Fic: Regard 19, MasterPages, Green
Title: Regard chapter 19: The Accomplice
Rating: Green Cortina (Gene's colorful language)
Word count: 2,062
Notes: Not sure how good 1973 ballistics was, but I'm guessing that Gene rarely paid attention to such details before. I know I had Gene thinking of Sam as "Sam" in previous chapters, but his thinking of him as "Tyler" again is a sign of his attempts to distance himself in light of their angsty scene in chapter 17. ;) Also, I tried to see what "dating in the workplace" policies CID might have had in the 70's, and it seemed like it could vary depending on who was in charge. If you have some solid info on this, I'd be interested in seeing it. :)
Summary: Sam and Gene reexamine the scene. (Yup, I rhymed.)
Previous chapters First chapter
Gene was waiting for Tyler when he arrived. He had spoken to the couple who lived in number four, the Newtons, about reexamining the crime scene; other than that, he had waited for his DI.
“Morning,” Tyler said stiffly as he entered the house.
He looked all right, as if he had gotten a fair bit of sleep, and he seemed clean and groomed… but in the same clothes as yesterday. Maybe he had lazily selected the same outfit with the reasoning that Gene was the only one who had seen him in it, so it didn’t matter. Especially won’t matter if we pretend yesterday never happened.
“I’ve been going over the facts,” Gene said, holding up the notebook where he had written the key information for future reference.
“I’ve come up with one odd thing about this case that you haven’t mentioned yet, Einstein.”
“Yeah?” Tyler said, coming to put one knee up on the arm of the couch where Gene was sitting. “What’s that?”
“The bag. When your hobos first spotted the burglar, they said he had a bag. Well, plods have searched the house, the garden, the surrounding area, and no one’s found this bag, so what happened to it?”
“That’s right. I remember that.”
“So, we’ve got a missing bag, a locked door and an extra bullet. Where’s that get us?”
Tyler went back to the middle of the room and looked around. “Are the residents here?”
“Mister Newton left before you arrived, but Missus is here.” Gene called toward the stairs, “Missus Newton, would you mind coming down for a moment?”
The middle-aged woman came down and looked questioningly at them.
“Hello, Missus Newton,” Tyler said, ever polite. “I’m DI Sam Tyler. I’m sorry to bother you about this again, but can you tell me everything out of place after the break-in? Any little thing might be helpful.”
“Well, he left the window open in the spare room upstairs,” she said thoughtfully. “Still can’t believe he got in that way. Other than that there were nothin’ upstairs out of place. But down ‘ere there were a music box missing off the mantle. Also, there were some things knocked off the table in the kitchen-a hat and gloves Stan had left on the edge. And the kitchen window were open a little. That window always sticks… you can’t get it open more than six inches. That’s all I remember out of place.”
Tyler smiled at her. “Thank you. That’s a big help.”
“Glad to ‘elp. We’ve never ‘ad this sort of trouble before. I ‘ope you settle it for good an’ all.”
She went back upstairs and Tyler moved to the front door.
“OK. Let’s recreate the crime. The homeless spot the burglar carrying a bag. They follow him to this address and he goes in the upstairs window. He takes his time creeping downstairs, careful not to wake the Newtons.” Tyler crossed to the fireplace. “He takes the music box here and puts it in his bag. By this time I’m round the back sending Bobby away. Then you knock on the front door.”
Gene got up and went to stand by the door. Might as well humor him; it would go faster.
“The burglar panics; runs toward the back door…” Tyler led the way to the hall and down past the kitchen. “For some reason he doesn’t go straight out.”
“I got inside right after I saw him,” Gene supplied. “Maybe he couldn’t get the bolts back quick enough. There’s a stiff thumb-turn as well as a bar bolt there.”
“Riding on that assumption for now…” Tyler stepped into the kitchen. “He couldn’t get the back door open, so he turned off into the kitchen, knocking the hat and gloves off the table in his haste…” he brushed his hand over the table’s surface as he walked past it. “…went to the window where he saw me about to happen onto his accomplice. He tries to open the window, but it sticks, so he puts his hand out…” He lifted the window as far as he could and then put his right hand through.
“Poor angle if you’re right-handed.”
“Yes. Yes, the angle. That’s good, Gov.”
“It is?”
“It’ll let us test our theory. Let’s see if Missus Newton has a ball of string we could borrow.”
Next thing Gene knew, they were standing out in the damp air, Tyler examining the hole in the next house down.
“Forensics really did a job getting the bullet out of the wall, but you can still see the path that it took. Here, I’ll hold the end and you take the spool back toward number four.”
Gene raised an eyebrow at him. “Are we getting ready to fly a kite, then?”
“It’s called ballistics, Gov. We’re extending a line from this hole at the same angle at which the bullet entered it so we can track its trajectory.”
Gene was pretty sure he knew what Tyler was saying, but he didn't like his pompous attitude. “In English, Gladys.”
“We’re working out where the bullet came from.”
“Why didn’t you say so?” Gene walked back toward the house, paying out the string as he went. “All right, I’m at the house.”
Tyler kept looking at the hole in the wall, rather than at him. “You facing me?”
“You might just look.”
“You might just tell me. But it sounds like you are.”
“Yes, I am, you poof.”
“Can you move a bit to the right?”
“Not unless I can walk through the wall.”
“Then come toward me a couple of steps and then move right.”
Patience waning, Gene did as he was told.
“Now, can you hold it higher?” Tyler asked, still looking at the hole.
Gene held the spool of string at head height. “How’s this?”
“Higher.”
He held it as high as he could reach. “This?”
“Just a bit lower.”
“THIS?”
Tyler continued to hold his end of the string against the wall of number three as his gaze went up the length of it to Gene’s hand. “Perfect. Look at that.”
Gene looked up at the house and saw that his hand was right next to the open kitchen window. “Well, blow me down.”
Tyler put his free hand over his nose and mouth, looking a little… grief-stricken. Maybe sick. “Keaton never shot at me,” he said almost too quietly for Gene to hear.
Gene yanked the string out of Tyler’s hand and began recoiling it around the spool. “Well, he was going to, so don’t start fretting all over again. Question is, who the ‘ell is his accomplice and where did they go?”
Tyler hurried back through the back door and Gene followed. “He probably ducked behind the table until you and Mickey went by. Then he took his chance and went out the front. With everyone standing by to hear more orders, he could have got someplace out of sight without anyone spotting him.”
“And he took the bag with him.”
“Right.”
“I still don’t see how this can be a two-man operation, though… Keaton didn’t tend to take enough to satisfy two accomplished burglars. Pretty small stuff, really. He was good, and he was patient, and that’s how he kept us from noticing him for so long.”
Tyler rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I dunno… I think this is a psychology question-why two people would be willing to divide such small spoils. We should ask Annie.”
“Can’t figure this out without your girlfriend?”
“She’s a good detective in her own right,” Tyler said, bristling.
“That may be so, but she doesn’t exactly help you concentrate, does she? I’ve seen you stare at her; seen you snogging when you think no one’s looking-and sometimes when you know they are!”
Tyler walked away. Just turned around and went out the front door.
The ponce. Gene hurried after him. “You’ll have to face reality sooner or later,” he said.
Tyler leaned on the Cortina and looked back at him defiantly. “I love her,” he said, as if it were supposed to shock Gene. “I think I’m going to marry her.”
“Well, you think wrong.”
“What?”
“You can’t marry her.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’d be a big mistake, that’s why not. By all means, live together in sin, but don’t get married.”
Tyler looked murderous now. “What do you know about it? Speaking from bad experience?”
“It’s simple. You’re both police. You’re both in A Division. Our superintendant Mister Rathbone has a policy against romantic couples working together in his department.”
“And why haven’t you mentioned this before?”
“Because you haven’t mentioned marriage before, you sod.”
Tyler’s defiance ebbed into uncertainty as his stormy eyebrows drifted upwards to look more like cirrus clouds.
“Once you get married, it’s on paper,” Gene continued. “There’s hard evidence. Even I couldn’t turn a blind eye, then.”
“Why have you up ‘til now?”
Gene went to Tyler’s side. “Aside from not being a rat… me, Chris and Ray have got a pool going.”
“Oh, why am I not surprised?” Tyler groaned, putting his head down against the roof of the Cortina.
“Ray thinks you’ll shag another bloke first, I think you’ll shag Annie first, Chris thinks you’ll get married first. Well, you can get married if you like, but not to Annie. And preferably not before you’ve shagged Annie, if I’m gonna win the pool.”
Tyler lifted his head and let it drop with a quiet tap. “Well, if we did get married, it wouldn’t be the end of the world, would it? So, one of us might have to change divisions…”
Gene gripped Tyler’s shoulder heavily. “Think about what you’re sayin’ here. I’ll not have you changing divisions-not after I’ve invested so much time and personal training in you.”
Tyler rolled his eyes.
“For all the good it’s done,” Gene added. “And do you really want Cartwright to have to go to another division where she won’t be taken seriously and she’ll not have you there to look after her? She wouldn’t last a week.”
His words were sinking in. Tyler was looking around now, as if a solution would run up and jump into his arms. He shook his head and opened the door of the Cortina. “We’ll sort it some way. Come on.”
Annie was glad to hear Tyler’s psychology question. “What makes people willing to share when they might do better on their own?” she said.
“Blackmail?” Gene suggested. “Family?”
Tyler was looking at Annie with a soppy expression, but it suddenly turned to enlightenment. “Marriage.”
Gene and Annie stared at him.
“They were putting money by for their old age. What if Missus Keaton knew what her husband was up to all along? What if she were his accomplice?”
“A girl cat burglar?” Gene scoffed. “Someone’s been watching too many films.”
“Why not? The way she gave us those figurines… it was a little too quick and neat. Like she’d rehearsed it. She told us she’d told her kids their dad left early… why was she so quick to lie to them if she didn’t know where he really was? And the bank account-she told us it was a tenth of the real balance. Practically an exact tenth; she should have planned that one more carefully.”
“But… the second-floor window!”
“She’s fit. I bet she can manage it. Could be like a gymnast under her ruffles. Feminine clothing can hide a lot, Gov.”
“I don’t need some fairy-arsed virgin to tell me that,” Gene retorted.
Annie raised her eyebrows but said nothing.
“So, how do we prove it? We already searched the house.”
“We search it again,” Tyler said confidently. “We didn’t try hard before because we thought Keaton had gotten rid of most of his loot already, and that he had the rest of the evidence on him. We weren’t looking for a gun or a mask or gloves or a bag when we searched it before. Let’s get a team back over there.”
“We’ll need a warrant this time, I suppose. Oh, you’d better be right about this,” Gene grumbled. “If we tear that house apart for nothin’, you’re going to be the one to extend Missus Keaton your own personal apology on behalf of CID.”
“You instill such a sense of support and teamwork,” Tyler said with mock sincerity.
Chapter 20
Rating: Green Cortina (Gene's colorful language)
Word count: 2,062
Notes: Not sure how good 1973 ballistics was, but I'm guessing that Gene rarely paid attention to such details before. I know I had Gene thinking of Sam as "Sam" in previous chapters, but his thinking of him as "Tyler" again is a sign of his attempts to distance himself in light of their angsty scene in chapter 17. ;) Also, I tried to see what "dating in the workplace" policies CID might have had in the 70's, and it seemed like it could vary depending on who was in charge. If you have some solid info on this, I'd be interested in seeing it. :)
Summary: Sam and Gene reexamine the scene. (Yup, I rhymed.)
Previous chapters First chapter
Gene was waiting for Tyler when he arrived. He had spoken to the couple who lived in number four, the Newtons, about reexamining the crime scene; other than that, he had waited for his DI.
“Morning,” Tyler said stiffly as he entered the house.
He looked all right, as if he had gotten a fair bit of sleep, and he seemed clean and groomed… but in the same clothes as yesterday. Maybe he had lazily selected the same outfit with the reasoning that Gene was the only one who had seen him in it, so it didn’t matter. Especially won’t matter if we pretend yesterday never happened.
“I’ve been going over the facts,” Gene said, holding up the notebook where he had written the key information for future reference.
“I’ve come up with one odd thing about this case that you haven’t mentioned yet, Einstein.”
“Yeah?” Tyler said, coming to put one knee up on the arm of the couch where Gene was sitting. “What’s that?”
“The bag. When your hobos first spotted the burglar, they said he had a bag. Well, plods have searched the house, the garden, the surrounding area, and no one’s found this bag, so what happened to it?”
“That’s right. I remember that.”
“So, we’ve got a missing bag, a locked door and an extra bullet. Where’s that get us?”
Tyler went back to the middle of the room and looked around. “Are the residents here?”
“Mister Newton left before you arrived, but Missus is here.” Gene called toward the stairs, “Missus Newton, would you mind coming down for a moment?”
The middle-aged woman came down and looked questioningly at them.
“Hello, Missus Newton,” Tyler said, ever polite. “I’m DI Sam Tyler. I’m sorry to bother you about this again, but can you tell me everything out of place after the break-in? Any little thing might be helpful.”
“Well, he left the window open in the spare room upstairs,” she said thoughtfully. “Still can’t believe he got in that way. Other than that there were nothin’ upstairs out of place. But down ‘ere there were a music box missing off the mantle. Also, there were some things knocked off the table in the kitchen-a hat and gloves Stan had left on the edge. And the kitchen window were open a little. That window always sticks… you can’t get it open more than six inches. That’s all I remember out of place.”
Tyler smiled at her. “Thank you. That’s a big help.”
“Glad to ‘elp. We’ve never ‘ad this sort of trouble before. I ‘ope you settle it for good an’ all.”
She went back upstairs and Tyler moved to the front door.
“OK. Let’s recreate the crime. The homeless spot the burglar carrying a bag. They follow him to this address and he goes in the upstairs window. He takes his time creeping downstairs, careful not to wake the Newtons.” Tyler crossed to the fireplace. “He takes the music box here and puts it in his bag. By this time I’m round the back sending Bobby away. Then you knock on the front door.”
Gene got up and went to stand by the door. Might as well humor him; it would go faster.
“The burglar panics; runs toward the back door…” Tyler led the way to the hall and down past the kitchen. “For some reason he doesn’t go straight out.”
“I got inside right after I saw him,” Gene supplied. “Maybe he couldn’t get the bolts back quick enough. There’s a stiff thumb-turn as well as a bar bolt there.”
“Riding on that assumption for now…” Tyler stepped into the kitchen. “He couldn’t get the back door open, so he turned off into the kitchen, knocking the hat and gloves off the table in his haste…” he brushed his hand over the table’s surface as he walked past it. “…went to the window where he saw me about to happen onto his accomplice. He tries to open the window, but it sticks, so he puts his hand out…” He lifted the window as far as he could and then put his right hand through.
“Poor angle if you’re right-handed.”
“Yes. Yes, the angle. That’s good, Gov.”
“It is?”
“It’ll let us test our theory. Let’s see if Missus Newton has a ball of string we could borrow.”
Next thing Gene knew, they were standing out in the damp air, Tyler examining the hole in the next house down.
“Forensics really did a job getting the bullet out of the wall, but you can still see the path that it took. Here, I’ll hold the end and you take the spool back toward number four.”
Gene raised an eyebrow at him. “Are we getting ready to fly a kite, then?”
“It’s called ballistics, Gov. We’re extending a line from this hole at the same angle at which the bullet entered it so we can track its trajectory.”
Gene was pretty sure he knew what Tyler was saying, but he didn't like his pompous attitude. “In English, Gladys.”
“We’re working out where the bullet came from.”
“Why didn’t you say so?” Gene walked back toward the house, paying out the string as he went. “All right, I’m at the house.”
Tyler kept looking at the hole in the wall, rather than at him. “You facing me?”
“You might just look.”
“You might just tell me. But it sounds like you are.”
“Yes, I am, you poof.”
“Can you move a bit to the right?”
“Not unless I can walk through the wall.”
“Then come toward me a couple of steps and then move right.”
Patience waning, Gene did as he was told.
“Now, can you hold it higher?” Tyler asked, still looking at the hole.
Gene held the spool of string at head height. “How’s this?”
“Higher.”
He held it as high as he could reach. “This?”
“Just a bit lower.”
“THIS?”
Tyler continued to hold his end of the string against the wall of number three as his gaze went up the length of it to Gene’s hand. “Perfect. Look at that.”
Gene looked up at the house and saw that his hand was right next to the open kitchen window. “Well, blow me down.”
Tyler put his free hand over his nose and mouth, looking a little… grief-stricken. Maybe sick. “Keaton never shot at me,” he said almost too quietly for Gene to hear.
Gene yanked the string out of Tyler’s hand and began recoiling it around the spool. “Well, he was going to, so don’t start fretting all over again. Question is, who the ‘ell is his accomplice and where did they go?”
Tyler hurried back through the back door and Gene followed. “He probably ducked behind the table until you and Mickey went by. Then he took his chance and went out the front. With everyone standing by to hear more orders, he could have got someplace out of sight without anyone spotting him.”
“And he took the bag with him.”
“Right.”
“I still don’t see how this can be a two-man operation, though… Keaton didn’t tend to take enough to satisfy two accomplished burglars. Pretty small stuff, really. He was good, and he was patient, and that’s how he kept us from noticing him for so long.”
Tyler rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I dunno… I think this is a psychology question-why two people would be willing to divide such small spoils. We should ask Annie.”
“Can’t figure this out without your girlfriend?”
“She’s a good detective in her own right,” Tyler said, bristling.
“That may be so, but she doesn’t exactly help you concentrate, does she? I’ve seen you stare at her; seen you snogging when you think no one’s looking-and sometimes when you know they are!”
Tyler walked away. Just turned around and went out the front door.
The ponce. Gene hurried after him. “You’ll have to face reality sooner or later,” he said.
Tyler leaned on the Cortina and looked back at him defiantly. “I love her,” he said, as if it were supposed to shock Gene. “I think I’m going to marry her.”
“Well, you think wrong.”
“What?”
“You can’t marry her.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’d be a big mistake, that’s why not. By all means, live together in sin, but don’t get married.”
Tyler looked murderous now. “What do you know about it? Speaking from bad experience?”
“It’s simple. You’re both police. You’re both in A Division. Our superintendant Mister Rathbone has a policy against romantic couples working together in his department.”
“And why haven’t you mentioned this before?”
“Because you haven’t mentioned marriage before, you sod.”
Tyler’s defiance ebbed into uncertainty as his stormy eyebrows drifted upwards to look more like cirrus clouds.
“Once you get married, it’s on paper,” Gene continued. “There’s hard evidence. Even I couldn’t turn a blind eye, then.”
“Why have you up ‘til now?”
Gene went to Tyler’s side. “Aside from not being a rat… me, Chris and Ray have got a pool going.”
“Oh, why am I not surprised?” Tyler groaned, putting his head down against the roof of the Cortina.
“Ray thinks you’ll shag another bloke first, I think you’ll shag Annie first, Chris thinks you’ll get married first. Well, you can get married if you like, but not to Annie. And preferably not before you’ve shagged Annie, if I’m gonna win the pool.”
Tyler lifted his head and let it drop with a quiet tap. “Well, if we did get married, it wouldn’t be the end of the world, would it? So, one of us might have to change divisions…”
Gene gripped Tyler’s shoulder heavily. “Think about what you’re sayin’ here. I’ll not have you changing divisions-not after I’ve invested so much time and personal training in you.”
Tyler rolled his eyes.
“For all the good it’s done,” Gene added. “And do you really want Cartwright to have to go to another division where she won’t be taken seriously and she’ll not have you there to look after her? She wouldn’t last a week.”
His words were sinking in. Tyler was looking around now, as if a solution would run up and jump into his arms. He shook his head and opened the door of the Cortina. “We’ll sort it some way. Come on.”
Annie was glad to hear Tyler’s psychology question. “What makes people willing to share when they might do better on their own?” she said.
“Blackmail?” Gene suggested. “Family?”
Tyler was looking at Annie with a soppy expression, but it suddenly turned to enlightenment. “Marriage.”
Gene and Annie stared at him.
“They were putting money by for their old age. What if Missus Keaton knew what her husband was up to all along? What if she were his accomplice?”
“A girl cat burglar?” Gene scoffed. “Someone’s been watching too many films.”
“Why not? The way she gave us those figurines… it was a little too quick and neat. Like she’d rehearsed it. She told us she’d told her kids their dad left early… why was she so quick to lie to them if she didn’t know where he really was? And the bank account-she told us it was a tenth of the real balance. Practically an exact tenth; she should have planned that one more carefully.”
“But… the second-floor window!”
“She’s fit. I bet she can manage it. Could be like a gymnast under her ruffles. Feminine clothing can hide a lot, Gov.”
“I don’t need some fairy-arsed virgin to tell me that,” Gene retorted.
Annie raised her eyebrows but said nothing.
“So, how do we prove it? We already searched the house.”
“We search it again,” Tyler said confidently. “We didn’t try hard before because we thought Keaton had gotten rid of most of his loot already, and that he had the rest of the evidence on him. We weren’t looking for a gun or a mask or gloves or a bag when we searched it before. Let’s get a team back over there.”
“We’ll need a warrant this time, I suppose. Oh, you’d better be right about this,” Gene grumbled. “If we tear that house apart for nothin’, you’re going to be the one to extend Missus Keaton your own personal apology on behalf of CID.”
“You instill such a sense of support and teamwork,” Tyler said with mock sincerity.
Chapter 20