Chapter Three
A Few Hours Later
Lewis parked the car on the side of the road and then turned his sergeant." Are you sure you want to do this?"
" Of course, I don't want to do it, but I have to."
" No, you don't, James. It has to be done, but it doesn't have to be you that does it. Why don't you just wait in the car, and I'll get everything settled? Your day's been hard enough already, and this will only make things worse."
Hathaway sighed." I know it'll just make me feel worse, but I have to do it anyway. I…I promised her. Besides, if Mr Innocent is anything like …like Jean was, he'll want a thorough, detailed account of the story from start to finish. And you just can't provide that."
Lewis accepted this logic, though he didn't particularly like it. " You don't mind if I stay with you, though—do you? For moral support."
" Mind? I was planning on asking you anyway. I know I can't do this alone. Good God, I'm…I'm not even sure that I can do it at all. But I've got to try anyway."
Robbie nodded, but didn't say anything. The two of them unfastened their seatbelts and exited the car. As they slowly approached the house, Lewis could heat his sergeant's breathing rate rapidly accelerating. Hathaway was also trembling so badly that he might have tripped over the doorstep, if Lewis hadn't grabbed him by the shoulders just in time.
" Thanks, sir."
" I've got your back, Jim. Always have and always will. You can count on it."
Hathaway gave a half-smile and then carefully walked up the step to the front door. After taking a deep breath, the sergeant knocked and waited.
"Perhaps no one's home?" James said when no one answered the door right away.
But Hathaway knew that this was just a vain hope. He could see a car in the driveway—a black Aston Martin in mint condition. It was truly a beautiful vehicle, and if circumstances were different, the sergeant would have envied its owner tremendously. But in the light of all that happened, Hathaway wouldn't have traded places with Mr Innocent for a hundred Aston Martins.
The door eventually opened, revealing a tall, silver-haired man who appeared to be in his early fifties. Hathaway withdrew his badge from his pocket and wordlessly showed it to the older man. It was clear that Mr Innocent had understood why the police were here the moment he'd opened the door. This was the only thing that would have explained his strange composure. Although Lewis could see the devastation written across the other man's face, Mr Innocent showed no signs of confusion or anxiety. If the inspector were to guess, he'd say that Jean's husband had always suspected that this day might come and had done his best to prepare for it in advance.
Robbie supposed this was probably true of all officers' spouses. He remembered coming home from his traffic duty shift one night, about a year-and-a-half into his marriage with Val, to find his wife in tears.
He walked over and enveloped her in his arms. " It's okay, Pet. I'm here."
This only made Val sob harder. Her apparent distress at his presence greatly disturbed Robbie. He'd always known that he didn't deserve her; she was far too beautiful and intelligent for the likes of him. He had wondered if Val was now regretting her decision to marry an ordinary policeman when she might have done so much better.
Nervously, Lewis finally built up enough courage to ask his wife what was wrong.
" Doctor's appointment" was her only reply.
" Was he able to prescribe something for your stomach flu, then?" he asked as he gently stroked her hair. " I was so worried about you this morning. You ran straight to the toilet first thing and spent the next twenty minutes vomiting."
" He wasn't able to prescribe anything."
" What rubbish! We'll find you a better doctor soon, Pet. I can promise you that!"
" He wasn't able to prescribe anything, because I don't have the stomach flu."
" Then, what…"
Val gently released herself from his embrace." Morning sickness, Robbie."
It took awhile for the information to sink in. " You mean you're…you're…"
She nodded. "Pregnant? Yeah, about a month along, according to the doctor."
Robbie wanted to shout for joy—to proclaim his good news to the world, but he stopped when he glanced over and saw the profusion of tears still leaking from his wife's lovely eyes." Val…this…this baby. It's not making you unhappy—is it?"
She shook her head and gave a sad little smile. " No, it's exactly what I wanted. I've been hoping and praying for this for ages," she said as she gently rubbed her still-flat abdomen.
" Then, why are you crying?"
" After my appointment, I went to the grocery store. I was waiting for the cash register, and I started talking to the woman behind me in the queue. She was very pregnant—at least six months from what I could tell. I naturally congratulated her and shared my own good news. And do you know what she told me, Robbie? Her husband was a fireman, and he was at that blaze in Jericho last week."
Robbie nodded. He'd heard a great deal about that particular fire at work. The police suspected that it had been the work of an arsonist, and it had resulted in several casualties—civilian and fire fighter alike.
" Well, he…he never came home, and the woman said that the saddest part for her was knowing that he'd never get to meet his son or daughter. I've been thinking about her all day, and I just realized that the woman could very easily be me. That one day you might not come back to me. That you might not get a chance to be a father to this baby or maybe to other babies as well. I've told myself I need to accept the possibility; I need to prepare myself in case it should happen. That's what I've been trying to do all day, and Robbie…I …don't think I can do it. I don't think I can carry on without you."
Lewis suspected that nothing he could have said would have helped, so he merely held his wife in his arms until her tears slowed.
Fortunately, Val's worst nightmare hadn't come true. Robbie had been there when this child, a daughter nearly as pretty as her mother, arrived and when their next child, a strong, handsome son, was born as well. He'd been there to watch the beautiful babies grow into beautiful men and women. But Val had never truly gotten over her fear of losing her husband. Several nights he'd come home late and find her already in bed, her cheeks stained with dry tear tracts and her pillow slightly damp. When Robbie would wake her to ask what was wrong, she'd explained that she'd been "practicing" living her life without him. It was extremely ironic; Val had spent so much time preparing for his death, but Robbie had never thought to prepare for hers.
He'd always been so sure that he'd go first, not only because of his dangerous occupation but also because his family had a history of premature heart disease. He'd never imagined that his and Val's positions would be reversed—that he was the one who should have " practiced" living his life without her.
A voice returned Lewis's attention back to the present. " Come inside," Jean's now-widowed husband said quietly, and the two detectives followed him into the house. Once they'd reached the sitting room, Mr Innocent invited Lewis and Hathaway to sit down on the sofa, while he briefly left the room. Mr Innocent returned a few moments later with a pitcher of iced water and four glasses, accompanied by a tall, slender man, who appeared to be in his early twenties.
" My son Chris," Mr Innocent said as he set down the pitcher and glasses on a coffee table. " He's visiting from Northamptonshire."
Lewis studied the young man carefully as he extended his hand. For the most part, Chris Innocent was a younger version of his father; they shared similar colouring and the same patrician features, but Chris had his mother's eyes.
" Hey, Chris. I'm Detective Inspector Lewis, and this is my partner Detective Sergeant Hathaway. We worked with your mum."
" What do you mean ' worked' with?" Chris asked somewhat frantically. " Don't you still?"
" I'm…I'm afraid not."
" So…so, she's…she's dead?" Chris asked as Lewis nodded soberly. The younger man sank into an emerald armchair and buried his head in his hands. Mr Innocent, meanwhile, started pouring water into each of the cups. He handed the first to his son, the second to Lewis, the third to Hathaway, and the fourth to himself. James drank as though he had not hydrated in days, draining his glass completely in a single gulp. Having worked with a seasoned alcoholic for over ten years, Robbie immediately recognized this particular mannerism. It was the hallmark of extreme pervasive stress and the actions that accompanied it could prove highly dangerous if they weren't carefully monitored. Lewis made a mental note to keep a close watch on his sergeant tonight in order to ensure that James didn't exhibit similar behaviour with stronger beverages.
After a long tense, silence, Hathaway spoke tentatively, pausing every so often to swallow the lump building up in his throat. " She was…she was making a speech when it happened. Only it wasn't supposed to be her originally…the chief constable was supposed to do it, but he…he got sick. She asked me to come with her."
" Where?" Mr Innocent asked as he carefully sat down in another armchair beside his son.
" The bank of the Cherwell. Not far from Magdalen Bridge. We...we could see the punters every so often. Anyway, after she'd made the speech, the press started…started asking some difficult questions, which she answered as best she could. Until… until…this one man spoke up and asked her how she planned to protect the people of Oxford when she couldn't even protect herself. Then, he…he took out a gun…and he…well…he shot her…right then and there in front of everyone before he fled the scene."
" Did you get him?" Innocent's son asked.
" Er…no, actually… I was the only other officer there at the time, and my main concern was Jean." Hathaway suddenly realized just how foolish this had been of him. He'd been absolutely no help to Innocent by staying with her, but he might have been able to catch her killer if he'd left her side for even a moment. " I called for an ambulance and wanted to wait with her until it arrived. Unfortunately, by the time it finally did… she…she was already gone."
" So...you just stood there and watched my mother die? What sort of pathetic excuse for a cop are you?" Hathaway found the disdain in Chris Innocent's eyes twice as painful as it would have been ordinarily, because the eyes in question were precisely the same shade that Jean's had been.
"Chris," Mr Innocent said gently. " I'm sure Sgt Hathaway did all that he could."
James nodded." I wanted to do more—believe me—but I have no medical training; I was scared I'd make everything worse…"
" How hard could it possibly be to take a bullet out? I've seen it done plenty of times," the younger man responded callously, and Hathaway suddenly remembered that Jean's son was also on the force. " Haven't you—or are you too weak-stomached to handle the sight of a little blood?"
" As I said, I was scared I'd mess everything up; I wanted to leave it to the experts."
" Still, there was plenty else you could've done—like going after the shooter maybe?"
" I didn't want to leave her alone. She needed someone there with her…to talk to…to keep her mind off the pain…to say 'goodbye' to in person."
" Well, maybe if you were better at your job, ' goodbyes' wouldn't have been necessary—did you ever consider that? Oh, wait, I'd forgotten! You're not clever enough to have thought of that: so stupid that you froze completely when you saw a gun, so cowardly that you refused to chase down the man who shot down someone you've worked with for years, so useless that you gave up trying to save my mother, because you wanted to 'leave it to the experts.'"
Lewis placed a firm hand on James's shoulder. " Sergeant Hathaway is the farthest thing from useless. He's one of the bravest, smartest, most capable men I've ever met."
As touched as Hathaway was by his inspector's devotion, the sergeant couldn't help but feel that Lewis's praise and loyalty were undeserved. Much as Hathaway hated to admit it, Chris was right; James was stupid, cowardly and useless, and perhaps if he hadn't been these things, Jean Innocent might still be alive.
Chris started to loose another scathing retort, but his father interrupted him. "You…you say that you were with her the whole time?" Mr Innocent said, peering at Hathaway through tear-stained eyes.
" To…to the very end."
" Did she…did she speak of me at all?" Hathaway could hear the desperation in the older man's voice.
" She asked me to tell you how it happened and to tell you also that she loved you. It…it was her last request."
Mr Innocent nodded, and Chris spoke up again. " What about me? I'm her son. Did she say anything about me?"
Hathaway hesitated. While Jean had mentioned Robbie, the chief constable, and her husband specifically, she hadn't said anything about her son. James was sure that this had been an oversight on her part, but convincing Chris of that assertion would be very difficult.
" She didn't…did she? That's why you haven't responded yet," the younger man added after a few moments of Hathaway's silence.
" I'm sorry, Chris," the sergeant said quietly. " I'm sure she would've if there'd been more time. It's…it's just…she…she went so fast." Hathaway had already cried so much today that he'd been sure that he was out of tears, but his body was now threatening to prove him wrong.
" Your mother loved you, Chris," Mr Innocent said from his armchair. " There's absolutely no denying that."
" I know she did. It's just…I wish I'd told her just how much she meant to me."
" Me too," said Mr Innocent.
" Me three," Lewis added, and the two Innocents looked at him curiously. " She could drive me bloody crazy sometimes, but I always considered her a powerful ally and a valuable friend. Wish I'd told her that in person."
Of the men in the room, James alone had been able to say goodbye to Jean, but his farewell had been little better than no farewell at all. He'd wasted much of her precious time by telling her that stupid story of his once thinking she'd be a man. He should've spent the whole time talking about how wonderful she was and how much he'd cared for her. Better still, he should have let her speak for herself; instead he'd talked off her ear, until that ear could hear no more.
A profound silence then overtook the group, and each man handled it in a different way. Chris got up from his chair and began pacing about the room. Mr Innocent fiddled absently with his wedding band. Robbie continued to sit beside Hathaway with a hand still placed encouragingly on the sergeant's shoulder. James, meanwhile, stared fixedly at the ornate Turkish rug on the floor, determined not to meet the others' eyes—sure that if he did he'd release the tears he was currently trying to suppress.
Eventually, Mr Innocent spoke. " Where is she now?"
Acutely aware that Hathaway no longer felt like speaking, Lewis responded. " At the station mortuary. Even though we know exactly when and how she died, it's still procedure to have a post-mortem completed. It should be finished soon, though, and in the meantime, you can come…come… and see her."
Innocent's husband nodded. " I…I don't think we can…not…not now at least. Perhaps in a few hours?"
" I'm sure that would be fine. Now, if you don't mind, I think Sgt Hathaway and I will leave you alone now."
" Thank you for informing us." Mr Innocent said as he showed the two detectives to the door.
Robbie and James soon reached the car, and Hathaway was about to open the passenger side door when Lewis grabbed his arm. " James, I need you to promise you'll remember something. Innocent's son was angry and bitter—and rightly so—but he was wrong. There was nothing else you could have done for her—do you understand me?"
Hathaway jerked his arm out of Lewis's grasp. " Nothing apart from taking the bullet for her, you mean?"
" But James, you can't have…I mean you wouldn't…" the inspector said this more to convince himself than because he truly believed it. Something about the haunted look in his sergeant's eyes greatly disturbed Lewis.
" Maybe her life was worth more than mine is," Hathaway said darkly before entering the vehicle and slamming the car door shut.
