The Truth Between Us
By: Olivia
"I bet you never thought I'd be sitting on this side of the table in the box."
I look up at the sound of his voice with a cool, measured stare. I'm sizing him up, trying to get a read on him, looking for subtle non-verbal cues. I'm looking for an opening, a weakness, as I would any murderer whom I was trying to get a confession out of. But the murderer has already confessed his sin to me. And this is no ordinary murderer. This is Tim Bayliss. This is my partner.
"This is all my fault," I find myself saying calmly, but inside I feel sick as if someone has kicked me right in the stomach. What I wouldn't give for a cigarette right now! In a world full of criminals, in a world full of hate, I always thought Tim would be there balancing the side of good against evil. And in his own heart, he has.
Tim's brows furrow in confusion. "What are you talking about? This isn't your fault. I shot Luke Ryland. End of story-well for him any way."
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I get up stretching my legs. I look around the box and remember how much I use to love this little square room. I was the king of the box. I was the sweet talking salesman selling life sentences to people who had no desire for them. I've spent hours, days in this room. It was almost like a second home. Now I feel claustrophobic, trapped. The walls are closing in. Tim and I use to be on the same side of this table.
I walk over to the mirror. Looking into it, I can see Tim sitting at the table. His clothes are disheveled and his rough beard is showing premature signs of gray. His stares at me with red-rimmed eyes. I have seen him lost before, but never this lost. Even then, even back then I wasn't there for him which is why he pushed me a way and didn't want to be my partner for a time. I have never been there for him. When Tim needed me emotionally, I was never there. I kept him at a distance-always. My only partner, my only friend. And yet whenever I needed someone, when I had my stroke, when Mary left me for a time, he was always there by my side. Even when I didn't want his help, he knew I needed it and he was there for me. When I hesitated to shoot that guy, Tim did what any good partner would have done. He watched my back. He took a bullet for me. He nearly died because of me, because of my hesitation. Now Tim needs me again. All he wanted was my forgiveness, my understanding, my...and I just can't give it to him.
I turn around and look at Tim. He's still watching me. He's still waiting for me to speak. I wish Danvers would come back into the box and interrupt us. But he, from what I gather, is shouldering his own guilt at Tim shooting Ryland. It was his mistake that allowed Ryland to walk free. And Tim would have never shot Ryland had he been kept where he belonged-in jail. Even though Tim has waived his right to counsel, Danvers has refused to question him until his union lawyer arrives.
As painful as it is to speak, as easy as it would be to keep Tim at arm's length once again, I finally give voice to my thoughts. "This is all my fault because I've never been there for you as I should have."
Tim looks down at his hands resting on the table. Quietly he says, "My killing Luke Ryland had nothing to do with you. I had to stop him. I had to stop him before he killed more innocent women."
I shake my head. "Had I still been your partner, this never would have happened."
Tim looks up at me incredulously. "I told you this has nothing to do with you."
"It has everything to do with me!" My voice reverberates in the room and I am surprised at all this anger that had been quietly building up in me. "How could you do this, Tim? How could you ruin your life like this? You said I see things in black and white, right and wrong, that I don't see the gray areas. Killing is wrong, Tim. Yes, maybe you saved innocent women by killing Ryland. But you gave up your soul. In killing Ryland, you became him. You became as cold and merciless as he was. That is why you can't reconcile this in your head. You know that killing is wrong. You're the murder police. You should know better. You shouldn't become emotionally involved in your cases."
Tim looks at me with such sad, lonely, devastated eyes. I see it all there. I see all the pain he has carried through his life. I see how utterly lost and rudderless he is. I see how he came to me, hoping for forgiveness, for understanding, for acceptance, for love and all I've done is curse at him. I see how I could have taken away some of this pain, how I could have helped Tim just by being there for him, by letting him in. I've let my partner down. I've let my friend down.
The guilt eats at my heart. I feel so utterly devastated that the person I've looked to, trusted, and respected has sunk so low. His life, his career are ruined all by one act. It's like the tapestry of his life that had been frayed around the edges, although it still held together, has completely become unraveled. And if that wasn't enough, I'm powerless to fix it. I'm powerless to save my friend. The hurt is deep, deeper than I ever thought possible.
Tim opens his mouth to reply, but then thinking, closes it. He has no idea what to say to me. He knows I would save him if I could. He knows I can't reconcile my image of the good, sensitive Tim Bayliss with the one that sits before me-a stone cold killer.
I realize in an instant, that he is trying to save himself. He's trying to save himself from killing himself. He had said he would eat his gun if left alone. I realize how much murdering Ryland, however justified he feels about it, is slowing killing him inside. Inside Tim Bayliss is still the good, sensitive man I've always known. He just lost his way. I never fully realized how much I meant to him, how much he had come to depend on me, albeit however distant I kept him. I abandoned him, just as so many others have done in the past. I left him to recover on that hospital bed having taken the bullet for me. I left him there and spoke to him what, twice in a year? Hiding the friendship I feel for him from him has all lead to this. He should have felt he could have come to me with this. That he could have told me that he was thinking about killing Ryland. But he didn't, because I was too busy with my new life as a teacher, with my family, to think that Tim might need me. I should have been there for him.
We both look up at the sound of the door being opened. Tim's lawyer has arrived.
"I hope you haven't been questioning my client," the lawyer says in a slightly menacing tone honed after years of dealing with cops stretching the boundaries of their professional limits.
I just shake my head and quietly say, "I'm a teacher. I'm not a Homicide detective any more."
I reach into my pocket and pull out Tim's detective shield. I feel the cold surface of it as I take a surprised Bayliss' hands and gently put the shield into them. "You've always been there for me, Tim. I'm sorry I haven't been there for you. But I'm here now. I'm going to be right outside."
Tim is surprised. But in his eyes there's something more there. There's gratitude, and love. I step outside of the box into the main Homicide squad room leaving Tim in the hands of what Ed assures us is a good lawyer.
Ed is sitting at a desk. His shoulders are slumped at the weight he is carrying there. He is talking quietly to a concerned Kay. She's rubbing his back and they are lost in their own world right now. I look over to Meldrick's desk. His feet are propped up. He looks lost. Not as lost as Tim, but lost as well. I think a part of each detective dies when they have to bring one of their own in. Lewis looks up at me and nods his head. I return the acknowledgment. I know they will all do what they can for Tim.
Everyone else I know is still at the Waterfront, less than sober, trying to deal with the double tragedy of Gee's death and Tim's confession. I need to be alone right now. I moved into the empty aquarium and take a seat.
I've always been the consummate loner. Seven years ago I never wanted a partner. Seven years ago I never wanted to let Tim Bayliss into my life. But he came into my life and I realize that I'm the better for it. I only hope it's not too late to let him know how much his friendship has meant to me.
The End
"Every murderer is probably somebody's old friend."-Agatha Christie-"The Mysterious Affairs at Styles"
"Thy friendship oft has made my heart to ache."-William Blake-"Manuscript Notebook"
"There is not refuge from confession but suicide, and suicide is confession"-Daniel Webster
By: Olivia
"I bet you never thought I'd be sitting on this side of the table in the box."
I look up at the sound of his voice with a cool, measured stare. I'm sizing him up, trying to get a read on him, looking for subtle non-verbal cues. I'm looking for an opening, a weakness, as I would any murderer whom I was trying to get a confession out of. But the murderer has already confessed his sin to me. And this is no ordinary murderer. This is Tim Bayliss. This is my partner.
"This is all my fault," I find myself saying calmly, but inside I feel sick as if someone has kicked me right in the stomach. What I wouldn't give for a cigarette right now! In a world full of criminals, in a world full of hate, I always thought Tim would be there balancing the side of good against evil. And in his own heart, he has.
Tim's brows furrow in confusion. "What are you talking about? This isn't your fault. I shot Luke Ryland. End of story-well for him any way."
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I get up stretching my legs. I look around the box and remember how much I use to love this little square room. I was the king of the box. I was the sweet talking salesman selling life sentences to people who had no desire for them. I've spent hours, days in this room. It was almost like a second home. Now I feel claustrophobic, trapped. The walls are closing in. Tim and I use to be on the same side of this table.
I walk over to the mirror. Looking into it, I can see Tim sitting at the table. His clothes are disheveled and his rough beard is showing premature signs of gray. His stares at me with red-rimmed eyes. I have seen him lost before, but never this lost. Even then, even back then I wasn't there for him which is why he pushed me a way and didn't want to be my partner for a time. I have never been there for him. When Tim needed me emotionally, I was never there. I kept him at a distance-always. My only partner, my only friend. And yet whenever I needed someone, when I had my stroke, when Mary left me for a time, he was always there by my side. Even when I didn't want his help, he knew I needed it and he was there for me. When I hesitated to shoot that guy, Tim did what any good partner would have done. He watched my back. He took a bullet for me. He nearly died because of me, because of my hesitation. Now Tim needs me again. All he wanted was my forgiveness, my understanding, my...and I just can't give it to him.
I turn around and look at Tim. He's still watching me. He's still waiting for me to speak. I wish Danvers would come back into the box and interrupt us. But he, from what I gather, is shouldering his own guilt at Tim shooting Ryland. It was his mistake that allowed Ryland to walk free. And Tim would have never shot Ryland had he been kept where he belonged-in jail. Even though Tim has waived his right to counsel, Danvers has refused to question him until his union lawyer arrives.
As painful as it is to speak, as easy as it would be to keep Tim at arm's length once again, I finally give voice to my thoughts. "This is all my fault because I've never been there for you as I should have."
Tim looks down at his hands resting on the table. Quietly he says, "My killing Luke Ryland had nothing to do with you. I had to stop him. I had to stop him before he killed more innocent women."
I shake my head. "Had I still been your partner, this never would have happened."
Tim looks up at me incredulously. "I told you this has nothing to do with you."
"It has everything to do with me!" My voice reverberates in the room and I am surprised at all this anger that had been quietly building up in me. "How could you do this, Tim? How could you ruin your life like this? You said I see things in black and white, right and wrong, that I don't see the gray areas. Killing is wrong, Tim. Yes, maybe you saved innocent women by killing Ryland. But you gave up your soul. In killing Ryland, you became him. You became as cold and merciless as he was. That is why you can't reconcile this in your head. You know that killing is wrong. You're the murder police. You should know better. You shouldn't become emotionally involved in your cases."
Tim looks at me with such sad, lonely, devastated eyes. I see it all there. I see all the pain he has carried through his life. I see how utterly lost and rudderless he is. I see how he came to me, hoping for forgiveness, for understanding, for acceptance, for love and all I've done is curse at him. I see how I could have taken away some of this pain, how I could have helped Tim just by being there for him, by letting him in. I've let my partner down. I've let my friend down.
The guilt eats at my heart. I feel so utterly devastated that the person I've looked to, trusted, and respected has sunk so low. His life, his career are ruined all by one act. It's like the tapestry of his life that had been frayed around the edges, although it still held together, has completely become unraveled. And if that wasn't enough, I'm powerless to fix it. I'm powerless to save my friend. The hurt is deep, deeper than I ever thought possible.
Tim opens his mouth to reply, but then thinking, closes it. He has no idea what to say to me. He knows I would save him if I could. He knows I can't reconcile my image of the good, sensitive Tim Bayliss with the one that sits before me-a stone cold killer.
I realize in an instant, that he is trying to save himself. He's trying to save himself from killing himself. He had said he would eat his gun if left alone. I realize how much murdering Ryland, however justified he feels about it, is slowing killing him inside. Inside Tim Bayliss is still the good, sensitive man I've always known. He just lost his way. I never fully realized how much I meant to him, how much he had come to depend on me, albeit however distant I kept him. I abandoned him, just as so many others have done in the past. I left him to recover on that hospital bed having taken the bullet for me. I left him there and spoke to him what, twice in a year? Hiding the friendship I feel for him from him has all lead to this. He should have felt he could have come to me with this. That he could have told me that he was thinking about killing Ryland. But he didn't, because I was too busy with my new life as a teacher, with my family, to think that Tim might need me. I should have been there for him.
We both look up at the sound of the door being opened. Tim's lawyer has arrived.
"I hope you haven't been questioning my client," the lawyer says in a slightly menacing tone honed after years of dealing with cops stretching the boundaries of their professional limits.
I just shake my head and quietly say, "I'm a teacher. I'm not a Homicide detective any more."
I reach into my pocket and pull out Tim's detective shield. I feel the cold surface of it as I take a surprised Bayliss' hands and gently put the shield into them. "You've always been there for me, Tim. I'm sorry I haven't been there for you. But I'm here now. I'm going to be right outside."
Tim is surprised. But in his eyes there's something more there. There's gratitude, and love. I step outside of the box into the main Homicide squad room leaving Tim in the hands of what Ed assures us is a good lawyer.
Ed is sitting at a desk. His shoulders are slumped at the weight he is carrying there. He is talking quietly to a concerned Kay. She's rubbing his back and they are lost in their own world right now. I look over to Meldrick's desk. His feet are propped up. He looks lost. Not as lost as Tim, but lost as well. I think a part of each detective dies when they have to bring one of their own in. Lewis looks up at me and nods his head. I return the acknowledgment. I know they will all do what they can for Tim.
Everyone else I know is still at the Waterfront, less than sober, trying to deal with the double tragedy of Gee's death and Tim's confession. I need to be alone right now. I moved into the empty aquarium and take a seat.
I've always been the consummate loner. Seven years ago I never wanted a partner. Seven years ago I never wanted to let Tim Bayliss into my life. But he came into my life and I realize that I'm the better for it. I only hope it's not too late to let him know how much his friendship has meant to me.
The End
"Every murderer is probably somebody's old friend."-Agatha Christie-"The Mysterious Affairs at Styles"
"Thy friendship oft has made my heart to ache."-William Blake-"Manuscript Notebook"
"There is not refuge from confession but suicide, and suicide is confession"-Daniel Webster