Crocodile Tears [11/?]
Title: Crocodile Tears [12/?]
Rating: R
Fandom: Bandom [Elliot Minor/Empires/Suns]
Pairing(s): So far, Tom Conrad/ Mikey Russell
Summary: Murder and abduction is never easy, but the Princes in the Tower case is turning out to be something else entirely. Alex Davies wasn't expecting this after the Bernstein case.
Genre: AU/Angst
Warnings: swearing, violence, murder, character death, child abuse, domestic abuse
Notes: [1639 words]
“I want to see him.” Teddy looked up as Alex entered. “I want to see my son.” He bit his lip. His blue eyes were even more vivid than normal, looking up pleadingly. He looked young.
“I... I’ll see if forensics have finished.” The policeman said gently.
“Is... is it bad?” Teddy looked nervous. “Is he...?”
“I haven’t really seen him.” The older man said apologetically. He stepped out the room and picked up his phone, dialling Max’s number.
“Max Steger?” The constable in forensics picked up after three rings. Alex liked Max. He was young, he was quite sweet - and Alex was determined not to get involved in the ongoing arguments between Tom and Mikey, so he was ignoring Max’s part in it.
“Max, have they finished with the body in forensics?” The older man asked quietly. “Hetherton wants to see him.”
“We’ve determined cause of death, and we’ve noted all the wounds, et cetera.” He could hear the younger turning pages in the forensics file. “Oh, this should interest you - we’ve found no signs of sexual abuse.”
“Really?” Alex swallowed. “Wow, that’s - that’s good. Can Hetherton see him?”
“Give me five.” Max responded. “I’ll put some clothes on him. He might look a bit better. He won’t win any beauty contests, but hey.” Used to the black humour of the forensics - it was the only way that the department could do their job and retain their sanity - Alex didn’t comment.
“Thanks Max. See you soon.” He put his mobile back in his pocket and walked into the room. “Ok, Mr Hetherton, forensics have said you can see him.” Teddy let himself be pulled up, his hands cuffed together. “Don’t try anything.” Alex warned him as they walked along.
“I’m not planning on it.” Was the response he got, accompanied by narrowed blue eyes. “I just want to see Edward.”
“What happened to your wife?” Alex asked, curious. “Or girlfriend, or whatever.”
“Don’t have one.” Teddy seemed to draw into himself slightly. “They were carried by a surrogate.” Before Alex could ask any more questions, they were in the forensics department. The older constable gave Max a wan smile.
“Mr Hetherton?” Max pushed his glasses up his nose. “I’m Max Steger, I work in forensics. I... I’m sorry, sir.”
Teddy didn’t say anything. He walked towards the body laid out on a slab, reaching out his hands the best he could, before jerking back and looking over his shoulder. “Can I touch him?” His voice cracked.
“It’s probably not best for the time being.” The forensics constable shrugged apologetically. “In case something new comes up.”
“Of course.” Teddy nodded, looking back to the dead body of his eldest son. He still wasn’t crying, but Alex could see he was falling apart. Mikey had said that he was shaking when he gave his first statement, he was shaking now. “Edward...” The younger man whispered in a broken voice.
“Alex!” Max noticed it before he did. The two darted in as Teddy’s knees gave way.
“Mr Hetherton, are you ok?” Alex helped him up. He looked dazed. “I better take him back.” He bit his lip.
He knew that seeing the body had made Teddy vulnerable, and they had to act on it. And he knew Teddy had lied. If he was twenty three, as his file suggested, then he would have been eighteen when Edward was born. And there was no way a surrogate could have been involved.
-
“Who’s Alistair Paul?” Mikey brought the question out of nowhere. Alex was watching Teddy’s face, but it was as impassive as ever, despite the trauma of earlier.
“My lawyer.” The younger man’s voice had a smirk in it as he pointed to the man sitting next to him, acting as his legal representative.
“That’s highly doubtful, seeing as Mr Paul has an Indian background, and the two children you claim to be yours are Caucasian.” The chief constable fired back immediately. The suspect jolted. “Mr Hetherton, we got a call from York Social Services a week ago, saying that Richard and Edward Hetherton are actually Richard and Edward Paul.”
“What?” Teddy’s face was grey.
“Alistair Paul was being investigated for spousal and domestic abuse when he disappeared with his two children, about two and a half years ago.” Mikey recited calmly. “He took his sons, torched the car and disappeared, leaving behind a very distressed wife. Never found, end of story. Where do you fit into this?”
“I - I don’t.” The younger man was drawing back from the table. Alex and Tom exchanged glances. “They’re separate stories. York Social made a mistake.”
“Only they didn’t.” Mikey cut across him. “The boys match. Edward had a particular burn on his shoulder that Alistair Paul caused. And as does the corpse.” He leant forward. “You took those boys. Why did you do it? When did you do it?”
“They’re mine.” Teddy whispered. “I swear to God, they’re mine.” His blue eyes flashed upwards. He was panicking.
“You’re wearing contacts.” The chief constable stated calmly. “I know you are. Take them out. Now.” The younger man’s hands flew to his eyes. “I said now, Mr Hetherton.”
Slowly, Teddy dragged his lower lid down, pulling out the lens that turned his iris bright blue. Without the film, his eyes were a wise dark brown. They were reddening - Mikey estimated that he hadn’t changed the lenses in two or three days.
“How did he know?” Alex hissed to Tom.
The blonde shrugged. “He figured it out last night.”
“When did you take the boys from Alistair Paul?” Mikey demanded again. “Why did you? Was it to protect them? You know you have no claim to them.”
Alex watched Teddy. The man hadn’t looked up from the lenses in his hand. He clenched his fist and darted his head up, slipping on his unemotional mask. His shoulders were hunched up, as though to protect himself.
Something clicked.
“You - you didn’t take the boys.” It burst out of Alex. Teddy’s head whipped around to look at the constable. “You never took them.” He whispered. “They were yours all along - you’re Alistair Paul. You took the boys, you ran, and you changed your name.” The younger man bowed his head. “But - why?”
t