Chapter 3: Lead all Souls

Summary:

Robbie may be losing his mind just a little bit. Everyone tries to help.

Justice is a certain rectitude of mind whereby a man does what he ought to do in the circumstances confronting him.

~Thomas Aquinas

They had been standing on the bridge for four hours. It was as if daylight had never quite stuck. The death of James Hathaway had sucked all the light from the world. Robbie stood stoic and immune to the weather for once. He felt like there was a volcano burning him and the drizzling sleet and the driving wind and even the lightening felt like they were feeding him strength to see this through.

James Hathaway's burned, police issue car had been covered in muck and unrecognizable as it had been towed up to surface the first time. It was mangled but the charred and muddied blob shape of a human being had been glimpsed, still wedged in place, lump of a head thrown back in silent agony. Lewis turned away just before the cable had snapped.

Back into the Thames the water laden car rushed, rumbling the whole structure as the swift water plowed it into an even more inaccessible position, as if James were saying for them all to leave him alone.

Robbie could hear his former Sergeant's voice niggling at the back of his mind. "This is private, Sir. It's between me and God. He won't let you retrieve me. I can't be buried properly, you know. I did not die in Grace, Sir."

Three more hours and the car was still giving no quarter. The light was going fast and the weather conditions continuing to deteriorate as Sergeant Maddox finally approached him, handing him yet another hot cuppa, to explain that they were shutting down the recovery for the night.

They needed a crane and it could not be operated in these weather conditions even if they had been able to get it there before dark. It made Robbie sick to think of James being left in the icy dark murk all alone.

Robbie argued that they could not leave him down there all night. It took Jean Innocent and Laura Hobson both to convince him that they couldn't endanger lives to recover the dead. Robbie finally acquiesced and though he could barely move, he was so cold, wet and disheartened, they bundled him onto the car and insisted on taking him home.

Jean and Laura were talking about him as if he were not even sitting in the car. Liz was picked up by Tony, looking almost as miserable as Robbie. They discussed the logistics of him as if he were a case to be solved. Robbie interrupted them, "What the bloody hell was he even doing out here?"

Both women stopped talking at his suddenly blurted question. He looked at them and shook his head before continuing, "Wrong way. He was going the wrong way. Don't you see? He was in a rush to work. He wouldn't have decided to faff off and take a lookie-loo. There is no reason for him to be here. Why is he here?"

"I'm sorry, Robbie. We don't have any answers yet. You were the last one to speak to him. Did he mention an errand? Or was he staying…with a friend? He's young and very single," Innocent responded carefully.

"No. He was home last night. Had a pint over at the Trout and dropped him round home meself. Going to fiddle with some old files and knock off, he was. Had no idea it was the last time I'd ever…Jesus, James. Dammit, lad. This was out of his way between his flat and work," Robbie insisted.

"I don't know, Robbie, but we will find out." Jean Innocent assured him "Anyway, I will let you two get home. I won't let you on scene tomorrow, Robbie. You are on leave. I'm sorry, but this is not good for you."

Robbie snorted and gave a grimace of a smile that obviously said wild horses would not stop him.

Laura put on her cool professional face and determinedly stated,"Right now, we just want to get you home. That's what he'd want, you know. He'd be chomping at the bit for you to get warm and dry. Standing out there like Greyfriar's Bobby all day, soaked to the skin. He'd be pulling one of those horrid guilt-ridden faces and grousing about you catching pneumonia," Laura added with a fond twinkle in her eye.

Jean nodded, "He'd have some obscure quote to throw at us and Ma'am me to distraction until I ordered you home. The only reason I haven't so far was because I knew it wouldn't do any good."

Robbie's face twisted and he nodded, unable to respond.

Laura had left him in the car when she ran in to get take-away. He'd thumbed his phone absently and dialed the boy's number, just to hear his voice on the answer service. He'd shoved it into his pocket before Laura returned to the car.

"Ok, won't be long now. Just around the corner, we will be home, love." She'd said kindly.

"No. Take me to his. I won't fight you, but please. I need to be at his…with him. Just for tonight. I was happy there and he wouldn't mind. I just need to…" Robbie drifted off with a shivery sigh.

After a moment of huddled conversation in which Laura mostly got mumbles to her questions, she gave in and drove him to Hathaway's flat. Laura was determined to go in with him. "I don't want you to be alone."

"But that's just exactly what I need. I need to talk to him. Laura. Can you understand that? I need to … See, I have been standing out there all day. I lost my God-bothering rights after Val, you know. But in the station, before they knew I was in the gents with them, one of 'em said he must of deserved to die like that…and…

"Oh, Robbie. You know that's—"

"Bollocks. Yeah I do. But Me heart's breaking, see. Cause he would have thought it too. I can hear him now, talking about dying without receiving his Viaticum. On that bridge, I swear he explained it to me. The darkness won't let us have him because he didn't die in grace. I know what it sounds like and maybe I am a bit of an old bampot, but I just know that he doesn't feel gone."

Laura Hobson took a deep breath and leaned her head back thinking. "I don't think this is a good idea. It's a bit morbid, staying here, isn't it? Talking to his ghost?"

"Aye, but he's not my only one, if you remember. Talk to them all. Always have. It's how I cope. Something is calling me here. Can't explain it. I need to be here. So I am going to have me a hot shower and then God and me are having a little talk. Been praying all day, and my James is not getting locked out of eternity if there is one. Going to call that Father Andrew friend of his and get him to find us a loophole. You can fuss over me tomorrow, but I have things to do tonight. Please?" Robbie said as if this was just any day and he was on a case.

Laura looked sick to her stomach. "When this is over, I think there may be cause for us to have an extensive conversation about James. Not now, of course, but Robbie…"

Robbie kept talking, "Tomorrow, I will mourn good and proper. I will even let you fuss if you want. Right now, he's just this concept of death, wedged out there under a bridge on the A423. I can't save him for me, you see. But I need the chance, to save him, for him."

She sighed and shook her head. "It's a bad idea. Don't make me regret it." Laura handed him the take-away she'd planned to share with him and insisted that he call her if he needed anything else.

Robbie kissed her cheek and maneuvered his creaking bones out of her car. "Hey. How will you know? If it works, I mean?"

Robbie turned and thought about it. "I won't. Guess that's what the boy was always going on about. Faith. 'We are saved by faith alone, but the faith that saves is never alone.' ― Martin Luther. I have to make sure he's not alone. That's all," Robbie said with a soft smile.

"But you are leaving me alone, to do that," Laura said softly.

Robbie didn't say anything; he just stood in the cold looking miserable.

"Go on, then," Laura finally said with a heavy sigh and a nod.