Chapter Two
Gene turned an extremely pale shade and swallowed very hard indeed. Of all the people he had never expected Evan White to represent Keats. He threw Keats a glare and found the evil one looking like he'd just eaten a large slice of exquisite chocolate cake.
"DCI Hunt," Evan began, his beard on display for all to see, "let's begin with the charge that you are actually called as a witness for. The alleged assault on DI Victoria Stone. Your statement says that you found the defendant sitting on top of the alleged victim, threatening her."
"That's correct," Gene said stiffly.
"A Detective Chief Inspector sitting on a Detective Inspector in the middle of the day, in one of the busiest police stations in London," Evan continued, "and you were the only witness?"
Gene felt his anger starting to bubble.
"Not up to me how busy or quiet a stairwell is," he mumbled.
"But to be the only witness," Evan continued, "especially considering that you claim you heard screams from down a staircase and along corridor?" he raised an eyebrow. "And yet none of the other hundreds of detectives and officers who were in the building at the time claim to have seen or heard anything."
"Perhaps the station needs to issue compulsory hearing tests," Gene growled
angrily.
"DCI Hunt, what were you doing at Fenchurch West?"
Gene felt a little sick as he thought about the real purpose behind his visit, to fetch a tape from the basement.
"I don't recall exactly," he said, "crossover of cases I expect."
"There's no record of your arrival in the visitor's log."
"I'm a DCI in the nearest station. I do not need to sign in."
"Everyone needs to sign in. In fact, the defendant has explained that measures have been put into place to keep you out of the station," Evan continued, "that you were actually trespassing."
"I saved a woman from taking an assault!" Gene growled, "I think a little sneaking can be excused!"
"So you admit that you gained access to the station illegally?"
"I'm a DCI –"
"- Who did not have permission to enter the station," Evan raised an eyebrow, "am I correct?"
Gene breathed in and out very slowly. He flared his nostrils in anger as he finally conceded.
"Yes, Sir. I may have entered without permission. So sue me."
Evan gave a small smile.
"The defendant and I will discuss that possibility later," he said causing a thunderous glare from Gene. "My client has expressed the worry that you are personally victimising him and have been over a number of years."
A slight explosive laugh came from Gene, even though it wasn't really funny.
"I bloody hope you're joking."
"Is it true that you developed an instant dislike for him when you saw an immediate bond developing between himself and your partner, Alex Drake?"
"No," Gene began. "I developed an instant dislike for him when I saw immediate evidence he was a twat."
"DCI Hunt, if you continue to use obscene language then I will have no option but to hold you in contempt of court," the judge warned and Gene saw a little smirk light up Keats's face out of the corner of his eye.
"No, your greatness," Gene gave a mock curtsey to Evan which the judge mysteriously allowed through without comment, "there is no vendetta against Jimbo. The opposite is true."
"So it isn't true that your previously solid working relationship with DI Drake began to crumble when my client started to work closely with her?"
Gene swallowed.
"DCI," he corrected, avoiding the question, "she's a DCI now."
Evan gave a smarmy smile.
"Of course she is," he said, "but regarding your relationship…"
"DCI Drake and I are solid," Gene said gruffly, "always had been."
"And what about your son?"
Gene's brow furrowed as he tried to work out what to say.
"I… eh?"
"DCI Hunt, what are your feelings on homosexuality?"
Gene could feel his face starting to redden as he gripped the stand a little harder.
"Funny time for you to decide to come out, Mister White," he said crossly.
"Is it true that your vendetta against my client worsened when you discovered that he was having a sexual relationship with your son?" Evan said plainly.
Gene's stare switched to Keats who was smiling away as though he didn't have a care in the world. Gene could not believe what was happening for a moment. What the hell was Keats playing at? Why would he want anyone to know about that? But as he looked upon that smug face he realised that Keats simply had no sexuality of his own beyond being using-sex-to-get-what-he-wants-from-other-people-sexual. In this case, turning Simon's drunken mistake against him in the worst possible way. His mouth felt very dry suddenly as he tried to work out what to say.
"Simon Shoebury," he began stiffly, "is a grown man who makes his own mistakes. Didn't even know he had any part of me DNA until long after Jimbo got any part of his anatomy near him."
"But it's true that you have a history of homophobic behaviour?"
"Objection," the lawyer for the prosecution stood up, "this has no bearing on the case whatsoever."
"DCI Hunt's statement has enough inconsistencies to suggest that it's a fabrication," Evan addressed the judge, "I'm attempting to establish the reasons behind the long running animosity between these two gentlemen and the reasons he has for disliking my client."
The judge considered.
"DCI Hunt, you may answer the question," he said, leaving Gene to flinch.
"Goody," he mumbled. Silence fell for several moments until Gene volunteered, "I would if I could remember what his flaming question even was."
"Are you homophobic, DCI Hunt?" Evan asked severely.
"Very phobic, I jump up screaming onto me chair every time Shoebury comes into the office."
"DCI Hunt you are very close to being held in contempt of court," The judge warned, "you are well aware of the etiquette in court."
Gene set his expression hard and angry. He was losing his cool and that was the last thing he needed to do but he couldn't help it. He hated Evan with a passion and the combination of Evan trying to keep Keats out of prison was getting him riled up like nothing on earth.
"I," he began, but his throat felt clogged. He had to clear it quite severely before he could carry on, "I'm of a different Generation, Mister White. Some of me values don't quite meet with the politically correct world that Ben Elton and the BBC want to show off."
"So that's a yes?" Evan asked but Gene wasn't finished.
"But that's the good thing about having a mind of me own," he continued, "not only do I get to form opinions, I get to change them too. That's one of me benefits of being a human being." He looked Evan in the eye. "I'm not going to go painting rainbows on the back of me car. But I couldn't care less where Jimbo sticks his minibeast. The only thing that makes me see red," he turned his glare to Keats, "is that he usually does it without getting bloody permission first."
Keats squirmed momentarily under Gene's stare but luckily for him Evan moved on and Gene turned away.
"Alright," Evan began, "let's go back to your first meeting with my client. Could you tell the jury what brought DCI Keats to your station in nineteen eighty three?"
"He was from D and C," Gene began stiffly, "discipline and complaints."
"DCI Keats was there to investigate the matter of you shooting your DI at the time," Evan reminded him, "DI Drake. Is that right?"
Gene swallowed, the memory hurting as much as it always had. She no longer bore the scar; instead her younger, tattooed body served as less of a reminder than the wound itself but he had never forgiven himself for the stray shot.
"Your client found me clear of any wrongdoing in that incident," he said.
"So can you explain to me why DCI Keats felt the need to stay on for several weeks to investigate working practices within your department?"
Gene closed his eyes for a second.
"No idea," he said, "maybe he liked the smell of me aftershave."
"DCI Hunt…"
Gene let out his breath slowly.
"It was a very long time ago," he said through gritted teeth, "I don't recall."
"According to my client he found a number of… inconsistencies in the paperwork and practices within CID going back to the date of your arrival."
Gene sucked on the inside of his cheek.
"Well then," he began, "if that's what Jimbo says it must be true."
"A number of your team left CID as DCI Keats concluded his investigation, is that right?"
Gene hung his head slightly as his chest began to feel very heavy. Memories of Ray, Chris and Shaz walking towards the Railway Arms filled his head and he couldn't fight the pangs of sadness that got to him. He knew that it was part of his job. That didn't mean that he didn't hate it sometimes though. He missed them all.
"DI Ray Carling, DC Chris Skelton and WPC Sharon Granger –"
"DC," Gene interrupted, "DC Sharon Granger."
"Really?" Evan frowned, "there was no record of her transfer according to the paperwork I acquired from your station." He watched Gene who stood there struggling for a logical explanation. The horrible fact began to dawn upon Gene that in just a few days' time an alternative Shaz would be standing right where he was, on the stand, giving evidence. What if Evan pulled this out of the bag? Shaz's situation was unique; a saved alternative version of someone who had spent time in his world? That was a one off. He remembered the fiasco with the pub when Alex saved Shaz's life the last time. He didn't want to let Nelson loose in London all over again.
"Perhaps the papers did not go through before she decided to leave," Gene said through gritted teeth.
Evan continued.
"Let's move on to some of your other claims about the behaviour of my client. You described his relationship with a member of your team in nineteen ninety five, a DC Kimberley Stringer."
Gene grunted.
"Kim," he said, "hated anyone using that name." he glared at Keats. "Hated him using that name."
"According to you, DCI Keats used medication and nitrous oxide to persuade Miss Stringer into having sexual intercourse with him on a number of occasions."
"He's got his own line in bloody pharmaceuticals."
"There is no record of any charges being brought against my client for such terrible crimes."
Gene closed his eyes.
"The poor girl just wanted to forget everything. Can't say as I blame her."
"And according to you there's no chance that the relationship and my clients' feelings for DC Stringer could have been reciprocated as DC Stringer is gay. Is that right?"
"Yes."
"And yet," Evan continued, his confidence spilling over, "a number of people have indicated that they are aware of a long term relationship recently breaking down between Kimberley Stringer and Police Chief Inspector Robin Thomas," he gave a twitch of smile, "My client's half-brother." The smugness of the beard went up several notches.
"I tell my officers what to do in the office, not in their bedroom," Gene said, terrified to admit that he felt out of his depth, "you'll have to ask her about that."
"Oh, I would. If she was here," Evan continued. "Tell me, DCI Hunt, where is Kimberley Stringer working now?"
Gene swallowed and felt like he could throw up at any moment. He hated to admit it with every bone in his body but Evan was good.
"I wouldn't know," he hissed through gritted teeth.
"She's working at Fenchurch West CID," Evan reminded him, "under my client. Isn't she?"
Gene's anger rose.
"Apparently so."
"It seems strange that someone who, according to your statement, had been drugged, raped and manipulated by my client over a number of months should be working for him two years on." He stared Gene in the eye, "don't you agree?"
Gene shook. He could feel his watertight case beginning to spring a leak.
"Very strange," he said tightly "perhaps you need to check her water supply for unpleasant substances."
Evan turned to the judge looking as pleased as Keats finding a whole new canister of Nitrous Oxide.
"No further questions, your honour."
As Gene was dismissed from the stand and led from the courtroom a darkness fell over his senses. He knew the court case wasn't going to be a walk in the park but the complication of Evan acting on Keats's behalf had upped the stakes.
"Why do I suddenly feel like me whole world's on trial too?" he mumbled.
