Fight for your Right
Disclaimer: New Tricks belongs to the BBC, I'm just making sure they still work.
Set early in series 8.
This story was inspired by the epidode 'Gloves Off'
I started writing this story just after Christmas, but it ran out of steam, so I have re-written the end which I really wasn't happy with. I love reading reviews, they give me a warm cosy feeling, and let me know that people are actually reading my stories.
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Sandra sighed and threw the forensic report she was holding down on the table, she ran her fingers through her hair and looked at the board.
"Nothing! The DNA on the shirt was useless." She looked around at her 'boys' Jack sat with his head in his hands, Brian looked so deflated, and Gerry stalked around like a caged tiger. He puffed out his cheeks in frustration.
"There has to be something we've missed. A bloke doesn't go missing, only to turn up a year later, dead. Yet no-one has seen him in that time."
"It 'appens all the time. How many cases have we had like that." Brian argued.
"I know it happens. But not this time. We know where he was. That's what's cheesing me off." Gerry was getting pretty stoked up, Sandra touched his arm, he looked at her and smiled, "I know, I know. But it's just that we're so bloody close."
"It's frustrating, but we might have to admit that this one has got away." The door opened and DAC Robert Strickland came in.
"Brilliant!" Gerry muttered under his breath. Sandra shushed him.
"I just dropped by to see how things were going. And to bring you this." He handed Sandra a piece of a4 paper. She took it and scanned it before rolling her eyes in frustration.
"Coroner's report. Tox screen inconclusive."
"Another bloody dead end." Gerry shook his head. "I need coffee, anybody?"
"Please." Said Jack, standing and walking over to Gerry. "I'll give you a hand."
"Tea for me please." Brian said.
"Sandra?" Gerry held up her shark mug. She nodded. He put out the mugs and started to make the drinks, he heard Sandra clearing her throat and looked up questioningly. She inclined her head slightly towards their boss, who was stood with his back to them looking at the incident board. "Sir?"
Strickland looked round at him, Gerry held up a mug. The DAC looked mildly surprised to have been offered one.
"Oh, yes please. Coffee, black one sugar." He looked back to the board. "So fill me in."
Sandra explained. "Peter Reynolds, twenty two year old, mildly autistic, dissappeared from the home he shared with his parents on the ninth of June, two thousand and three. His body turned up thirteen months later on a rubbish tip, less than a mile from home. He had been dead less than a week. He had suffered a beating some hours before his death, but the apparent cause of death was drowning, but there was no water anywhere near where he was found. We've only got one sighting of him in those thirteen months which puts him here," She pointed to a map on the board, "This is the traveller's camp. A local woman saw Peter with some of the traveller's two months after he dissappeared. We've been to the camp, but .."
"They won't co-operate." Strickland finished nodding his head.
"Right. We have exhumed Peter's body and had a second post mortem done, nothing new. The physical evidence has been re-examined by the forensics lab, again nothing. I hate to say it Sir, but without the traveller's help, we've got nothing."
"You are sure of the sighting, it was definately our victim?"
"The witness recognised him from his photo. She was one hundred percent certain." Jack answered.
"What do we know about the camp, is it even the same group? We are talking about eight years ago." He asked.
"They are the same ones, been there about ten years in all. The locals don't like it, but they bought the ground, so can't be kicked off." Brian explained.
"The local coppers have been there a few times, there have been complaints of illegal fight meets. All complaints came to nothing, never any arrests. They are actually a pretty quiet bunch, keep themselves to themselves." Gerry added.
"OK." Strickland frowned and folded his arms across his chest. He thought for a moment before taking a drink of his coffee.
"Sir?" Sandra looked at him. She had rarely seen him this lost in thought. He looked up at her.
"You are sure that the travellers are key to this?"
"They know something, I got that much out of them." He paused for a moment.
"I may know a way to get them to co-operate."
"How?" She asked, suddenly worried. He stood and rinsed his mug. Then he turned back to Sandra.
"I need you to trust me, I need to borrow Gerry and Jack for a few hours." She was about to argue, he held up his hands. "I know what I'm doing, but I need you and Brian to wait half an hour, then follow us to the camp, wait just outside until I phone you. Be ready with the questions you need to ask." He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out his car keys, he handed them to Sandra. "We'll take Jack's car, you take mine."
"What's wrong with the stag?" Gerry asked, slightly offended.
"It's a soft top. Vulnerable to stanley knives, same as Sandra's. You only make that mistake once."
"What was it?" Jack asked.
"TVR Griffith 500. Ninety two plate, Midnight blue" Robert sighed. Gerry and Jack both winced. "It cost a bloody fortune to have it re-canvased."
"Nasty." Jack agreed. Robert nodded.
Sandra didn't like it, she knew from past experiences with Brian, Gerry and Jack that when she was excluded, it was usually because something dodgy was going on that she wouldn't like. But she couldn't image Strickland doing anything that wasn't in the rule book. She just had a bad feeling about this.
"Is this legal? Or am I going to regret it?" She questioned. Robert saw the worried look on her face.
"Just let me worry about that." He tried to reasure her. He nodded to Gerry and Jack. "Lets go. Remember, thirty minutes." He said to Sandra.
The three men left the office leaving Sandra and Brian alone. Sandra turned to her last remaining co-worker.
"You were very quiet, what do you think?"
"I think, I don't want to know." He said. Sandra nodded in agreement.
/
Robert, Gerry and Jack pulled out of the station car park, the three men traveled in silence for a while until Gerry couldn't stand it any longer.
"What's the plan, I mean no offence, but if we couldn't get them to talk to us, what makes you think they will talk to you, I mean you don't exactly come across as someone who's on their wavelength." Strickland smiled.
"You just have to find something we have in common." He paused, "And I think I may know what that might be. I could be wrong but I was reading through the Mother's statement which was on the board and something clicked." He pointed to a petrol station coming up. "Stop here, I need to use the cash machine."
"Are you going to share with us?" Jack asked. Giving his boss a sideways glance.
"It's probably better if you don't know, that way if this goes pear shaped, you can deny everything." He shrugged. Jack glanced at Gerry, a worried look on his face. After the stop, they travelled in silence until they reached the site they were looking for. Jack parked just inside the gateway and they all got out. Several youngsters, all in their early teens approached them, giving the car the once over. Strickland beckoned the tallest one over.
"Are you the oldest?" He asked. The youth nodded. "Then you're in charge." He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a twenty pound note. He ripped it in half, and gave one piece to the boy. "You get the other half if the car is untouched when we get back. Right." The boy nodded and sat himself down on the grass next to the car, pulling a pack of cards out of his back pocket. The other kids gathered round him as they started a game of poker. Strickland gestured for the other two men to follow him.
They were attracting all sorts of attention as they walked through the camp, though nobody approached them. Eventually they came across a group of three men, one was pounding a punchbag while the other two held it steady. An older man was sat watching them. They stopped and turned to face the trio of police.
"You think they know we're coppers?" Gerry asked sarcastically.
"It's a good bet." Jack answered.
"Jack, you open the conversation, tell them why we're here. Tell the other three to carry on, speak to the seated man. I want to watch for a minute." Robert whispered. Jack nodded, unsure of the younger man's plan, but willing to give anything a try.
"Morning." He said to the older man. He indecated to the other three men, "Please, don't let us interupt." The older man nodded at the three and they carried on training. "I was hoping you could help us. About eight years ago, a young man went missing, a year later he was found dead close by. We are trying to find out where he was in between." Jack put on his most aimiable face, but he had the feeling that really wasn't going to help.
"Sorry. Can't help you." He told them. His face set like stone.
"We have a photo, could you take a look?" Gerry asked, pulling the photo out of his jacket.
"I told you, the same as I told the other couple who came here two days ago, we can't help you." He repeated. Gerry looked at Jack in frustration.
"He's not bad. Needs some work on his guard though." Strickland interupted, the old man looked at him.
"He's one of the best. He could turn pro." He said. Strickland shook his head.
"Not yet. His left is lazy, he drops it and leaves himself open." The men had all turned and were staring at Strickland, the old man stood and approached him. Jack and Gerry were getting nervous.
"I think this might hurt." Gerry whispered to his comrade. Jack just nodded.
"What do you know?" The old man said, gruffley. Robert shrugged.
"I know I could take him." He said. The old man stared at him, then broke into a broad smile and started to laugh. The three other men all joined in with the joke. Robert just stood and watched, unconcerned.
"That's a good one! Cheered me up that did." He grinned.
"I'm serious." Robert replied, making the men pause mid laugh. "How about a wager. I've got two hundred and eighty pound in cash in my pocket. No rounds, first clean knock down wins. Trips and slips don't count, we're on grass and I'm wearing dress shoes. No interference from either my people or yours." He wandered over to the table and picked up the roll of tape and handed it to the older man. "Strapping or gloves, it's up to you." The old man looked at his younger companions, they were all nodding, smelling some easy money.
"Let me see the cash." He said. Robert pulled out the wad of notes he had drawn from the cash machine. He put them on the table. The old man looked at the half twenty which Robert put back in his pocket.
"For the car park attendant." Robert explained, earning a chuckle out of the man.
"Sam! You up for it?" He shouted at the youngest of the three men who already had his hands strapped and was reaching for a battered pair of boxing gloves. The man nodded, a greedy look in his eye.
"Fetch the man a pair of gloves." He told his henchmen, then he looked at the money. "We don't have that much cash in the camp." The old man told Robert. "We do have other items of value though..." Robert stopped him.
"If I win, you give us your full co-operation. Only on this case and you only have to speak to myself, either of these two, or the two who visited before. After we close this case, we leave and you never have to deal with us again." He held out his hand. The old man looked at it, then at the pile of cash. He took hold of Stricklands hand and gave it a firm shake.
"Done! Get yourself ready." He turned and conversed with his fighter as Robert stripped off his jacket and tie, he handed them to Jack who was staring at him open mouthed.
"Are you insane! He's built like a brick wall." He hissed, keeping his voice low.
"Not to mention about thirty years younger." Gerry added. "You're sure about this, because you know, I've done some pretty stupid things in the past, but taking on king kong's younger brother? I don't want to have to explain to Sandra why we're in A&E."
"Thank's for the vote of confidence." Robert deadpanned. "Just keep an eye on the others, and that cash. I was watching him, he's no where near ready to fight professionally. I wouldn't have suggested this if I didn't think I had a chance." He took off his dress shirt which he passed to Jack to hold, leaving just his white undershirt, then held out his hands as one of the men came over to tape up his hands.
"I've got a really bad feeling about this." Jack murmured. Gerry nodded.
"The Guv and Brian will be parked up by now. If that brute doesn't give Strickers a pounding, she will. You've got to give him ten out of ten for having brass balls though."
"He'll need them when Sandra get's wind of this. He looks in pretty good shape though."
"Yeah, considering he's nearly fifty." Gerry muttered.
The other men signalled they were ready, and the two fighters squared up to each other.
"Fight!" The old man shouted. And the young fighter started throwing punches wildly, Robert ducked and weaved, managing to avoid them, getting a few jabs into his ribs, and a couple to his chin. The older men started shouting orders to their man.
"Oi, no interference!" Gerry shouted. The old man nodded at his men and they quietened down. "If he gets caught with on of them, he's a gonner." Gerry whispered to Jack, who was looking concerned.
"He's doing a good job of wearing the bloke out." Jack observed. "Oh yes! that's sharp" As Robert managed to land a couple of hooks in quick succession, bloodying the mans nose. Enraged he came forward, Robert slipped momentarily on the wet grass, allowing the bigger man to land a jab, Robert almost managed to block it, but still ended up with a bloody nose and split lip. The man smelt victory and charged in, landing a glancing blow to Robert's temple, he didn't seem to notice and ducked inside delivering two quick left hooks and an almighty uppercut. The young fighter landed square on his backside, looking up at Robert in shock. Robert was puffing hard, but he reached his hand down to help the man up.
"Don't take it to heart. I've got thirty years of experience over you. Keep your left higher and tuck your chin in more. Keep your temper. And remember, don't judge an opponent by his looks." He pulled the gloves off and handed them to the still stunned fighter before gathering up his cash off the table. The other two men were standing either side of the older man, equally stunned. The old man had a wry grin on his face.
"Nice moves. You've boxed pro?" Robert shook his head.
"College, then army. Since then, just to keep fit." Robert looked at the old man. "I take it you are good for your promise?" The old man grinned,
"What if I'm not?"
"Then I over-estimated your sense of honour. And then I get this place raided and your lot here get charged with assaulting a police officer." Robert offered. The old man stared at him for a moment before erupting with laughter. He nodded at Robert.
"I like you. A bet is a bet." He agreed. Robert turned to Gerry, who was staring at him with a look of admiration
"Call Sandra. Lets get this put to bed." He nodded at the old man, who gave him a smile of acknowledgement. "Come on, let's get back to the office."
He took the hankerchief that Jack held out to him and started trudging back to the car, his exertions catching up with him. Jack laid a hand on his arm.
"Heads up." He whispered. Robert looked up and saw Sandra and Brian walking towards them. Gerry walking on the other side of him whispered,
"Don't argue, just take it like a man."
As Sandra got closer to the three of them, she frowned as she noticed her boss was wearing a blood splattered vest, she momentarily looked worried, then furious as she saw Jack was carrying the man's clothes, and her boss was holding a now bloodstained cloth to his nose.
"What the hell!" She shouted, making all three flinch. Brian stood back a bit, as though he was trying to distance himself from the coming storm. Robert held up his still strapped hands in surrender.
"Sandra, this was all me, the boys had nothing to do with it. We have total co-operation for now. Go and ask your questions, they'll talk. See the old man over by the punchbag. We'll meet you back at the office." He turned and carried on to the car, handing the other half of the twenty to the youth who was looking at him with new respect. He gave the boy another note and indecated his car, which Sandra had parked next to Jack's. The boy nodded reverently.
"What the hell happened?" She turned her fury on Jack and Gerry. Both men just shrugged.
"You should see the other guy." Jack replied. Gerry snickered. Sandra threw another glare towards her boss, only to gulp as he peeled off the vest and use it to clean the blood off his face. He started to peel the tape off his hands, making Sandra shake her head and turn back to her team who were all grinning at each other. She glared at them all in turn.
"Don't think I'm finished." She snarled. "Brian!" She marched off, Brian trialing behind, the boys could hear him complaining.
"What? I didn't do anything!" He whined. Gerry and Jack laughed and joined Robert at the car, he accepted the shirt from Jack with a smile.
"So, on a scale of one to ten, how angry is she?" He asked. Gerry grinned.
"Oh, you've managed a ten! We're all in the dog house. But I got to tell you, it was bloody worth it." He allowed a broad smile to light up his features.
"But, I tell you what. Keep that shirt off, and we might all get off lightly." Jack laughed.
/
Two hours later, Sandra and Brian returned to the office. As she walked through the door, she noticed her boss was sitting on the sofa, his head back. He was holding an ice pack over his temple, and had his other hand in a bowl of iced water. His shirt was on, but unbuttoned. Gerry and Jack were both sat opposite, they looked up as she came and stood in front of them, she crossed her arms. waiting for one of them to speak. Robert looked up at her with his good eye.
"Be gentle with me." He pleaded, drawing a snicker from the others, she silenced them with a glare.
"Does it hurt?" She enquired, gently pulling the hand holding the ice pack away from his face, he nodded. "Good! What the hell did you think you were doing?" She yelled, letting go of his hand. "What would have happened if they had turned on you, or if the thug I saw had beaten you to a pulp. How would we have explained to the Commissioner, why my boss had taken part in an illegal boxing match, while half my team looked on. They could have really hurt you." She was beyond angry now. He closed his eyes against the fury. Gerry cleared his throat. "What?" She turned on him.
"Look Guv. Do you really think we would have stood by and let him get beaten to a pulp. He was in control of the fight the whole time, bloody impressive actually."
"Is that why he has a black eye, split lip and broken nose? And why is his hand in ice?"
"It's not broken." Jack interupted. Distracting her.
"What?"
"His nose, it's not broken. He slipped on the grass and the bloke got a sneaky couple of shots in. And his hand's in ice because he's bruised it delivering the finishing blow." He stood and switched the kettle on. "He really was in charge, he knows his stuff. Now please tell us is wasn't for nothing." Sandra puffed out her cheeks, she went over to the kettle and started to make the drinks.
"Brian. Tell them." She turned her back on them, trying to calm her temper.
"Peter Reynolds was at the camp. He lived there for a while. Peter wanted to learn to fight. He went to the travellers for training, living with them for over a year. He started to fight for money, against the advice of the bloke training him, who was the cousin of the bloke we spoke to today. One night he got beaten pretty badly. They wanted him to go to hospital but he swore he was fine, he went back to the camp and decided to have an ice bath, to ease the bruises he'd suffered. The cousin found him dead, he'd passed out and slipped under the water. Evidently, the cousin dumped the body where he knew it would be found, but didn't tell anybody at the camp. He wrote a note then dissappeared. They got a letter from Brazil a month later explaining everything."
"Why didn't they just say?" Gerry asked.
"There was a big legal battle going on at the time, some of the local land owners were unhappy about them buying the site. They were afraid this would be used against them."
"It's not much of a result, but at least we can give his family some kind of closure." Sandra passed the drinks around, and put one in front of Strickland.
"What was it you saw on the board?" Jack asked.
"In her statement, Reynolds mother listed his hobbies, one of them was boxing. Also on the witness list posted up there, was the name Douglas Smith. It was Dougie Smith we spoke to today, he's been training fighters for years. During my short army career, the barracks manager arranged a boxing tournament, I fought one of Smiths' boys. I recognised him, even if he didn't recognise me. I knocked his fighter out in the second round."
Gerry and Jack both chuckled, Sandra stared at him.
"Why didn't you say something." She asked. He smiled awkwardly.
"With men like Smith, you have to do things their way. You'd have never allowed this. I know that you and Brian are anti boxing, so I had to take Jack and Gerry with me. They didn't know what I was planning. This is all on me Sandra." She shook her head.
"How will you explain the injuries?" She asked him, sitting down next to him, she lifted the ice pack away and winced at the purple coloured swelling around his eye.
"It's Thursday. If someone can give me a lift home, I'll call in sick tomorrow, that will give me the weekend. I should be fine for Monday." She looked around the faces of her team.
"Sorry, I've got to pick little Gerry up for Paula." Gerry answered almost immediately. She looked at Jack.
"I promised Esther I'd give him a ride home." He nodded toward Brian. She looked at Brian who gave an apologetic shrug. She looked back at her boss. He gave her his best puppy dog look. She shook her head in resignation.
"Oh alright. You had better get dressed properly though, people will notice you leaving looking like that." She indecated his open shirt. He grimaced and held up his swollen hand. "Oh for pities sake!" She exclaimed and started to fasten up the buttons. He glanced over her shoulder and raised his good eyebrow, inclining his head towards the door. The three men all grinned and made their escape. Her voice brought his attention back to her.
"Don't think I didn't notice what just happened. I'll deal with them in my own time. I'm more concerned with you right now. I'm going to take you home where you will have a long hot soak, while I wait, just in case you have a bloody concussion. I can't believe you did something so stupid, if what happened is ever discovered, this unit will be history. Putting me in that position is unfair. And what if..." He interupted her with a shake of his head.
"Don't worry, if there is any comeback, I'll deflect it. UCOS won't come under any pressure."
"Don't be so bloody stupid!" She exploded, taking him by surprise. "Did it never occur to you that I might be completely pissed off not because of what might have happened to UCOS, but maybe, just maybe I give a damn about what might have happened to you!" He looked at her in shock.
"Not really, no." He stuttered. She leaned down and finished fastening the front of his shirt.
"Why?" She asked, her voice quiet.
"No-one's ever cared before." His reply wasn't an accusation, just a simple statement. "This squad is always bending the rules, pushing all the wrong buttons of all the wrong people, did it never occur to you that someone has to answer for that. It's never bothered you before, what kind of flak I have to take. What's the difference between the physical beating I got today, and the verbal beatings I have to take any other time." She stared at him in disbelief.
"Is that how we make you feel? "
"Like a worthless, ineffectual, waste of space." He nodded. She swallowed, dropping her gaze from his.
"I never realised." She admitted. He lifted her chin.
"I know, and it's alright. Right now they might be ok with me, but that's only because I managed to help this one time, next week I'll just be the wanker from upstairs again. There isn't a unit under my remit where I walk through the door and someone says, 'good morning, it's so good to see you.' let's face it, I'm usually about as welcome as a hedgehog in a condom factory." He made a joke of it, but she could see that it bothered him. "I think that's why I enjoyed today. For just one moment, I was one of the boys." She took hold of his good hand.
"I care." She told him simply, drawing a shy smile from him. She stood and helped him up, easing his jacket over the swollen hand. He winced.
"Come on, let's get you home." She smiled, leading him from the office. "But if you think you've got away with today's stunt, think again." She stopped and turned to face him, she tilted her face up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "And Thank you."
/
Authors note; This is one of the first fics I wrote. It was inspired by Gerry's line "Who'd of thought it, Strickers a pugelist."
