Same story, but edited with some minor changes. There were so many mistakes in the first version. I probably didn't get all of them, but it should read a lot better.
From the car, Harry watched the pub. It was the third day of the stakeout, and they'd gotten nothing for their trouble so far. Harry scanned the road for their man. A few cars passed by, two girls walked along the pavement, an old man with a dog. Nothing. The lack of results, as well as the light drizzle, were depressing. She ran the windscreen wipers. Sighing, she fixed her gaze on the Canton Arms again. The car door opened. Dempsey jumped into the Ford.
"I hate this weather!" He muttered. "I hate it!" With cold fingers, he fumbled to open the brown paper bag.
"I know, you tell me every day."
"Here." Dempsey gave Harry an apple from the paper bag.
"Thanks." Harry watched him pull a sandwich from the bag. "What's that?"
Dempsey glanced at her.
"Huh?"
"That!" Her lips curled in disgust.
"This, Makepeace, is bread...yep, definitely bread. And meat...I think. And sauce, a lotta sauce."
He gave a small grunt of pleasure as he took a bite. "Delicious! Wanna a bite?"
"No thanks." The apple was a lot more appealing.
"Eh, life is hard Makepeace." He winked at her, with a lopsided grin. The truth was he wasn't eating nearly as much junk as he used to.
Harry checked her watch. Still, an hour and a half to go until Chas and Dave would relieve them.
"What a waste of time." Dempsey gave her a suggestive smile. "You know, Makepeace. There are a lotta things we could be doing right now."
"Yes, we could." Harry mused. "I could be playing the piano. Read a book. Or shop, I definitely need some new shoes.". She took another bite of her apple. Dempsey feigned disappointment, as Harry gave him a complacent look.
"Watts has no permanent address. Not one that we know of. I suppose he doesn't really need one to deal." Dempsey surmised. "But this pub's his usual hangout. He's bound to show up at some point."
"Yep"
"Perhaps I oughta go inside, have a look? Talk to the bartender?"
"Dempsey, we are supposed to observe, and call in for instructions when Watts arrives."
"Well, we could both go. You can protect me in case anyone wants to shoot me, huh?" He quipped, referring to the time Crazy Joe nearly killed him.
"You know, Dempsey? That joke is getting very old. If you don't shut up about it, I'll bloody well shoot you myself!" She retorted, watching him finish his sandwich. "Unless, of course, you die from a heart attack first."
"Yeah, okay." He shrugged and wiped his mouth. "Won't mention it again."
When she returned to the force, she thought long and hard about how things were going to be. Whether she could work with Dempsey again. She cared. She cared a lot. For a while now. Such was the nature of the job; it was almost inevitable. They spent most of their time together, and their partnership was effective. She now knew he cared too. It balanced things out for her. They had both invested in the partnership. In the end, she resigned herself to the fact she perhaps cared too much, put it aside as a given, and focus again on the police work she loved doing. With Dempsey. Spikings observed their working relationship more keenly those first few weeks after her return. Unsure, whether his top team could pick up where they left off. It surprised Harry how quickly they managed to get back to business as usual. After a few weeks, Spikings eased on the extra attention he paid them.
"Makepeace!"
Her thoughts interrupted, Harry looked up. Dempsey pointed.
"There's our man".
"Yep."
Toby Watts came around the corner, walking in their direction. Then he stepped off the pavement to cross the street. A few seconds later he entered the pub and was out of sight again.
"You wanna call it in? Makepeace?"
She wasn't listening. From the other side of the street, a middle-aged, thickset man approached them. Harry watched him pass the Ford. Without looking around, shoulders hunched in the rain, the balding man hurried across the street and disappeared inside the pub.
"Harry? You know that guy?"
"Yes." Harry called to mind what she knew about the man. "Chas arrested him a few years ago, for trafficking drugs." Her fingers played with her hair while she tried to remember the man's name. "Whelan...John Whelan. He got off lightly for some reason; only did a couple of years." Harry turned to Dempsey. "Why would he show up here?"
"Coincidence?"
"I doubt it." Harry picked up the handset of the RT. "Charlie 5 to control, over."
The two men sat three tables away from them. They were too far away for Dempsey and Makepeace to follow the conversation. Judging from the body language, the men were discussing something important.
"They're making plans. I can smell it." Dempsey stated, over his cup of coffee.
"Hmm." Casually, Harry looked out the window, before focusing on her cup of tea again. "Chas and Dave are here."
"Good, then we're all set up."
Heads close together, Whelan and Watts were still talking.
"They're up to something." Dempsey muttered. "Harry."
Whelan shook Watts' hand, stood up and left the pub. Toby Watts remained seated for a few minutes. He finished his drink, then made his way to the door. A few moments after Watts passed the window, Chas walked past, giving Harry a quick nod. Some distance behind him, Dave followed, in his car. Harry faced Dempsey again.
"You wanna order?" Dempsey was thumbing through the menu. "What?"
Deft fingers pulled the menu out of his hands.
"We are expected back at the station."
"You ever do something naughty, Makepeace?"
Harry raised an eyebrow at him, lips curving into a subtle smile, she turned and walked out. Leaving Dempsey with a broad smile on his face. He'd never get tired of provoking these reactions from his partner. He emptied his coffee cup and got up to join her in the car.
When they arrived back at the station, they found Spikings behind his desk, rubbing his head.
"No word from Chas?" Dempsey asked.
"Not yet."
Harry and Dempsey exchanged a quick look. It had been a busy week at SI 10. Two murders. An armed robbery. And, with the arrival of John Whelan, their case was getting bigger and bigger.
The crackling sound of the radio rang through the office. "Goldfish four to control."
Dempsey beat Harry to the radio, which earned him an annoyed look.
"This is control. Whaddya got Chas?"
"Followed Watts to a terraced house in Solon Street, number fifty-two", over."
Harry reached for the radio. Her cold hand covered Dempsey's. She pushed the speak button.
"Do you think he resides there?"
Dempsey would never get tired of these little moments either. Sometimes, when he least expected it, she'd move into his space. The best moments were, when she wasn't even aware of it; like now. Her hand held his, while Harry's mind focused on something else.
"Looks like it. He had the key." Chas answered.
Harry stepped back, to sit behind her computer.
"Fifty-two Solon Street." She murmured, tapping the keys on the keyboard.
"Tell Chas to come in." Spikings called from his office.
While Harry typed away on her computer, Dempsey relayed the message to his colleague. Harry felt his eyes on her, but she didn't have time to react to it. Dempsey moved closer, a little smile on his face. She grimaced but kept on typing.
"And Sergeant… solved the case yet?"
"Nearly there, Leftenant." Harry replied primly.
"Perhaps, you'd like a cuppa coffee, since you're working so hard?" He proposed.
"Very good, Leftenant." Momentarily taking her eyes off the screen. "Make yourself useful."
"I'll get on it straight away, Sergeant." With a small bow, he stepped towards the coffee counter.
"Well, isn't this interesting." Harry sat back in her chair, re-reading the information she found on her computer. "Guess who owns fifty-two Solon Street?"
"Who?" Dempsey handed Harry her coffee. She turned the screen his way.
"Are you kidding me?" The implications of what he was reading, rushed through his brain. "Steven Hardy?"
"Yep!" Harry swallowed a comment on the usefulness of desk work when she saw Dempsey's faraway look.
"This is big, Harry!" He started pacing. "Steven Hardy. The guy came up in several drug investigations, but no one's been able to pin anything on him. I bet he's the mastermind behind all this."
"And the money behind it," Harry added.
Dempsey ran a hand through his hair, "And the money." He nodded. "So we have Watts, Whelan and now Hardy… They're planning something big Harry!"
"So, what now?"
Dempsey stopped pacing. "Whatever we do, we gotta be careful."
"Is Jay back on the street again, do you know?" Harry wondered.
"Jay? I think so, yeah. Why?"
"He used to buy his coke off Watts. Perhaps we should pay him a visit, mmm?"
"Yank his chain a bit?" Dempsey rubbed his hands together. "Should be fun."
"Well you can yank all you want, but I've had enough for today. I'm going home."
"We'll visit him tomorrow." Dempsey put on his coat. "You wanna pick up some take-away and go to my place?"
"I've already got something prepared at home." She grabbed her bag and keys and headed for the door. "But you're welcome to share."
Initially, when she came back, she held off on privately spending time with Dempsey. Making excuses not to go for a drink, or go see a movie. At work, things quickly fell back into place. Thanks to Dempsey who, aside from making the odd joke, never asked for explanations. After a while, she accepted one of his invitations. More followed. Put aside any other feelings she had for her partner, he was also still her friend, and she enjoyed his company. The conversations they had, she couldn't imagine having with anybody else. The things she'd find herself discussing with him were diverse. His insights were surprising. Dempsey's original mind was as attractive to her as the rest of him was.
They walked up the stairs of a grotty apartment building. The pungent smell in the hallway was repulsive. Jay's apartment was on the second floor. They knocked on the door.
"What if he's not there?"
"We'll wait." Dempsey answered.
Harry looked around the hallway, a disgusted look on her face. The door opened before she could express her disgust.
"Hiya Jay, what's up?" Dempsey said brightly.
Jay's face fell as he looked from one to the other.
"Enjoying freedom?" Moving past Jay, Harry walked into the small apartment, followed by Dempsey.
Jay protested: "Hey! You can't just barge in here."
"Watch me!" Dempsey surveyed the room. "Very nice place you got here Jay. Very nice." He picked up a small zip lock plastic bag from the table and held it up to show Harry. "Not sure this is a good idea."
"Tsk tsk." Harry wagged a finger at Jay.
"What do you want?" The young man queried.
"We'd like some information on Toby Watts."
"I don't know anything, Sergeant. Honest!" Jay crept toward the door.
Dempsey gave Harry a shrug before he grabbed Jay by the collar and drove him into the wall. Jay yelped in pain.
"How's this, Jay; you tell the Sergeant what she wants to know. And we don't bust you for possession of illegal drugs. You might even still have all your teeth by the time we leave."
"Even still, Dempsey?" Harry rolled her eyes.
"What?"
Harry sighed, turning her attention back to Jay.
"We have reason to believe Toby is working on something. He's been in contact with some very interesting people." Dempsey held Jay in place against the wall. The young man's expression of pain couldn't conceal the flash of recognition in his eyes.
"These people are setting something up." Harry continued. "And you're going to tell us what you know."
Jay considered his options, while Dempsey slowly increased the pressure on Jay's larynx until he started coughing.
"Alright, alright!"
"Smart guy." Dempsey let go and straightened Jay's jacket.
"I don't know much. These people are into smuggling cocaine. Lots of it." Jay cleared his throat. "The whisper on the street is: they're arranging for a huge shipment to be smuggled into the country."
"Who?" Harry asked.
"When?" Dempsey demanded.
"Don't know, next couple of months." Jay seemed uncomfortable. "Look, that's all I know, alright?"
Dempsey gave Jay a benign smile. He wasn't finished with the young man yet. "These drugs coming from South America?"
"Probably."
A hand clenched around Jay's collar again. "What's that?"
"Yeah, yeah. South America."
"Where are they shipping to?" Harry asked.
Despite the chill in the apartment, beads of sweat trickled down Jay's face. "I heard Whelan usually ships his stuff straight to the London docks." He swallowed hard. "Don't know where exactly. That's all I know, honest."
Harry and Dempsey exchanged a quick look.
"We didn't mention Whelan, Jay." Harry said softly. Jay closed his eyes as he realised his mistake.
"We appreciate your help, Jay. That's all for now." Dempsey patted him on the shoulder and went for the door.
"If we have any more questions..." A wink at Jay and Harry followed her partner out the door; back into the hallway. "Let's get out of here."
They drove back to the station, in silence. Neither of them had anything to say, just yet. Both were reflecting on the next step, viewing the case from different angles. Dempsey glanced over at his partner. Eyes on the road, she paid attention to the traffic, but he knew her mind was busy putting pieces together. What would he have done if Harry hadn't returned to SI 10? Gone back to New York? He couldn't remember when London became 'home' to him. He still loved to grumble about the English. The weather. The language and the food, but it was all in good fun. He didn't really want to leave. If he was honest, Harry was a large part of that.
"You think I like working in this dump without you?" The admission that got her back. Spikings had told him she cared. Strong, capable and composed Harriet Makepeace cared, about him. He was still reeling from that one. He'd been very careful not to push her away by confronting her. Intuitively, he felt Harry struggled to find her feet. She had difficulty relating to him and working with him again. He didn't interfere with her struggle. However, he was glad when equilibrium was restored. They were Dempsey and Makepeace again; he could breathe more freely. His musings were disturbed when Harry turned into the SI 10 car park.
Sitting behind his desk, Spikings mulled over the latest information. "Chas and Dave also had an exciting morning. They were tailing Whelan. Guess where they ended up?"
"The docks?"
Spikings pointed his finger at Dempsey, indicating he was right.
"Exactly Leftenant." He started pacing his office. "A large shipment coming from South America." He halted next to Harry. "We'll have to catch them in the act when this shipment arrives, Sergeant… Sergeant?"
Harry was miles away, Dempsey noticed.
"Sorry, I wasn't listening." Harry apologised.
"Makepeace, you are paid to listen to me." Spikings berated.
"Well, sir, I was thinking about Steven Hardy."
"Yes?"
"My father's acquainted with the Hardy family. Not sure how well he knows them, but I'm sure he's done business with the family."
Spikings considered the options. "Very good Sergeant. Perhaps, he has some useful background information."
"Perhaps." Harry agreed. "I'll have to go and see him. He is hopeless talking on the phone."
"Well, Sergeant. It's Friday. If you leave this afternoon, you will have the whole weekend to talk."
Dempsey followed Harry out of Spikings' office.
"I'll call first to see if he's busy." Harry grabbed her phone and dialled.
Dempsey played with his pen as he listened in on Harry's conversation with her father.
"...I'd like to talk to you about a case we're working on. I think you might know one of the people involved."
"Oh my, that sounds intriguing." Lord Winfield said. "What's it about?"
"I'll tell you later. You're not busy?" Harry asked.
"Heavens no. Never to busy for you, my dear. So, what time will you and James get here?"
"Uhm... Well, it's just going to be me, daddy. I thought I'd stay the weekend."
"Nonsense! Bring James too. It's for work isn't it?"
Harry glared at her partner. "He probably has better things to do this weekend, Freddie."
Dempsey gave Harry a lopsided grin. He'd guessed what lord Winfield had requested.
"Would you mind checking my dear?" Lord Winfield suggested. "It'd be jolly good to see him again. We didn't have enough time to talk, last time he was here. Such an interesting fellow."
Interesting fellow. Sighing, Harry covered the mouthpiece with her hand.
"My father wants to invite you to Winfield Hall."
Relishing the moment, Dempsey took his time to think about the offer.
"Tell Lord Winfield I'd love to join you guys."
With an annoyed look, Harry put the phone back to her ear.
"Depending on how busy it is, we'll be there late in the afternoon." She told her father.
"Ah, very good, very good. I'll see you two later."
Dempsey put on his coat and headed towards the door. His hand nudged Harry's shoulder as he walked past her.
"Pick you up in an hour." Then he was gone.
Harry rubbed her brow, before pushing a lock of hair away from her face. Dempsey was already so close to her. Because of work. Because of the natural affinity, they had for each other. Harry sighed. There was no doubt Dempsey knew her; her character. What was important to her, what made her angry, what made her laugh, her strengths, her vulnerabilities. Much like she'd gotten to know him. She didn't talk about herself with Dempsey; about her life, memories. An automatic defence mechanism. Keeping these little facts to herself helped to maintain a grip on their relationship. It gave her a sense of control. She needed it to contain her emotions. Otherwise, she'd have no choice but to give in to his flirtations. Dempsey, of course, did nothing but talk about himself. For a moment their contrasting characters amused her. Then she stood to leave.
Lord Winfield met them in the entrance hall.
"Ah. Harriet, dear!" Smiling broadly, he walked over to his daughter. Dempsey watched Harry put her arms around her father in a loving embrace.
"Hello, Freddie."
She kissed her father gently on the cheek. Such open displays of affection were rare. It intrigued Dempsey that the warm and relaxed woman who was smiling fondly at her father, and his cool, calm and collected partner, were the same person.
"James!" An arm still around his daughter, Lord Winfield extended his hand to Dempsey. "So good of you to come. We'll have time to talk, this time."
"I appreciate the invite, sir."
"We do have something specific to talk to you about." Harry started.
"Huh?"
"I told you on the phone. About the case, we're working on?"
"Later dear, later! Right now you should hurry up and get ready. We have guests for dinner."
Harry gave her father an exasperated look.
"Freddie, why didn't you tell me you were entertaining?"
"They're not staying over, Harriet, dear. We'll have plenty of time to talk, tomorrow."
Glad he brought a suit, Dempsey straightened his tie. Harry came down in a burgundy cocktail dress. These days, beautiful wasn't the first word that entered his mind when he thought of Harry. However, there were moments she took his breath away. Smiling, she took the arm he offered her. Making their way to the dining room, Dempsey saw his partner changing into Lady Harriet; putting on the 'game face' she used for these occasions. To his surprise, it turned out to be an enjoyable evening. Dempsey entertained the guests with his American charm and his anecdotes. Harry wondered how it was possible Dempsey could fit in with people from different layers of society. At home in lowly surroundings. At ease with the upper class. He was always Dempsey.
"Harriet?"
"Mmm?" She leaned towards her father next to her.
"Would you mind asking Abbott to bring in the coffee, please?"
"Of course."
At ten o' clock, Harry excused herself and left the party to make her way upstairs. The footsteps she heard behind her were Dempsey's. She slowed a bit to let him catch up.
"Your old man sure knows how to throw a dinner party."
"Well, he's given quite a few." Harry took a quick sideways glance. "You were also in good form tonight. The crowd at your feet." The words were accentuated in that distinctive way she had. Harry halted at the door of her room and put her hand on the door handle.
Goodnight Dempsey, see you tomorrow.
She found herself facing him.
"You know, Makepeace. I could show you some more good form if you want." He leaned in a bit. An impish grin on his face, a hand on the doorpost. As she inhaled, Harry got the familiar smell of his aftershave. That intense look made her temporarily blind and deaf to anything going on around her. She exhaled, pointing a finger towards the end of the hallway.
"Your room's over there."
Dempsey expected she'd decline his offer. That's what he counted on; Harry controlled the brakes in their partnership. He smiled, then moved back a bit and put his hands in his pockets.
"Goodnight, Dempsey." Harry opened the door and entered her room.
"Still think I got a fifty-fifty shot, at least, of getting lucky, someday." The door didn't offer a reply. Wishful thinking? Maybe, but she was definitely tempted.
Saturday morning, Dempsey found Harry in the breakfast room reading the Saturday paper.
"I hope your good form gave you a good night's sleep." Harry put a piece of toast in her mouth.
"Excellent night's sleep." He nodded. "Your father not around?"
"He's around somewhere, doing something." She shrugged. "I've learned not to interfere with his habits and rituals."
Dempsey poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down to eat.
"So how come you're always commenting on mine?" He winked.
The paper was more interesting than Dempsey's joke. Quietly, they finished their breakfast.
Harry folded her napkin and tossed it on the table.
"Do you mind venturing out on your own for a bit? There are a few things I'd like to take care of while I'm here."
"No problem. I'll just have a look round the castle. Maybe go out for a drive or something." Dempsey reached over to pick up a part of the paper. Harry finished her coffee.
"I'll be in the study if you need me."
"Fine. See ya, later." Dempsey waved, keeping his eyes on the front page of the paper.
He took his time roaming around the castle. It was an interesting experience, knowing Harry a lot better. The last time he was here, he didn't pay much attention to the personal stuff. They had a case to solve. Now, he looked around, aware of the fact this was the home where Harriet Makepeace grew up. Not that he knew much about art, but Winfield Hall had a few pieces he liked. Especially, the gallery with large paintings of the Lord and Harry's ancestors. The last room he visited was the cosy lounge the family used as a sitting room. It had a large display of framed family pictures, Dempsey couldn't remember looking at before. A few old black and white photo's of, what must have been, Harry's grandfather and great-grandfather. Posing on horseback, hunting rifle in hand. Some pictures were taken abroad. He saw a young lord Winfield in uniform. A wedding photo; he picked it up. At her house, Harry didn't have any family pictures downstairs. He vaguely remembered there were a few in her bedroom. However, the two times he had been in there, he had other things on his mind. He looked at the photo again. Harry did look like her mother. She had inherited her father's blue eyes, but her face and smile resembled her mother's. Harry's mother had been a stunningly beautiful woman. Dempsey walked over to another cabinet. Recent pictures were displayed there. Pictures of Harry at different ages. He couldn't help chuckling. It was clear, she didn't like posing for photos. He recognised the steely look of determination, he'd seen so often. It was already present when she was a child. The last picture that caught his eye was a beautiful photo of a teenaged Harriet with her mother. Their faces close together, smiling broadly. Lord Winfield had been a lucky man.
By the time he returned after his drive, it was already late in the afternoon. Abbott pointed him toward the study, where Lord Winfield and his daughter were having a cup of tea.
"Ah, James. There you are! Have some tea. I hope you had an enjoyable day?"
"Yeah, very enjoyable."
Harry handed him a cup. He paused, looking at Harry.
"Maybe, we should discuss the reason we're here." Lord Winfield gestured to go on.
"Freddie, we're working on this case, and a familiar name came up. I think you might know the family." Harry began.
"Yes?"
"Hardy. Steven Hardy."
Lord Winfield leaned back in his chair.
"Yes, of course. They have a house in Kensington."
Harry nodded "Gilston road, yes." Dempsey took a seat next to her.
"I knew Peter Hardy quite well. Good man. A Lieutenant General during the war. I did liaison work at the war office and I worked with him quite a bit." Lord Winfield took a sip from his tea. "After the war, we did some business. I invested in a few of his projects. All very satisfactory. Had a few nice dinners with him and his Mrs."
"Steven's his son, I presume?" Harry asked. "Can you tell me anything about him?"
"Peter and his wife had three children. Two daughters had already married and moved out of the house. I don't think I ever met them. The youngest was his son Steven." Lord Winfield paused. "Now, he was a tricky fellow."
"Tricky?" Dempsey sat up a bit straighter in his chair.
Harry gave her father a keen look.
"How?" She queried.
"He was still at university at the beginning of the war. They kicked him out at some point. Peter never commented on it, but I heard Steven blackmailed a couple of members of the board of governors. Nasty business."
"Nice guy." Dempsey remarked wryly.
"Not really. Peter did his best to involve him in the family business. Tried to straighten him out." Lord Winfield paused. "But there were rumours Steven did some shady dealings on the side." He stared out the window, not speaking for a couple of minutes.
"Peter died about ten years after the war. Steven still lived at his parents' house with his young family." Lord Winfield continued. "After Peter's death, he remained at the Kensington house, took control of the family business. After that, I never had any contact with the Hardy family. Apart from seeing them at certain social events."
"Hardy has kids?" Dempsey asked.
"Two children I think. A son and a daughter. That's all I know."
Harry brushed her hair from her face.
"Duffy might know a bit more." Lord Winfield said. "He's in business with a partner of Steven's. I'll ask him what he knows."
"Uncle Duffy? Hmm. He does have an interesting social network, doesn't he?" Lord Winfield gave Harry an enigmatic smile.
"He does indeed."
"That would be very helpful. Thanks, Freddie."
After a small supper, they settled in the lounge with a brandy. Pleasantly rosy from the brandy, Harry installed herself in the large armchair, with a book. She was happy her father and Dempsey got along so well. Somehow, it mattered. By the time she left the room to go to bed, the two men were still telling each other war stories.
Sunday morning breakfast was brought to his room. Lying on his bed, Dempsey surveyed the grounds while eating his toast and eggs. The weekend had been very enjoyable. Who would have thought he'd feel at home in a castle. That he'd get along with the English aristocracy. He took his time getting dressed. But it was still early when he walked down the stairs into the entrance hall. He didn't expect to find Harry there with her coat on, getting ready to go outside.
"Hi, good morning!"
"Good morning." She looked somewhat startled to see him.
It made him curious.
"You going out?"
"Just going for a walk." She was already halfway to the door.
"Mind if I tag along?"
Harry hesitated. For a minute he thought she'd say no.
"Hey, if you wanna be alone..."
She stared at her feet. Then she looked up at him.
"No it's fine, you can come along if you want."
It was a beautiful morning. Cool and crisp with a clear sky. Dempsey felt perfectly content walking next to Harry. Apart from the sound of the birds and the wind in the trees, the world was quiet.
They wandered through a piece of woodland and across a field. Occasionally, Harry pointed out wildlife to him. Eventually, they got to a gravel road running alongside a thick green hedgerow. Dempsey felt they had moved away from the castle making a wide circle around the estate. His eye on the sun, he knew they were now moving back towards the castle. Behind the hedgerows, he could make out something that looked like stones.
"Looks like a cemetery or something."
"It is. That's the old burial ground." Harry confirmed. "There are fourteenth-century graves here."
"Your ancestors?"
"Yes. When the current house was built, a new grave site was made. They stopped maintaining this one." She glanced over the hedgerow. "It's completely overgrown."
After about 200 yards the gravel road widened. A high stone wall replaced the hedgerow.. Harry pointed at the wall.
"This is the new grave site."
When she opened a gate in the wall, it dawned on Dempsey why they were there. And why she'd been reluctant to let him join her on her walk. Encircled by the stone wall, this graveyard was very well maintained. Two steps behind, Dempsey followed Harry as she moved towards a white marble gravestone. He walked past her to sit on a wooden bench close by. The name on the headstone confirmed his previous thought.
Lady Caroline Helena Winfield
Harry left the gravestone and sat next to Dempsey. She remained silent for so long. He thought she wouldn't speak. Harry met his gaze.
"It was a silly accident. We were in the garden when she slipped. It had rained before, and the tiles were slippery. Mum fell backwards and hit her head on the stone tiles. I helped her get up. She was fine. She just laughed it off, and we went back inside." Harry paused, leaning back against the backrest of the bench. "After a few hours, she got a headache. She had trouble speaking and walking. Freddie called the doctor, and she was taken to hospital. By the time she got there, she was already comatose. An epidural haematoma. A build-up of blood putting pressure on the brain." Harry explained, subconsciously running her hand over her head.
"They operated on her, but the damage was already done." Then softly. "Mum died the next day."
Dempsey put his hand on Harry's leg, gently squeezing it, before pulling back his hand.
"You were what? Fifteen? Or..."
"I was sixteen." She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "It was a tough time. Making the arrangements, and the funeral. It was all a bit of a blur. Freddie found it very difficult to adjust to life without her." Harry shrugged, shaking her head. "It took him years to recover. He still avoids the subject." She gave Dempsey a wry smile. "Sometimes, I think the only reason he kept on breathing was because of me. Yet, he was so heartbroken, even I couldn't reach him. Not those first years." Harry paused, looking down at her hands. "Going to university was almost a relief. To have different surroundings; focus on something else."
Dempsey caught the brief lopsided grin as she remembered.
"Ah, a few interesting stories there, I bet. Do tell, Makepeace!"
Harry made a face. "I don't think so, Dempsey."
Dempsey raised his hands in mock disappointment. She laughed.
"Let's just say, the second year I concentrated on the curriculum."
Dempsey waited for her to elaborate, but Harry didn't follow through on her story. He treasured those scant moments when she shared these details with him. He knew the important things that made up Harriet Makepeace. Certain parts of her life, she kept to herself. However, slowly but surely, bit by bit, Harry was giving up ground to him. He wondered how much she'd reveal.
Blue eyes stared at him.
"Dempsey?"
"Huh?"
Harry showed her watch.
"We should go back. We'll drive home after lunch."
"Yeah, fine." He remained seated for a few moments, then stood to follow Harry.
Monday morning, Spikings had his whole team together for a briefing on the current case. Spikings summarised: they had the names of the three main players. The team knew what these players were setting up, as well as the location.
"Other than that, we got nothing." Dempsey stated.
"Any ideas on how to move forward with the investigation?" Spikings looked around the room. "We have to be very careful. It's imperative we are not discovered investigating. If they get suspicious, we're buggered."
"We should keep an eye on the docks." Harry suggested.
"Yes." Spikings nodded. "It would be very helpful if we knew where the shipment is coming from."
"And when." Dempsey added.
"Right. Chas and Dave will do surveillance on Hardy; see what he gets up to. Fry and Watson are on Whelan. Makepeace? You and Dempsey can have a look at the docks." Spikings ended the briefing and went back to his office, leaving the door open.
"Hey, Chas. D'you remember if there was something like an office at the docks?" Dempsey asked.
"We only watched Whelan from a distance; I didn't want him to see us." Chas said. "But he spent at least an hour in this warehouse. It had a number painted on it. Warehouse five. Can't miss it."
"Thanks, Chas." Dempsey put on his coat, then motioned for Harry to come along.
"I haven't finished my coffee yet."
"Take it with you! Come on!"
Reluctantly, Harry got to her feet. A booming voice came from the Superintendent's office.
"Dempsey? You're not to be seen or heard! Do you understand? No gunfights please!"
"You know me, chief."
"Dempsey?"
Dempsey grinned. "I'll be as subtle as usual, boss."
Harry nearly choked on her coffee. Coughing, she glared at her partner, as if he was to blame for her predicament.
"Careful there, Sergeant. Come on." He pushed her towards the door, at the same time patting her on the back to help clear her throat.
There was little activity at the docks. A handful of men loading and unloading a ship. From where the car was parked, they had a good overview of the quay and the warehouses. Harry prodded Dempsey's arm.
"Over there." The warehouse was slightly smaller than the others. A large Five painted on it.
"Could be some sorta office, I guess." Dempsey proposed. "It's not in a convenient position for storage."
A man carrying a pile of folders entered warehouse five.
Dempsey and Makepeace nodded in agreement.
"Yep, office." Harry said.
The next hour they sat, taking in every detail of the dock. Mapping it out. Getting a feel for the place and the kind of people that worked there.
Eventually, Dempsey broke the silence.
"How 'bout I have a stroll around? Get a closer look." He gripped the door handle. "Better if I go alone. You'll stick out like a sore thumb over there."
"Thanks for that, Dempsey."
"Well, we don't wanna call attention to ourselves, do we?"
Dempsey stepped out of the car and walked towards the quay. Harry kept her eyes on the familiar frame of her partner. She knew how he would approach this. He pulled up the collar of his coat, staring straight ahead. Like he had every business being there. Again, his ability to fit in anywhere amazed her. First, he checked the large warehouses on the far left. He disappeared behind them. Harry picked him up again when he reached the quay. With purposeful steps, he walked the length of the pier. For a minute, he stopped and looked out over the water before making his way back to the warehouses. Dempsey waited for the right moment to get close to warehouse five. Harry watched Dempsey turn his head to the right and left. No one. Quickly, her partner made his way to warehouse five. Appearing as if he worked there, he passed the building. Then he changed direction again and came back to the car.
"There's one window on the side of the building." Dempsey recounted. "Definitely the place where they keep the papers."
Harry scoped the area. "Hmm."
"What?"
"It's not very busy is it?" She raised both her hands. "Just look… It's Monday morning."
Dempsey looked at the dock again and nodded slowly.
"Time to go back to the station, Makepeace. You need to get on your computer. Find out what company does business here."
"Fleetwood Shipping company." Harry read from her computer screen. "Never heard of it." Spikings rubbed his head, indicating the name wasn't familiar to him either.
"Hmm." Her fingers flew over the keyboard again. After a while Harry leaned back in her chair. "Fleetwood Shipping is owned by GSM Incorporated, which is owned by?" The smile was triumphant.
"… Hardy?" Dempsey guessed.
"Bingo."
"We'll tap his phone." Spikings sauntered back to his office. "I'll arrange that now. Good work."
Dempsey ruffled his hair. "So what now?"
"Maybe, the others have got something."
Surveillance on Whelan and Hardy didn't turn up anything. By the end of the week, the team felt a little discouraged with the lack of good leads. Dempsey and Makepeace had returned to the docks a couple of times, without results. Spikings mood deteriorated to the extent that the team did their best to avoid him. Friday afternoon, Dempsey, Chas and a few others decided to drown their disappointment with a pint or two at the pub. Harry excused herself as she had dinner plans with friends. She was looking forward to a weekend of doing absolutely nothing. Her good intentions went up in smoke when her father called on Saturday morning.
"Harriet, dear. Good morning."
"Freddie. This is a surprise."
"Just wanted to let you know I visited Duffy, yesterday. We had a nice meal, a good glass of red, and, afterwards, an even better glass of whisky." Freddie recounted.
"You talked to uncle Duffy?" Harry was intrigued.
"After a few glasses, Duffy is quite chatty."
"So, what did you chat about?"
"I asked about Hardy. I got the impression that Duffy didn't like him very much. Kept trying to change the subject. Said Hardy had his finger in all kinds of shady business."
"We already suspected that." Harry said. "Anything else?"
"Not sure. Duffy spoke to Paul Hardy, recently. Or rather overheard him talking to somebody else."
"The son?"
"Yes. It seems that Paul was in Caracas, last month."
"Venezuela?" Harry fell quiet, thinking about the implications of what her father told her.
"Not sure if it's useful dear, but that's all Duffy told me."
"This is very useful daddy, thank you!" Harry hung up the phone, immediately picking it up again to dial Dempsey's number.
"Yo!"
"It's me."
"What's up?"
"Freddie just called."
"… New lead?"
"New lead."
"Shoot."
"Paul Hardy was in Caracas last month."
"Venezuela?"
"Yes."
Silence
"Makepeace?"
"Mmm?"
"What are you doing tonight?"
"Dempsey, why do I get the feeling you're going to suggest we do something we're not supposed to do?"
The chuckles worried her.
"Put on something comfortable, babe. I'll pick you up at eight.
Dempsey pretended not to see the questioning look on Harry's face when she stepped into the Mercedes. She sunk back in her seat and Dempsey drove off. The deliberately nonchalant attitude annoyed Harry, but she knew better than to reward him with a reaction. She just breathed deeply and exercised patience. Humming along to a song on the radio, Dempsey navigated the car through the Saturday night traffic. Stoically, Harry gazed out the car window into the dark. As they got nearer, she guessed the destination. Dempsey drove past the empty parking lot at the dock, choosing a place further away to park. Out of sight. He switched off the engine and leaned back in his seat. "You ready?"
"Do you want to break into warehouse five?"
Dempsey answered with a confident grin. "Yep."
"You know, if this blows up in our face, Spikings is going to be very unhappy." She gave Dempsey a stern look.
"Well, you can stay in the car if you want." He offered innocently, knowing Makepeace would never take him up on that.
"No way, Dempsey." Harry opened the door and stepped into the cold evening. Dempsey took two flashlights from the boot and gave one to Makepeace. He'd enjoyed keeping his partner in the dark about their mission. It was always fun to see whether she could contain her annoyance or if she'd make a remark, despite herself. Now that she knew what the plan was, he saw the determination on her face. Her focus on what he wanted them to do. It was a short walk to the docks. They crossed the parking lot. The dock seemed deserted. Quickly, they scanned the area. They exchanged a glance and a nod, then inched towards warehouse five.
Dempsey swore when they reached the door.
"Code lock. Damn!" He inspected the door. "We could get in, but they'd know they had visitors."
"Perhaps, there's another way." Harry was already walking away from him. Dempsey caught up with her at the window.
"Not gonna work either, Harry. Not without it looking like somebody broke in."
Harry sighed. After completing their walk around the warehouse, they stood for a moment, uncertain of what to do next.
"So much for showing you an exciting evening, huh?" Dempsey quipped. "Although we could..." He quit speaking when he saw Harry's expression. "What?"
"Not sure." She gestured. "Come." When they arrived at the window, she pointed up at the ceiling. In the dark, they could make out a...
"Skylight!" Immediately, Dempsey jogged towards the pellets piled up against the warehouse. He climbed on top of the pellets. Then beckoned Harry to do the same. He offered his hand to help her up. The cool hand in his made him think of other things he wished to touch. He got part of his wish when he gave Harry a leg up. A second later she was on the roof. Harry stretched out her hand to help him onto the roof.
With the help of Dempsey's pocket knife, they opened the skylight. They lowered themselves onto the desk standing beneath it. Makepeace jumped off the desk. Carefully, Dempsey let the skylight fall closed again.
The large space was dimly lit through the skylight. Dempsey and Makepeace switched on the flashlights and methodically checked the room. Dempsey opened a few doors.
"This is the main office, for sure." He found the light switch but decided against turning it on. Better to use the flashlight.
"You can start over there. I'll take this one." Harry pointed at a large filing cabinet. Silently, they searched the cabinets. Taking care to replace the files and papers meticulously after reading them.
"Nothing." Dempsey mumbled, he moved on to the next cabinet. Harry sat down behind the desk and opened the top drawer.
"Hmm."
"What?"
"Have a look at this." Harry held up a folder. "This looks like a planning sheet."
Dempsey leaned over her shoulder, hands placed on either side of her. Resisting the urge to stroke her hair with his cheek, he brought her right index finger into focus.
"Look, this is February. Ports of origin, shipping companies, dates."
"Nothing from South America." Dempsey rubbed his chin.
Harry turned the page. "March..."
"Bingo." Dempsey gave Harry a nudge. "La Guaira, Venezuela"
"They haven't filled in the date, yet."
"No, but I bet that's it." Dempsey speculated. "They're arranging a shipment in March."
Harry scanned the papers for more clues. There weren't any. She put the paper back into the drawer and searched the other drawers. Dempsey sauntered around the room again, when he froze on the spot.
"Harry. Hide. Now!" Immediately, she moved. An instant reflex instigated by the urgency in his voice. Now she heard what Dempsey had sensed, a moment earlier. Harry switched off her flashlight, moving as far away from the desk as she could. Sliding down onto the floor, she hid behind a large cabinet. Dempsey rushed to open a sliding door close to him, accessing a small storage room. He switched off his flashlight and slid the door closed, leaving a small gap to peek through. At that moment, a door on the other side of the office opened. A second later, the room bathed in light. Dempsey only had a limited view, but he could see the desk. If he turned his head, he could also see Makepeace. He focussed on the desk. He recognised Whelan and Hardy standing next to it. Two burly men, Dempsey hadn't seen before, stood a little to the side. Muscle, he thought.
Hardy sat down behind the desk opening the drawer Makepeace had opened five minutes earlier.
"How are things on the other end?" Whelan asked.
"Going well, Paul arranged everything with Jimenez. Including the first payment. Jimenez will let me know when our order's complete and ready for shipment." Hardy answered, taking out the folder with the planning sheet. "Then we'll start planning the shipment's arrival and how to process it further."
"Toby can help us there."
Harry tried very hard to keep her breathing slow and steady. Damn it, Dempsey.
Dempsey saw one of the burly men walking in his direction. Dempsey's eyes darted towards Makepeace. Shit! Quietly, he lifted his gun from its holster, ready for use. The man took a few more steps. If he turned around, Makepeace would be discovered. She pushed her back against the cabinet, making herself as small as possible. Dempsey put his left hand on the sliding door handle. His plan of action already formed in his mind.
"Mike!" Hardy barked.
"Sir?"
"Come here. We're going."
"Yes, sir."
Dempsey released his breath when he saw Mike move away from Makepeace, back to his boss.
"I've got all the papers." Hardy told Whelan. "Let's go to the club. There are a few more things we need to discuss."
Dempsey saw the four men walk out the door. The room went dark. The men closed the door. Makepeace exhaled slowly, her head against the cabinet. She stayed where she was until she saw Dempsey's flashlight on her.
"That went well, huh?" Dempsey said, holding out his hand to help her up. Harry ignored the hand. She got to her feet, stretching her back. Switched on her flashlight and walked away from Dempsey. Without a word, she climbed on top of the desk.
"Yeah, better get outta here." He joined her on the desk, opened the skylight and helped Harry up on to the roof. She stared down at him, her anger was palpable. For a minute, he thought she was going to leave him there. Then she extended her hand. By the time they reached the car, she still hadn't uttered a word. He gave her a quick sideways glance, before starting the car. He decided to just leave her to brood. He knew he was in for a chastising over tonight's events. Dempsey suppressed a grin; he was already looking forward to it. Near Makepeace's house, Harry took a deep breath. Here we go. They exchanged a look. He couldn't hide his smile.
"Stop grinning. It's not funny, Dempsey. This could have been a disaster!" She started. With curt, impatient gestures, she rearranged her hair.
"Yeah, was close for a second there. That guy almost spotted you." Dempsey conceded.
"I wasn't worried about that. You would have stormed in and shot them all!" She scoffed. "How would we have explained that to Spikings, hmm? Four bodies. No warrant. The case blown! And even worse, the end of my career." She folded her arms in front of her. He gave her a mock-serious nod in return.
"Why do I always end up going along with your stupid, harebrained ideas?" She asked, throwing up her hands in exasperation.
"You know why, sweetheart." He said softly. "We get results."
Harry remained silent. He was right. Dempsey pulled into the driveway and killed the engine. "Probably best not to tell the boss it was such a close shave though." He grimaced. Harry hid her smile, but there was a sparkle in her eyes. Feeling her anger had dissipated somewhat, he wanted to delay saying goodbye.
"Hey, you wanna go and…" Dempsey began, but Harry interrupted him.
"I think I've had enough excitement for one night, thank you."
"There's no such thing as too much excitement, Makepeace." He leaned in. "I like it when you get excited." He leaned in a bit more. That intense look again; gauging her, enthralling her. She averted her eyes.
"You need to come down from your adrenaline rush. And I have to go inside." She stepped out of the car and with a "goodnight, Dempsey" she climbed the steps to her front door.
Harry walked into the living room and slumped into one of the armchairs. Damn. Why does this have to be so complicated? When she was first paired with Dempsey, he mostly repelled her. With his chauvinistic remarks, his disparaging attitude towards her ability to do her job. When did that change? When did he begin to appreciate what she brought to the partnership? Relying on her as an equal partner? At what point did repulsion turn into attraction? Harry couldn't remember. What do you want Harriet? She knew what she wanted. What she wanted was unacceptable to her. Dempsey was her colleague, her partner, her friend. She had everything to lose. Just say no Harriet! The truth was, she had no idea how long she'd be able to sustain her resolve.
Dempsey stared in front of him, his hand on the ignition key. When he came to England and Harry became his partner, he had to admit, he was just making do. Provoking her amused him. Flirting amused him. Getting a reaction out of her amused him. Job wise, he didn't think she was in his league. Women weren't cut out for this kind of work. He couldn't remember when his opinion changed. When did she become an asset? When did it stop to matter at all? He would never have imagined it, but they managed to forge a formidable partnership as well as a friendship. He counted on her skills. He still flirted, of course. At the start of their partnership, he knew there was no way she would even consider giving into his flirtations. She was considering it now though. He felt it in every fibre of his body. She cared, but she was conflicted.
What do you want James? He knew what he wanted. Smiling, he turned the ignition key. He had everything to gain. He'd tease her, but he was determined to be patient. How long he'd be able to sustain his resolve, Dempsey wasn't sure.
Monday morning, Dempsey and Makepeace added the findings from their Saturday evening break into the rest of the information. Spikings gave them a scolding for not following police procedure. But after the difficult previous week, Spikings had to admit. The information was very welcome. Even though the Superintendent wasn't sure his top duo had shared everything with him. Dempsey gave him his most innocent look. This confirmed it, of course, they hadn't told him everything. Spikings decided to let this one slide. The fact was, he needed all the info they could get their hands on. This case was too big and the stakes too high.
"The tap on Hardy's phone hasn't turned up anything. Most of the arrangements he makes face to face." Spikings pointed at Chas. "Keep monitoring his phone calls, you never know." Chas raised his thumb.
"Sure Guv, makes sense."
"So, sometime in March."Spikings mused. "We also need to think about this Jimenez fellow. I'll contact the Foreign Office. See if they can find out anything."
"They need to be very careful. There's a lotta corruption over there."Dempsey warned. "We don't wanna alarm the wrong people."
"I'll make that clear when I speak to them." Spikings rubbed his head. "I think we should ease up on this case for now. Ease up on surveillance. The arrival of the shipment is more than six weeks away, and we don't want to be discovered. I do want people at the docks every day, to keep an eye on things."
Spikings allocated tasks and cases to his team and ended the briefing. Chas and Dave were given the task of monitoring the docks that week. Spikings wanted Dempsey and Makepeace on stand-by, so he didn't assign them a new case. Instead, they would assist the rest of the team with their cases.
That week they only saw each other in the morning and in the hallway coming and going. Dempsey did some legwork for the murder case Watson and Fry were investigating. Makepeace spoke to a few informants to get leads on an extortion case. As well as clearing away administration that had piled up on her and Dempsey's desk. Makepeace declined Dempsey's invitation to go see a movie on Friday. She was going to the theatre with Angela. On Saturday, Dempsey was a part of Dave's stag night.
After the weekend Dempsey strolled into SI 10. After a late night on Saturday, he spent most of the Sunday vegetating in his bed, sleeping off his hangover. His first glance was at his partner's desk. Makepeace's chair was still empty. He poured himself a cup of coffee at the coffee counter.
"Hey, Dempsey. Recovered from Saturday?" A dishevelled looking Chas joined him at the coffee counter.
"I'm a lot better than yesterday." Dempsey smirked. "It was worth it though. Was a good night."
"Yeah." Chas took a sip from his coffee.
"You still look a bit rough."
"I had to go visit the in-laws, yesterday." Chas took another sip of coffee.
"I feel for ya, Chas." Dempsey patted him on the shoulder and sat down at his desk. Spikings walked in to brief the team. They all turned their attention to the Chief Superintendent.
"First of all, due to personal circumstances, Sergeant Makepeace is on leave. Indefinitely."
"Chief?" Spikings lifted his hand to silence Dempsey. "Later Dempsey. Briefing first." Spikings went over all the cases and gave directions where needed. He then motioned an impatient Dempsey into his office.
"What's going on?"
"Lord Winfield was in a car accident yesterday. Harry called me last night from the hospital." Spikings took out a cigarette. "It's not looking good."
Dempsey sat down in one of the chairs.
Harry...