| Call Me Daddy
© Xeen PART 14 “Well Havers, I’m lost for words. I had no idea that you were working behind my back!” That’s aftershock talking, she thought. “I’ve never done anything behind your back and I would not even think of it… sir,” she said, back to their old routine, “contrary to you.” “What do you mean exactly?” “That’s something I’d rather discuss when Jack is not with us sir.” To Buchanan’s surprise, Lynley’s ordinary pale skin took a decisive shade of red. “You know perfectly well that I cannot let you work on this case.” “You know I’m a good copper and that it would be stupid to refuse my help! You’re stuck anyway so why not work together then?” “You’ve not been given clearance yet,” he trailed. “Just as you hadn’t when I let you handle the murder of Edie Covington with me in Kent. Remember? You had not been reinstated yet at the time and you didn’t seem to mind moonlighting on me as I recall…” “I see that you’re dealing quite well with your memory loss Havers.” “I manage.” A long silence ensued. Lynley was obviously considering his options. Unintentionally, he was openly looking her over. And his stare was far more that appreciative, pondered Jack with a grin. Following his friendly advice, she was sporting a new hairdo and had enhanced her natural red hair with some discreet highlights. She had shed some weight thanks to Jack. After a few weeks in her small flat, he had bought an exercise bike to save himself the trip to the gym; though she was reluctant to use it at first, considering it was way too hip for her common taste, she finally decided that it was a good compromise: she was using it profusely, learning French with her ‘Be Fluent in Less than 15 Minutes a Day’ method at the same time and bragged about her witty multitasking every time she had the chance to. For the first time in her life she was planning to spend a great holiday out of Acton and away from work. Next summer she was to go back to the Continent -- alone. In the aftermath of her kidnapping, contemplating that life was indeed too short she had made up her mind to work on her self-esteem problem for good. She had screened out her closets and picked up what was salvable with Jack’s help -- he was man after all - and not only discarded the rest but really threw it away, and that meant that she was not keeping a heap of t-shirts and pants for possible alternate use, such as polishing her shoes or painting the kitchen. No, it was a ‘directly out to the garbage’ selection. Should she have kept any of her old clothes, she knew that she’d have ended wearing them eventually. She would not take the chance to raid her trash bag next time she was feeling blue. She kept her beloved parka and added a few extra baggy training clothes in the mix, went shopping for suitable replacement in second-hand designer clothes shops with two female colleagues from the Met… et voilà. She was presently wearing a very chic cashmere-like green ensemble with matching plaid slacks, a pearl necklace, a small golden bracelet she had purchased at H&M’s and black glitter ballerina flats with gold buckle across front. She obviously had been practising her skills at using make up and she was really looking fantastic. Their eyes finally met but he remained silent. From the black leather tote she had placed on their table she extracted a small mirror and made a show at checking her face. “Got something in your eye?” said Jack. “No, just thought something was wrong with my make-up,” she said chewing on her lower lip. “You look lovely.” Lynley looked daggers at him and turned his attention back to Havers. “Yes you are, indeed, Barbara.” “Really? So would you be a doll Tommy? Stop being rude and staring at me and please let me help you with the case?” “OK,” he surrendered. “But I don’t want you to tread all over the place. Be discreet. Don’t interfere. Do we have an agreement?” “You know me sir,” she said, “always the aloof counterpart…” -o- She checked her files on the screen one last time. “Sorry Tommy, but it doesn’t add up.” “I agree,” said Jack. Slouched on her small sofa, he was nursing a beer. Piles of paper files were stacked all over the place and he had displayed a dozen photographs before him on the coffee table. “What do you mean?” Lynley ran his hands through his hair and leaned back into his seat, his hands behind his head, looking weary and moody. “Well… I don’t buy it sir. Look. According to Lafferty, the first two DOA’s were found approximately three hours tops after their death but he doesn’t rule out that they could have been put on ice for a while.” “Ok. Where? You would need awfully big ice buckets Havers.” “Be patient, bear with me sir,” she said counting on her fingers. “No blood on the scene. No fingerprints, no shoes. But what about the third? Blood everywhere, partial prints. And don’t get me started on number four! This one was really messy… You haven’t found one ounce of evidence to tie those four bodies to the mob or to any notorious pimp. I say we start all over from another vantage point.” Lynley sighed heavily and sat up straight. “And that’s what your fancy charts tell you, I reckon?” She waved dismissively at her laptop. “Don’t you be judgemental about my computer skills sir! Nope. I came up with this theory all by myself. In fact, Jack too thinks that we are barking at the wrong tree.” “Really, you do?” Lynley turned to Buchanan with a sneer, his eyebrows arched. “Ok, you get my attention Havers. I’m listening.” “You remember the lady with the dog?” asked Jack. Lynley agreed. “Our witness?” “Well, I asked Winston to do some digging,” said Jack. “She lives alone but her sister doesn’t. Three kids, three possible fathers, single mother, a former drug addict. Works at the local Budgens part time and strip at the “Bada Bing” in King's Cross from 10 to 3, five days a week.” “The Bada Bing?” “Yeah… I know,” said Jack. “This Sopranos frenzy will never end. What do you say? You follow my drift? She’s been seeing a bunch of guys that the Met tried to nab in the past on account of petty thief and fraud. But it seems that among the lot two of them wanted to think bigger. They got themselves involved in trafficking photographs and videos. Nasty. The under aged type. We believe they could have been involved in a larger pedophile scheme.” “And exit the Russian mob and the local pimps…” triumphed Havers. “And that got me thinking. Jack told me that your witness was a CSI fan…” “You don’t think she could be involved in the murders?” asked Lynley. “Why not? She has the mobile, she wants to rescue her nephews, and perhaps the guys were not only into video or pictures but also into molesting…” “They are?” “Thirteen and eight for the girls. The boy is eleven.” Lynley sighed, took the photographs to watch them again. Barbara was right. Maybe they had missed something. That mob hunch was not leading them anywhere. That was a dead end. “So you think they watched too many cop shows, made some research on the Internet and provided us with perfect and not so perfect copycat murders?” Havers and Buchanan nodded. “What about the victims? You have names? Addresses?” “The pedophile gang network had only been identified a couple of weeks ago. Project Sapphire are working along with your Criminal Investigation Department. It’s gonna take a while to crack all computers and retrieve info from every hard drives, not to mention find out how many people are involved. They arrested more than two hundred people already.” “I see, I guess the correct answer is that you don’t.” Jack shrugged apologetically. “Not yet. But I’m working on it. Lafferty should provide me with more details in the next 24 hours.” “So I was thinking,” continued Havers. “If she –or they, in the alternative that the two sis are involved- wanted to go after those pervs, nobody would really regret them or bother to report the scumbags were missing. And my guess is that those ladies probably knew more than two of those bastards…” “… hence the four bodies. So you think they faked the mob crimes to lure us away…” “Exactly.” “… but they eventually got lazy or something happened and they got rid of the last two bodies in a hurry. But why pose as a witness then? Unless you wanted to be pointed at?” “Reversed psychology. She came forward to divert attention. She was a decoy. And you have to admit that the dog is a cute touch.” “Yes, if you’re right, it is.” “And her sister Marilyn works at Budgens remember? She has access to a cold room,” said Jack. “Except that she got fired a week ago. I went to see the manager,” explained Havers. “She didn’t show three days in a row then showed up stoned last Friday. He fired her on the spot the same day we found the third victim.” “Look Lynley, you got to admit our theory makes sense!” pressed Jack. “So what do you say sir?” Lynley checked his watch. “I say it’s late already. We don’t want to get carried away. I say we sleep on it. Besides I have a meeting with Asst. Commissioner Evans first thing tomorrow.” “Want to sleep over sir?” “Unless I sleep with Buchanan in your spare room and I’m not sure he’d appreciate…” “You can sleep in my bed sir… I mean you could have my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch, I don’t mind.” “Thanks Barbara but I have to decline the offer. Speaking of what. Jack, would you consider mine?” “I will Tommy, the minute this case is over. We’re a damn good team Barb and I and we always come up with great ideas through the wee hours of the morning, don’t we Barb?” She nodded awkwardly. “You sure sir?” Lynley stoop up. “Yes. I’m officially calling it a night.” -o- Lynley went back to his flat but sleep eluded him. He was exhausted and felt restless all the same. He was aware that if Jack had not been staying at her place, he would have happily slept like a baby on her couch. Or on the floor. At 6 o’clock, he was ready to go back to the Met. He took his car out of the garage and headed to his office. The meeting with Evans went smoothly. Provided with new material from Lafferty and a complete file compiled by DC Nkata on the Morgan sisters, he proposed to bring the investigation to a new level and Evans encouraged him to follow that new lead. It was almost 8:30 am when Buchanan finally showed up and slumped on the chair facing his desk. He sat his strong ristretto on the stacks of files, handed an espresso macchiato to Lynley and smiled. “Sugar? Short night, huh? How did it go with Evans? Did he buy it?” he said, going straight to the point. “Yes, he did. He was rather enthusiastic, I must say. I had time to think last night. Barbara is right, we should investigate the sisters. Her idea is as good as any. We’re stuck and Evans is going to hand our heads on a plate to the Commissioner if we can’t bring in a suspect within the next 24 hours.” “The press will eat you alive first.” “You’re probably right,” he chuckled. “Fortunately, Winston came up with a bunch of new intel and Lafferty left this on my desk.” Buchanan rummaged through the files sipping on his coffee. “Those two guys are fantastic, you know that? If Winnie doesn’t make inspector before Christmas, I will have to take him away with me when I go back to New York. And Stu, man, this guy is a genius.” Lynley relaxed. Jack’s teen like gusto was rubbing off on him. As far as he could remember, no one has ever referred to Lafferty as ‘Stu’. Stu… It suits him he thought. “Before we go hunting, I would like to have a word with you Lynley.” “By all means.” “I would love to take you on your offer to share your loft downtown, but I’m not sure that is in Barb’s best interest.” “What do you mean?” “Well, I’m sure you know about her money problems?” Lynley nodded, a deep crease on his forehead. Money should never be a problem, he thought, knowing that it was for her on a daily basis. In addition to her mortgage, there were her mother’s nursing home, the additional costs while she was in the US and probably more that he had not the first clue about. He was ready to help but he already knew she would never accept. “For the time being, we made a roommate arrangement and currently share expenses. It’s like being back to college, except we never went,” he joked. “She needs the money to get back on her feet, you know. They cut her salary when she was on leave. I mean, she did not have to pay for her training but she lost quite a bit in the process, even with the guys’ help. But we talked about that already.” “Yes, we did.” “I’m sure she would love to get me out of her hair, but she cannot afford it right now. And it’s part my fault because I’ve drawn her into some futile wardrobe expenses.” “I noticed,” said Lynley with an oblique look. “She wants to be another Havers. Her memory is still totally fuzzy you know, even if she can put some things back together, she doesn’t get the big picture yet. I believe that she thinks it is time for her to make a change when her previous life is still a blur. I have to say she surprises me everyday. She’s the same person and she’s so completely different at the same time. The Barbara I met in New York would never have brazened out this crisis with that much self assurance and bravado. You knew that she booked a two weeks vacation in Paris?” “You say she’s not back to normal?” “She’s far from it actually. At this point, she can’t tell what’s real or not. I mean she seems to have a very intense imagination. And probably that’s why she’s such a good cop. The problem is she doesn’t seem to disentangle facts from fiction when it comes to her past. She doesn’t know what’s happened or not.” “I’m not sure that I understand…” “… sure you do. I don’t want to be rude but to put it bluntly I have no doubt that some of your male colleagues assumed that you two were intimate.” He waved a dismissive hand before Lynley could protest. “I don’t care if you weren’t. You and Barb worked together, right? I mean long hours in your car or hers or here at the Met or canvassing or interviewed witnesses. People who work together spend more time and know more about each other than most married couples. You know about their friends, relationships, what their hopes are, what secrets they hide deep inside. I’m just telling she’s mixed up. Because today, she’s lost her bearings, she has no past to relate to that can stop her from doing whatever she wants or ties her up to vague promises or false hopes.” “I see,” Lynley finally said. “That was quite a speech…” He finished his coffee and locked his eyes on Jack’s. “I guess I have to thank you for your candour.” “Don’t mention it.” “You told me you share her flat because she needs the money?” “And with her Paris stunt, now you know why she’s broke…” -o- “That was an unforeseeable twist Barbara but I agree you were dead right. I can’t believe I missed that this was only a bad turn of events.” Lynley was half seated on his desk facing Jack and his former partner. “Well actually you concur it was an accident to begin with,” she said. “When O’Grady had a heart attack and failed to rape her daughter Marilyn merely panicked. She should have called 999 instead. And if his buddy McBroden had not showed up this minute, he would most likely be alive today.” “And molesting children,” said Jack. “You’re not saying they were right to kill these three men are you?” “I’m not saying anything. I’m not sure I wouldn’t have done the same thing in the same circumstances.” “Too bad Marilyn finally OD’ed…” Barbara sighed, looking at her feet and tracing half a circle with the tip of her pump. “How is she?” asked Lynley. “Fried,” said Jack. “They’re keeping her at the free clinic for now but she’s gonna spend the rest of her life watered and fed like a house plant. There’s nobody home. As for Auntie Caroline, she’s gone missing and I don’t blame her. Four, sorry, three crimes… Well, I doubt we ever find her anyway. The kids are with the social services now and tomorrow they are sent away to their grand mother in Wales.” “How is young Sophie holding up?” “Well she can’t remember squat and that’s a good thing,” Havers said averting Lynley’s gaze. “Welcome to the club,” she whispered. “My guess is Caroline did it,” said Jack. “She tempered with evidence and faked mob crimes. She’s good.” “What’s next?” asked Havers. “You mean with our investigation?” “No sir,” she grinned. “I mean anyone fancy a drink?” “Sorry Havers but I have to see with Winston to clear these files today. You can’t spare me two hours, can you?” “Nope, leaving the building now. No in fact, I was never here!” “Jack?” “I’m done for today. I’m only on training here you know…” “Maybe later then, sir?” “I’m afraid I have to attend a social event in…” She cut him off. “Ok sir. See you around then. Are you coming Jack?” “I’ll walk you to your car.” “Adriana?” “Yes. A diner and a movie. We’re taking it slow.” “Good for you Jack,” she elbowed him in the chest and turning back to Lynley, “I’m off. Call me if you need me. Have a nice evening sir.” -o- All the way back to her place, she mulled over the last weeks. It had been good to be somewhat back to the job. But was it something she really wanted? To be a police officer, to become an inspector, go up the ladder. She was not sure any more. Working with Lynley had been fun but not as much that she anticipated it would. Maybe her expectations or her standards were too high. Jack had told her again and again they used to be a great team but she could not help doubting it. He was stubborn, patronizing, condescending. She could tell he did not consider himself intellectually superior to her or Jack but he was showing off his social background inadvertently and in the end it felt weird to work with a lord. Jack had briefed her about her so-called feelings. He was a fine specimen, and she knew she was attracted to him but she had the opportunity to get herself a new life and she was ready to move on. Oddly, she could not remember being in love but only subject to a childish crush. Was it that she was lost in admiration before and could not decide if it was only friendship and camaraderie or more? She pulled over and slammed the door of the car. Spotting light at Azhar’s windows she checked her watch. It was too late to pay a visit to Haddiyah and she was not in the mood for her neighbour conversation. She walked quickly to her apartment, locked the door behind her, hung her bag and coat, took off her shoes while walking and disrobed on her way to the bathroom. She would feel better after a long soak in a bubble bath and a glass of wine. She turned on the water, sprinkled a handful of Dead Sea bath salts, courtesy of Jack, and went back to the kitchen to fix her drink. She sat the glass on the shelf at the bottom of the bathtub and hesitated between two tubes. “Oyster Shell Extract, rich in vitamins and minerals, skin protectant. Hydrogenated Lecithin, a natural emollient and antioxidant used to moisturize the skin” she read on the first one. Is it true that oysters are aphrodisiac, she grinned to herself. She went for the other one instead and applied a generous amount of pink clay mask on her face and neck. Then she did the same on her hair with a mud mask, gently massaging her scalp until she felt tension slacken. She wrapped a towel on her hair and entered the warm bath with a sigh of satisfaction. Exactly what the doctor ordered she thought. One baby step at a time. She took a sip of her wine and relaxed. -o- Adriana was a good idea gone wrong. Jack knew that she was nothing like his late wife. It was the reason he had accepted to go through the whole process of dating again. But the fact was she was not either what he intended to find in a woman, not even remotely. She was carefree, young and energetic. Jack Buchanan was looking for calm and gentle with a zest of ‘I’ve seen life as it is and I’m not afraid to confront it’. He kissed her good night at her door, trying to stay as detached as possible when she seemed so utterly disappointed that he almost changed his mind and headed back to the nearest cab station. It was time to have the explanation he had delayed. He owed Barbara that much. -o- “Jack is that you?” she yelled from the bathroom. “I’m not visible… There’s some cold beers in the fridge, help yourself, I’ll be right there.” She was foggy and frozen. She might have dozed off, all the bubbles were gone she thought, trying to pull herself together. She shivered in the cold water and sat up straight in the tub resisting the urge to rub her eyes. She stopped breathing and listened intently. She was alone. She might have… The doorbell rang again and she jumped splashing water all over the place. She pulled on the small chain and the water started to run down the drain. She took a large beach towel featuring a group of dancing turtles and grinning dolphins, folded it around her and went to the door leaving a water trail behind her. “Forgot your keys again Jack?” she chuckled and opened the door. Lynley was standing outside in the dim light of the hallway. He was wearing a dinner jacket with trousers sporting a silken stripe down the side, a bow tie, a pleated sash and a white silk scarf around his neck. The whole shebang. “You’re not Jack.” “And you’re not ready to go back to the job yet obviously,” he said dryly. “Your powers of deduction are failing you? Or is it the mud in your eyes?” She felt a burst of uncontrolled anger cloud her judgement and swung the door close. His foot was in the way. The door bounced back and hurt her. “I’m sorry Barbara.” “That’s Havers to you SIR.” “Can we try this again? Please?” “We? Since when is there is a ‘we’? Did I miss something?” “May I, please?” Still dripping on the floor she pursed her lips, tilted her head and nodded. “Go ahead. I’m curious. First you barge in and act like a complete prick and now what? You’re planning to turn into a frog?” she said. “Ok, close the door now and imagine I was never here. Can you do this for me please… Havers?” She sighed and rolled her eyes but did as instructed and the doorbell rang again. “Are you trying to wake up the entire neighbourhood?” she asked flinging the door open. “Have you any idea what time it is?” “Don’t you think it’s time for a truce? Aren’t going to invite me inside?” “I was not expecting you sir.” “Please? We need to talk.” “Don’t you think it’s a bit late to talk shop?” “Who said I came to talk about work?” She went red behind her mask and moved away to let him inside. She closed the door and wiped her face leaving a streak of pink on her hand. “I got to…” she gestured to the bathroom. “I won’t be long.” “Take your time Havers. I guess I should not have come but I figure that now I…” “That’s ok sir. Make yourself at home. I wanted to treat myself with some girlie stuff but I must have fallen asleep.” “Hard week.” “Yes, sir. I’ll be back.” Lynley hang his coat, walked inside the flat picking up her clothes on his way. He made a neat pile of them on her bed and went back to the kitchen. There was an opened bottle of red wine on the counter but he needed something a bit stronger. He retrieved a bottle of whiskey from the brown bag he had brought with him and poured himself a glass. He found a mop behind the door and wiped up the soaked floor. Then he took a sip of his glass and sat on the sofa. All the files they had brought back to her place to study were gone and only her laptop was humming on the coffee table. He put it aside and the monitor went alive. A letter of resignation she had begun to write was displayed. He was not prepared to the possibility that she could leave the Met. Working for Scotland Yard was considered an honour. Leaving it for personal reason was rare if not unheard of. He scrolled down to read it. It was only a draft in progress. Impatiently, he minimized the text to tray and searched through her files for some extra clues. He found a huge folder with old photographs of her family, her brother, her mum at the nursing home. There was another one called MET. He clicked and found himself engulfed in years of compiled data about her work on different cases and previous investigations. He swept randomly but nothing really stood out. He was on the verge of doing a full sweep of the last directories by date of access when he heard she was coming back from the bathroom. He closed all folders and shut the laptop. She had rinsed her hair and face and her hair was wet and longer than usual. She was wearing an old oversized green t-shirt with the inscription ‘Han Shot First’ printed on the front over black training trousers with two white stripes on the leg. Her feet were hidden inside two huge pale pink plush bunnies. Her eyes were large, green and puffy. She’d been crying. TBC Part 15 |
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