Fic: Steady As She Goes (13/86)
Title: Steady As She Goes (13/86)
Author: dak
Word Count: 1788 this part; [21,946 overall]
Summary for Whole: After Chris is shot by accident at the station, Gene struggles to keep his team from tearing themselves apart as Ray takes out his anger on Sam, Annie makes a decision which jeopardizes Gene's career, and Sam gets involved with a murder.
Summary this Part: Sam's late for work.
Warnings: angst and swearing this part; more angst, violence, swearing, and violent imagery for whole
Spoilers: none this part; minor refs to 1.04, 1.08, 2.01, and 2.06 in others
Pairing: mild Sam/Annie
Disclaimer: Belongs to BBC/Kudos
A/N: Meant to post this yesterday, but livejournal seemed to be having trouble with a power outage or something. So, here it is now, without further technological delay!
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
"You ‘ave to give ‘im a break, Ray. Boss din’t know this was goin’ ta happen."
Chris flipped through the brand new copy of "Just Jugs" Ray had sneaked in for him while his parents were out. It was early Friday morning and Ray had another twenty minutes before he had to report to the station. He sat an angle to Chris so he could prop his feet up on the bed while he smoked. He had just finished a ten minute tirade on Sam Tyler’s similarities to poncey, arse-loving, unicorn fairies and just listening to him had drained Chris’ morning energy.
"So Annie really punched Litton’s bloke?" Chris silently pleaded that Ray would accept the change of subject.
"Yeah. She jus’ came outta nowhere an’ BAM! Sure as hell took the Guv by surprise." Ray finished his cigarette and Chris stared at the butt longingly.
"Hey Ray? Could yeh light another one? ‘S been three days since I had a fag an’ the doctor said I can’ smoke til I get outta hospital."
Ray stood up, getting ready to leave. "Sorry mate. I’ve got to get to the station. Two unsolved murders yeh know."
"Well, you wouldn’t ‘ave to smoke it. You could jus’ light it an’ set it on the table, like." Chris nodded to the metal hospital stand on his right.
"I only ‘ave half a pack left."
Chris tried his best to look pathetic, sulking and lowering his head. "But, I could die any moment."
"You’re not dying anymore, you div." Ray put on his jacket, but Chris continued to sulk. Ray sighed and pulled out his pack. "Alright, alright. Don’ be such a nonce." Ray lit a cigarette and set it on the table. "But this’s the las’ time you’re bummin’ one a mine."
"Cheers, Ray," Chris smiled as he inhaled the smokey scent. "Oh, an’ Ray? Could yeh go easy on the Boss? Just til I get back to work. I don’ want ta miss any good fights between you two."
Ray took a serious moment to think about it. "Jus’ til you’re back at work."
Chris smiled again and lay back, letting the drifting smoke fill his lungs as best it could as he fell asleep.
*
"Sir, I took the photo of our second victim to Cindy Garrett, Dom’s girlfriend, and she said it was definitely Harvey Quibell."
Gene sat at his desk glancing over the full autopsy report of the "Bin Man," as the boys were calling him, the man who was apparently Harvey Quibell. "That friend of Sanders he din’t want anyone to know about."
"Yes, sir." Annie shifted her feet. She and the Guv had come to an unspoken understanding about the Jackie Queen situation when at the Railway Arms the previous night he had plopped down a pint of bitter in front of her without a word, then went to play darts with Ray. However, she knew she still needed to continue proving her worthiness as a detective.
"So what do we know about this Quibble bloke?" Gene expected to hear nothing and was ready to send Annie on a fact-finding mission. Instead, she pulled out a notebook and flipped through the pages.
"Born and raised in the city. Mother, Gwen, died when he was young. Lived with his father, Fred, til about a month ago. Worked at the textile factory after he finished school, but his father thought he was doing something on the side. Something illegal. Kept coming and going at odd hours, missing his shift at the factory. He and his dad got in an argument about it. It’s why Harvey moved out." She looked up at Gene from her notebook, seeking his approval.
"And you know all this how?"
"Looked up his family in the public record, then went to see his dad. I-I didn’t tell him Harvey was dead. Just that he was in trouble."
Gene nodded. "Tyler an’ I will bring ‘im to see the body." Gene sipped his stale coffee. "He din’t say what sorta trouble he thought his son was in?"
Annie shook her head. "Said he became real private over the last few months. Mr. Quibell was very easy to talk to, Guv, really trusts coppers. I think he’d let us search his house, if we asked."
"Tyler’ll love a good, legal search, won’t he?" Gene finished his coffee. "Good work, Cartwright. You an’ Ray keep digging. See if yeh can’t find what was goin’ on ‘tween these two blokes."
Annie nodded and left the office, releasing a long, slow breath. Maybe she wouldn’t end up back in uniform after all.
Gene tossed his paper cup and lit a cigarette. He stared up at his wall clock, then looked through the blinds. The office was running smoothly again. Clive and Jeff had finished their burglary case and were now pitching in on the murders. Annie and Ray were busy at their desks, getting closer to answers with each passing minute. Someone kicked a football which barely missed Ray’s head. If he wasn’t in hospital, Gene would’ve sworn it was Chris.
In the midst of all the activity one desk was eerily still. Paperwork carefully organized, pens and pencils neatly aligned, a tape recorder respectfully perched on the bottom left corner, even the small wire bin had been emptied.
Gene looked back at the clock, then back to the empty desk. Nearly eleven and no sign of Tyler. All morning Gene had tried to convince himself the whiny lad was just resting at home. He did have two broken ribs after all, and those pain pills could really knock a bloke out. Gene had been prescribed the same ones when he had busted his hand in an unfortunate interrogation accident two years prior.
Yet as morning slowly turned to afternoon without any word from the picky pain, something in his gut told him this wasn’t a case of oversleeping. The Gene Genie always trusted his gut.
*
"Chris. Wake up."
"Ugh..."
"DC Skelton, open your mismatched eyes!"
Chris opened his eyes to see the Guv leaning over him. It was quite a terrifying experience to wake up to, and Chris hoped it would never happen again.
"What is it, Guv?" He tried to prop himself up on his elbows, but his stomach wasn’t feeling very forgiving at the moment. Chris gave up.
"Tyler been to see you?"
"Uhm, yesterday mornin’ when you both stopped by."
"But he hasn’t been here today?" Gene asked impatiently.
"No Guv. Jus’ Ray and me mum an’ dad." Chris didn’t like the way his Guv was starting to pace by his bedside. "What’s wrong, sir?"
Gene realized he was pacing and stopped. "Nothing. Don’ worry ‘bout it Chris. Jus’ get some rest." Gene pat him on the shoulder then moved briskly out of the ward.
Chris tried to close his eyes, tried to get the rest his body desperately needed, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the Guv. He was upset with DI Tyler, that wasn’t shocking, but he didn’t seem angry at him. The Guv had looked nervous and that worried Chris. The Guv was never nervous. He wouldn’t be getting any sleep now.
*
Ray and Annie had managed to track down more information on Dom Sanders and Harvey Quibell. They had indeed gone to school together and had been very close. Best mates according to the few teachers who remembered them. Yet no one could believe they’d be involved in something illegal. They didn’t come from rich families, certainly, but they had always seemed relatively content with their lot in life.
What they needed to do was search Harvey’s room at his father’s house. Harvey had left in such an angry hurry that he had barely taken anything with him, and Fred hadn’t touched the room since.
The Guv plowed through A-Divison’s doors and Ray and Annie were about to ask him again about searching the Quibell home, but stopped dead when they saw the fury in his eyes and the jacket in his hands.
Gene threw the black leather jacket in front of them on a nearby desk. It was covered in dirty footprints, and there was a tear in the back of the collar, like it had been ripped off a coat rack.
"Tyler’s gone."
*
Beep. Beep. He was stable, Dr. Matthews, then his vitals suddenly dropped again. Beep. Beep. Even with this level of brain activity, it seems his body might be shutting down. Beep. Beep. Doctor, what should we do? Beep. Beep.
"Wha’ should we do with ‘im?" A deep voice whispered.
"We need to fin’ out what ‘e knows," said a second, higher voice.
"I din’t know ‘e was a copper. Woulda finished ‘im off then, I swear!" A third, low voice mumbled.
Sam couldn’t move. He couldn’t see either, and it took him a few seconds to realize this was because he was blindfolded. Silently, he tried to assess any new injuries his three, faceless captors could have given him, but the pill he had taken earlier was dulling any fresh pain he might otherwise be experiencing. For the first time he felt grateful towards the pompous doctor who had prescribed them.
"Maybe, maybe we could bribe ‘im. Lots a bent coppers ‘round ‘ere," said Deep Voice.
Sam heard a slap that wasn’t directed towards him. He could only assume it was for Deep Voice.
"You a total nutter?" screamed High Voice. "You can’ bribe a copper after yeh kidnap ‘im!"
"Kill ‘im. We should jus’-jus’ kill ‘im, an’-an’ get rid of ‘im," blurted Low Voice frantically.
The rashness and incoherence in Low’s voice worried Sam more than the ropes which were constricting his movements.
"Not yet! ‘E’s a copper, yeah? Then ‘e can tell us what they know ‘bout Harv an’ Dom! How close they are to findin’ us," High Voice declared, a little too eagerly for Sam’s liking.
"Lot closer now ‘e’s ‘ere I bet," murmured Deep Voice.
Sam heard footsteps approaching and the voices got louder.
"Pick ‘im up an’ put ‘im there," High Voice ordered. "Then wake ‘im." Sam felt the man’s breath on his skin. "Time to see what ‘e knows."
Sam felt two pairs of rough hands grab him, hoist him up, and throw him in a wobbly, wooden chair. Even medicated, his ribs couldn’t ignore that much pain and he let out a small, involuntary moan.
"Looks like ‘e’s awake," High Voice noted smugly. Sam’s blindfold was torn off and he squinted at the bright lights.
It was certainly turning out to be the worst week he had ever experienced, either in 2006 or 1973, Sam decided as he gritted his teeth and prepared himself for a friendly, little chat.
_______
Part 14