Fic: The Art of Being Lost and Found (39/?), blue cortina, dakfinv
Title: The Art of Being Lost and Found (39/?)
Author: dak
Word Count: 1221 (this part); (56,513 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
Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38
“Look, my guv’nor can’t know I’ve been letting you peak at these. Real territorial, he is.”
“Didn’t seem to bother you last night,” Sam said nonchalantly, staring at the dull gray alley they found themselves in.
“He don’t care ‘bout a couple o’ prozzies, but he finds out you’re messing with a few of the gangs round here, it’ll be my head,” Reggie pleased. “Some of these blokes, he’s been after ‘em for years.”
“Reg, we’re not trying to step on anyone’s turf,” Ray said genially. “And we’re not looking to steal your collars. We’re just trying to find one bloke.”
“One very hard to hide bloke,” Sam added, crouching down to examine the dirt at his feet.
“Alright, alright. I’ll see what I can do. But for now, this is all I’ve got,” he handed Ray a fresh stack of files.
“Cheers, mate. You know we owe you for this,” Ray pat him on the arm.
“Bet your arse you owe me,” Reggie grunted. “Here,” he pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket and started scribbling down an address. “Meet me at the Duke of York pub round seven-thirty. If I can get hold of anything, I’ll give it to you then. Okay?” He handed the paper to Ray. “I better be getting back.”
“Right. See you, Reg,” Ray tucked the note into his pocket, then turned to Tyler, who was examining a nearby wall.
“Can we look over those at a cafe?” Sam asked, spinning away from the apparently very interesting wall.
“Thirsty?”
“Hungry.”
“We just ate. Since when are you so anxious for food?”
“You try eating oatmeal everyday for four months,” Tyler walked off out of the alley, not checking to see if Ray would follow. Ray tucked the files under his arm and hurried after his unwanted partner.
*
Sam devoured his first pastry, then moved onto the next before Ray had even finished his first.
“This treacle tart is brilliant,” Sam spoke with awe after swallowing his first bite. Do you think they have any treacle sponge here? I didn’t see any,” he looked over his shoulder towards the counter.
“You’re doing this to annoy me, aren’t you?” Ray glared, poking at his cake.
“Depends what you’re referring to.”
“Spending all my money. You never ate like this before.”
“Oh. Then, no,” he said, dabbing his mouth with a napkin.
“No, what?”
“You said I was doing this to annoy you. I replied that I did not know what you were referring to. You answered that I was spending all your money in my effort to annoy you. And I replied that, no. That is not the case,” Sam took another bite.
“Well...right. So...” Ray stuttered, confused.
“So why am I eating so much?” Sam looked down at his plate. “I want to put on weight before I go back to that hospital. The fact that it annoys you is an added bonus,” Sam grinned.
“If there’s a God, the Guv’ll walk through that door right this second.”
The small chime on the cafe door rang. Both men turned to watch as a young woman with a pram entered. Ray returned to his cake. He didn’t want to admit he was a bit disappointed. By the look on Sam’s face, neither did he.
“You want this?” Ray held up the first file. Sam, who was busy chewing, motioned for Ray to hand it over.
“Cheers,” he said after he swallowed, then he pushed his plate aside to make room for the folder. “What would really help,” he started, flipping open the cover, “what would really help is if we found the person that wrote that letter.”
“I have thought of that, Sherlock.”
“Sherlock? Does that make you Watson, then?” Sam asked without missing a beat.
“The Guv showed you the letter. He talked to you about it. Did he have any idea who sent it?”
Sam paused in his reading.
“Well?”
“I’m thinking.”
“Oh I forgot. That’s hard for you nowadays, innit?”
“It was right before you lot had me committed. Right before they began the electroshock. I’m sorry if my memory is less than it should be right now,” Sam snapped.
Ray reluctantly backed off, remembering the scene he had witnessed at Fox Hollow - Tyler strapped to the bed while the doctor placed those things on his head. A minute passed in silence, Tyler reading, Ray thinking.
“What’s it like?” he asked.
“Care to try it?” Sam sneered.
“Really. What does it feel like?” Ray shifted uncomfortably, displeased that he’d allowed his curiosity to get the better of him. “Is it like when you slip across the carpet in your stockings, then touch a doorknob, or is it...I don’t know. Never mind,” Ray shook his head. Another minute passed in silence, Ray reading, Tyler thinking.
“It affects your short-term memory,” Sam began quietly, staring at a spot on the table. “So I never remember what it feels like. One minute, I’ll be sitting in a chair, playing cards or reading. Then...it’s like I wake up, without ever having fallen asleep. I can’t think clearly. Every time I try to form a thought, it slips away before it’s finished. All I know is that I wasn’t where I was before, but I don’t know why, and I get confused. It wears off slowly and I realize I’m forgetting something I knew before, but I don’t know what. I spend all my time trying to remember and suddenly it’s tomorrow.”
Sam, whose eyes had become glassy, blinked rapidly and refocused his attention on the file. They passed another minute in silence, Ray thinking, Tyler thinking.
“Gene had no idea who wrote the letter,” Sam began. “He tried to track the writer down while he was in Manchester, but found nothing. At least, nothing he told me about.”
“When he told you he was leaving, did he say where he was going to start? If we could trace his footsteps...”
“I’d...they’d started the ECT that day. I...I was recovering, but still pretty out of it. The first time, it’s the worst. I remember he was shouting at me and I just...I just stared at him, trying to figure out how I knew him. He shook me by my shoulders. I drooled on his hand,” Sam’s voice cracked on the last word, and he quickly wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “I can’t remember the details. How can I be a detective if I can’t remember the details?” he asked himself, anger brewing beneath the surface.
“Well,” Ray cleared his throat. “Least you remember that much.”
“Soho!” Sam then blurted out. “He...when he called me, the first time. Or was it the second? He said he was following up a lead in Soho.”
“Remember owt else? Name of a pub? A girl?”
“No. No, he wouldn’t tell me. I don’t know why. But, I’d say the Guv was memorable, wouldn’t you? Maybe if we canvass the area, we’ll find someone who remembers him.”
“Remembers him and is willing to talk. That’s a bloody tall order.”
“It’s something.”
“Which is better than nowt, I suppose. Let’s go through these files, then head over.”
Sam nodded.
“Oh,” Tyler spoke again.
“What?” Ray asked. Sam pointed to the half-eaten cake.
“Are you going to finish that?”
Author: dak
Word Count: 1221 (this part); (56,513 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
Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38
“Look, my guv’nor can’t know I’ve been letting you peak at these. Real territorial, he is.”
“Didn’t seem to bother you last night,” Sam said nonchalantly, staring at the dull gray alley they found themselves in.
“He don’t care ‘bout a couple o’ prozzies, but he finds out you’re messing with a few of the gangs round here, it’ll be my head,” Reggie pleased. “Some of these blokes, he’s been after ‘em for years.”
“Reg, we’re not trying to step on anyone’s turf,” Ray said genially. “And we’re not looking to steal your collars. We’re just trying to find one bloke.”
“One very hard to hide bloke,” Sam added, crouching down to examine the dirt at his feet.
“Alright, alright. I’ll see what I can do. But for now, this is all I’ve got,” he handed Ray a fresh stack of files.
“Cheers, mate. You know we owe you for this,” Ray pat him on the arm.
“Bet your arse you owe me,” Reggie grunted. “Here,” he pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket and started scribbling down an address. “Meet me at the Duke of York pub round seven-thirty. If I can get hold of anything, I’ll give it to you then. Okay?” He handed the paper to Ray. “I better be getting back.”
“Right. See you, Reg,” Ray tucked the note into his pocket, then turned to Tyler, who was examining a nearby wall.
“Can we look over those at a cafe?” Sam asked, spinning away from the apparently very interesting wall.
“Thirsty?”
“Hungry.”
“We just ate. Since when are you so anxious for food?”
“You try eating oatmeal everyday for four months,” Tyler walked off out of the alley, not checking to see if Ray would follow. Ray tucked the files under his arm and hurried after his unwanted partner.
*
Sam devoured his first pastry, then moved onto the next before Ray had even finished his first.
“This treacle tart is brilliant,” Sam spoke with awe after swallowing his first bite. Do you think they have any treacle sponge here? I didn’t see any,” he looked over his shoulder towards the counter.
“You’re doing this to annoy me, aren’t you?” Ray glared, poking at his cake.
“Depends what you’re referring to.”
“Spending all my money. You never ate like this before.”
“Oh. Then, no,” he said, dabbing his mouth with a napkin.
“No, what?”
“You said I was doing this to annoy you. I replied that I did not know what you were referring to. You answered that I was spending all your money in my effort to annoy you. And I replied that, no. That is not the case,” Sam took another bite.
“Well...right. So...” Ray stuttered, confused.
“So why am I eating so much?” Sam looked down at his plate. “I want to put on weight before I go back to that hospital. The fact that it annoys you is an added bonus,” Sam grinned.
“If there’s a God, the Guv’ll walk through that door right this second.”
The small chime on the cafe door rang. Both men turned to watch as a young woman with a pram entered. Ray returned to his cake. He didn’t want to admit he was a bit disappointed. By the look on Sam’s face, neither did he.
“You want this?” Ray held up the first file. Sam, who was busy chewing, motioned for Ray to hand it over.
“Cheers,” he said after he swallowed, then he pushed his plate aside to make room for the folder. “What would really help,” he started, flipping open the cover, “what would really help is if we found the person that wrote that letter.”
“I have thought of that, Sherlock.”
“Sherlock? Does that make you Watson, then?” Sam asked without missing a beat.
“The Guv showed you the letter. He talked to you about it. Did he have any idea who sent it?”
Sam paused in his reading.
“Well?”
“I’m thinking.”
“Oh I forgot. That’s hard for you nowadays, innit?”
“It was right before you lot had me committed. Right before they began the electroshock. I’m sorry if my memory is less than it should be right now,” Sam snapped.
Ray reluctantly backed off, remembering the scene he had witnessed at Fox Hollow - Tyler strapped to the bed while the doctor placed those things on his head. A minute passed in silence, Tyler reading, Ray thinking.
“What’s it like?” he asked.
“Care to try it?” Sam sneered.
“Really. What does it feel like?” Ray shifted uncomfortably, displeased that he’d allowed his curiosity to get the better of him. “Is it like when you slip across the carpet in your stockings, then touch a doorknob, or is it...I don’t know. Never mind,” Ray shook his head. Another minute passed in silence, Ray reading, Tyler thinking.
“It affects your short-term memory,” Sam began quietly, staring at a spot on the table. “So I never remember what it feels like. One minute, I’ll be sitting in a chair, playing cards or reading. Then...it’s like I wake up, without ever having fallen asleep. I can’t think clearly. Every time I try to form a thought, it slips away before it’s finished. All I know is that I wasn’t where I was before, but I don’t know why, and I get confused. It wears off slowly and I realize I’m forgetting something I knew before, but I don’t know what. I spend all my time trying to remember and suddenly it’s tomorrow.”
Sam, whose eyes had become glassy, blinked rapidly and refocused his attention on the file. They passed another minute in silence, Ray thinking, Tyler thinking.
“Gene had no idea who wrote the letter,” Sam began. “He tried to track the writer down while he was in Manchester, but found nothing. At least, nothing he told me about.”
“When he told you he was leaving, did he say where he was going to start? If we could trace his footsteps...”
“I’d...they’d started the ECT that day. I...I was recovering, but still pretty out of it. The first time, it’s the worst. I remember he was shouting at me and I just...I just stared at him, trying to figure out how I knew him. He shook me by my shoulders. I drooled on his hand,” Sam’s voice cracked on the last word, and he quickly wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “I can’t remember the details. How can I be a detective if I can’t remember the details?” he asked himself, anger brewing beneath the surface.
“Well,” Ray cleared his throat. “Least you remember that much.”
“Soho!” Sam then blurted out. “He...when he called me, the first time. Or was it the second? He said he was following up a lead in Soho.”
“Remember owt else? Name of a pub? A girl?”
“No. No, he wouldn’t tell me. I don’t know why. But, I’d say the Guv was memorable, wouldn’t you? Maybe if we canvass the area, we’ll find someone who remembers him.”
“Remembers him and is willing to talk. That’s a bloody tall order.”
“It’s something.”
“Which is better than nowt, I suppose. Let’s go through these files, then head over.”
Sam nodded.
“Oh,” Tyler spoke again.
“What?” Ray asked. Sam pointed to the half-eaten cake.
“Are you going to finish that?”