Alex had told Gene she was just going back to the flat for a change of clothes since her attire had been splattered with a suspect's blood when Gene and the team decided to take a few pot-shots- he'd never been a fan of nonces. In fact the blood almost looked fashionable in a crazy 80's way; it didn't bother Alex really, in truth she just couldn't bear to tell him why she'd gone.
She unlocked the door and he was there waiting, sprawled across the cheap, fake leather settee. His boots squeaked as he stood, the gun in his hand clicking lightly as the safety catch was released. Arthur Layton- at last.
"Alex Drake."
"Well I never thought I would be glad to see you Layton."
"Come on now Alex- you knew it ends with me. Always was gunna be me. What your dad wanted, wasn't it Alex?"
"So it would seem."
He walked round the coffee table; lifting the gun he twirled it through her curls almost lovingly, if Arthur Layton had the ability to be loving.
"It's a shame that Alex. My offer from the scrubs still stands- you and me, could be great together Alex."
"Strangely Layton I don't usually go for murdering bastards."
"Perhaps you should tell D.C.I 'unt that."
Not Gene. She couldn't talk about Gene now.
"Just do what you came here to do Layton. Finish the job you've been dying, or should I say living to do, then we can both have peace."
"Fine, Alex." He whispered it into her ear then pulled away, she sucked in a sharp breath as the cold metal touched her temple. That's when Layton fired at Alex Drake for the second time.