Utu
An X Files novel
Okay, I got asked to post this here. It was originally written back around 2000/2001, not quite sure. Based after Mulder's time in the mental hospital when Scully found the space ship, (? season 6) but has absolutely nothing to do with that except that Mulder's health is still a little fragile.
Mulder torture abounds - quite a lot of vomiting, sorry about that. Hurt/comfort, definitely for shippers. Sex in there near the very end. Profiler Mulder.
A murder mystery who dunnit. Mulder and Scully travel to New Zealand for a holiday but being who they are they can't keep out of trouble and they can't help getting involved in a murder case. They also end up baby sitting two teenage boys. Definitely not the holiday Mulder was hoping for.
Usual disclaimers, not mine, I did put them back when i'd finished with them and I don't think anyone ever missed them.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Wellington High Court Wellington High Court
New Zealand
Court Room One
Wed 14 July 1999
Judge Pita McIlhenney presiding
The courtroom was packed for the verdict. After three long months of claims and counterclaims, scientific evidence and raw emotion, the arguments had been rounded up and presented, either slanted for or against the accused. The judge, a tall, distinguished Maori man, had advised the jury to ignore their natural "gut instincts" and to concentrate only on the facts presented. Whether they had or not would be a secret that would remain forever in the jury room. Now, after a surprisingly short one and a half days of deliberation the jury was back.
Jury foreperson Gillian Cashel stood self consciously in front of the microphone. The eyes of everyone in the country were upon her. TV cameras focused on her. The judge, the rest of the jury, the families of the murdered children, the lawyers and their minions, the public that had squeezed in until it was standing room only, the family of the accused, even the accused who had avoided looking at the jury for the entire trial, all were looking at her, awaiting her words. Only one man wasn't, a man in an ill fitting borrowed jacket and new for the occasion shoes. He had eyes only for his lover, but Gillian didn't notice him.
'On the charge of the murder of Benjamin Daniel Dales, do you find the accused, Simon Peter Lewis, guilty or not guilty?' Judge McIlhenney's voice was dark and deep, much like it's owner.
Gillian cleared her throat and prayed she wouldn't squeak. She straightened and turned her eyes to Lewis. 'Guilty,' she said.
'And on the charge of the murder of Angela Kathryn Burke, do you find the accused, Simon Peter Lewis, guilty or not guilty?'
'Guilty your honour.'
The crowd let out its collective breath, Gillian sagged and sat down. It would be so good to go home tonight and start to try to forget this.
The Burke and Dales families were smiling through their tears. Lewis and his family looked completely shocked, they had never believed they would get a conviction. The police officers that had been involved were giving surreptitious high fives and trying to squash their smiles. The man in the borrowed jacket ducked his head to hide his tears and started fighting his way from the room. No one noticed him go, not even the senior police officer he bumped into as the judge pounded his gavel for order.
J Edgar Hoover Building
Washington
Mon Nov 1st
11.15 am
Scully's gamut of emotions was just about to rise from "mild concern" to "worry". She checked her watch again. Okay, she'd leave it till lunchtime and if he still wasn't here then she'd hit "very worried" and start instigating MSR, Mulder Search and Rescue.
She'd spoken to him on the phone last night and he'd sounded fine. He'd even said, "See you at work in the morning." Maybe if he hadn't said that she wouldn't be quite so worried, okay, concerned, but even so, 11.30 and no Mulder. It wasn't right. But she couldn't quite bring herself to get too worked up, him not being here was odd, but the MAD, Mulder Alert Device in her head wasn't ringing and she'd learnt long ago to listen for that.
Then she heard the elevator descending and hurriedly grabbed the nearest file and pretended to be reading. Mulder bounced into the office in such a state of sheer energised excitement that Scully dropped her pretence and stared at him. What the hell was up? She hadn't seen him like this in years. A little pang followed the thought.
'Mulder?' she asked cautiously.
'Scully,' he beamed. He threw a plastic shopping bag on his desk. 'How much vacation time have you got?'
'About the same as you I imagine. Since we never take vacations, it's probably got up to six months by now.'
'Nearly twelve weeks actually.'
'Okaay. Am I guessing you want to go on holiday?'
'Yep.' He grinned and she couldn't help herself, she smiled back.
'Where?'
He grabbed a handful of brochures from his bag, fumbled for the right one and found the page he wanted. He handed it over with a flourish. 'Here.'
She took the brochure expecting palm trees and hula girls and was puzzled by what she saw. The brochure was open on a full-page photograph of what looked like somewhere in Alaska. Taken from a boat, there was a blue, blue sea with fishing boats, but beyond the coast line dramatic mountains rose to the sky. She read the name, Kaikoura. She couldn't even say it. The colour wasn't right for Alaska somehow. 'Mulder, where is this?'
'New Zealand. Isn't it beautiful? Whales come in just off shore and you can swim with them. It's dramatic isn't it?' He rushed on before she could say anything else, leaning over her shoulder and turning pages.
'The whole country is fabulous,' allowing her a brief glimpse of forests, golden beaches and mountains. 'We could hire a car and...' he tailed off. 'It's quite small.' He watched her nervously. 'President Clinton went there for that APEC conference, he liked it.' She was chewing her fingers, this didn't look good. 'It's in the Pacific. Beside Australia.'
'I know where it is,' she said. She turned that hard blue stare on him. 'Why?' She could already guess. It was the other side of the world and thousands of miles from the shitty happenings in their lives here.
'Because it's beautiful and I've always wanted to go there.'
Good answer but she wasn't ready to let him away with it yet. Her eyebrow raised. 'There are plenty of beautiful places much closer to home. You'll have to do better than that.'
'It's summer there. It would be warm.'
'So's Florida.' She relented a little and smiled at him. This happy mood was so rare she didn't want to squash it. 'Fess up Mulder. What's the real attraction?'
Silence.
'Mulder?'
He heaved a sigh. 'It's the whales. There are ocean currents moving up from Antarctica full of krill and phytoplankton. The whales follow them. They go right up the coast of the South Island and come right in close by this Kay place here,' he indicated the first picture he'd shown her. Good, she thought, he can't say it either. 'Every twenty three years or so there is a real build up of whales, three times as many as usual. No one knows why.' He glanced up to see how she was taking this. 'I'd really like to see it.'
'Uh huh. That's this year then?'
'Yes.'
'You've never been interested in whales before.'
'I am too. I'm interested in lots of things. You don't know everything about me.'
The little boy ploy. 'No, but I can read you quite well.'
He looked down at his desk and fiddled with his pencils. He took a deep breath and let the words flow out as if they didn't belong to him. 'UFOs have been observed over Kay whatsit at about twenty three year intervals.'
He'd broken three pencils before he dared look up. Scully had a huge grin on her face. When she saw him looking at her she snorted. Then she burst out laughing. 'Mulder you are priceless.' Her belly laughs died to hiccoughs. 'Whales and UFOs.' She sniggered. 'You want me to go half way around the world to look at whales. Whales that may or may not be communicating with UFOs.' She snorted again. 'On vacation. With you?'
She looked back at him and what she saw in his eyes nearly broke her heart. 'Please,' he said.
'Mulder.' Oh God. What do I do now? She stared at his stricken face. Why was this suddenly so important? Why did he suddenly want to go away when he never took vacations? More importantly, what did she want? Did flying half way around the world with Mulder sound like a good idea? 'I'd love to Mulder,' she said slowly. 'Really.'
'But?'
'I can't afford it. It would cost thousands, just for the air fare.'
'That's alright. I've got some money. I can pay for you.'
Mulder's mysterious money. We're going to have to go into that some time. 'I can't let you do that. Mulder you can't spend your money on me.'
'Why not. It's my money. I can do what I want with it. You're my friend, I want you to come. Don't worry, it won't leave me broke.'
We are definitely going to have to explore that subject later. He looked so apprehensive. He really does want this she realised. She glanced at the brochure, the implications rattling around in her mind. So what, she suddenly thought. We're friends, Mulder doesn't really have any other friends and he wants me to go on this crazy trip with him. She looked up and smiled. 'Okay. I'd like that. Thank you.' She was rewarded by a one hundred watt smile. The sort of smile that came so rarely she was never quite sure that she hadn't only imagined that he actually could smile like that. This really was important to him. 'But Mulder. I pay half of everything else. Okay?'
He swallowed and nodded. 'Yeah.'
'Oh, and Mulder, I'll choose the accommodation.'
He sniffed and looked up his eyes shining, a great smile settling across his face. 'Scully that's great. It'll be so good. I promise.' He swept over and lifted her from her chair, enveloping her in a massive hug. 'Oh Scully!' He buried his nose in her hair. 'that's great. It'll be great. Oh god, Scully.' He danced them in a little jig before he realised what he was doing. Embarrassed he let her go, hanging his head. 'Sorry.'
She positioned herself under his nose so he had to see her and smiled up. 'It will be lovely Mulder. When can we go?'
Washington DC
Mon 6th Dec
7.32am
Mulder sat in the back of the cab staring into the cold greyness of the early morning. One more time he ran over the list but he couldn't find anything he'd forgotten. He patted his pocket, passport, wallet, check; patted the bag he had for carry on luggage, yep, he would not check inside it again. All the same he opened it and peered in, magazines, sunflower seeds, sweets for Scully, indigestion things, eye drops, book, toothbrush and razor, little box. Oh God. What if she's changed her mind? Did I turn the iron off? Yes, I'm sure I did. She was having lunch with her mother yesterday. What if she's got the guilts over not being with her family for Christmas? Oh please Lord, Fox Mulder prayed to the god he didn't believe in, let it be alright.
Mon 6th Dec
7.32
Scully paced by the door. He was late. He should have been here fifteen minutes ago. The cab must have been late. She knew leaving their cars in the garage at work was a dumb idea, even if it had seemed a good one at the time. Oh God she was so nervous.
Mulder was just so excited about this, he'd been on such a high since she had agreed to come. It was such a daft idea she still couldn't work out exactly why she had said yes. She didn't like the thought of him spending all that money on her, but his logic there was flawless, it was his money and he wanted to. It was so nice to see him happy. It had been so long since he'd smiled. God the last time she could remember had been when he'd tried to teach her to play baseball. And that was what? Nearly a year ago? No it couldn't be, that was in the summer. It certainly felt like that long. God knows it was probably the last time she'd really smiled as well. Except of course when he'd finally woken up after that brainstorm or whatever the hell that had been.
Christ, even three months later she couldn't think of that. Think about the holiday. Where was he?
It would be nice to spend a few weeks in the sun. It would be very nice to not have to be watching their backs, watching their steps and even watching their words. Hell, for once they would have a chance to be who they really were.
So Mulder could go stand on a mountain top and gaze at UFOs. Scully had done a little research of her own and she couldn't find any evidence of these particular sightings ever being more than an interesting light show. She didn't think Mulder could get into too much trouble there. And as for the whale angle? Well he could spend a happy few days talking to whoever had come up with the theory, but his inability to converse in whistles or whatever whales did would probably render too much investigation difficult. So what would she be doing while Mulder was doing this? That was easy, absolutely anything she wanted.
She knew the accommodation would be nice and she fully intended to relax and enjoy herself.
So what will you and Mulder do in the evenings a little voice niggled, when there's no case to discuss and he's worn out the topic of whales? Well that would probably be the greatest challenge. We may just have to kill each other. Now that was another plus with New Zealand, they couldn't carry their weapons.
She sighed. Even now she still wasn't sure this was a good idea. But just remember, she told herself, every time you've tried to go on holiday on your own you've hated it. You can't wait to get back to work. And be honest, it's not the work that's really calling is it. This trip is it. This trip is the chance to sort this out once and for all. Alone. Together. No holds barred.
It had hit her two days ago that they were really going. Not just that she and Mulder were going away but that she and Mulder were going away - together - overseas - for a whole month - on vacation. This wasn't just any old trip.
Panic set in. Unflappable Special Agent Dana Scully had panicked.
She had rung her mother who had been marvellous. They had spent the weekend shopping, after all, a special wardrobe was called for. If in doubt, shop. It worked for her. She eyed the suitcase on the floor, mentally inventorying the contents. Yes, it would do fine. What to wear on the flight had been a special problem. It was a very long trip. First they had to fly to LA, bad enough on it's own, but then it was another eleven hours to Christchurch, New Zealand. That's an awful long time to be over the sea the nervous flier in her noted. Jeeze Mulder, when you choose to go somewhere, you really go somewhere.
In the end she'd chosen stretch jeans, tapered to show off her legs and comfortable enough to sit in for a full 24 hours. She had a white tee shirt because it would be warm on the plane, and the crowning glory: a beautiful, soft, sky blue, woollen jacket. She had tried it on with her mother beside her and known it was hers. The fit was perfect, the drape superb but it was the colour that was special. Not only did the colour do something wonderful to her complexion, it was an exact match for her eyes. It was very expensive and she had let her mother buy it for her because they both understood it was a gift of love. Mulder would love it.
It was her mother that had brought home to her the importance of that. It was as they had hugged farewell yesterday and wished each other happy holidays. As her mother left she had turned to her daughter and caught her hand. 'When he asks you,' she said. 'You will say yes, won't you.' Dana had just gaped and smiling fondly her mother had driven away.
She thought about that now and was so overcome with nerves that she had to go back to the bathroom, again. And so when the taxi did toot, she wasn't quite ready and Mulder was standing nervously at the door about to knock when she opened it. He stood there taking in casual but beautiful Scully and he beamed. He reached for her case and took her hand. It was all going to be alright.
Christchurch Central Police Station
New Zealand
Wed 8th Dec
5.40pm
Detective Inspector Rod Stuart heaved a great sigh, tugged at a tuft of hair over his ear and brought his pen back to the page in front of him with such a frenzy of bad feeling he nearly tore a hole in it. He glanced at his watch again and then out the window, taking in the cloudless blue sky that was all he could see from this angle. He had originally seen it as a blessing to have finally reached a rank that conferred among other privileges, an office with a window. However, in the two years that he'd sat here, he'd often found it, more of a torture than a pleasure. At least hidden in the bowels of the building, the passing of time had seemed less distracting, less disturbing.
Detective Inspector Rod Stuart looked nothing like his famous near namesake. He did however bear a totally unknown resemblance to a certain Walter Skinner, Assistant Director of the FBI. Both men shared the same height and build. They were similar in age, and unfortunately, they had near identical patterns of baldness. This made Stuart's frustrated tugging at his hair a particularly dicey form of stress release.
Another glance at his watch and he shoved his chair back from his desk with explosive fury. He picked up the files remaining on his desk and shoved them into his briefcase. He'd deal to them tonight. No fuck, he took them back out and dropped them on the desk. What the hell difference was it going to make if he didn't see them until tomorrow. Rod found it astounding that in the middle of the investigation into a child's murder he should have to give estimates as to the number of overtime man hours required and a budget for the operation. Stuff it! He gave a wry laugh. No way he was taking that home. With rank comes something. He was going to be on time for his kids if it killed him.
He wrenched his tie off and shoved it in his pocket and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. Turning to the door he was stopped by a sound, a most irritating sound. The phone rang.
'Fuck!' He was held, stuck like a rabbit caught in a spotlight for at least three rings, as he debated picking it up. Oh shit. He snatched it up and sank onto the desk. 'Stuart,' he barked.
'Boss, it's Bob.'
Fuck, Stuart sagged. He was definitely going to be late now. Detective Constable Bob Hamilton couldn't string two thoughts together without coming up with a novel. 'Bob. You want me to tell your wife and kids you're going to be late for the Scout Barbecue. Right?'
'No.' The man sounded surprised. 'Well actually yes. Could you? I hadn't thought of that.'
Oh God, Stuart sighed. 'What do you want Bob?' Rod Stuart counted having Bob Hamilton living practically next door to him as one of the misfortunes of his life. They saw way too much of each other, both having children in the same classes at school and in the same scout group.
'I've got a surprise for you,' Hamilton told him.
'Bob. I'm late. I promised Davy I'd be there this time.' He should have known better than to protest.
'Bluey and I're at the hospital.'
Oh good. Fatal I hope.
'We're waiting to see if any of the victims from the incident on the LA flight are up to making statements yet. You know about that don't you Rod?'
Stuart racked his brains but couldn't honestly remember what it was about. He did remember some flap at the airport this morning but nothing had sunk in. 'Ah...' God. Get to the point.
'It's been all over the news boss.'
'I've been a little preoccupied with my own news worthy case,' he snapped. 'If you haven't noticed.'
'Exactly,' Bob exclaimed. 'That's why I'm ringing.'
Stuart yanked at his hair and watched a single cloud blank out the sun. 'Tell me,' he sighed, 'what you are talking about.'
'Well this morning, half way between LA and here this Jap guy decided to off his wife. He took to her with a pocket knife. Not a little swiss army job but a great big hunting thing, you know the sort? Blade about six inches long. The staff and some Yank tourists managed to grab him and subdue him. Quite a few people got hurt.'
Hell, Rod's brain was quite active enough to imaging a packed aircraft with a nutter going berserk with a knife. There wasn't exactly much room to run and dodge in economy class. 'Air New Zealand?' Stuart asked. How the hell had the guy got a knife on board anyway?
'Yep.'
'Shit. A right international incident. How come no one's brought it to me yet?'
'I dunno. Cashel's on it. No one's died yet. I guess he thinks you've got enough to do.'
Well that was true but someone should have made him aware of it. 'Why are you ringing Bob?'
'Well boss, you remember that course you went on in Australia last year?' Hamilton sounded excited. 'The one where you were doing stuff on profiling? Remember how you told us about this case in the States where you were given the same information as the investigators and you had to try to work it out yourselves.'
'Fuck Bob. Of course I remember.' I was the one there. And it wasn't like that anyway. They'd been given exercises based on real cases solved by effective profiling.
'Do you remember telling us about a case in Oklahoma and how you thought the FBI profiler was amazing.'
'Yeah.' You had to let Bob run on or you never got to the end of the tale.
'What was his name? It was something a bit odd wasn't it?'
Stuart thought but he couldn't quite come up with it. He knew he'd wake up in the night and remember.
Hamilton was nearly cackling with glee. 'It was Mulder wasn't it? Fox Mulder?'
'Right. So...?' Although he'd already worked out the answer.
'He's here boss. He's here. He's the Yank that stopped the Jap from taking his wife's face off. He's on vacation.'
A grin spread across the inspector's face but he struggled to keep his voice even. 'Is that right.'
'Yep, I've checked boss. He's FBI alright.'
'It could be someone else, that case was at least ten years ago.'
'With a name like that?'
'Right.' God, what luck. 'How is he? Is he alright?'
'Well , umm. No not really. He's in intensive care. His arm got slashed up quite badly and he nearly bled to death before they got here.'
'Shit.' Poor bastard. Rod wondered how he'd react in a similar situation. Could he watch someone attack people with a knife? Of course not. He knew he couldn't just sit there, but playing Good Samaritan didn't pay these days. 'Is he going to be okay?'
'They're not saying anything much yet. I don't know.'
'Is anyone with him?'
'There's a woman, I think she's his wife. She's got a different name though.' Stuart could hear pages fluttering. 'A Miss Scully. Guess what boss, she's FBI too.'
'Okay Bob. Thanks for letting me know. Make sure they're being looked after won't you.'
'Sure. You want me to go see her?'
'No!' Stuart's voice raised in alarm. 'She's just spent hours watching and wondering if he'll bleed to death, the last thing she needs is to talk to you.' It would never occur to Bob to take offence. 'No,' he pondered. ' I'll drop in and see them in the morning. Okay. Don't you go near them. Got it?'
'Yes boss. Uh..?'
'I'll tell Janine where you are. Now if I don't get to this bloody barbecue my kids will never talk to me again.'
'Boss?'
'What?'
'Merry Christmas.'
Stuart smiled. Fox Mulder huh, not a bad present. 'Yeah Bob. Thanks.' He sobered as he collected his things. If he survives.
Christchurch Arts Centre
Thurs 9th
11.15
Rod Stuart strolled down the street enjoying the fresh air and prolonging the walk. It was only two blocks from the Central Police Station to the hospital and he wanted to drag this out as long as possible. He focused on the people sitting under the umbrellas in the cafes, enjoying the outdoors but staying out of the sun. The temperature had already started to climb and the day promised to be a scorcher.
He watched the tram rumble past and amused himself by repeating the commentary he knew the driver would be giving to the tourists. But it wasn't working. His mind kept leaping back to the words on the piece of paper in his pocket and he felt a terrible sense of dread.
Time out, he told himself. Think of something else, but the only other "else" that came to mind was how familiar this walk was. He'd walked this way during breaks for nearly four months. Two years ago seemed like yesterday. He knew the route so well he knew it would take him only four minutes from office to hospital if he didn't have to stop to cross the roads and as long as ten minutes if he had to stop at all three streets he had to cross. Today was somewhere in between.
Then he was there. He entered the lobby and the familiar hospital smell caused his stomach to knot. He wondered at the wisdom of this visit.
He was distracted by the sight of a large crowd of news mongers apparently camped out by the coffee machine and realised that there was considerable media interest in this case. As far as he was aware, none of the major participants in the drama had yet spoken to the media. Passengers on the flight had described screams and rivers of blood, but the airline had forbidden its staff to talk and the injured passengers were guarded by a phalanx of hospital staff. He headed for the lift and saw the newspaper headline by the book shop. "Heroism at 33,000 Feet". Yes the media must be hanging out for interviews
Rod's finger automatically stabbed the button for the right floor.
He nodded to the constable who was guarding the entrance to the ICU ward and was gratified to see the man leap to his feet as he recognised his senior officer. The sights and sounds of the unit assaulted him and for a moment he was frozen, flashes of his small son, still and broken on the bed, all he could see. A hand on his shoulder made him jump and he turned as a familiar voice spoke his name.
'Alison.' Some good memories did come from this place. His smile was genuine. 'How are you? Good to see you.'
The attractive blond in green hospital scrubs smiled back. 'I'm great. You're looking good too.' She put her head to one side. 'A little tired though?'
'I've got a bit of a rough case at the moment.'
'The kid that went missing from the Santa Parade?'
Rod nodded and made a face. 'You still work here then?'
'Strange as it seems to you. I actually like working here. Oh, and look,' she held out her left hand. 'I finally got married.'
'That's great.' He searched for a name. 'Barry wasn't it?'
'Brian.' She beamed. 'A year ago now. How's Davy? I haven't forgotten him. He was a real fighter.'
A pang of memory struck Rod but he shook it off. 'He's great. He's doing really well. If you didn't know, you'd never guess. He's doing well at school too at last. He's got these real high tech hearing aids and he hasn't looked back. Here,' he dug in his wallet and pulled out a photograph. 'This was the boys, last Christmas at the Sounds. Davy's grown another six inches since then.'
She examined the photo and touched it gently. 'That's neat. It is so good to catch up with our successes. Would you mind, could I show this around?'
'No, that's fine.'
She straightened. 'Now you must be here on business are you? None of the airline passengers are able to speak yet and Miss Scully and Miss Smith already gave statements. Or was there someone else you needed to see?'
'It's not really business,' he admitted. 'I came to see Fox Mulder. I've heard of him, I admire his work. I just thought, well, they're alone here in a strange country. I just thought I'd drop by and see if there was any thing I could do to help.'
'You and half the country,' she sighed. 'The hospital has been inundated with gifts and pledges of this that and the other.'
'Oh, I'm sorry,' Rod said. It had never occurred to him that his visit might be an imposition.
'Look, don't worry,' Alison put a staying hand on his arm. 'You're right. And there is something you can do.' She lowered her voice. 'Mulder's partner Dana hasn't left his side and she's exhausted. I can't imagine when she must have slept last. Apparently he suffered a major illness earlier in the year and nearly died. And whatever they do for the FBI is very dangerous. So this happening when they're on holiday and apparently safe. It's all too much. Plus,' Alison paused for effect, 'She's actually a medical doctor so she understands the implications of everything that has happened to him.'
'I thought she worked for the FBI?'
'She does. She's a pathologist.'
'Really.' That might be useful in about a week's time he thought grimly.
Alison resorted to feminine wiles and gave a beseeching gaze from under her fringe. 'She's very shocked and she isn't thinking straight. She says she won' t leave him but I think if someone actually picked her up and took her, she'd go. She desperately needs to sleep. Could you try?'
Damn. Rod was regretting this visit more by the minute. He really couldn't even afford the time to be here, wasn't quite sure why he was. It was something to do with the note in his pocket and the thought of what it could mean. This guy Mulder might just be able to pull the rabbit out of the hat, if he was a good as they said he was.
'Please,' Alison pleaded.
Rod never stood a chance. 'I'll try. But I really do need to get back to work soon.'
'Thanks.' A sunny smile was his reward. 'They're down in 3. He's my patient today.'
Thank God it wasn't Davy's place in cubicle 8 he thought as he followed her. 'How is he? Is he going to be okay?'
She paused. 'I think so. I'm picking so anyway and I've got pretty good at picking them over the years.' She'd picked Davy as a survivor too he remembered. 'He had serious injuries to his arm and a few other cuts. It took plastics hours to put things back together. His major problems now are all due to having had a low blood volume for a large amount of time. The body just can't handle that. If we can get his kidneys up and running soon he'll be okay.'
Rod looked quizzical. 'Thanks for telling me.'
She laughed. 'Oh for heavens sake. You are the one person I can trust not to pass information on to anyone.' She led the way into the cubicle.
Rod's attention was instantly taken by the sylibant hiss of the ventilator. Shit, that sound still haunted his dreams. He looked at the man on the bed, his chest rising and falling to the rhythm of the machine. From his head to his toes Rod knew what all the tubes, wires and monitors were for. Amazing his mind told him. You can look at that bag of blood and know instantly that it is packed cells and not whole blood.
The patient was lying partially on his right side, propped with pillows. His left arm was heavily bandaged, only the tips of yellow betadine stained fingers showing. There were three drain tubes running out from under the bandages.
The guy looked paler than the sheets. He looked three parts dead. This bloke looked too young! No, he thought. This is the wrong guy. If Mulder was profiling for VICAP in the mid 80s, he has to be at least my age now. This guy doesn't look much past 30.
Then he looked at the woman who had been dosing, head on her arms on the bed. She lifted her golden head as Alison gently called her name, instantly glancing up the bed to check her partner. Alison's words to her sunk in and she looked up at Rod with unfocused eyes and suddenly started to attention when she saw him. Then her eyes focused and she stared at him and relaxed a little. 'I'm sorry,' she murmured. 'I thought you were someone I knew.'
It didn't matter if this wasn't the right guy. What mattered was that this woman was a fellow law enforcement officer and Alison was right, she needed his help.
Dana Scully was also dressed in the green shift dress that all the female staff wore in the unit, but he wouldn't mistake her for staff. Not at the moment. The face she raised to him was grey and lined from fatigue and worry, her hair dirty and dishevelled although still a bright spot in the room. Rod was used to dealing with people in stress and this woman's look was classic.
Alison introduced them using Rod's full title and he watched as the American woman did something amazing. She straightened and from somewhere found a mask of professionalism that wrapped around her and settled on her face. She held out her hand and shook his, colleague to colleague, her eyes meeting his. This, Rod thought, is one tough lady.
'Inspector. I'm sorry. I don't think there is anything I can do for you. I've already given my statement yesterday and I really don't think I have anything more to add.'
She has a beautiful voice, Rod thought irreverently. Like treacle with just enough accent to be interesting. 'I'm sorry,' he said feeling embarrassed, 'this isn't an official visit.'
She raised a quizzical eyebrow.
'My office was made aware of your plight, and I just felt it would be appropriate...' God he sounded pompous. 'To see if you needed any help.' He waited to see how he'd be received but he knew he'd wrong footed it. Thank god he hadn't blurted out about her husband not being who he thought he was.
'As you can see,' the woman said, 'the hospital are doing everything they can.' She sounded professional but looked slightly disorientated. 'I don't really think there's anything any one else can do. Everyone is being very kind.'
'What about you?' Rod blurted out. 'Alison says you need to sleep. Why don't you come with me and I'll take you back to your hotel. Then I'll organise a car to bring you back here later.'
The mask slipped just a little. She looked desperately at the figure in the bed and reached out to hold his hand. 'Thank you,' she said, 'but I'd rather stay here.'
'Dana.' Alison put a gentle hand on her shoulder. 'You need some sleep. You need to eat. And,' she wrinkled her nose, 'you need a wash. Mulder is quite stable, nothing is likely to happen and if it did we would ring you straight away.'
'And I could have a car bring you back here in minutes,' Rod jumped in.
'Go back to your hotel,' Alison continued. 'Please. Mulder will need you later when he wakes up. Right now, you need to look after you. I'll take care of him. I promise.'
The red head shut her eyes briefly, then gave a nod. She could see the sense in what Alison said.
'Good. That's good,' Rod murmured encouragingly. 'Tell Alison which hotel you're at so she can contact you if she has to, then pick up your things and we'll go.'
The mask slipped completely. 'I don't know,' she moaned in horror, hand to her mouth. 'I haven't a clue where we're supposed to be staying.'
Her hands flapped helplessly as she looked around for her bag. 'I've got it written down somewhere.' She noticed the green scrubs. 'I can't go into a hotel like this,' she panicked. 'I'd look like I escaped from somewhere. I have to check in and everything.' It all seemed much too hard. She was unravelling before their eyes. 'My clothes are ruined and I haven't got anything else. I don't know where our bags are.' She was crying out right now and Alison pulled her into her arms.
'She's right,' Rod said awkwardly as Alison shushed and soothed. 'She can't go to a hotel. Give me a minute,' he dug in his pocket for his phone. 'I'll call my wife and let her know, then I'll take her home. She can stay with us.'
'Rod,' Alison said quietly. 'You can't use that here. Phone from the desk please.' She smiled at him over the other woman's shoulder. 'Thanks.'
I've been done, Rod thought ruefully. She was after that all along.
- - - -
Ten minutes later Rod led a much calmer Scully down to the front entrance of the hospital. She was wearing a cardigan of Alison's over the green dress and carried her bloodstained clothing in a plastic bag. All I possess in the world she thought with a jolt of hysteria. The day outside was hot, but she was pleased of the cardigan. She felt near naked, striped of all the usual accessories of her life. No clothes, no gun, not even a hand bag.
She had no idea what had happened to their carry on luggage. As the plane had taxied into the terminal the ambulances were already lined up beside the airbridge. The passport officials had come on board with the ambulance staff but had been shoved aside and held at bay by the aircraft staff. Scully, busy transferring a seriously ill Mulder to the ambulance gurney hadn't given passports another thought.
The patients had been offloaded from the aircraft in one of the caterer's scissor trucks, loaded straight into the ambulances and with the three doctors, all passengers, who had been attending to them during the flight, whisked away.
A police car drew up at the door of the hospital, a young uniformed officer at the wheel. Rod guided her gently around to the passenger seat. She nearly resisted when he seemed to be taking her to the wrong side of the car. Then she remembered. She was in New Zealand and cars here were right hand drive. She really was in a foreign country.
'I'm sorry I can't take you myself,' he was apologising, 'but I really have to get back to work. Paula's expecting you. She'll look after you.'
He settled her in and gave the officer the address. 'I'll get someone on tracking down your luggage for you too. I don't want you to worry about it. Okay?'
'Okay?' she agreed.
Driving on the wrong side of the road completed Scully's disorientation. She couldn't seem to take in anything of the trip. She was aware of a city sliding past them, traffic lights, vehicles, suburbia, but she couldn't take anything in. It could have been a long ride or it could have been very short. But then they were driving through country side and she noticed that.
'Where are we?' she snapped. 'Where are we going?'
'Halswell,' the officer replied confused. 'That's right isn't it?' It was the first time his passenger had spoken and Darryl Somers was more concerned about her than he had been when she'd seemed not to hear him earlier. He had no idea why the boss had pulled him away from traffic duty to play taxi but he was starting to suspect this woman wasn't all there.
'16 Chatswood Terrace,' Somers said. 'Is that right?'
Scully blinked. Suburbia was now wrapped right around them again. 'I don't know,' she said quietly. 'I have no idea. It's Inspector Stuart's house.'
Shit, Somers hadn't realised that. Who the hell was this woman then? Did the inspector have insanity in his family closet?
Paula Stuart came to the door when she heard the car pull up. Somers dived around to open the passenger door, relieved to be rid of his charge.
He left with unseemly haste.
'Hi,' Paula smiled.
'Hi,' Scully said stupidly.
'Come in.' She held out her hand. The silence was awkward. 'Please, you're most welcome. Rod was very upset to think of you in a hotel alone.'
Scully took the offered hand and allowed herself to be led into the house. She blinked back tears. She felt like a small child. Her brain was completely numb, she could no longer take in anything. Her head was full of cotton wool. She was in another new place with a new person but she couldn't react. She couldn't think.
Paula was shocked. The American woman was completely spaced out. She didn't respond when spoken to, she didn't move unless led. Worried, she sat her down in the kitchen and tried to pull her rusty nursing training into play.
She checked her pulse, 80 beats a minute, that was fine; no fever, pupils were reacting. She seemed a little dehydrated but there didn't appear to be any physical reason for her catatonic state. She just looked grey and exhausted.
And that, thought Paula, smoothing Dana's hair back from her forehead, is probably the problem.
She gave Dana a glass of juice and when she drank it thirstily followed it with a second. 'Come on sweetheart,' Paula said. 'Let's get you to bed.'
- - - - -
Scully woke slowly. She needed to wake up, she knew that, but it took a huge effort. Slowly, like struggling through mud, she forced herself to consciousness. Dragging her eyes open she lay staring at a strange ceiling. Strange ceilings were nothing new but lightshades like hot air balloons were. Rolling her head sideways she took in curtains of navy blue with aeroplanes printed on them and walls covered in posters of aircraft, baby animals and a child's art work.
She had a head ache but nothing startling. She just didn't have any idea where she was.
There was daylight coming in between the curtains and her watch told her it was 12 o' clock but that didn't feel right. Struggling to sit up, she found her whole body ached and she gave up the effort. She knew there was something she needed to do but she couldn't think what. She hadn't been kidnapped, she was fairly certain of that, she had no sense of being under threat. She looked over towards the door to see it was ajar. Definitely not being kept prisoner then. Maybe if she slept some more she'd be able to work out why she was in bed in a child's bedroom in the middle of the day.
She dozed some more but the feeling that there was something important that she was missing wouldn't let her sleep. Moaning a little she sat up and discovered she was wearing a strange night gown. Her scalp felt itchy, her hair was dirty, and she was sure she could smell herself. Cleanliness was something she was always careful about. Being in bed dirty wasn't pleasant.
Then her eye caught something just inside the door, two suitcases, Mulder's and her own. Gasping she remembered it all. The packed plane, the man with the knife and all the blood! Mulder. Mulder bleeding! God Mulder was in the hospital. That's what she had to do. She had to get back to the hospital.
But where was she? She still didn't have the faintest idea.
There was a bathrobe draped across the foot of the bed and feeling like she'd been run over by a bus she struggled into it. How long had she been asleep? It felt like days. It also felt like she needed weeks more.
Scully parted the curtains to find herself looking at a trampoline in a back garden. There was a wooden fence smothered in roses. It was definitely day time, that was about all she could tell. Opening the door she stepped out into a hallway. She could hear quiet voices somewhere in the house.
On bare feet she padded out and found toilet and bathroom, which she used in that order. The dishevelled hag that stared at her from the bathroom mirror gave her a start and she washed her face and did her best to pat her hair into some sort of shape. She thought about going back to the bedroom and finding at least a comb, but the need to know where she was and what was happening to Mulder was too strong.
She followed the voices until she could see two people in the kitchen. Scully started in surprise. The man looked like... Then she remembered. She'd been dead on her feet at the hospital and a policeman who looked like her boss had offered to take her home. I must have let him, she thought with surprise. She couldn't remember a thing.
The man, who looked like Skinner and whose name she couldn't remember, had obviously just arrived home. His wife was fussing around him, putting the kettle on, touching him as she moved around the kitchen preparing a meal.
'I'm sorry I dropped you in it like that,' the man said. 'She just looked so lost.'
'No,' she smiled at him. 'You did the right thing. She wouldn't have coped much longer.' The woman was tall and elegant. Her dark hair hung to her shoulders in a glossy bob. 'I was a bit worried that we might have to get her admitted as well but I think she just needed to sleep.'
They're talking about me, Scully thought. What was I doing? I can't remember getting here, or getting undressed. What happened? What did I do? She hung back, too embarrassed to make her presence known.
'Oh,' the wife said. 'I swapped with Julie. She was the only one who could work today at short notice. I'll have to work her Saturday night. Sorry.'
No! Scully thought. She didn't go to work because of me. This is terrible.
'So you,' Inspector Stuart's wife said as she dropped a kiss on his bald spot, (Well that's something. I've remembered his name.) 'will have to take the boys to Christmas in the Park.'
'I can't,' he said dropping his head.
'Why? What's wrong?'
He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to her. She took it and read it with a puzzled look. Sinking into a chair she placed it on the table and spread it out. ' What does it mean?'
He pulled out another piece of paper and handed her that. 'It matches this one. This came the week before the Santa Parade. This,' he taped the first page, 'means,' and his words hissed with emotion, 'that he's going to take another child. And I'm picking it will be from the concert.'
His wife's eyes were dark with horror. 'No Rod! No.'
All three people seemed frozen for a long minute. Scully wanted to back away and leave them but was afraid of making a sound. Finally the inspector disengaged himself from his wife's grip. 'What time are you going to wake sleeping beauty,' he asked.
'It's alright,' Scully said stepping around the corner. 'I'm awake. I think.'
They smiled at her. The inspector stood and pulled out a chair for her. 'I must say, you look better than when I last saw you,' his wife said.
Scully was concerned. ' I must have looked pretty bad.'
'Yes,' the woman said honestly. 'You did.' She appraised her carefully and Scully didn't avoid the scrutiny. She seemed satisfied with what she saw. ' Now,' she said. 'You'll want to know. I rang the hospital at five and your husband was doing well. He's even managed 200 mls of urine output since midday so it sounds as if he's picking up. I'm also guessing you need coffee.'
Scully smiled with enormous relief. 'Yes please. Coffee would be wonderful. Um,' she felt embarrassed. 'I can't remember your names. I can't even remember getting here. And please, what time is it?' She was babbling but she was just so relieved that Mulder's kidneys hadn't been permanently damaged. 'Oh, and Mulder's my partner, not my husband.'
The others were smiling, sharing her pleasure at the good news. They were such nice people. They were being so good to her. He was going to be alright, she was so relieved.
A large mug of coffee appeared at her elbow. 'I'm Paula,' the woman said putting her hand on Scully's shoulder grounding her a little. 'And that is my husband Rod. He rescued you from the hospital just before you hit terminal fatigue. It's nearly six and I would have woken you soon anyway. I know you'll want to get back.' She looked at her with concern. 'You've had about six hours sleep. You will,' she sternly wagged a finger at Scully, 'come back here for the night and sleep some more. Hospital staff are paid to stay awake at night. Let them earn their money.'
Paula crouched in front of Scully's chair, felt for her pulse. 'You scared me this morning. You were in a bad way. We need to look after you if you are to be any good to your partner. Alright?'
Scully nodded, a lump in her throat and Paula stood up. 'You need to eat Dana. What time of day do you feel like? Do you want breakfast sort of things or something more substantial?'
Scully uttered her thanks then sat there and let herself be fussed over. She realised she had no choice.
Christchurch Public Hospital
Rod dropped Scully at the main entrance of the hospital then sped off, back to his office. He still had a lot to be done before he could give up for the day. Scully watched the car leave and stood, enjoying the warm evening air before stepping back into the antiseptic airconditioning of the hospital. She contemplated the forces that had conspired to bring this man and his family into her life right when she needed them.
Well fed, showered and dressed in her own clean clothes she felt much more her usual self. She wasn't stupid. An obviously senior police officer, obviously very wrapped up in a case doesn't suddenly decide to play Knight in Shining Armour for the fun of it. He must have a reason and Scully hoped it wasn't that he wanted Mulder's help. But she couldn't think of anything else it could be.
She breathed deep, enjoying leaving her heavy winter coat behind. For the first time she started to think about what would happen next? She wondered how long Mulder would be in hospital and what he would want to do when he came out. She couldn't see him wanting to go home but their vacation would be severely curtailed. He would probably have to stay around for wound checks and the like. Looked like he wouldn't be sitting up mountains watching UFOs after all.
But first she had to get him conscious. Scully found her way back to the ICU, suddenly terribly eager to see Mulder and see for herself how well he was doing. She felt like she'd left him alone for days.
As she entered Mulder's cubicle Sally, a nurse she recognised from the night before was busy taking recordings. She looked up when she heard Scully and smiled. 'He's doing well.' She patted Mulder's leg. ' Good boy.' Sally tended to treat her patient as a naughty little boy and it seemed appropriate. She smiled at Scully. ' You look better.'
'I feel it too,' Scully answered. She went straight to the head of the bed. 'Mulder?' she said quietly. Her hand went to his forehead, her multi purpose Mulder checking touch. It told her a lot about his condition and it told him that she was there. It reconnected them and she couldn't have not touched him like that if she'd tried. ' I'm back.' He felt cool, no fever, well hydrated, no shock. Automatically she checked the monitors and equipment, her hand stroking his hair back. 'How are you doing? It's looking good. You're going to be fine.'
Sally recognised the private moment and left them some space. As Scully pulled up the chair and settled by the bed she spoke. 'He's doing well,' she reported. 'His urine output's up and the blood pressure's settled right down.'
Scully took Mulder's hand in hers and started when he twitched under her touch. 'He's lightening,' she said in surprise.
'That's the other thing I was going to tell you,' Sally said. 'Dr Neur is very happy with his progress. She wants to get him extubated. We're letting him come round and we'll see how he goes.'
Scully was alarmed. 'Don't let him wake up with the tube still down. He really hates that.'
Sally looked at her puzzled. 'We don't do that. Nobody likes it.'
'I'm sorry,' Scully explained. 'It's just that Mulder's probably spent more time in ICU's than most people ever do. He's really frightened about things like that.'
'And that frightens you,' Sally said softly. She had noticed that the patient's past history in the notes extended to several pages. She hadn't read it because his history wasn't relevant to his current care. Now her interest was aroused. She'd read it later, once the partner had gone. Something to keep her going till home time.
Mulder started to come round about nine. The respirator was adjusted to allow him to start breathing for himself. Dr Neur arrived and at the first sign that Mulder was fighting the ventilator tube she removed it. Mulder coughed and choked but didn't wake. His breathing calmed and Sally placed an oxygen mask on his face. 'Easy,' she soothed. 'You're okay. Just breathe.'
Stroked by Scully, Mulder settled down, breathing well on his own. After a few minutes she saw the pulse oximeter reading steadying on an acceptable figure and breathed a sigh of relief. He'd be okay.
When Rod arrived sometime after ten he wasn't sure if he'd have a fight on his hands or not. He remembered refusing to leave Davy's side for the first few days after the accident. People had tried so hard to make him go home and sleep. He felt a sudden pang of guilt as he remember that it had been his annoying neighbour Bob Hamilton of all people, who had arrived at 3 am one morning to sit with Davy. He sat with Davy so that Rod would know that Davy wouldn't be alone while Rod went for a rest. Bob Hamilton who Rod had had running around in circles for several hours today tracking down luggage and bribing customs officials (in the nicest possible way) so that unaccompanied bags could find their rightful owners.
The bed had been lowered so it was on a level with Dana's chair. She was semi lying, her head alongside the man's on the pillow. One hand held his, the other rested on his shoulder, lightly stroking. It was as close as she could get to holding him in her arms without actually crawling onto the narrow bed. It was very quiet and they looked very peaceful.
'Hi,' he said quietly.
She looked up and smiled. 'Hi.' In the dim light she looked very pretty.
'Ready to go?'
She nodded. 'Just give me a minute. Okay?'
'Yeah.' He sighed with relief.
Ten minutes later she met him at the door. Now that she knew him a little better he didn't look nearly so much like Skinner. He was tired but greeted her with a smile. 'I see the ventilator is gone.'
'Yes,' she smiled, pleased to have some one to share with. 'He's doing really well. He woke enough to know me. He said my name, then he just went straight back to sleep.' She gave a huge yawn. ' I think we're jet lagged.'
'Come on Cinderella,' he offered his arm. 'Let's get you home to bed.'
'I know what it feels like you know,' he said getting into the car. 'I know how hard it is to leave. Our youngest son Davy spent sixteen days in intensive care a couple of years ago...'
The telling of his tale took them home.
When they entered the house they were greeted by Paula and a tall youth that Scully took to be the older son Brad. They'd been watching TV in the family room but jumped up when they heard the car drive into the garage. Rod did a double take when he saw his son. 'What are you doing up?'
The boy hung his head. 'Brad wants to talk to you,' Paula said. A wealth of information passed unspoken between husband and wife.
Rod pulled at his hair. 'Okay,' he said. 'You get yourself into bed. I'll see you in a minute.' Brad turned to leave. 'Oh Brad,' his father called. 'Aren't you going to say hello to our guest.'
Brad glanced at Scully, mumbled something that may have been hello, blushed and then fled the room.
'Don't mind him,' Paula told her. 'It's something to do with being a teenager.'
'Oh,' was all Scully could think of saying.
Paula led Scully into the lounge to show her the sofa bed she'd made up. She felt embarrassed about putting a guest in Davy's bed earlier but there hadn't been time to do anything else, Dana had needed a bed urgently. She showed her guest the bathroom, where to find extra towels and urged her to make herself at home. Paula had decided that she liked her unexpected visitor and she certainly felt for her plight. It was actually quite good to have something to distract her from her concern for Rod who was getting too involved in his case. 'And if you're hungry, anytime, for heavens sake help yourself to something to eat.' Scully was left trying to stammer her thanks. Being taken in by total strangers was a new experience for her.
As the women moved back into the kitchen Rod stormed back down the passageway. 'The answer in no!' he informed Paula.
'I know that,' she said mildly. 'I told him you'd say that but he wanted to hear it himself.'
'He's only fourteen.'
'I know.'
'Even if it weren't for this case there is still no way I would let him go. Not just a group of kids on their own.' He sat at the table with a sigh. 'Maybe next year.'
'Hmm.' She was non-committal. She patted him on the shoulder. 'Anyway, I'm going to bed. I only stayed up to see how you both were.'
Rod smiled. 'Well Dana's got good news anyway.'
Scully told her about Mulder being off the ventilator.
'That's great. They'll probably move him onto a ward tomorrow.' She looked at her husband concerned. 'What's your news?'
He spread his hands and shrugged. 'I don't know love. I'll talk to you later. Okay?'
'Okay.' She kissed him lightly on the top of his bald spot.
When she'd gone Rod stood up. 'What say I make us a milo?' He saw Scully's puzzled face. 'That's a hot chocolate drink. Just what mothers feed their children when they want them to sleep.'
Scully smiled. 'That sounds good.' She had brought hers and Mulder's carry on bags into the kitchen and was checking through hers to see if anything had gone missing in the twenty four hours it had been unattended. Everything seemed to be there, passport, purse, all her cards and money, US and NZ dollars still there. She even seemed to have gained the magazine that she'd been looking through before chaos broke loose. Some one had obviously taken good care of their gear.
Rod found cups, milk and milo powder. When he had the milk heating he turned back to her. 'What do you do in the FBI Dana?'
Scully smiled. How would this man take it? One way to find out. 'We work in the X Files...' She watched the incredulity on his face as she explained their work but there was no sign of ridicule. He asked a few intelligent questions and seemed very interested in their investigation methods and resources. 'Our closure rate is one of the best in the FBI,' she finished proudly. She sipped from her mug. The drink was chocolaty, slightly malty and not too sweet. It was soothing, or maybe it was just tiredness making her so sleepy.
'When you say we, how big's your department?'
She had to smile at that. 'No. When I say " we", I mean Mulder and me. Period. Just us.' She picked up her passport and glanced at the photo. She'd changed a lot since that was taken, when, seven years ago.
'You work together?' He was astounded. That sort of arrangement was frowned on in his own force.
'Yes, we're partners. Ah,' the penny dropped. 'It's alright. I know what you thought. Partners is an ambiguous word. That's what we are though. Close, but not that close. We're best friends.' God, she thought, shut up. The lady doth protest too much. She turned the pages of her passport as a thought struck her. She opened Mulder's bag and found his passport near the top of a jumble of his belongings. She opened it and looked up at the senior police officer sitting across from her. 'Rod, how did our passports get stamped?'
He shrugged and spread his hands. 'It's not what you know,' he said slyly. 'It's who you know.'
'mmm.' Scully took a deep breath and made her decision. 'Tell me about your case Rod. Can I help?'
She watched him. He looked pleased, and then he looked guilty. ' No Dana, it's alright. You don't have to do that.'
'That's why you came to the hospital yesterday isn't it? You've heard about Mulder and you want his help.'
'Well yes,' he said uncomfortably. He'd already had Mulder's passport checked and knew that he did have the right man. The fact that he'd been profiling serial killers at the age of 25 was a little frightening. He was very much looking forward to meeting this man properly. 'I had thought that. But now it doesn't seem fair.'
'I'll tell you what,' Scully said. 'Tell me. Now, quietly and unofficially and see if I can help. I know you're really worried about it. I might be able to see things from a different perspective.' She smiled and gestured at her mug. 'It does seem to be the least I can do.'
He chewed his lip and gave a brief nod. 'Okay. This may not seem much to you, but here, in this town, this is a big thing. Things like this don't happen in New Zealand.' He opened his briefcase and pulled out a file. He found a photograph and handed it to Scully. The photo was a studio portrait of a pretty dark skinned girl. Her curly black hair framed a happy face with laughing brown eyes and a gappy smile. 'Hinemoa Turoa,' Rod said. 'Eight years old, older sister to two brothers, doing well at school.' He paused and then reeled off more facts. 'Maori mother, pakeha father. Happy and friendly. Brownie Guide, adored by her family and everyone who knew her.' He pulled out another photo and threw it on the table. A polaroid, the same child, blue and cold on an autopsy table. 'Kidnapped from the Santa Parade. Murdered. Drowned. Tied to a boogie board and floated down the estuary on an outgoing tide.' He raised haunted eyes to Scully. 'That is my case.'
Scully looked at the photos. A child. A dark haired child. 'What have you got?' she asked.
'Not much. She was at the Santa Parade with her parents, younger brothers and six cousins, nine children for the adults to watch. The parade is a big thing, thousands of people along the route, around a hundred floats. A real family affair. The Turoa family was about half way along the route. The end of the parade passed them about mid day and they started to walk back to catch their bus. They had to walk back along the street in the same direction as the parade was moving and there were hundreds of people going in all directions. They passed an icecream vendor and stopped to let the children spend their pocket money. That was when they noticed Hinemoa wasn't with them.
'That was Saturday. The next she was seen was Monday morning... By an early morning surfer as her body rolled in the waves where the estuary runs into the sea.' He checked his notes. 'She had been dead approximately twenty four hours. She was drowned... In what was probably tap water, before she'd been put in the river. No sign of sexual assault, rope burns on wrists and ankles, torn nails suggesting she fought back.'
His hands went to his hair. ' Facts. Nothing. We've interviewed hundreds of people who were at the parade.' He looked up at Scully. 'The police are pursuing their enquiries'
'You have got something else though haven't you?' she asked quietly.
He made a frustrated hissing noise. 'Yees. But I have no proof this has anything to do with it.' He took two sheets of well folded paper out of his pocket and smoothed them out. 'These are copies obviously. This note was addressed to me personally and arrived in my office the Wednesday before the Santa Parade. My secretary nearly binned it but changed her mind and filed it.'
He gave a little grunt and offered a wry smile. 'It's an X File. My secretary has a slightly eccentric filing system. These things used to go in W for weird, but that drawer is full, so now they go in the drawer underneath.'
'X,' Scully smiled.
'Yes.'
'After Hinemoa disappeared she remembered it and showed me. I'm sure it's from our man.'
He passed the note over and Scully read :
TIS THE SEASON OF INNOCENTS.
INNOCENCE WILL BE LOST.
'Innocents, innocence? Spelling mistake or deliberate?' She looked at him. 'I think it's deliberate don't you?'
Rod nodded. He then passed her the second note. 'This arrived yesterday morning. Addressed to me.'
A TIME OF INNOCENTS.
A TIME OF SORROW
'Saturday night,' Rod continued, 'is the big free Christmas in the Park concert. Over one hundred and twenty thousand people attended last year, half of those were children.' He put his head in his hands. ' I don' t know what to do.'
'You can't stop it?' Scully asked quietly.
'On the basis of that?' He gave a mirthless laugh. 'No.'
'No,' Scully agreed.
He tapped the notes. 'First one postmarked Merivale, second Hoonhay. They're suburbs on opposite sides of town. Not that Christchurch is very big. Common computer paper, inkjet printer. No prints.' He shook his head. 'And nothing to tie either of them in to anything.'
'Nothing to show that Hinemoa's death is linked to anything either,' Scully said. 'It could be a coincidence.'
'I tell myself that. But I have no way of knowing until Sunday morning do I? When we see if we've got any kids missing from the concert. Shit!' He thumped the table. 'The bastard has already defiled the Santa Parade. Christmas in the Park is another tradition that will never be the same. It's changed already for us. We've always gone as a family, but not this year.'
'Paula is working and you'll be there but you won't be enjoying it.'
'Precisely. No way Brad and his mates are going unaccompanied either.'
'You can't warn the public without inciting panic...'
'And possibly ruining the concert,' he finished ruefully. 'The council is not being very understanding.'
'A hundred and twenty thousand people,' Scully murmured.
'mmm. And one more child that won't be opening presents on Christmas morning.'
Scully found herself biting back a yawn. 'Let me take the file to bed. I'll have a look at the PM results and see if I can tell you anything.'
'No. No way.' Rod gathered up his papers and shoved them back in his case. 'It's late. You need to sleep. If you're a good girl I'll let you come into the office when you get bored of the hospital. You can see them there.'
She yawned again. ''kay. Deal.' She went to put Mulder's passport back and realised she hadn't checked his wallet. His bag was a mess, tissues, sweet wrappers, she felt around. Yuck. Husks of sunflower seeds. Wallet... What's this? Small, square, plush? 'Oh.' She pulled the little box out. 'Oh!'
The little crimson jeweller's box sat on her palm. She looked at Rod, her eyes wide with astonishment, her mouth a perfect circle.
Rod smiled. She looked a picture. 'That's good news then is it?'
'I... I..' she stammered, shaking her head and nodding at the same time. Trembling slightly she reached towards the box with her other hand. Rod's hand came down on hers. 'Don't open it!'
She looked at him puzzled. 'Let the poor guy catch a bit of your surprise. He's the one who should have seen what I've just seen.'
'I need to know if... if what's in there, really is still in there,' she said, her voice low and husky.
'Let me.' He took the box and opened it below the table top, out of her sight. He looked up, smiling widely. 'It's still there,' he said quietly. He couldn't help himself 'And it's beautiful.' He looked at Scully's pale face then tucked the box back into the bag, piling Mulder's rubbish back on top. 'You are going to have to work very hard at being surprised. Aren't you.'
'mmm,' Scully nodded, her eyes full of tears. Oh Mulder. I wondered. I thought you might be up to something. Oh god! She stood up. 'At least I've got time to think of a good answer,' she mumbled. 'I think I'd better go to bed.' She turned back as she got to the door, thinking of something. 'Rod, there is one thing I can do. Not for your case, for you. Let me take your children to the concert. They shouldn't have to miss out and I promise they'll be safe with me.'
'You don't have to do that.'
'I know. I'd like to. I'm going to be a bit tired of sitting at Mulder's bedside by then. What else have I got to do?'
'I'll have a word with Paula,' he said. 'But I think that sounds a great idea. You'll enjoy it. There's fireworks and everything. The boys will be pleased.'
'Good.' She turned to go.
'Dana,' he called softly. 'Pleasant dreams.'
- - - - - - - - -