Fic: The Art of Being Lost and Found (29/?), blue cortina, dakfinv
Title: The Art of Being Lost and Found (29/?)
Author: dak
Word Count: 1232 (this part); (41,798 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 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28
“Still, DS Carling, I cannot understand why you decided to bring him here. Surely, there must have been other...locations which would be more fitting?”
“You mean other nuthouses?” Ray asked Carter. “Too easy to trace.”
“Only if it was Mr. Williams they were looking for. If the attacks are specifically targeting patients of Fox Hollow, there is no reason to assume the suspects would go after Mr. Williams a second time.”
“There would be if he could identify ‘em.”
“Can he?”
“I haven’t asked him yet,” Ray crossed his arms.
“Hm,” Carter replied, staring out the blinds at Sam, and Chris, who was babysitting him. “I understand that he is your former officer...”
“That ain’t got nowt to do with it,” Ray snapped. “You ask anyone in here, they’ll tell you I don’t give two shits ‘bout the ponce. I did what I thought was right as a copper, not because he’s me mate. Because believe you me, he most certainly ain’t.”
“Now, now, Sergeant. There’s no reason to get upset.”
“’Now, now’ yourself, you nonce. I’ve got work to do. You going to let me do it or what?”
Carter did not reply quick enough and Ray was out the door without another word.
“I’m tired,” Sam moped as Carling came near.
“You’ll sleep when you’re dead,” Ray grabbed a chair and sat across from Sam as Chris watched. “Tell me what you remember about yesterday.”
“You...said I could change,” Sam leaned in and whispered, glancing down at his shirt which was still covered up by his jacket.
“Fine,” Ray huffed and grabbed him by the arm, basically dragging him out of CID while ordering Chris to stay put. He pulled Tyler into Lost and Found then tossed him into one of the interrogation chairs. Leaving Sam there, he walked to a few dusty boxes stacked in the far corner, scooped up the closest one, and dropped it onto the table.
“There. Now talk.”
“You don’t have to be so...rough with everything...you know?” Sam told him as he carefully opened the box.
“Duly noted, Princess Anne. Tell me about the attack.”
“Not much to tell,” Sam replied, picking through the box. “Was this washed?” he asked, picking out a striped, button-down shirt.
“The hell should I know?” Ray snorted, searching his pockets for his fags.
“It was just one man,” Sam said as he removed his jacket.
“What’d he look like?”
“Don’t know, really. Not big. Lean, but fit.”
“Enjoyed staring at him, did you? Knew you were queer.”
Sam only glared in response as he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his exposed and bruised chest.
“Any...vests?” he asked, peering into the box. Ray looked in, saw one near the bottom, pulled it out, and tossed it at him. “Cheers,” Sam replied half-heartedly. “Was quiet...he was. Moved quickly. Fast. Without being heard.”
“So, what color was his hair? Did he have a big nose? Did he say owt? Was he wearing a pink, frilly dress? Give us summat to work with.”
“I know how...to give a statement. It’s a lot harder when parts of your...brain won’t work, alright?”
Ray gave up his pacing and sat in the chair opposite Tyler, the box partially blocking his view as Sam stripped off his shirt and struggled to slip on the vest.
“You find...the letter?” Sam asked once the vest was over his head.
“Yeah. Lucky for you. Looks like the Guv’s in London.”
“London,” Sam repeated. “Yes. I knew he was in England.”
“And the girl - Dorothy Hunt.”
“Dorothy. Fitting,” he sighed.
“’S a family name. Guv’s gran’s. Girl is Stu’s, makes sense.”
“Marjorie and Gladys family names, too?”
“No. He just thinks you look like a Marjorie or Gladys.”
“Stu...he’s dead?” Sam asked, finally finishing with his new shirt.
“Yeah. Well, always assumed he was. Guv never talks about him ‘less he’s pissed. Summat happened with Stu, first year I made detective. Don’t know what. Gene wouldn’t say.”
“The mother?”
“Linda, ‘ccording to the letter. No family name. Could be Hunt, but Stu don’t strike me as the marrying type.”
“Should...should track her down. Have more history...records...than a little girl. See if there’s any mention in the files...Could have records. Caused trouble.”
“You know how many Lindas there are round here?”
“Better idea?” Sam asked, leaning back in his chair and closing his good eye.
“Yeah. We go down to London, find the Guv, and bring him back.”
“And look where? Start where? No connections there. No snouts. Case started here. You start here,” he tapped the table for emphasis.
“Fine. I’ll see what Chris can dig up. Knows Collator’s like the back of his hand cos of you.”
That managed to get the smallest smile out of Sam.
“Right. You’re dressed. Phyllis said she’d look after you so we don’t have to keep you in cells. Don’t you dare cross that woman.”
“Wouldn’t,” Sam shook his head. “Too scared of her.”
Ray nodded, then cleaned off the table and escorted Sam out of the room. “Tyler,” he asked as they entered the corridor. It was something that was still bothering him and he decided he might as well ask while Sam was lucid.
“Hm?” The increasingly sleepy man answered.
“Why were you watching Hynes?”
“Who?”
“Lawrence Hynes. The baker.”
“Never heard of him,” Sam shrugged.
*
“...completely irresponsible!”
“Annie, there weren’t no other choice.”
Ray was immediately bombarded with the sounds of an argument as soon as he entered the locker room.
“And who gave you the authority to make this decision in the first place?”
“His life could be in danger.”
“That’s a poor excuse and you know it! If they’d wanted to kill him, they would’ve killed him. Not like he could defend himself, is it?”
“Stronger than you think,” Ray cut in, revealing his presence to Annie and Chris.
“And he’s weaker than you think! Mental illness...”
“He’s on drugs. Doc made sure we had ‘em ‘fore we left.”
“Drugs won’t do anything except keep him tame. His treatment should be a combination of, of medication, of therapy, and...”
“Zaps to the brain?” Ray asked.
“In cases like Sam’s, it has been shown to work.”
“That’s bullshit, Annie, and I know you don’t believe it. It just makes what the drugs do, permanent. I might not have some poncey degree, but I can see that much for meself.”
“And suddenly you’re his great defender? Ray Carling - the man who was willing to kill him over a tape recording.”
“You’re lucky you’re a bird, Cartwright,” Ray snarled, stepping closer.
“Ray. Annie...” Chris nervously tried to step between them.
“Or else what?” she asked, coming closer herself.
“This ain’t helping,” Chris spoke meekly.
“You’re right, Chris. It’s not,” Annie hissed. “I told you I wanted no part in Sam’s involvement. This is only going to hurt him and I will not take any responsibility for it.”
“Some mate you are,” Ray baited her as she stormed to the door.
“Sometimes friends need to say no,” she bit back and disappeared out the door.
“Uhm, should I...?” Chris asked.
“Should you go down to Collator’s and look up owt to do with a bird named Linda? Yeah, Chris. I think you should,” Ray pat him on the back then shoved him to the door, wondering if this would be the worst day or the best day of Tyler’s temporary release.
Author: dak
Word Count: 1232 (this part); (41,798 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 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28
“Still, DS Carling, I cannot understand why you decided to bring him here. Surely, there must have been other...locations which would be more fitting?”
“You mean other nuthouses?” Ray asked Carter. “Too easy to trace.”
“Only if it was Mr. Williams they were looking for. If the attacks are specifically targeting patients of Fox Hollow, there is no reason to assume the suspects would go after Mr. Williams a second time.”
“There would be if he could identify ‘em.”
“Can he?”
“I haven’t asked him yet,” Ray crossed his arms.
“Hm,” Carter replied, staring out the blinds at Sam, and Chris, who was babysitting him. “I understand that he is your former officer...”
“That ain’t got nowt to do with it,” Ray snapped. “You ask anyone in here, they’ll tell you I don’t give two shits ‘bout the ponce. I did what I thought was right as a copper, not because he’s me mate. Because believe you me, he most certainly ain’t.”
“Now, now, Sergeant. There’s no reason to get upset.”
“’Now, now’ yourself, you nonce. I’ve got work to do. You going to let me do it or what?”
Carter did not reply quick enough and Ray was out the door without another word.
“I’m tired,” Sam moped as Carling came near.
“You’ll sleep when you’re dead,” Ray grabbed a chair and sat across from Sam as Chris watched. “Tell me what you remember about yesterday.”
“You...said I could change,” Sam leaned in and whispered, glancing down at his shirt which was still covered up by his jacket.
“Fine,” Ray huffed and grabbed him by the arm, basically dragging him out of CID while ordering Chris to stay put. He pulled Tyler into Lost and Found then tossed him into one of the interrogation chairs. Leaving Sam there, he walked to a few dusty boxes stacked in the far corner, scooped up the closest one, and dropped it onto the table.
“There. Now talk.”
“You don’t have to be so...rough with everything...you know?” Sam told him as he carefully opened the box.
“Duly noted, Princess Anne. Tell me about the attack.”
“Not much to tell,” Sam replied, picking through the box. “Was this washed?” he asked, picking out a striped, button-down shirt.
“The hell should I know?” Ray snorted, searching his pockets for his fags.
“It was just one man,” Sam said as he removed his jacket.
“What’d he look like?”
“Don’t know, really. Not big. Lean, but fit.”
“Enjoyed staring at him, did you? Knew you were queer.”
Sam only glared in response as he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his exposed and bruised chest.
“Any...vests?” he asked, peering into the box. Ray looked in, saw one near the bottom, pulled it out, and tossed it at him. “Cheers,” Sam replied half-heartedly. “Was quiet...he was. Moved quickly. Fast. Without being heard.”
“So, what color was his hair? Did he have a big nose? Did he say owt? Was he wearing a pink, frilly dress? Give us summat to work with.”
“I know how...to give a statement. It’s a lot harder when parts of your...brain won’t work, alright?”
Ray gave up his pacing and sat in the chair opposite Tyler, the box partially blocking his view as Sam stripped off his shirt and struggled to slip on the vest.
“You find...the letter?” Sam asked once the vest was over his head.
“Yeah. Lucky for you. Looks like the Guv’s in London.”
“London,” Sam repeated. “Yes. I knew he was in England.”
“And the girl - Dorothy Hunt.”
“Dorothy. Fitting,” he sighed.
“’S a family name. Guv’s gran’s. Girl is Stu’s, makes sense.”
“Marjorie and Gladys family names, too?”
“No. He just thinks you look like a Marjorie or Gladys.”
“Stu...he’s dead?” Sam asked, finally finishing with his new shirt.
“Yeah. Well, always assumed he was. Guv never talks about him ‘less he’s pissed. Summat happened with Stu, first year I made detective. Don’t know what. Gene wouldn’t say.”
“The mother?”
“Linda, ‘ccording to the letter. No family name. Could be Hunt, but Stu don’t strike me as the marrying type.”
“Should...should track her down. Have more history...records...than a little girl. See if there’s any mention in the files...Could have records. Caused trouble.”
“You know how many Lindas there are round here?”
“Better idea?” Sam asked, leaning back in his chair and closing his good eye.
“Yeah. We go down to London, find the Guv, and bring him back.”
“And look where? Start where? No connections there. No snouts. Case started here. You start here,” he tapped the table for emphasis.
“Fine. I’ll see what Chris can dig up. Knows Collator’s like the back of his hand cos of you.”
That managed to get the smallest smile out of Sam.
“Right. You’re dressed. Phyllis said she’d look after you so we don’t have to keep you in cells. Don’t you dare cross that woman.”
“Wouldn’t,” Sam shook his head. “Too scared of her.”
Ray nodded, then cleaned off the table and escorted Sam out of the room. “Tyler,” he asked as they entered the corridor. It was something that was still bothering him and he decided he might as well ask while Sam was lucid.
“Hm?” The increasingly sleepy man answered.
“Why were you watching Hynes?”
“Who?”
“Lawrence Hynes. The baker.”
“Never heard of him,” Sam shrugged.
*
“...completely irresponsible!”
“Annie, there weren’t no other choice.”
Ray was immediately bombarded with the sounds of an argument as soon as he entered the locker room.
“And who gave you the authority to make this decision in the first place?”
“His life could be in danger.”
“That’s a poor excuse and you know it! If they’d wanted to kill him, they would’ve killed him. Not like he could defend himself, is it?”
“Stronger than you think,” Ray cut in, revealing his presence to Annie and Chris.
“And he’s weaker than you think! Mental illness...”
“He’s on drugs. Doc made sure we had ‘em ‘fore we left.”
“Drugs won’t do anything except keep him tame. His treatment should be a combination of, of medication, of therapy, and...”
“Zaps to the brain?” Ray asked.
“In cases like Sam’s, it has been shown to work.”
“That’s bullshit, Annie, and I know you don’t believe it. It just makes what the drugs do, permanent. I might not have some poncey degree, but I can see that much for meself.”
“And suddenly you’re his great defender? Ray Carling - the man who was willing to kill him over a tape recording.”
“You’re lucky you’re a bird, Cartwright,” Ray snarled, stepping closer.
“Ray. Annie...” Chris nervously tried to step between them.
“Or else what?” she asked, coming closer herself.
“This ain’t helping,” Chris spoke meekly.
“You’re right, Chris. It’s not,” Annie hissed. “I told you I wanted no part in Sam’s involvement. This is only going to hurt him and I will not take any responsibility for it.”
“Some mate you are,” Ray baited her as she stormed to the door.
“Sometimes friends need to say no,” she bit back and disappeared out the door.
“Uhm, should I...?” Chris asked.
“Should you go down to Collator’s and look up owt to do with a bird named Linda? Yeah, Chris. I think you should,” Ray pat him on the back then shoved him to the door, wondering if this would be the worst day or the best day of Tyler’s temporary release.