Author's note: Elizabeth George and the BBC own these characters but I do enjoy borrowing them once in a while. My Tommy and Barbara are most definitely basedon the BBC series.
Detective Inspector Thomas Lynley and Sergeant Barbara Havers were huddled over the confused mass of papers spread before them on the floor of his apartment. The evisceration of an actress in the dressing room of a West End theatre had been particularly gruesome. The case was getting to them as they knew it had the hallmarks of a potential serial killer. They had worked on this for almost two weeks and although they had interviewed over twenty potential suspects and followed numerous leads they doubted they were any closer to solving it. Time was running out to find the murderer before he, or she, struck again.
"So we agree; Barton or Thornley are the two most likely suspects."
"Yes," Barbara answered, thinking how tired her boss sounded. His handsome patrician face was drawn and the frown lines were starting to become permanent. The soft folds of his hair had deepened into channels where he constantly ran his fingers through it. He was pushing himself too hard again. She could see the signs and was worried. He was still every inch the eye-catching aristocrat, holding himself straight and exuding a strength that Havers only ever saw in toffs. It used to annoy her beyond words and she had often wanted to scream at him to relax and take the rod out of his back and be human. But she knew after working with him for almost nine years that this was him being human. He cared about the victim and the best way to show it was to find the perpetrator.
Lynley got up and strolled to his sideboard. Turning, he asked "Another drink?"
"No, I'm good Sir."
He sighed inwardly. She was sitting on the floor of his lounge room and still calling him "Sir". It annoyed him that she would never call him Tommy, even when they were alone. He realised it was just her way of ensuring everything stayed professional and grounded in her own reality. She still struggled with the fact he was Lord Lynley, 8th Earl of Asherton, but at least after working together so long she no longer resented him for it; just as he had adjusted to her sometimes puritanical version of working class ethics.
"But both can account for where they were when she was murdered and we have no way to link them to the crime scene." He almost spat the words in exasperation.
"Let's go over it again Sir, we must have missed something."
An hour later as the clock approached Thursday Barbara moved to the couch. She was trying desperately to stay awake because she knew he would not sleep and she felt obliged to run the course with him. She refused to let him think she was the weaker link in their partnership. Even after so long together she felt she needed to prove herself to Tommy, for in her head he was always Tommy.
Tommy glanced over and knew Barbara was out on her feet. She had barely any sleep last night and now was trying her hardest to stay awake. Be fair, she needs to sleep, he chastised himself. He knew he should send her home but it was too late really to trust a cab and he had drunk a few too many whiskies to drive. She had stayed before when they were working late on cases so tonight would be no different.
"Ok Barbara, let's take a break and just think about it for a while," he said gently.
"Righto Sir," she almost sighed with relief.
"Are you cold? I'll go and fetch some blankets." Tommy got up and went upstairs. He figured he would put a blanket over her then go to bed. They could continue in the morning. When he got back Barbara was snoring gently. She looked so peaceful that he wanted to stay and listen to the rhythm of her breathing rather than go upstairs to his room to be alone with his thoughts and memories. He laid the blanket over her and sat on the floor beneath where she was curled and draped the rest of the blanket over his shoulders and arms and felt himself start to doze.
"No Tommy we don't have time for that," Barbara giggled, startling Tommy awake. He struggled briefly to gain his equilibrium. A quick glance at the box under the television told him it was almost 2am, so they must have been asleep for a bit over an hour. Then it struck him – she had called him 'Tommy', that was what had disturbed him. He had rarely heard her say that before but he liked it - if only she would call him that when she was conscious. He was also quite curious what they didn't have time for in her dream.
Then she said it again but more insistently this time, "Tommy, we don't have time!"
Lynley suddenly leapt up pulling the blanket and shaking Barbara awake. "Barbara, Barbara you are right – Thornley didn't have time to get back to the theatre!"
He was so happy to finally have a lead he could have kissed her. Well actually that was probably an excuse, he had wanted to kiss her for weeks, and months even. They were friends and in a good place right now. Things were calm between them, well relatively anyway, and he knew she would freak out completely at the thought that he was even considering something more.
They spend the rest of the night careful tracing Thornley's movements from witness statements and comparing them to his statement. If what he said was true then he had less than five minutes to make it from his home near Grosvenor Square to the theatre in Aldwych on foot, which would be impossible. It would take about half an hour to walk and even if he ran it would still take too long. They took the Bristol and drove the route looking for possible short cuts or places that he could have been picked up in a car. By 6 am they were in the office trolling through CCTV footage looking for traces of him and found none. But they did find him entering the theatre an hour before; it appeared he never left. Why didn't anyone notice this before? Lynley was fuming that it had been missed but agreed with Barbara that it was more important that they knew it now. By noon Thornley had been arrested and charged. By the evening, after being confronted with the facts and being outsmarted by the two detectives at every turn in the long interrogation, he finally confessed to the murder.
Lynley and Havers left the interview room and she slumped against the door in relief. They had done it again; found the killer in a case many had given up hope of ever solving. She knew from the look on his face he was also relieved and proud. His public school upbringing often made him look superior. Those who did not know him as well as she did would assume his face showed arrogant self-satisfaction and too much belief in his abilities. She knew however how insecure in himself he was underneath that stiff upper-class lip but he did have a talent for policing that exceeded any other officer she had ever met. His instincts constantly amazed her and she knew his expression was a passion for justice for victims and pride in being able to put Thornley away for a very long time.
He looked at her and smiled. As with most cases she had been vital in ferreting out the answer even if this time it came from whatever she was dreaming about him. His curiosity piqued again but he knew better than to spoil the mood by asking. Instead he simply said, "Fancy a pint and something to eat? The paperwork can wait until tomorrow."
Half an hour later they were sitting in the local pub. As usual Barbara ordered a bowl of chips and smothered it in tomato sauce and salt. Lynley looked at it in mock disgust reminding her, yet again, that she should look after herself better. "If you have a heart attack, how am I going to find the bad guys Havers?" It had become a standard line over the years and was always answered by Barbara shrugging and pulling a face at him.
Over the chips and two pints they went over the case and interview again, basking slightly in the pleasure of how they had caught Thornley. Barbara yawned and Tommy knew it was time to call it a night. He would desperately like to ask her back to his house but that would seem odd to her and tonight was definitely not the night to make declarations of undying love. A strange look came over her face and at first he thought his face must have betrayed his thoughts.
"What's wrong Barbara?" he asked alarmed.
"Oh nothing really Sir, but I can't remember where my car is."
Tommy laughed, partly with relief but also because it summed up the craziness of the last few days. He stood up and moved around behind her. His right hand was on her shoulder before he was aware of it and he bent down briefly and gently kissed the top of her head and reminded her ,"I picked you up on Tuesday morning from your place. I'll drive you home."
"It's ok Sir, I can take a cab."
"No Havers, I need to know you make it home safely, I'll drive." From his tone Barbara knew not to argue and so grabbed her coat and smiling softly said, "Thanks Sir that would be great."