| Call Me Daddy
© Xeen PART 18 It has been the worse dull grey morning ever and now after an even worse afternoon, Lynley was facing the prospect of yet another evening alone filled with self-pity and remorse. Files have been piling up in his office while he was in Howenstow. Being back to the Met was not as much fun as he would have imagined now that Havers was out of the picture working off the radar along with Buchanan and out of his life after his brilliant move. If he was unsuccessful at making her change her mind, he might have to resign his position when she comes back or at least ask for a transfer. Working in Cornwall could prove to be colourful, he smiled reluctantly. He closed the door and sat heavily behind his desk staring absently at his files. In four days, she had not picked up her phone once to give him a call or cared to answer his calls on her mobile. He glanced at his watch; it was too soon to leave another message on her answering machine. He probably sounded desperate already not to mention pathetic. They had been friends for years but in two days he had succeeded into setting her against him, it was simply mind-boggling. Even in his book, it took him usually longer to mess things up. But romancing Havers has proven from the start to be an adventurous endeavour. Nothing short of his best behaviour and creativity was required because she was not willing to accept the regular routine he performed to entertain his female friends. No diner, no fancy evening, no Champagne… Accustomed to sparing no expense, he was deeply challenged. Since she insisted on paying her share of just about everything, it had turned out to be impossible and cut his inspiration short. Apart from taking her to a fun fair or for a walk in the park, there was not much he was allowed to, and he’d be lucky to buy her candy floss and a stout, or if she was in one of her moods to offer a glass of tap water to wash it down. On the work front, he was facing a dead end as well. Working on a tough case with a new recruit, the young Allyson Morgan, he wished he could have asked of her what he always found natural to ask of Havers, intuition, know how and a little common sense. But she had neither and was merely happy with keeping his files up to date and getting him coffee and sandwiches. In no need of a clerk but of a real copper and on a different level of a true friend, Lynley was getting more and more impatient, huffy and out of sorts by the minute. He had noticed that Nkata seemed to assert the situation perfectly and kept to himself his usual banter and clever remarks. As for Lafferty, he had an acute perception of the human mind for someone whose job was related to dead people. Behaving like his usual sarcastic self, Stuart had even managed to let slip some crude innuendos about his relation with Havers in their recent conversations. Buchanan had been assigned to the St Pancras Meeting statue killer case and was spending most of his time in Somers Town. Jack talked to her on the phone on a daily basis but if she had mentioned anything about last Sunday, he did not share. They met for breakfast and Lynley would drop him later around town or at the Met. On Tuesday, he gave Jack a lift to Havers’ to get his stuff. All his belongings were neatly packed and piled against the kitchen counter in a very non-Havers-ly fashion with a ‘wish you luck’ note. She was not home, making it clear that she wanted to stay away from him… --or he was getting paranoid and she was busy elsewhere, he said to himself. The prospect of spending his next weekend without an explanation or a word from her was less than engaging but he had not the faintest idea of how to proceed to reach out to her. With any other woman, he would have sent flowers and an invitation for Le Cirque du Soleil’s new show at the Albert Hall or Alan Ayckbourn's triptych of plays at The Old Vic and hoped that they’d make up over La Langoustine and a Pinot Noir at L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon near Covent Garden. But it was totally out of the question with Barbara. Searching her computer was an unforgivable move. If she had cut him loose for reading only one letter, he could not begin to imagine how she would react if she discovered the full extent of his deception. Now that they were estranged, he could not confess what he was really up to and get it off his chest. To ask for Jack’s help was out of the question and Winston was mastering in the art of avoiding him at all costs. He checked on his mobile for a message from her he could have missed and was ready to speed dial her again when his phone rang. “Lynley.” “If you’re not busy, I would like to see you immediately,” said Deputy Commissioner Hillier in a commanding voice. “On my way sir.” -o- “To make a long story short Lynley, if you can’t find anything else to incriminate them, they simply walk. And you know what it means.” “No pressure,” he sighed with a nod. Hillier stood up and came closer to Lynley who was sitting across his desk, his hands on his lap, projecting his usual poised image. Lynley crossed his legs in a move that seemed defensive although it was merely to hide a flare of irritation. He stared up at his superior. “Why not ask the Financial Services Authorities for their help when you’re at it?” he said with a smirk. “They should handle this case more efficiently than we can.” “You cannot be serious!” he said loudly, almost losing his temper at his superior provocative stance. “You understand that I am not too keen either about the alternative,” confirmed Hillier who perched on the corner of his desk and leaned towards him invading his personal space. “What they did isn't about waving a water pistol at a cashier's head.” “Good heavens, they almost bankrupted the Midland Bank...” “And I have no doubt that given enough time, they would have eventually succeeded. You have forty eight extra hours --tops, Lynley. After that, the case is off my hands,” he said, pointing a finger to the ceiling and the powers that be with a meaningful look. “Let’s say we reconvene on Saturday, nine sharp and decide what’s next.” “I’ll do my best sir. Our men are working round the clock. If there’s something to be found they will find it.” Lynley was about to get up but Hillier made it clear he was not done. “What about Morgan?” “What about her sir?” “Listen Lynley, I reckon she’s not Havers but I hardly think she qualifies. Is she even close to being of any assistance to you?” “It’s her first assignment sir, I’m sure she’ll pull it through --eventually.” “You’re too kind.,” Hillier sighed. He tuned his back to Lynley and sat back opposite him at his desk. “Speaking of Havers, how is she doing? I heard she stayed at your place in Cornwall for a bit after her kidnapping,” he asked casually. “Yes she did sir,” Lynley said, trying to look as relaxed as he was tense. “I am afraid I haven’t talked to her lately.” At least this part was true if not totally accurate, he pondered. “She’s doing fine.” I think. “After these last weeks in counselling, she completed her evaluation on Tuesday; she will continue her work with her support group for a while though,” explained Hillier. That should explain why she was not at her place when we gathered Jack’s stuff. “The shrink seems to think that she’s fit for duty.” “Don’t you get me started on psychiatric evaluation sir,” Lynley scolded. “I won’t. You two had not been working together for some time but would you say she was given all the help she needed?” “Absolutely sir, she was fine last time we met.” “And when would that be?” “Err… last week… well less than a week actually.” “Nothing I should be aware of, anything unusual?” “No sir.” Hillier stared him in the eyes and Lynley wondered if for some unthinkable reason he heard anything of the unbelievable turn taken by their relation over the last week end. “We won’t have a conversation about her moonlighting for Buchanan and you, if you must know,” he said. Lynley remained stony-faced. Hillier’s mouth twitched but he did not comment further. “I just want you to know that she made an appointment with me,” Hillier finally said. “When will you meet her sir, if you don’t mind me asking?” “I don’t. As a matter of fact, she was here this morning. I’m surprised she did not pay you a visit,” he smiles triumphantly. “Maybe she did. I was interviewing suspects all morning,” Lynley lied gracefully. “Well, she came to the Met to hand me her resignation --personally. I won’t dispute it came as a bit of a shock to me. She passed the board to inspector and I can’t see why she would quit now.” If Lynley was taken aback, he did not show. “She passed?” “A couple of months ago, before I sent her to Cornwall actually. I had to remind her of her success because she apparently blocked it from her long-term memories. This amnesia of hers is clearly not transitory but she seems to handle the situation rather well I must say. You should know that I intended to promote her to Inspector as soon she was ready to come back, but she reacted in a way I would never have expected -even from her, after the time and energy she spent working in the Department.” “What did she say? Being promoted was her goal -ultimately.” “Well, it is embarrassing, Lynley. She wanted to make sure that you have nothing to do with it. She said that she won’t tolerate any favour. It was funny enough because I always had in mind that you were the one keeping her form achieving this goal and hindering her career. I would bet that she put it on hold to maintain your… association. And don’t get me wrong, with her education and background, you’re probably the best thing that happened to her even if DI Knight was the catalyst in the end. Anyway, she didn’t change her mind after I broke the news, so I refused her resignation and told her to think twice about her decision.” “I see.” “For the time being I will keep her notice with me as long as she needs.” He opened his drawer. “Here is a copy of her letter Lynley. Read it.” For Christ’s sake, I should have waited. Hillier is handing me the letter on a silver plate. “I want you to go and see Havers and talk her out of it. Do you understand me? I have some ambitions for her. She’s one of our best assets. Do everything you can Lynley, whatever it takes.” -o- Lynley strode across the detective pool drawing everyone’s attention to his tall and decided figure and went past Nkata. “You’re with me,” he said in an unquestionable tone. Winston, who was on the phone, shrugged apologetically and made a face. “NOW!” shouted Lynley without slowing down. “Sorry Stuart, I will have to call you back,” said Nkata before hanging up. “Let’s go,” added Lynley, a cryptic expression on his face. He rushed out and Nkata grabbed his coat and followed suit. Less than ten minutes later, they were seated in the nearest pub in front of a basket of chips and a lager. “We have to talk.” “We have to talk?” “You’re a good friend of Havers, aren’t you?” “Absolutely.” “You’ve known her for what? Ten, eleven years?” “Fourteen, sir.” “Fourteen years? How is that possible? Well, never mind,” he said before Winston could answer. “You saw her this morning, what did she tell you?” “Not much I’m afraid. She was here to see Hillier. I mean Deputy Commissioner Hillier, sir.” “Drop it Winston,” cut Lynley. So she did talk to Nkata but did not even bother to look for him and say hello, he thought with a hint of anger and jealousy. That is bad. “Have you any idea why would she want to quit?” “She didn’t tell. I mean, she kind of did but it did not make sense anyway. She said she was not sure she wanted to be on the job any longer because she could not be your partner. I told her that it was not good enough. You haven’t been a team for over two years now, so it was hardly news. But she insisted that being teamed up with anyone else will never have the same appeal and that she had lost interest. She must be really upset because you just don’t quit New Scotland Yard do you?” he said with an exaggerate Brixton twang. “She told you she passed the board?” “Yes obviously and she’s very supportive of me being promoted to Constable,” he grinned trying to defuse their tensed exchange. “Is there anything else I should know?” asked a very bossy Lynley. He took another gulp of his beer and peered expectedly at Winston’s face. “Like what? I’m afraid I…” “Let’s begin with her new look for instance?” “Err… I bet you noticed that she doesn’t even look like… well --like Havers lately,” said Winston with caution. “When she went shopping with Sandy and Lauren last month, she totally transformed into someone else.” “My sentiment exactly. Do you know why? Is she looking for a new job and getting herself ready for interviews? Did she meet someone?” Lynley regretted immediately his last question. He was out of line. Winston gave him an amazed look but didn’t comment. “I was not under the impression that she was seeking professional change sir. When it comes to her personal life, I’m afraid you’ll have to ask her,” he added rather dryly. “If she’s broken-hearted, she did not confide in me, that’s a fact. But she doesn’t strike me as someone who would resign because she was ditched. I saw her rat-arsed once over a fellow, but she would not tell me who he was, she was probably afraid that me and the boys would go after him and teach him a lesson.” “I see. And when was that?” “About two years ago I would say, three tops.” Was it because of me? When Helen and I tried to make our marriage work again, Havers talked me into it herself. Oh my god, have I been blind all this time or am I just the conceited prick she always said I was for even thinking I could be responsible for it? “And you cannot dismiss that there are times when you simply feel like jacking it all in,” said Winston matter-of-factly. “You think it’s a possibility?” “I have absolutely no idea, but her attitude got me thinking,” he said immediately, “and I’m still trying to understand… but you’ve got to know that none of us wants her to quit. Well, except maybe for Gordon and Jamison, and I’m not even sure. We’re all very fond of Barbara. She’s been around for some time now and she’s made good friends in the Department; everyone knew that she’s been stressed out lately. I figured that as soon as she was cleared by Dr. Easton, she’ll be up and running. It’s not like her to stay away from work.” “Any hunch on what might keep her?” “That’s exactly what Stuart asked me. Actually, she told me last week that she was still having bad dreams about that man, you know.” “Her abductor, Terndell?” “That would be the one. She still can’t remember what happened. It’s like he could have done anything to her and still get away with it.” “Well, technically he did not escape his punishment.” “The fact that he turned into a crisp doesn’t make it any different to her. In her dreams, he’s very much alive, it doesn’t take a shrink to see that,” he scolded. “I had no idea she was still having nightmares about her kidnapping.” “And that’s precisely why I can’t understand why Easton cleared her. If Barbara doesn’t come back to work, it’s because she’s frightened. She just can’t get over it. It has othing to do with partnering with you or having cold feet about the job. I’m thinking she didn’t tell you because she probably didn’t want to alarm you. She was a bit upset after her stay in your… at your, err… your place?” “In Howenstow?” So her primarily concern had been to protect and shield him from whatever was going on. It has always been for his sake, not hers, he thought. He never questioned her well-being, taking for granted that she was alright because he had found her. The fact that she was physically out of harm’s way at the mansion did not mean she had made her peace. Terndell’s death was irrelevant as long as she did not come to terms with what happened. Her amnesia far from keeping her safe was dragging her up to hit rock bottom. He could not believe that he had missed the whole point. “Stuart and me, we tried to cheer her up but it doesn’t work,” Winston nodded. “And I think there’s nothing her American colleague can do either. He told me that they spent a couple of days throwing away things she’s been keeping like forever. Jack said she totally cleared her closets. She kind of got rid of about everything except for a pair of battered trainers, a couple of baggy clothes and her old parka. She was intending a complete makeover. That’s why the girls took her around town for some major shopping.” “I see,” said Lynley though he could not see diddlysquat. “The girls did a fantastic job with her,” said Winston, “they stretched her clothing quids to the limit. She projects such a confident persona that no one teased her when she went back to the Met all dolled up.” He chewed on cold chips and gave a look around before returning his attention to Lynley, withdrawn deep into his thoughts, and decided to keep his interrogations to himself. An uncomfortable silence ensued fortunately fully occupied by the patrons’ turmoil. He realised that he had been holding his breath when Lynley’s mobile rang, startling them both. “We have to go,” said Lynley briefly. He stood up, left a few notes on the table and added. “It seems that Thompson found some relevant information. Maybe we will close this case before the end of the day.” “I’m glad we talked sir and if you don’t mind me saying, she really could use your help. She thinks very highly of you. And as her best friend, you should do whatever you can to get her through this.” Lynley flashed him an astonished smile and they left the pub. -o- Lynley was sitting in his car parked on his usual spot at the Met, focusing on the bright yellow sign placed on the wall before the sports sedan hood. WHEN FLOODED DO NOT PARK It seemed totally nonsensical. If he was unable to make heads or tails out of it, he could credit his exhaustion. After two hectic days, they were finally able to close the case and he was glad his investigation was over without turning to the FSA for help. Thompson’s finds had proven to be decisive and gave him foundation to respond in full swing and arrest the violators before they abscond. Now that he had met with Hillier for the umpteenth time and filed miles of paperwork with Morgan’s help, he was free to go looking for Havers. Taking his leave before Hillier asked him to organize a press conference to gloat about their success was a brilliant move. He was tired of being pushed in the spotlights every time the Met was looking for a poster boy. Lord Asherton’s professional success and the press; he should write a book about it someday along with his essential “Failing your personal life for Dummies” handbook. The car park went back to darkness and Lynley found himself surrounded by shadows and only disturbed by the haphazardly roaming sound and flares of cars in the distance. Hands on the wheel, he stayed still for some time trying to focus. Another sleepless night had taken his toll on him and he wanted nothing more than getting things back to normal –whatever normalcy it was. For the time being, he was more preoccupied about Barbara than New Scotland Yard politics. She has not responded to her phone or mobile and her box would refuse extra calls. He was beyond worried; he had to go and see her, force her door if necessary. The Barbara he knew could take care of herself in almost every circumstance. She was tough, she was determined; she was close to fearless and known to go off the deep end –on occasions. He was not so sure about the new Barbara but he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. He still expected from her that she would not leave him hanging out to dry unless she was not only offended by what he had done but truly deeply hurt. Her last call to Jack was four days ago but he seemed to think that she had made up her mind to pack and go on to wherever she was planning to spend her special holiday. And leaving her mobile home, not likely, he thought. Lynley could not help believing that if she had left, she would have told Jack or Winston and it added to his anxiety. His phone rang loudly inside his coat pocket. “Lynley.” His voice echoed in the underground car park. “Tommy, Buchanan here. I just got a call from the British Transport Police. They found a suspect package in the Eurostar's dispatch area.” “In Saint Pancras International? What do you need me for? Is it related to your statue killer case?” he asked impatiently. Jack did not answer. “You are aware that any unattended luggage is to be confiscated and destroyed. But when the BTP found a tag with the Met phone number they took their chances and opened it. A sheet was clipped to the inside lid of the luggage with name and address, cell phone number, home phone, work phone and travel itinerary both in English and French.” “Why am I interested?” “They called the cell number and the tote they found inside the unclaimed suitcase rang in their office.” “Jack, I’m not in the mood for riddles right now. It’s not even seven a.m. and I haven’t slept in two days. All I want is to go back home and have a shower before heading to Barbara’s to make amends. Please, go the point if there’s any.” “They ruled out the terrorist threat,” explained Jack who remained unruffled. “They called us the minute they retrieved her badge. Tommy, it’s Barbara’s… -- the bag, the luggage, it’s hers.” It was not happening. What were the odds she could have been attacked twice in the same year? “Hers?” He stepped out of the car clutching his phone to his ear. Staggering to the nearest pillar he caught his breath and punched the switch. A gloomy light replaced the shadows. “Yes, definitely hers, but they have no evidence she was attacked. I sent them some pictures, they will check CCTV footage and canvass the premises but I’m not very optimistic. It’s a huge place.” Still it was possible. Barbara already been shot twice; once really, since she was not physically hurt the second time. At the time, it had dawned on him that he was not ready to lose her. In the midst of his failing marriage, he had gained comfort and strength in having her as a friend. He was even less prepared today with Helen gone. He could not contemplate losing her now. Not before they had a chance to talk. Not ever. “Did your Jack the ripper copycat claim anything?” She might not be missing because she had been mugged or kidnapped. Despite of his blatant scare that she was in danger she could have been simply robbed. She was on her way home and unable to contact them. “No. Not yet.” “Good.” It didn’t make sense. If it was a robbery she would have found a way to let them know. “I'll keep you posted.” Trying to hold on to a more positive stance, he locked the Bristol and rushed back to his office. Neglecting the lift, he climbed stairs four at a time to release steam and attempt to organize his thoughts. -o- Tell me what you think: I'd like to hear from you :) TBC |
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