Fic: The Art of Being Lost and Found (19/?), blue cortina, dakfinv
Title: The Art of Being Lost and Found (19/?)
Author: dak
Word Count: 1494 (this part); (26,419 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.
A/N: And we're back. I did not mean to leave anyone hanging these past few days, but I was struck ill over the weekend and decided it wasn't a great idea to write plotty stuff while on prescription-strength painkillers. The brain is finally working again and I bring you the next part with my humble apologies. Please enjoy!
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
“We really, really, really have to find Gene.”
“We know, Tyler. But right now, we have to find out how your mate went from here to the bottom of the canal,” Ray sighed.
“Don’t talk to me as if I’m an idiot,” Sam snapped, rubbing his face in his hands before scrambling to his feet.
“You don’t make it easy,” Ray retorted.
“You don’t want my help? Fine,” Sam paced to the back of the room. “Fine, fine, fine. Go. Go on then. Proceed with your investigation. Leave me alone.”
“We do want your help, Sam,” Annie stepped forward, trying to placate him.
“Why are you even here?” Sam asked her as he itched a hand through his hair. “Haven’t been to see me at all. Not even after Gene left. Even Ray did that. And Chris? Chris bought me a pie. So, why are here, Annie? Because now I’m important? Now I’m a witness? Now I could be a witness?”
Annie marched out of the room without a word. Ray couldn’t blame here. He also couldn’t admit that Sam might have a point.
“Uhm, I’ll...” Chris stuttered. “I’ll go see if she’s alright.” He hurried out after her, leaving Ray alone with the nutter.
“You think she deserved that?” Ray asked.
Sam picked at a hangnail before shakily crossing his arms.
“Alright, Tyler. You know nowt? We’ll leave you alone.”
Sam shifted, as if about to speak, but remained silent.
“I’ll let them know we’re done with you. Permanently,” Ray left without waiting to see if Sam would respond. Not seeing Chris or Cartwright in the corridor, he informed Joe the orderly they were finished with Williams, and continued down the hall. Chris then rounded the corner, heading back towards him.
“Annie went to interview the nurses. I said we’d speak to the quack. Er, psychiatrist.”
“Good,” Ray nodded, refraining from asking how she was. Of course he know how she was. She was bloody angry. They all were.
They were escorted to Dr. Wynton’s office and Ray felt himself growing even more furious with Tyler. He thought it was so simple, the prat. They’d locked him up and forgot about him and that choice haunted no one but Sam. That choice hadn’t hurt any of them but Sam. It was always all about Sam Tyler.
*
They had to wait for Dr. Wynton to finish a therapy session before they were allowed to see her. As they sat outside her office, Ray hoped Annie was having luck with the nurses. His gut was telling him Tyler had something to do with Bresson’s death. Maybe the twonk was too spaced out to realize it, but it was too much of a coincidence that out of everyone in this god-awful place, it would be Sam Tyler’s roommate who was pulled from the canal.
“You’re quiet,” Chris mumbled, kicking at something with his shoe.
“Just thinking, is all,” he sighed.
“Detectives.”
Both their heads popped up as they were addressed by the doctor.
“Surprised to see you so soon,” she continued. “You’re here about Mr. Williams, I presume,” she unlocked her office door and motioned for them to follow her inside.
“Actually, we’re here about James Bresson,” Ray informed her.
“He’s not gotten himself into trouble already, has he?” she asked, settling herself behind her desk.
“What do you mean?”
“He was released Sunday morning. On a trial basis. James has made such progress over the past several months, we wanted to see how he’d take to acclimating back into society.”
“When’s the last time you heard from him?”
“I haven’t heard anything since he left on Sunday. He’s not meant to report back until Tuesday. Why? What has James done?”
“He’s dead,” Ray did not sugarcoat it. He didn’t think she would appreciate. Wynton’s calm face cracked for just a moment.
“How did it happen?” she asked quietly. There was only the slightest trace of sadness in her voice.
“Not sure yet. But, his body were pulled out of the canal this morning.”
Wynton nodded in understanding.
“Well, if you gentlemen need anything, let us know. The institution will be only too happy to help. James is...was...one of our success stories. It’s a shame...” she trailed off.
“Did he leave by himself Sunday?” Chris asked.
“No. No, he couldn’t have,” Wynton answered. “He doesn’t have his driver’s license. Someone was coming to pick him up, but I can’t recall...” she flicked through her notes. “The nurse at reception should have a log book. Whoever took James should be listed there.”
“Thank you,” Ray nodded and headed for the door.
“Cheers,” Chris smiled softly, “And we’re real sorry. He were a nice bloke, the one time I met him.”
Dr. Wynton returned the smile then focused on her papers while Ray and Chris left the room.
*
Annie was not yet downstairs when they arrived, so they decided to have a peek at the log book while they waited.
“There it is,” Chris pointed out. “Some bird named Shirley Kent picked him up at nine-thirty in the morning,” he pulled out his notebook and scribbled down the information. Ray glanced through the rest of the log.
“Looks like she’s the only one who’s been to see him,” Ray noted.
“His wife?” Chris asked.
“No. Wife’s dead. Maybe a sister. Cousin. The like,” Ray kept paging through the book, taking a less than methodological approach as he scrolled back and forth through the pages.
“Think maybe he did it himself?” Chris wondered. “I mean, he were from here. Could’ve decided to jump.”
“Maybe. Guess we’ll have to wait for Oswald to...” Ray’s breath caught in his throat as his finger fell on a familiar name. He reread it just to be sure he wasn’t imagining it.
“Ray?” Chris poked him in the shoulder.
“Bastard,” Ray cursed, ignoring Chris and grabbing the log off the desk before rushing out of the small office.
“Oi! Ray!” Chris called after him.
Ray didn’t look back as he took the stairs to the third ward, grabbing an orderly along the way, flashing his badge, and ordering the man to open various locked doors as they run. Luckily for Ray’s aching lungs, Tyler was in the first placed he checked - the canteen. He rushed over as Tyler was dutifully swallowing his pills and regarding the pitiful plate of food before him.
“You utter, bloody bastard!” he spat, throwing the book right next to Sam’s tray.
“Oh, now you want my help,” Sam remarked, ignoring the log and poking at his mush.
“You said you never had any visitors!” Ray continued to shout.
“I lied,” he shrugged. “It’s what crazy scum like me do after all, isn’t it?” he yawned and shook his head, the pills obviously having some effect.
“Tuesday, three weeks ago. He came to see you Tuesday three weeks ago!” Ray pointed in the book.
“And?” Sam asked, forking a load of goo into his mouth. Ray smacked his hand away, sending the fork scattering across the floor.
“That makes you the last person to see him alive!”
“S’pose so,” Sam leaned back in his chair and stared at his fingers.
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“You have to promise not to yell,” Sam told him. “Or hurt me,” he winced involuntarily.
“I’ll do more than that if you don’t tell me owt. So, why didn’t you tell us?”
“Because I wasn’t supposed to,” Sam mumbled.
“Say that again?” Ray asked as Chris finally caught up to them and stood beside him, panting heavily.
“You weren’t supposed to know. It wasn’t part of the plan,” Sam spoke in sing-song, refusing to make eye contact.
“What bloody plan? Do you know where Gene is?”
“The Guv?” Chris asked, failing to catch up with the conversation.
“Well...” Sam started.
“Because if you do and you haven’t told us...” he could feel Chris holding him back.
“No! No no no. I don’t. Well, no, I don’t. Well, not anymore,” Sam lowered his head. “I did say we had to find him.”
Ray felt an eerie calm descend upon him. His upper lip curled as he called an orderly over.
“I want him locked in a room, strapped down. He’s not cooperating.”
“Whoa whoa whoa!” Sam held up his hands and scooted away from the table. “I’ll help you. I said I’d help you.”
“Yeah? Well I don’t trust you. Like we told you before, Williams, you’re a danger to yourself and others. Lock him in one of those solitary rooms. Talk to his doc if you’ve any problems.”
“No. Wait. Ray. DS Carling. You don’t...I’ll explain. I will!”
The orderly paid Sam no heed as he grabbed him by the arms and dragged him away. Sam tried to fight, but his drugs had made him weak.
Chris stared open-mouthed.
“We’re getting to the bottom of this now,” Ray snarled at Skelton’s silent protest and stormed off after the lying bastard psychopath.
Author: dak
Word Count: 1494 (this part); (26,419 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.
A/N: And we're back. I did not mean to leave anyone hanging these past few days, but I was struck ill over the weekend and decided it wasn't a great idea to write plotty stuff while on prescription-strength painkillers. The brain is finally working again and I bring you the next part with my humble apologies. Please enjoy!
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
“We really, really, really have to find Gene.”
“We know, Tyler. But right now, we have to find out how your mate went from here to the bottom of the canal,” Ray sighed.
“Don’t talk to me as if I’m an idiot,” Sam snapped, rubbing his face in his hands before scrambling to his feet.
“You don’t make it easy,” Ray retorted.
“You don’t want my help? Fine,” Sam paced to the back of the room. “Fine, fine, fine. Go. Go on then. Proceed with your investigation. Leave me alone.”
“We do want your help, Sam,” Annie stepped forward, trying to placate him.
“Why are you even here?” Sam asked her as he itched a hand through his hair. “Haven’t been to see me at all. Not even after Gene left. Even Ray did that. And Chris? Chris bought me a pie. So, why are here, Annie? Because now I’m important? Now I’m a witness? Now I could be a witness?”
Annie marched out of the room without a word. Ray couldn’t blame here. He also couldn’t admit that Sam might have a point.
“Uhm, I’ll...” Chris stuttered. “I’ll go see if she’s alright.” He hurried out after her, leaving Ray alone with the nutter.
“You think she deserved that?” Ray asked.
Sam picked at a hangnail before shakily crossing his arms.
“Alright, Tyler. You know nowt? We’ll leave you alone.”
Sam shifted, as if about to speak, but remained silent.
“I’ll let them know we’re done with you. Permanently,” Ray left without waiting to see if Sam would respond. Not seeing Chris or Cartwright in the corridor, he informed Joe the orderly they were finished with Williams, and continued down the hall. Chris then rounded the corner, heading back towards him.
“Annie went to interview the nurses. I said we’d speak to the quack. Er, psychiatrist.”
“Good,” Ray nodded, refraining from asking how she was. Of course he know how she was. She was bloody angry. They all were.
They were escorted to Dr. Wynton’s office and Ray felt himself growing even more furious with Tyler. He thought it was so simple, the prat. They’d locked him up and forgot about him and that choice haunted no one but Sam. That choice hadn’t hurt any of them but Sam. It was always all about Sam Tyler.
*
They had to wait for Dr. Wynton to finish a therapy session before they were allowed to see her. As they sat outside her office, Ray hoped Annie was having luck with the nurses. His gut was telling him Tyler had something to do with Bresson’s death. Maybe the twonk was too spaced out to realize it, but it was too much of a coincidence that out of everyone in this god-awful place, it would be Sam Tyler’s roommate who was pulled from the canal.
“You’re quiet,” Chris mumbled, kicking at something with his shoe.
“Just thinking, is all,” he sighed.
“Detectives.”
Both their heads popped up as they were addressed by the doctor.
“Surprised to see you so soon,” she continued. “You’re here about Mr. Williams, I presume,” she unlocked her office door and motioned for them to follow her inside.
“Actually, we’re here about James Bresson,” Ray informed her.
“He’s not gotten himself into trouble already, has he?” she asked, settling herself behind her desk.
“What do you mean?”
“He was released Sunday morning. On a trial basis. James has made such progress over the past several months, we wanted to see how he’d take to acclimating back into society.”
“When’s the last time you heard from him?”
“I haven’t heard anything since he left on Sunday. He’s not meant to report back until Tuesday. Why? What has James done?”
“He’s dead,” Ray did not sugarcoat it. He didn’t think she would appreciate. Wynton’s calm face cracked for just a moment.
“How did it happen?” she asked quietly. There was only the slightest trace of sadness in her voice.
“Not sure yet. But, his body were pulled out of the canal this morning.”
Wynton nodded in understanding.
“Well, if you gentlemen need anything, let us know. The institution will be only too happy to help. James is...was...one of our success stories. It’s a shame...” she trailed off.
“Did he leave by himself Sunday?” Chris asked.
“No. No, he couldn’t have,” Wynton answered. “He doesn’t have his driver’s license. Someone was coming to pick him up, but I can’t recall...” she flicked through her notes. “The nurse at reception should have a log book. Whoever took James should be listed there.”
“Thank you,” Ray nodded and headed for the door.
“Cheers,” Chris smiled softly, “And we’re real sorry. He were a nice bloke, the one time I met him.”
Dr. Wynton returned the smile then focused on her papers while Ray and Chris left the room.
*
Annie was not yet downstairs when they arrived, so they decided to have a peek at the log book while they waited.
“There it is,” Chris pointed out. “Some bird named Shirley Kent picked him up at nine-thirty in the morning,” he pulled out his notebook and scribbled down the information. Ray glanced through the rest of the log.
“Looks like she’s the only one who’s been to see him,” Ray noted.
“His wife?” Chris asked.
“No. Wife’s dead. Maybe a sister. Cousin. The like,” Ray kept paging through the book, taking a less than methodological approach as he scrolled back and forth through the pages.
“Think maybe he did it himself?” Chris wondered. “I mean, he were from here. Could’ve decided to jump.”
“Maybe. Guess we’ll have to wait for Oswald to...” Ray’s breath caught in his throat as his finger fell on a familiar name. He reread it just to be sure he wasn’t imagining it.
“Ray?” Chris poked him in the shoulder.
“Bastard,” Ray cursed, ignoring Chris and grabbing the log off the desk before rushing out of the small office.
“Oi! Ray!” Chris called after him.
Ray didn’t look back as he took the stairs to the third ward, grabbing an orderly along the way, flashing his badge, and ordering the man to open various locked doors as they run. Luckily for Ray’s aching lungs, Tyler was in the first placed he checked - the canteen. He rushed over as Tyler was dutifully swallowing his pills and regarding the pitiful plate of food before him.
“You utter, bloody bastard!” he spat, throwing the book right next to Sam’s tray.
“Oh, now you want my help,” Sam remarked, ignoring the log and poking at his mush.
“You said you never had any visitors!” Ray continued to shout.
“I lied,” he shrugged. “It’s what crazy scum like me do after all, isn’t it?” he yawned and shook his head, the pills obviously having some effect.
“Tuesday, three weeks ago. He came to see you Tuesday three weeks ago!” Ray pointed in the book.
“And?” Sam asked, forking a load of goo into his mouth. Ray smacked his hand away, sending the fork scattering across the floor.
“That makes you the last person to see him alive!”
“S’pose so,” Sam leaned back in his chair and stared at his fingers.
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“You have to promise not to yell,” Sam told him. “Or hurt me,” he winced involuntarily.
“I’ll do more than that if you don’t tell me owt. So, why didn’t you tell us?”
“Because I wasn’t supposed to,” Sam mumbled.
“Say that again?” Ray asked as Chris finally caught up to them and stood beside him, panting heavily.
“You weren’t supposed to know. It wasn’t part of the plan,” Sam spoke in sing-song, refusing to make eye contact.
“What bloody plan? Do you know where Gene is?”
“The Guv?” Chris asked, failing to catch up with the conversation.
“Well...” Sam started.
“Because if you do and you haven’t told us...” he could feel Chris holding him back.
“No! No no no. I don’t. Well, no, I don’t. Well, not anymore,” Sam lowered his head. “I did say we had to find him.”
Ray felt an eerie calm descend upon him. His upper lip curled as he called an orderly over.
“I want him locked in a room, strapped down. He’s not cooperating.”
“Whoa whoa whoa!” Sam held up his hands and scooted away from the table. “I’ll help you. I said I’d help you.”
“Yeah? Well I don’t trust you. Like we told you before, Williams, you’re a danger to yourself and others. Lock him in one of those solitary rooms. Talk to his doc if you’ve any problems.”
“No. Wait. Ray. DS Carling. You don’t...I’ll explain. I will!”
The orderly paid Sam no heed as he grabbed him by the arms and dragged him away. Sam tried to fight, but his drugs had made him weak.
Chris stared open-mouthed.
“We’re getting to the bottom of this now,” Ray snarled at Skelton’s silent protest and stormed off after the lying bastard psychopath.