Hello! First Ashes to Ashes fanfic and my first fanfic for a long long time. I don't own the characters – they are property of the Beeb etc. First chapter of what I am hoping is a nice lengthy story. Hope you enjoy!
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Blood covered the pewter-grey carpet and the pastel blue wall, the still-wet crimson droplets spread out in the typical high-velocity spatter pattern that one sees in gunshot cases, holes from the buckshot visible in the plaster under the bloody wall. DCI Gene Hunt stood over the gory mess; an unlit cigarette dangling precariously from his lips as he surveyed the crime scene before him, his expression unreadable. He was vaguely aware of his DI, Alex Drake, talking just behind his left shoulder; something about a shotgun, but Gene wasn't listening to her.
"Bast'id" He growled as he reached into the pocket of his black wool overcoat for his silver Zippo.
"Beg Pardon?" Replied Alex, having just been cut off mid-sentence. She peered at him closely, her head tilted to the side and her hands resting lightly on her hips. Alex pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow, waiting for an answer.
"I said 'Bast'id'!" Gene replied loudly, glancing back over his shoulder at the Detective Inspector before flicking open his Zippo and lighting the cigarette that had been in great danger of falling to the ground for a good few minutes. Inhaling deeply, he turned around fully to meet Alex's eyes and looked pointedly at her. Alex frowned.
"Yes, I'm aware what you said, I was referring to..."
"Well then what the hell did you ask for, then?" Gene said impatiently, cutting Alex off once again. She hated it when he did that. "Bloody Wimmin!" He added as he pushed past her and walked away from the blood-stained floor.
The blood had belonged to forty-eight year old bank clerk, June Miller who was currently in the hospital suffering from a shotgun inflicted wound to the right arm. Thankfully, she was going to be fine. Unfortunately, in addition to shooting Mrs Miller the bank robbers had walked away with a quarter of a million pounds and trashed the bank, shooting at just about everything. All glass was shattered and the walls were peppered with the circular spread of buckshot. Gene knew who had done this job, but proving it was going to be tough. Very tough.
"What???" Alex's voice cut shrilly through his thoughts and Gene cringed inwardly, aware of the woman picking her way over the glass-strewn carpet behind him, her boots crunching on it loudly. Gene ignored her; instead he motioned to DS Carling and DC Skelton, who were both over the far side of the room taking statements from shaken bank staff. They scurried quickly to his side and followed him as he exited the bank and crossed the street swiftly to reach the Quattro, leaning casually on the roof of the driver's side as he waited for Drake to catch up, almost grinning with amusement at the annoyed expression on her face.
"Bobby Graham," He announced, taking a long draw on his cigarette as the team assembled around the car. Ray and Chris glanced at each other, a knowing look passing between them, whilst Alex shook her head in confusion.
"Guv?" Ray asked, inviting Gene to elaborate. And elaborate, Gene did.
"I want his bollocks on a plate! Him and all his trigger happy mates! This has Graham's M.O all over it – I want everything done properly. Comprendez?". He glanced from Ray to Chris and then to Alex, who was still looking confused. Giving a satisfied nod, Gene opened the car door and prepared to swing himself inside, until Alex stopped him with a wave of her hand.
"Wait, wait," she let out a short laugh, rubbing her forehead tiredly with her forefinger. "Who is Bobby Graham and why do you have him pinned for this?".
Gene halted in his process of sitting down in the driver's seat of the Quattro. Chris and Ray looked at each other again then made a dive for the car, scooting past Alex and bundling themselves into the back seat as Gene hauled himself upright again and fixed Alex with a steely gaze across the car roof.
"Bobby Graham," Gene began slowly, his voice reflecting the sheer contempt he was feeling. "Is rotten Southern bastard scum. Pulled a job like this about a month before you arrived Bolly. Exactly the same – four men armed with shotguns, faces covered with balaclavas, shot up a bank and wounded two clerks. We only collared him because somebody squealed," Gene paused, simultaneously rubbing his own forehead and inhaling deeply on the cigarette that was now little more than a stub. "Snout was killed hours after Graham and his gang made bail – throat was slit and body was dumped outside the station. They got away with the robbery; we couldn't make anything stick," Gene took a last drag on his cigarette before flicking it away and prepared to get back into the car.
"Hang on," Alex said, her brow furrowing. Gene stopped again and raised his eyebrows questioningly. "They got away with it? What happened to the money?"
Gene twisted his face. "Never found it, Bolly. It disappeared without a trace," he replied, finally dropping himself into the seat, slotting the key into the ignition and turning it. The Quattro roared into life. Alex glanced back at the bank and bit her lip. If Graham got away with it last time, what chance did they have with getting them this time? A sharp bang on the roof of the Quattro gave her a start and she looked into the car to find all three men staring at her. "What are you waiting for Posh Kecks? Get in the bloody car!".