They all bought their drinks and sat together at the table. Lewis briefly wondered when they had all decided to sit together but it didn't really matter. He looked up as the smaller one spoke.
"S'pose we should introduce our selves properly eh? I'm Ray Doyle, this is Bodie." Doyle extended his hand and Lewis took it.
"Robert Lewis, Robbie."
"James Hathaway" Bodie looked up.
"You two should give up being coppers and write Oxford's tourist guide. This sausage and mash is beautiful!" James grinned. There was something about the older men that put him at ease. It was easy to get on with these two.
"How long are you staying then?" James asked, he directed the question at Doyle, the blissful look on Bodie's face told him he wouldn't get a answer.
"Well, Oxford was our last talk, so we were thinking of just staying around here for a bit. My missus isn't at home for the week, and no one'll have him" he jerked a finger at Bodie, "so no particular need to go back. Why?"
"Well, I'm not sure about you, but I reckon Bodie would be delighted to know that tomorrow is steak night here."
"The boy knows me so well." Lewis grinned, but James bristled at the term. He supposed it could have been worse. He still got annoyed when he thought of LePlassiter calling him 'The blond boy' Doyle gave him a knowing smile.
"Mate, your a good number of years younger than us. How old are you? Thirty? Thirty one?"
"Thirty three"
"Right so you're exactly thirty years younger than me, twenty eight younger than Bodie and..." He looked over at Lewis who sighed good naturedly.
"Twenty seven."
"Twenty seven years younger than Robbie. When you were three years old, I was halfway to where I am now...Bloody hell!" Bodie smirked.
"You're older than you thought, aren't you Ray old son?" He laughed. Doyle scowled
"You're as old as you feel Bodie."
"Yeah, keep believing that Ray." Lewis and James glanced at each other smiling. They were happy to keep quiet and watch the easy banter flow between the two men.
"Drink? What can I get you, old timers?" James smirked, two could play at Bodie's game. The men laughed and gave him their orders. He came back and plonked the beers down on the table. Lewis looked up at him and said;
"You call me that again sergeant and I'll get you demoted" The smile in his eyes belied the tone though and James just grinned at him.
The night wore on and the men relaxed into each others company. Bodie and Doyle told anecdotes of their time in CI5. Mostly locker room stuff about the antics of their colleagues and themselves. They asked Lewis whether he was a copper in '78. He smiled wryly.
"Oh Aye, pounding the streets of Newcastle and wet behind the ears with it." Doyle grinned at him.
"Did you hear anything of the goings on in London that summer?"
"I canny remember. Was a long while a go." Bodie chipped in.
"Asher Beiberman?" James looked on in ignorance as Lewis answered.
"Aye. Now I come to think of it, wasn't he snatched outside the festival hall? Madness that was."
"Yeah." Bodie grinned slightly. "We were on that one." Seeing James' blank look, Doyle filled him in on the case. Hathaway learned quickly that a group of people had kidnapped the Israeli minister and held him captive and they had used a battering ram-come-truck to break into the house, saving the day. This was only possibly from tracing the elements of the environment in the photo the kidnappers had sent.
"Must have been exciting." James ventured.
"Nah, to be honest, we spent most of the case on buses working out where the buggers were hiding." Bodie looked thoughtful for a second and nudged Doyle. "That was the time you lost your car wasn't it?" Doyle hastily made an answering comment.
"That was a different case Bodie. The one with the kid and the gun and your ex girlfriend if I remember rightly" Lewis' turn to ask questions.
"You totalled it?" Bodie looked at him, deadpan, in a way that was spookily similar to James' inscrutable deadpan expression.
"Nah. Stupid bastard forgot where he parked it." After the laughter had subsided he continued. "Still I guess you lads have been in some sticky situations yourselves." Lewis looked over at James question in his eyes. A barely perceptible shake of James' head (noticed by Doyle) and Lewis knew Hathaway wasn't ready to talk about the events surrounding Zoe Kenneth. Still too personal for small talk.
"Not really. Couple bashes about the head each. Nothing major like." He steered clear of the fact that James had been shot at Creavecour hall. He still didn't know how out of bounds that was either.
A little while later and Lewis and Doyle were engaged in deep discussion. It turned out that Doyle's secondment to Oxford had occurred exactly when Lewis had two weeks leave. Doyle had worked briefly with Morse and they talked of the old days. James got up for a cigarette.
"Mind if I join? I don't think I'm included in that conversation."came a voice behind him, ever so slightly tinged with a Liverpudlian twang .James smiled at Bodie.
"Sure. Memory lane's all well and good if you're well travelled enough to have been there."
"Very poetic that. You're a wasted copper." They grinned at each other as they left for the beer garden.
Once they were gone, Ray turned to Lewis.
"Good lad you've got there. Quiet though."
"Aye that he is. He's probably feeling his age a bit. In reverse." Doyle was quiet for a few seconds before asking.
"Is he ok though? I saw you checking with him about injury. Normally its the Inspector that has the say right?" Lewis's turn to be quiet as he worked out whether he should say anything.
"Yeah. S'personal though. He had to investigate his friends suicide. Heated words were exchanged between us regarding conflict of interest. One thing led to another and a serial killer drugged him, coaxed him to bed and tried to burn them both alive. Got him out but, you know how kids are. Fragile minds an all that." Lewis snorted. "Blimey, listen to me. He's not a kid is he?" Doyle nodded in a knowing way.
"He's younger. You feel protective of him. Bodie's younger than me even if its only two years. Difference is, he behaves like a child, where I don't think James does so much."
"Nah. He's just younger and bloody cheeky with it. And smart enough to be telling me what to do if truth be told. Just inexperienced. Don't let him know I said that though. He's smug enough as it is" The two men laughed. Both the oldest in their partnership, although it didn't make much difference to Bodie and Doyle. No rank in CI5.
James offered Bodie a cigarette.
"Nah. Don't touch 'em me." James nodded in understanding and smiled, lighting one up and taking a drag. "You like being a cop then?" Hathaway considered this.
"I suppose so. Its going to sound cliché but the whole stopping the bad guys thing is appealing. And my colleagues are mostly ok. One or two of them have a few hang ups on the fact that I'm grad entry but mostly its ok."
"Robbie is one of those ok ones eh?" There was a slightly embarrassed grin from Hathaway. He didn't talk to his best mates about work, now he's talking to a bloke he met less that 6 hours ago.
"Yeah. He's one of the 'ok ones'. Better governor than most. Doesn't expect me to do everything and he listens to my ideas, well mostly." He suddenly grew serious. "But don't lie to him. Ever. He doesn't take it well."
"Lemme guess, off the case?" James nodded.
"Off the case, out of his sight, the whole kit and caboodle. Thought I'd just waved goodbye to my career. Got a bit...hot after that." As they walked back to the table they saw Doyle and Lewis looking around for them and James smiled slightly. "He came back for me though." Bodie heard the veiled relief in those quietly spoken words and smiled. He puzzled over the phrasing. Not 'he had me back' or 'he forgave me' but "He came back for me." He wondered what exactly had happened to the young man for his inspector to look to him to see if discussion was ok. It wasn't only Doyle that had seen the look that passed between them.
Lewis reflected on the impromptu evening. He felt a little sorry for James in that he had spent the evening with three people older than him by a considerable amount. But he didn't seem to mind. The young man appeared to have struck up quite a friendship with Bodie, last time he looked, the two of them were talking about poetry of all things. He and Doyle were getting on well as well. The ex-copper made CI5 man was honest and frank, which were qualities that Lewis valued highly. Neither Bodie or Doyle had any air of superiority about them, they were just two other blokes having a drink. He turned to Doyle as the other two members of the group sat down.
"Where are you staying then? Local?"
"Yeah. A B&B around the corner" He looked at his watch. "Actually we should probably head off. We have got all our stuff in your conference room after all." They all got up in the hesitant way people do when they aren't really sure if they are indeed leaving or not and headed out into the night. The night that, by James reckoning, was probably more like morning now. Lewis put a hand on Doyle's shoulder when they got outside.
"You going to carry all that stuff back? Because...well you're definitely over the limit." He smirked. "I'd get James to do it but I think he's more over than you."
"You're right. Er. Can we come and get it all in the morning." James groaned, rubbing his head.
"It is morning."
"Well later then? Are you both on duty tomorrow.?" Lewis groaned this time. Louder and longer than James had.
"In about 6 hours time yes. James go and get some sleep. We're supposed to be in at nine." James needed no second bidding. After giving his goodbye to the two CI5 lads, he headed home, Longing to go to bed, to an slightly alcohol induced slumber for 5 hours. His hangover tomorrow was dependent on how much sleep he got. Lewis also bid good bye to Bodie and Doyle and all three of them headed off in their intended directions.
Bodie and Doyle walked back to the bed and breakfast they had booked, talking about the two coppers they had met. They both agreed that the policemen were decent men and easy to like.. Unbeknownst to them Lewis and Hathaway though the same thing of the two 'secret agents'. A quick talk with the landlord meant that they both headed to bed with an envelope. They reached their respected rooms and headed in, mumbling slightly drunken goodnights. Doyle sat on his bed and ripped open the letter that had been left with the old man that ran the premises.
Get out of Oxford Mr Doyle. Unless you want to drag the coppers down with you.
He stared at it dumbly for a small while and then got up immediately to knock on Bodie's door. The fact that Bodie met him out in the corridor waving a piece of paper, told him that Bodie had received a threat as well. They compared and saw that they both had exactly the same message, albiet with their own name on.
"So..." Bodie said as they digested this information. "Do we go and tell Robbie and James? I mean they are warning us off something and threatening them two."
"Who's they? What do we go and say?"
"Bugger me if I know mate."
"I think we can leave it till tomorrow. After all the poor buggers have to be at work at nine." He grinned. "I think James, for one, needs his sleep. Thirty years less experience at the old drinking game eh?" Bodie nodded and headed for the door. Turning at the threshold he smiled. A proper smile stretching across his face.
"Oh I've missed this." Doyle grinned after him He had as well.
Lewis fumbled with his lock and stepped through his front door. There was a note on his floor and he picked it up, holding it far from his face to try and focus on it. He'd drunk a little more than he thought. Squinting at the paper, he could make out the scrawled writing
Get rid of the CI5 agents Inspector, unless you want them to get hurt. And your sergeant as well.
He thought of calling James but reasoned that the younger man would be asleep and any way, he wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to work his phone at that particular moment. If he hadn't drunk as much as he had, he'd probably be worried. As it was, he put the note on the kitchen table and went to bed, making a mental note to say something to the two men he had left outside the pub.
James stumbled up his street, squinting against the street light. Had he been sober, he would have seen the punch coming. Staggering backwards, hand holding his face, he looked up to see a black-clad man run away from him down the road and disappear from sight. It was only when he went to open his door he found a piece of paper on the paving outside. Still rubbing the left side of his face he read the message.
Keep clear of the CI5 agents Sergeant, or the old'uns will get it.
Head reeling from too much alcohol and a blow to the head, the young man stumbled into his house, dropping the note on his sofa before staggering into bed.