Fic: Steady As She Goes (7/86)
Title: Steady As She Goes (7/86)
Author: dak
Word Count: 1751
Rating: Blue Cortina
Warning: mild swearing
Pairing: very mild Sam/Annie, no more than canon
Summary: Gene and Sam try to find a murderer.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: I'd like to apologize for the overtly American usage of the word "elevator" instead of "lift" in the last chapter. I've lived in the UK, I should know better, I really should, but that one just slipped my mind. Sorry. And on with the story...
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 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52 Part 53 Part 54 Part 55 Part 56 Part 57 Part 58 Part 59 Part 60 Part 61 Part 62 Part 63 Part 64 Part 65 Part 66 Part 67 Part 68 Part 69 Part 70 Part 71 Part 72 Part 73 Part 74 Part 75 Part 76 Part 77 Part 78 Part 79 Part 80 Part 81 Part 82 Part 83 Part 84 Part 85 Part 86
“Sam? Ray’s back and the Guv wants a meeting in his office.”
“Thanks Annie. I’ll be right out.” Sam called through the stall door. As Annie quickly removed herself from the men’s toilets, Sam dry heaved one more time over the bowl, flushed, and staggered out of the stall. It was his third trip to the toilets since he’d been let out of the cell earlier that morning and it was only ten o’clock.
Sam quickly washed out his mouth at the sink. He was hoping Gene hadn’t noticed each time he’d left the office. He had already destroyed half his credibility with the station yesterday because of his little escapade, and he was determined not to let the Guv, or Chris, down. Even if they weren’t real.
When Sam hadn’t been vomiting, he had spent his time pouring over the preliminary case files from Dom Sanders’ murder, the off license clerk, a murder of which he was still a suspect. The Guv had wanted to take him to the crime scene and the off license, see what they could find, but had wanted to wait until Ray arrived. If Sam didn’t hate the man so much right now he would’ve kissed him for showing up late. The though of riding around with Gene at eight in the morning, a half hour into the worst hangover of his life, is what had sent Sam running to a toilet the first time.
When he walked back into CID, Gene was already laying into Ray from the privacy of his office. So naturally, everyone could hear.
“Did I, or did I not tell you to be here at eight sharp!”
Sam limped to Gene’s office, left hand rubbing his sore ribs as he approached the door. All the other detectives paused in their paperwork to whisper about Sam as he walked past. Phyllis, no doubt, had wasted little time spreading the good news about Sam’s night in the cells. Well, whispering was fine, Sam figured. He was used to whispering. At least it was quiet.
He pushed open Gene’s door, hoping to silently slip inside.
“You’re on thin ice already, Carling, so I expect you to mind your manners more than the Queen’s bloody butler from now on, and if you slip off to chuck up your guts one more time, Tyler, I might as well send your useless arse home right now! You’re already banned from the Arms for a week and from consuming any alcohol for two! Cartwright, don’t do anything to piss me off today.” Gene chugged a cup of coffee.
“Yes Guv,” Annie replied, her insides churning as she thought what his reaction would be to her meeting with Jackie Queen.
After sitting at his desk Gene lit a cigarette. Ray did the same, Annie waited patiently for the meeting to really begin, and Sam tried not to vomit.
“How did Skelton look?” Gene asked as he started flipping through a file.
“Jus’...dead, like Guv. ‘E’s got a tube down ‘is throat, machine breathin’ for ‘im, really pale, things in ‘is arms...I wanted to get ‘ere on time but, I jus’... couldn’t leave ‘im.”
Sam tried not to think that it was him who had caused Chris to be in so much pain.
“Did you find his parents?” Gene asked Ray but glanced at Sam, noticing a pained expression that had nothing to do with bruises or hangovers.
“Called ‘em ‘bout two hours ago. Spoke to ‘is dad. They’re on their way from Blackpool now. Goin’ right over to see ‘im.”
“I want you to be there when they get there. Try to explain what happened. How the accident happened.”
“Yes Guv.”
Gene cleared his throat and took another sip of coffee. “Right. I’ve handed the jeweler’s case to Jeff an’ Clive. We’re goin’ to focus on this murder. Cartwright, you’re good with women. I want you to go interview the lad’s mum an’ bird,” he handed Annie a paper. “Try an’ find out his habits. The path he took to work, home. Whatever might be useful. Carling, find out his mates. Did he have any enemies, was he skimming from the till. I want to know every dark corner that boy put his toe in. Tyler an’ I are goin’ to review the crime scene. Five o’clock I want us all at the hospital. Make sure our boy’s bein’ taken care of.”
Gene leaned back in his chair, a silent signal to his officers that they were dismissed. Ray was the first one gone, Annie not far behind. Sam knew he was unlucky enough to have to stay. He waited in sulky silence for Gene to finish his coffee and grab his coat.
He slipped it on, standing close to Sam. “Chris weren’t your fault.” He grabbed two fresh bacon butties from his desk and shoved one in Sam’s hands. “Now ingest something that involves chewing.”
*
Right, left, left, right, accelerate, decelerate. Sam could feel the butty swimming in the Lucozade that filled his stomach, bobbing up and down, back and forth, synchronized with Gene’s driving. He hadn’t wanted to eat it, but if he’d refused it would’ve just been one more reason for Gene to be pissed at him. Luckily, Annie had slipped him a smile and a fresh Lucozade bottle before he left the station. He really needed to talk to Annie, to apologize, maybe take her to a flick...
“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. We’re ‘ere.”
Sam hadn’t even realized he was drifting off. He rubbed his eyes and followed Gene out of the car, a little too quickly. He swallowed back the butty.
Avoiding alcohol for two weeks wouldn’t be a problem. Sam walked with Gene to the embankment.
“This’s where we found ‘im. Look familiar?”
“Sam looked around. “No.”
“Good.”
“There are a million ways that paper could’ve gotten here.”
“An’ the obvious one is you, so I suggest we find some more of that evidence you’re so fond of.”
Sam crawled down the embankment trying not to disturb anything. “Forensics was here?”
“Last night. Din’t find anything though.”
“There isn’t much sign of a struggle here. He was strangled, wasn’t he?”
“Bare hands, ‘ccording to Oswald.”
“If you were going to strangle someone, it wouldn’t be on an incline like this. It would be hard to keep your balance, especially with your hands around his neck. You’d be moving around a lot, keep yourself from falling in, but there aren’t any footprints here. Any sign of a struggle.”
Sam climbed back up next to Gene.
“Body dump.”
“Probably. He could’ve been killed right here,” Sam pointed at where his own feet stood, “or cross town and brought here. We need to determine the primary crime scene.”
“Home address is that way,” Gene pointed. “Let’s assume he was on his way from work.”
“Start at the off license and work our way forward?”
Gene headed back to the Cortina. “Jus’ remember what I said about drinking.”
Sam followed. “I’ll be dryer than the Moroccan desert, Guv.”
They hopped in the car.
“You need to work on your metaphors.”
“What, because I should’ve included something about women’s panties?”
“If you talked more often about women’s panties, Tyler, I’d be more inclined to listen to the shit that comes outta your mouth.”
*
Ray stood smoking in the corner while the Skelton’s cried over their son. He had tried to explain about the accident, how it was all just coincidence that Chris happened to be downstairs the same time as the gunman. Ray had trouble saying what he didn’t believe. He wasn’t sure they had been listening anyway, their eyes glued to the corspe-like body of their only child. Ray couldn’t bear to watch their grief much longer and turned to leave, which is when he saw Litton and his DI walking, no strutting Ray thought, towards Chris and his parents.
Ray stopped in their way, blocking the path to Chris’ bed. “What you doin’ ‘ere?”
Litton straightened up his weasely back and attempted to look intimidating. “I am in the course of my investigation, Detective Sergeant, and need to interview the victim.”
Ray refused to move. “The victim isn’t awake an’ his parents are with ‘im right now, so I suggest you bugger off back to the hole you came from and finish this investigation elsewhere.”
“DC Skelton isn’t the only reason I’m here. I also need to interview anyone who was present when the incident occurred, which would include you DS Carling.”
Ray put his hand on Litton’s chest. “You want to interview me, you can do it at the station. Out back. Where no one’d see us.”
“Are you threatening a superior officer?”
“Why don’ you stay a little longer an’ find out.”
Litton noticed the nurses and doctors staring at them. They didn’t seem to bother Ray, but Ray knew how Litton felt about his public opinion. Sure enough, Litton backed down and he and his DI stalked off. Ray made sure to watch them as they left.
*
“Well that was useless,” Gene grumbled as he lit a fag.
He and Sam had walked from the off license to the dump site three times, three different routes, but had come up with nothing so much as a dented rubbish bin.
“Maybe Annie and Ray will have come up with something,” Sam sighed hopefully as he leaned back against a wall. All the walking had made him incredibly light-headed, and oddly enough a little euphoric.
They started to walk back to the off license where the Cortina was parked. When they were close they heard shouts, looked at each other, and jogged to the store. The elderly owner they met earlier was trying to push a strong, young man from the store. They were screaming at each other, but Sam couldn’t figure out what. He fished his warrant card out of his pocket and waved it at the young man.
“Police!” Sam shouted. The young man saw Sam and took off down the street.
“Why do they always run,” Gene smiled.
Sam ran after the man at full speed, not caring that his chest felt like it was being ripped apart, nor that his legs felt like they were made of rubber, nor that the pain in his head was screaming at him to stop. He wouldn’t let the Guv down again.
So he didn’t care about the pain, ignored it. Ignored it until he blacked out and fell to the pavement.
_______
Part 8