Warnings:  First of all *spoilers* ahead for Aussie fans.  Secondly, even though the subject is canon, it’s a nasty topic, so read with caution.  Thirdly, I don’t compensate (much) for the various accents on ‘The Bill’ so you’ll read Mickey talking about his ‘muvver’ rather than his ‘mother.’  This isn’t just a case of typos or bad spelling, it’s just the way it is.

Notes:  This started out as just idle ‘missing scenes’ in my head and just started growing.  When I saw The Bill making its long overdue appearance here, I thought I’d write the whole thing.  Portions that you recognise are from the episode first shown on 24/9/03, the rest is original material, hopefully they mesh fairly well.  There will be more.  The next two episodes have much greater room to expand on, but just a hint, if I don’t know you’re reading…you know? 

 

One of Our Own I:

Playing Against the Book

By NorthernStar

 

 

Shaking, shaking, shaking…the pain never dulling, never going away.  He couldn’t stop trembling.  The table dug into his hips and stomach, bruised so badly now that even the slightest movement was torture.  But that was nothing compared to the pain in his…

From where Delaney had…

There was silence now, in the warehouse, just faint drip of water through the roof and the small scrapping sounds as he twisted and tugged his arms, working the bindings around his wrists loose.  The silence was ugly, closing in, but at least Delaney was gone. 

When the bastard had finished, he’d just left, leaving Mickey tied and half naked and sobbing.  He didn’t say a word.

Mickey had thought Delaney would kill him. 

When…that…was happening, during it, Mickey wished he had.

He tugged hard with his right hand, wincing at the ache in his shoulder from the unnatural position.  The noise echoed in the darkness.  He had made so much noise while it was happening, yelling and twisting; trying to get away, the sounds had filled the empty warehouse, booming loudly off the walls. 

I’ll make you wish you’d never set eyes on me.  Delaney had said after Mickey arrested him.

He’d heard lot worse over the years.  Didn’t know what kind of a nutter he was dealing with then. Is that a threat?  He snorted unimpressed. 

That’s a promise.  His reply was predictable.  He looked Mickey right in the face.  I can’t wait.

Then he’d been led away to be charged.  But it had been a heavy day at the nick, and he’d escaped, claiming to be another prisoner in the chaos of the station.  He took another’s identity and possessions and just walked out of the station.

And then he’d gone after Rachel Heath; done a real number on her.

Jack had not been pleased…

 

***

 

As soon as Mickey got into the station that morning, Meadows wanted to see him.  The DCI let him into his office and followed him in.

Mickey was not looking forward to this conversation.

“How’s Rachel, guv?”  He asked.

Jack’s response was cold.  “Delaney put her in hospital.  How do you think she is?”  He demanded.  “So, can you explain to me how a prisoner in your custody managed to escape from this nick in broad daylight?”

He wasn’t about to take that.  “Hang on a second; it was sergeant Murphy who accidentally released Delaney from custody, not me, guv.”

“Sergeant Murphy’s been investigated.”  Jack told him.  “Delaney wouldn’t have got anywhere near Rachel if you hadn’t set this sting up in the first place.”

“Rachel volunteered.”  He pointed out.  “She wanted to set him up.”

“Well you’re the copper.  You should have known better.  You used her as bait, left her exposed. That makes you responsible.”

“And you think I’d’ve got ‘er involved if I’d known what a nutter this Delaney was, yeah?”

“Suppose you think it was just an occupational hazard for somebody like Rachel?”

Did Jack really think that little of him?  “No, I treated it just like I’d treat any other case.”

“Oh I find that hard to believe.”

That hurt.  “Oh what you fink I did it deliberately, is that it, yeah?”

“You made it pretty clear what you think of our relationship.”

Mickey didn’t even bother answering that.  If the guv couldn’t see that disliking his boss sleeping with a prostitute and letting his personal feelings get in the way enough to allow an assault to happen to her were two completely different things, then he wasn’t going to waste air telling him. 

Jack opinion of him was practically non-existent right now; he’d made that completely clear over the last few weeks.  Mickey could live with that.

He could live with that.

“Delaney stole two credit cards from a Frankie Taylor in custody.”  He said, bringing the conversation back to business.  “Chances are he’s used them by now.”

Jack wasn’t about to let go of his anger just yet.  “Don’t rely on chances, Mickey.  You wanna get out there and find him.”  He looked hard at his officer.  “See if you can repair some of the damage you’ve caused.”

Mickey knew he wasn’t just talking about Rachel.

 

***

 

After two hours, Mickey had something else to go on.  Delaney’s mother lived in Sun Hill and with DS McAllister drove out to see her.  Debbie was in funny mood, digging for information about the woman Jack Meadows was seeing.  Even as he deflected her fishing, it struck him as odd that, even though the whole nick knew he and Meadows were having problems seeing eye to eye, he was still top of the list when it came to information on the DCI.

Mrs Delaney was sweet old dear, totally oblivious to her son’s time in jail and criminal record.  She proudly told them how he worked in sales, up in Edinbrough and that he’d taken her to New York one weekend.

This is my Martin, she said, showing them a photo, absolutely convinced they’d mistaken her son for someone else.  They went through the motions, telling her to get in contact with them if he showed up, knowing she wouldn’t.  Then they left.

Outside, Mickey walked off his frustration.  “She didn’t have a clue, did she?  Delaney fed her a pack of lies.”  He thought of his own mum, killed in a hit and run not long ago.  “What sorta geezer does that to his own muvver?”

Debbie hurried to keep up.  “What is it with this guy?  He’s got under everyone’s skin.”

He knew she meant Meadows, but even as he prepared himself to fend off more of her questions, he saw his car in the car park.  There was something on the bonnet, brown and cracking.  “What’s that?”

The van parked along side his car started up.  The window was open and Mickey instantly recognised the man behind the wheel.  “That’s Delaney!”  He broke into a run.  “Oi!” 

He pounded after the car, barely registering Debbie’s voice behind him.

“All units from DS McAllister…” 

He managed to thump the side of the van as it raced away. 

“Attention requested to a red van.”

He turned back to Debbie.  “Did you get it?”

“Registration number: Lima 4 0 7 Golf, Uniform, Charlie.”  She spoke into the radio, answering his question.

Mickey walked back to his car and gapped at the acid hissing on the bonnet and the smashed windows.  “What is this?”

Debbie was still on her radio.  “The driver is suspect Martin Delaney.”

“What is going on here?”

Debbie examined the damage.  “Looks like the feelings mutual for this guy.”

Mickey kicked the car.

 

***

 

An area car gave them a lift back to the nick.  Debbie was yapping about something the whole time, but his attention was elsewhere.  Delaney had wrecked his car and he had taken time to wait for Mickey’s reaction.  Waited to see Mickey’s face and make sure he knew just who was responsible.

Or was that just paranoia?

At the nick, PC Best brought Juliet an assault case.  Neither Mickey nor Debbie took much notice of their conversation until the name of the victim, Jane McGowan, was mentioned.

Mickey came over.  “Jane McGowan?” 

“We interviewed her yesterday.”  Debbie clarified.

“Who is she?”  Gary asked.

“Wife of Eddie McGowan.”  Juliet told him.  “He was in prison with Martin Delaney.”

“Eddie McGowan’s gone missing.”  Debbie added.

“They haven’t got CCTV but a witness description says he was six one, blonde hair, average build.”

“Hang on a second.”  Mickey went to his desk and grabbed a photo.  He held it out.  “Matches Delaney.”

“Right then.”  Debbie decided.  “I’d better get the DCI.”

 

***

 

The whiteboard now had another photo and Jack waited until Debbie finished scrawling the new information onto it before he addressed the small team of officer’s gathered around the board.  While not pleased that Delaney had stabbed another woman, it did mean with two victims on his file, the search would now be stepped up.

And Rachel would get justice.

Jack looked around at his officers.  “So why is Delaney after McGowan’s wife?”

Debbie started in on the easy stuff.  “He was inside with Eddie McGowan.” 

“Delaney told me McGowan stood by and did absolutely nothing while he was assaulted.”  Mickey added.  He had spoken a lot with Delaney while they’d had him in custody and probably knew him best.  “Delaney reckons he owes him.”

Juliet looked at him.  “Well, maybe Delaney decided to call in the debt from the wife.”

That was the most likely assumption, especially as Eddie was no where to be found.  “And Eddie McGowan is still missing?”  Jack asked.

Debbie nodded.  “Yeah, Jane filed a missing person’s report a couple of months ago and she said it was very unlike him to just go off like that.”

“Yeah, but Delaney has had some contact with McGowan.”  Mickey pointed out.  “I mean, he had his wallet.”  And for a while, he had used his identity.  With Rachel and the other prostitutes he stole from. 

Jack frowned.  “D’you think Delaney’s killed him?”

“It’s looking that way.”  Debbie said.

He didn’t like the sound of that.  If Delaney had moved on to killing, it was possible that Rachel was still in danger.  “Well, Delaney said that Rachel Heath had crossed him so she owed him a dept.”

Juliet frowned.  “What?  So this is about revenge?”

If it was then Delaney might have other targets.  “Let’s have a look at his prison records.”  Jack decided.  “See if he made any more enemies when he was inside.”

“He hasn’t used the credit cards he stole yesterday.”  Debbie told him. “So maybe that’s our best lead.”

Jack thought of another possibility.  “Do you still think he’s gonna go back to his mothers?”

“Not now he’s seen us there.”  Mickey said.

Jack frowned, reminded of the damage to Mickey’s car.  “Is it getting personal?”

“Against me?”  Mickey shook his head.  “Nah, he seems to play games against every character he comes across.”

“Well, he’s a dangerous man.”  Jack warned.  “So no heroics, eh?  We play everything by the book.”

 

***

 

Which he hadn’t, had he?  Going after Delaney without back-up and now….

Now he was going to be paying the price for the rest of his life.

 

***

 

Mickey grabbed lunch in the canteen and got updated about what was happening with Eva.  He didn’t spare much of a thought for Delaney until he got back to his desk.  He went to get out his notes to go over a few points, but the book was gone.  It wasn’t on his desk, on the floor, nor on Debbie’s desk or in his pocket.

Bugger.

He gave up looking when Debbie got off lunch and told him Jane McGowan had been certified fit to talk to the police.  They went to the hospital and into the small dark room where Jane McGowan lay.  She looked pale and tired and when she spoke, it was clear she was still in a fair amount of pain.  But despite this, she did her best to answer their questions.

It didn’t take long for Jane to describe her attacker.  It fitted Delaney to a T.

“Well done, Jane.”  Mickey murmured.

Now they were certain it was Delaney who stabbed her, they told her his name and asked if she knew of any connection between Eddie and Martin.  After a moments thought, the only thing she could remember was that her husband had mentioned him.  They’d shared a cell in prison.

As they were leaving, they met Meadows, who was following up on a Delaney sighting from Rachel Heath.  She was still in the hospital following her attack and thought she’d seen him on the ward.  Debbie immediately offered to see her instead, but Jack had insisted.

Mickey just nodded, trying not to care that Jack was still in complete denial over his relationship with Rachel.  So his DCI was sleeping with a tom?  If they both kept their mouths shut, no one would know.  And hopefully Jack would come to his senses.

He ignored Debbie’s questioning looks and went to the loo.  He realised later she must have followed the DCI and seen him with Rachel.

 

***

 

Debbie came up behind him as he read through a case file.  “What do you know about Rachel Heath?”  She asked, in that oh-so-casual tone of hers.

Mickey had heard it all before and wasn’t biting.  “No more than you do.”

“Well she was your snout originally, wasn’t she?”

“Yeah.”

“What sort of escort is she?”

He moved a little away.  “What do you mean?”  He could do casual too.  Only better.

“High class?  Pick ‘em off the street?  What?”

“Dunno.  High class, I fink.”

Debbie looked over his shoulder.  Woman always made a big deal over personal space but they weren’t shy about invading it when they thought they could get what they wanted.  “So what’s the DCI’s special interest in her case?”

“He hasn’t got one.”

“Come on, he’s not that usually hand-ons, is he?”

Mickey moved around to face her.  This was more than a fishing trip.  He sighed.  “You know, don’t you?”

A big ‘bingo’ light went on across her face.  “Come on, Mickey, dish the dirt.”

“Leave it out, sarge.”  But he knew the request was pointless.  “I ain’t saying nothing.”

“I saw them, kissing.”  She didn’t seem to need much of a response to gloat.  “I knew he was seeing someone, but a tom?”  She snorted, enjoying her secret.  “How long’s that been going on for?”

Mickey was close to loosing his patience.  “I told you, I’m keeping schtum.”

Debbie couldn’t contain her joy.  “Poor old Jack…”

Mickey looked up from his file.  “You ain’t gonna say anything to him, are you?”  He asked.  If Jack found out she knew, he’d assume Mickey was the source of that information.  “I’m in enough trouble as it is.”

She put her face up close to his.  “Maybe.”  She said, “maybe not.”

Mickey sighed and decided the day really couldn’t get any worse.

 

***

 

Oh but it had, hadn’t it?

His wrists were nearly free now, slicked by his sweat and beads of blood seeping through his abraded skin.

It was getting darker.  How long had he been here?

And colder.

 

***

 

It got worse.  The courier delivered a small brown packet to Mickey who tossed it on his desk and had a cup of coffee before he returned to open it.  He pulled out the contents and saw his notebook.  And a piece of paper with a short message written in red felt tip pen -

YOU SHOULD BE MORE CAREFUL DC WEBB

REGARDS

MARTIN DELANEY

XX

He felt a chill run through him.  More paranoia?

“Everything all right?”

Jack’s voice sounded at his ear and he held out his notebook.  “That just came by courier.  It’s my notebook – from Delaney.”

Jack took the book and letter.  “Well how did he get it?”

“I’ve no idea.  Maybe he got it when he smashed the motor up.”

Jack read the words.  Mickey found the kisses disturbing.  “What’s he playing at?”

“Hang on; I’m sure I’ve used that.”  Mickey frowned.  “After he smashed the car up.”  He shrugged.  “Well, I might have dropped it or something.”

Jack looked at him.  “Or maybe he’s following you.”

Mickey felt cold, walked around the DCI.  “He’s trying to mess with my head, ain't he?”

“Still don’t think it’s personal?”

Mickey looked at his governor and was surprised to see the concern there.  “He’s a nutter and the sooner he’s in the nick the happier I’ll be.”  He tossed his notebook down.  “I’m gonna get on to those credit card companies.”

“Good idea.”

 

***

 

It was nearly five in the afternoon before he got the call he was waiting for.  Mickey thanked the guy he was talking to and shoved his mobile back into his pocket.  The DCI was by his desk when he went to grab his jean jacket.

“Did you get a result?”  Jack asked.

“Delaney used a stolen credit card at Larkmead Station.”  Mickey told him, shrugging into his jacket.  “He bought a ticket.”

“Right.  Get down there.  Talk to the sales clerk.  Find out what train he’s on and call it back in.”

Mickey nodded, “this could be it, guv.”

He hurried down the stairs and out of the nick, feeling the hum of adrenaline through his veins.  Catching Delaney probably wouldn’t heal the rift between him and Jack, but it might go some way to patching it over.  He could work on the rest later.

He respected Meadows far too much not too.

The home going traffic wasn’t as bad as he expected and he got to the station within an hour.  Finding a parking space proved more difficult, but when one became available, it was right outside.

The woman behind the desk was bottle blonde and a little ‘well covered’ as his mum liked to say.  She smiled sweetly at him; fancying her chances and told him her name was Paula.  She left him stone cold, but he kept up the conversation as she sorted through credit slips.

“’Ere it is.”  She held out the small PDQ carbon copy.  “That’d be a single to Watford Junction.”

“When’s the next train?”

“Seven forty three.”  She snorted.  “Don’t expect it to be on time, though.”

“Cheers.” 

He hurried out the station, dialling his mobile as he walked.  He was almost at his car when he heard Jack answer.

“Guv, its Mickey.”  He said.  “Delaney brought a ticket for the 7:43 to Watford Junction.”

“Well done, Mickey.”  There was a hiss on the line.  “M…key?  You’re br….ng up.”

Mickey covered his free ear, trying to blot out the sounds of the traffic.  “Ay?”

“You’ve got….an hour so stay put…..plainclothes…come and give you a hand.”

“Listen, guv, the signal’s dodgy.  I can’t hear you properly.”

“Mr Webb!”

Mickey looked up at the yell.  Across the street stood Delaney, smile on his face, brazen as anything.  Mickey broke into a run the same moment as Delaney, who disappeared around the corner and into the Larkmead industrial estate.

“Hey!”  Mickey yelled, as he pounded after him, into the alleys between the huge buildings.  The warehouses by the station were mostly empty, abandoned years ago.  The only thing they housed these days were druggies and prostitutes.  The alleyways between were narrow and overgrown, interconnected.

“Hey!” Racing around a corner, he almost lost Delaney, then saw a flash of movement in the doorway of an empty warehouse.  He was up the step in a second.

Inside, it was dark and quiet.  The silence was broken only by the drip of water through the holes in the roof. Mickey looked around, seeing nothing but the rubbish left behind when the place was abandoned.  The huge space was sectioned with clear plastic blinds, like the kind found in industrial refrigeration units and there were metal shelving units and some tables still there.

Mickey got out his phone, but the signal failed and the mobile bleeped pathetically at him.  “Oh, come on…” 

He needed back-up.

He needed to get Delaney.

There was a noise ahead of him and he walked further into the warehouse, scanning the darkness for movement. 

“There’s no where to go now, Delaney.”  He called out.

No answer.  He moved around to shelves and rubbish, knowing that was big enough to hide someone as large as Delaney.

Something clanged behind him, like metal against metal.  Mickey turned and saw Delaney coming up behind him.  He tensed immediately into a defensive posture, ready for anything.

“I thought I made it clear.”  Delaney said as he walked towards Mickey.  “I’m never going back to prison.”

Mickey watched his movements closely.  “S’bit late for that now, ain’t it?”

Delaney chuckled.

“Something funny?”

“You shouldn’t have said those things to my mother.”  Delaney told him. “You really upset her.”

Mickey was beginning to wish he had his ASP.  “Truth hurts, doesn’t it?”

“She’s been through a lot recently.”  Delaney sounded so normal, like this was an every day conversation, slowly coming forward all the time.  “She had cancer.  It’s not nice to watch your own mother go through that.”

“Shut up!”  Mickey didn’t like thinking of that lonely old lady.  He wanted Delaney in cuffs.  And in the nick.  “This is over now.”  Delaney had moved around now, standing behind a table.  “Keep your hands where I can see ‘em as well.  Hands where I can see ‘em!”

And he did see them - moving in a blur, something heavy in their grip.  He heard the sickening thud of the spade against his skull a millisecond before the pain exploded across his face.  He stumbled back, trying, trying, trying to stay on his feet.  Stay in the moment.

Then he collapsed, cold hard floor coming up to meet him.

He saw Delaney over him and then everything went black.

 

***

 

Consciousness returned slowly, and more as an awareness of discomfort than anything tangible.  There was something hard pressing against his stomach, the edge of which was digging into his hip bones.  It was solid beneath his cheek, hard against his jawbone and his arms felt wrong, like they shouldn’t be where they were.  His legs felt oddly numb, like he’d been sitting on them for a long time and the circulation had stalled, but he knew the ground was still beneath his feet, even if it felt like he was lying.

There was a scraping noise in the background, pulling him awake and when he opened his eyes he saw rope being wound around a vice.  The dull metal scraping and clanking as it was turned, the bar slide up and cranked further around.  That was when the pain in his wrist registered and the rope had context.

He was bound face down on a table, tied by the wrists, arms spread out either side of him.  He braced his feet on the floor and pushed up.  He succeeded only in wrenching his shoulder painfully.

“Welcome back, DC Webb.”  Delaney said.  “For a moment there, I thought you were going to miss the best part.”

He looked up at the bastard, but with his face pressed against the table; Mickey could only see him at the corner of his eyes.  “Wh-what are you doing to me?”

He smiled and wound the vice tighter.  “Just making you a little more comfortable.” 

Mickey twisted and pulled but the ropes held firm.

Delaney came round.  “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again, DC Webb.”  He leaned over his captive.  “Or should I call you Mickey?”

Mickey struggled hard against the bindings, thumping and rebounding on the table.  The hard surface dug into his ribs.  “Whatever you’re gonna do, you’re not gonna get away with it, Delaney!”  He yelled, hearing the panic in his own voice.

Mickey’s phone rang.  He felt Delaney slide his fingers into his back pocket, almost like a caress, and tugged the phone out.  He looked at the mobile.

“We don’t want any interruptions now, do we?”  He dropped the phone on the floor.  Then he stamped on it.  “Whoops.”

“I’ve already radioed my position.”  Mickey bluffed desperately.  “There’s gonna be police swarming around here any minute.”

Delaney held his hands up and looked around.  “I can’t hear anything can you?”

“They’ll be here, I promise you.”  There were tears in his eyes and more fear than he’d ever felt in his life. 

“Oh you seem very certain.”

“Wait, wait, wait!”  He yelled, buying time.  “What’ve we got on you, ay?”  His heart was racing but he was still thinking.  “An assault… a theft?”

“First it was Rachel, then it was the lovely Jane.”  Delaney taunted.  “Well now it’s your turn.”

Mickey struggled harder than ever, tugging against the restrains, giving into panic.

He stalked around behind Mickey.  “I’ve been thinking of you, Mickey.”

“If you do anything to a copper, they’re gonna put you away, forever and ever.”  He was crying now.  “I promise you.  I promise you that.”

Delaney began stripping down his jeans and Mickey screwed his eyes shut tight. 

“Know what I’m gonna do to you, Mickey?  Have you guessed yet?”

“Get away from me, you bastard!”

His underwear followed and he heard Delaney fumbling with his own clothes.

This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening.

“I’m gonna do your arse.  You’re gonna be screaming.”

Mickey kicked out behind him but the ropes held him firm and he with his jeans down around his knees, he wasn’t able to put any power behind the kicks. 

“You’re gonna bleed for me too.”  Delaney gloated.  “You gonna enjoy that?”

Mickey felt the touch of warm skin to his own, his legs forced apart.  He was sobbing hard now, in a panic.

“You shouldn’t have come after me, Mickey.  You shouldn’t have upset my mother.”

 

***

 

His hands at last pulled free and he slide down the table and onto the floor.  The pain at the base of his spine spiked on contact with the hard ground and he sobbed, crying out.  He lay like that for long moments.

Then Mickey forced himself up into a sitting position, pulled his legs up to his body and wrapped his arms around his knees.  His head ached from the blow and he was shaking so hard, as much from the cold as the shock.  He could hear his own breathing.

Time passed.  He wasn’t sure how much.

Then in the distance, he heard something.

“Mickey!” 

It sounded like his name.

He didn’t answer.

 

To be continued…here

 

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