He hadn’t heard from them in two, when Tyler had foolishly told him he’d lost the car. He decided they must still be looking for the Cortina. God help the poor sods if they didn’t find her.
Gene took a long drag and cracked open the fresh copy of Just Jugs, which had arrived for Ray in his absence, when he heard the doors of CID swing open. He heard two sets of footsteps marching towards him and needn’t take his eyes off the buxom blonde centerfold to know who had arrived.
The doors of his inner office pushed in and a set of keys were tossed into his lap.
“Oh, so you’ve decided to return, have you?” Gene sighed, as he picked up his keys. He finally looked up to see Tyler and Carling standing there side by side. They were utterly filthy, stinking in the same clothes they’d left in four days prior, and covered head to toe in bruises.
Gene barely raised an eyebrow.
“Have a nice trip?” He asked.
“Lovely,” Sam replied.
“Gorgeous weather,” Ray added.
“And I take it my car is parked perfectly outside without so much as a speck of dust on the floor?”
“Of course, Guv,” Sam nodded.
“Aye,” Ray agreed.
Gene crossed his arms.
“Alright then. Going to tell me what happened?”
“Nothing to tell, really. Is there, Ray?” Sam said.
“Nope,” Ray agreed. “Nothing at all.”
“Can barely remember, myself.”
“Like we were never there, ain’t it, Boss?”
“Couldn’t agree more, Sergeant.”
Gene eyed them suspiciously.
“You two going to cooperate from now on?” He warned.
Sam and Ray looked at each other, then back at Gene.
“Not sure, Guv,” Sam said.
“Wouldn’t bet on it,” Ray added.
Gene glared at them, then reopened the magazine.
“Then shift it. Smell worse than a cadaver in a glue factory. Go home, get cleaned up, and be here nine a.m. sharp, tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, Guv.”
“Aye, Guv.”
Sam and Ray spun round and marched back out of his office and out of CID. Gene watched them leave, peering over the top of the centerfold’s tits. They were up to something. He was sure of it. Being the Guv, he knew it wouldn’t take him long to figure it out.
*
“Should we tell him what we left in the boot?” Ray asked as they descended the station steps.
“Think he’ll discover his present soon enough, don’t you?” Sam asked.
“Suppose so,” Ray agreed. “Want a lift home?”
“Sure. My legs are killing me.”
“Cos you were beaten by an old man,” Ray snickered.
“That was a solid oak cane, I’ll have you know.”
“Whatever you say, Boss.”
Sam and Ray crossed the front car park, passing the perfectly parked Cortina, neither seeming concerned with the confused “baa’s” echoing from the boot.