hi guys thanks for all your lovely reviews :)
hope you enjoy this chapter!
I included an Agatha Christie reference by the way, just in case you find it confusing, "At betram's hotel" one of her many novels included a police officer nicknamed Father and I thought it explained Octavian perfectly XD
Chapter Three: The Plot Thickens
John finds himself at the yard in less then ten minutes, thoroughly out of breath with his clothes thrown about wildly.
To any of the officers he resembles a madman with no or rather, insane purpose. Of course John didn't know that since he couldn't see their faces.
"I'd like to report a crime!" He pants, leaning over the counter top with his arms swinging uselessly.
"Is this a self confession?" The officer asks in response, throwing himself as far away from John as he could manage in the spindly seat he occupied.
"What?! No of course not, I haven't done anything wrong. This isn't about me, this is about Harold Saxon" John quickly explains, that familiar rage creeping over him at the mention of Harry.
"Sorry, Harold Saxon? You don't mean that bloke from a couple of years ago? The Rose Tyler case yeah?" The officer asks and John feels a mixture of relief and pain all at once.
If it was something this officer had remembered all these years then chances were he'd be more willing to listen.
"The Rose Tyler case" John confirms, standing up and stuffing his fingers into his pockets, he couldn't believe his luck, he'd barely entered the station and he'd already got somewhere.
"But he's reformed ya see, it's been on the news and everything." The officer answers simply and John's heart fell.
Yeah because a man like that can really change, He thought sarcastically to himself. What was wrong with this man? He got his explanation in the next moment.
"He's funding a new station for us too"
"So it's ok if he's abusing his wife at home, as long as you all get a new station." John spat angrily, and for the first time in his life he felt like using his gift or curse or whatever it was as a weapon. To look up at that officer, to see the children he'll never have and the wife fate will deny him and the car he'll spend his life dreaming about, and tell him all of that.
John is immediately appalled at the thought, since when had he become that sort if person?
"Wife?" The officer was asking now and John could practically hear him scratching his head in wonder. "What wife? He aint married"
"Of course he's married" John cried back angrily, he'd just had coffee with the woman for gods sake.
"She told me to come here, look see, she just wrote me this" He went on, pulling the scrap bit of paper out of his pocket and tossing it onto the counter. Well that last bit wasn't strictly true, he had no idea why River had left him that message, he could only assume that she wanted his help.
He must have thrown the paper too far because in the next second he heard the scrape of chair legs and the sound of something heavy hitting the ground.
After a brief scramble the chair creaks under a sudden weight with the accompaniment of the crinkle of paper.
"Scotland yard... " the officer began, no doubt squinting at the scrawl.
"Oh." He heard the officer let out a soft noise that might have been somewhere between a sigh and a groan.
John frowned, in all honesty that note proved absolutely nothing as anyone could have wrote it and frankly, it showed no evidence of abuse. But if this man believed him then he might as well go along with it.
"I think ya'd better wait here," the officer told John in a slow voice before he bellowed, "someone get father!"
John's brow crinkled, "father? Are you all Agatha Christie fans or something?" He asked, referring to one of his favourite novels with a wide grin. "I'd love to meet Agatha Christie, bet she's brilliant!"
"Agatha Who?" The officer asked in a confused tone. John's mouth opened in horror.
He'd never heard of Agatha Christie? Honestly the woman was a national treasure.
Focus John, a voice in the back of his head commanded.
"Hey, what did ya say ya name was?" The officer asked.
It took a moment for John to realise that the man was speaking to him.
"Erh, John, John Smith" John replied, gesturing wildly.
"Eh, yeah, John Smith" the officer replied in a disbelieving tone, "well if ya take a seat Fath- I mean, someone will be along to see ya."
Curious John nodded and quickly turned around to look for a seat. He could hear a muffled conversation between the officer he'd spoken too and someone else but paid no heed, opting to take a seat near the window that was terribly uncomfortable and spend his time counting the bowties printed on his socks.
He had just reached 23 when he heard the sound of the door opening and jumped in surprise as a gruff male voice asked, "John Smith?"
John immediately straightened up and nodded, his eyes landing on the dark camouflage vest in front of him, accompanied by a black shirt, trousers, polished black boots and a silver dog chain that swung wildly though there was no breeze. Strange attire for a police officer John thought to himself, he resembled more of a military figure.
"I'm Chief Inspector Octavian. I think you'd better come with me" as quickly as the figure had arrived he was gone again.
John's jaw dropped, the Chief inspector himself had taken it upon himself to take on this case? John didn't know what to say.
Evidently Harold's bribery wasn't enough for the higher officers to turn a blind eye to the atrocities he had committed. Was still committing John reminded himself.
He quickly got to his feet and stumbled after the Chief Inspector, his bandy legs flailing all over the place. John had the knack for being inherently clumsy. Octavian only paused once to hold the door for him. He was a fast walker however and since the only thing John had to follow was the black boots against a linoleum floor, he quickly lost track of the other man upon reaching the corner.
John froze as he turned into the hallway, daring go look up. The path in front of him was empty, too empty, with multiple doors on either side leading off to god knows where.
John paused gesturing wildly to each door, "ahhhh this one" he settled on the door closest to him, a dark brown colour with a brass doorknob.
Opening the door however only served to prove him wrong. "Definitely not then, sorry!" He called out to the officer at the desk who's face was obscured by the rather lurid magazine he was holding. He carefully replaced the door and instead turned to the one directly beside it. He was about to open that door when he heard Octavian bark, "Mr Smith what in the lord's name do you think you're doing?"
"Sorry, Sorry," John muttered, spinning around to find the pair of black boots he'd been following.
Octavian responded with an aggravated sigh and the black boots turned away from him and marched on.
The boots halt at the 3rd doorway on the right, the door thrown open so that John catches a glimpse of what is inside. A small fibre glass desk takes up most of the room upon which a dark blue jacket trailed across, indicating that a man is seated there. Underneath the desk John spots a pair of black heels, tapping the ground impatiently. A woman.
"John, this is Detective Amelia Pond and..." Octavian begins to say before the man seated on the desk clears his throat and offers John his hand, "Captain Jack Harkness" the other man introduces himself in an American accent.
"Former Captain Jack Harkness" Octavian corrects, muttering under breath about New York Police.
John accepts the Captain's handshake. He risks a glance at the man and sees enough before the curse takes effect, dark hair and eyes that match, fathomless, those eyes have seen much he thinks before he has the chance to glimpse for himself the things they'll never see.
A quick flash of light and the Captain is standing on a pier, waves lapping against the wooden beams gently as the man looks out across the sapphire water.
There's a boat coming in, a small brightly painted ferry with a figure at the prow. It's a man dressed in black, waving to Jack.
John watches as Jack's face lights up, he leans off the wooden safety rail and waves back in earnest, a smile on his face.
The scene flashes back to the present day and John is left wondering. He remembers seeing that boat on the news a while ago. It had crashed against the rocks on that beach. No survivors. Who had that man been to Jack? John wonders. A friend perhaps, or possibly a lover?
"Woh," Jack says after a second, waving his free hand in front of John's face. "You alright there? "
John becomes aware that he's still holding the Captain's hand. "Don't worry" Jack chuckles after a second. "I have that effect on people"
John let's go of the other man's hand as Octavian groans and the woman at the desk snorts. "Mr Harkness is a private investigator these days, bit of a nuisance mostly but he sometimesproves useful." Octavian informs John.
John hears the sound of a chair being pushed back and flurried movement before a second person is standing in front of him.
John can see the same pair of black heels that had been under the desk before, now accompanied by black stockings and a black pencil skirt.
"Pond" the woman begins in a thick Scottish accent, holding a pale hand out to John. "Amelia Pond"
"That's a rubbish joke" John mutters back as he takes her hand enthusiastically "I might just arrest you for that John!" Amelia jokes as he looks up and meets her gaze.
Detective Amelia Pond is quite young. Too young in fact. Auburn tresses and a pale, almost round face. That's all John can see however, before another scene comes into play.
Amelia is seated at a cafe but her appearance is dramatically altered. Her auburn hair is scraped back into a sort of half ponytail, limp and slightly damp. Her eyes are red rimmed from crying and the dress she's wearing is creased. She slumps in her chair, a black mobile sits on the table next to her. The screen lights up and Amelia hurriedly picks it up, putting it to her ear. "Hello" she croaks.
John can hear a voice on the other end reply, "Amy, oh god. I'm so sorry for your loss..." The condolences from the other end of the phone are drowned out by Amelia's wail of anguish.
Another flash of light and john is back in the office, Amelia's black heels turning back to her desk.
At least she'll never have to deal with that. He thinks to himself. The pain of losing someone, whoever died in that other version of reality is still alive here.
"So what's going on Father?" Amelia inquires, all business like now.
"Why do you call him Father?" John can't help but ask
Jack and Amelia laugh. "His first case was a murder at a hotel called Bertram's"
"So it was an Agatha Christie thing" John exclaims in excitement.
Octavian coughs once more and John is sure that he's just rolled his eyes. "I think you two had better see this" he says as he takes a step towards the other two. In his hand John can see the piece of paper that River had given him not too long ago.
There's an intake of breathe from Amelia. "Is that?" She begins. "Yes" Octavian replies curtly.
"John" Octavian begins to say before John hears the sound of footsteps and a new voice announces, "sorry I'm late, bloody paper work" its a male voice, of that John is sure and the accent is local, unlike Amelia and Jack.
"Ah Williams" Octavian replies in a grave voice as the footsteps make a beeline for the desk.
"John, this is Detective Rory Williams." Octavian says and suddenly yet another hand is being offered. "Hi. Who's this then?" He asks speaking to the others as John takes his hand bewilderedly.
He's not quite sure what's happening any more and while he is certainly no expert they all seem rather concerned about a note that really doesn't prove anything.
"Father was just about to explain," Amelia replies.
Something isn't quite right John thinks to himself. Well actually a lot of things aren't right about this, for starters he was supposed to have been dead by this time. But there's one thing in particular that he just can't place. Never mind. He consoles himself. It will come to him.
"John, I think you'd better tell us everything that you know." Octavian was now saying. John nods and finds himself being ushered into a chair by Amelia who patted him on the shoulder kindly.
"Tell us everything John. Please" she whispers.
It finally clicked. What was wrong. "Amelia" he says out loud. "Amelia and Rory" it dawned on him. "She said her parents were called Amelia and Rory"
From somewhere behind him he heard Octavian curse loudly while Amelia lets out a small moan. John frowns,
"Can someone explain what's going on here?" He asks angrily. "I mean in all honesty that note isn't a great price of evidence and you're all fawning over it like it's the Magna Carta. And yeah, I'm grateful that you're taking me seriously but while we're all here explainingthings to each other Harold Saxon is getting away with abuse. AGAIN!" He didn't mean to yell, but once he began he couldn't help it. Nothing made sense. Nothing at all.
"John" Amelia said in a calm voice and he felt her hand gently on his shoulder once more. "I know this is confusing for you but I need you to tell me something, just this one thing and I promise, I'll tell you everything you need to know. Trust me John."
"We can't tell him anything Pond this is an official investigation as of now!" Octavian spluttered and John could see the black pair if boots begin to pace the floor.
"Wether we like it or not he's part of this now!" Jack shot back as he leaned off the desk.
"John" Amelia begins once more as Detective Williams leaned down next to John on the left side of the chair. "You said this was about Harold Saxon. Now you have to tell me, his wife. What does she look like?"
John gives a start of surprise. What an unusual question and more to the point, why does that even matter? River is in danger at this very moment.
But he can hear the tone of Detective Pond's voice and knows that somehow this is going to help. "She's got nice hair, blonde, curly. Blue-green eyes, said she was an Archaeologist"
There's an intake of breath from Amelia "her name is River Song, isn't it?"
"How did you know that?" John asks, eyes widening, remembering what the officer at the desk had said, he'd never heard of Harry's wife.
"Because John" Amelia starts to say as Octavian shouts over the top of her, "not another word Pond!"
"She's not an Archaeologist. She's a detective."
"Former Detective" Rory corrects.
"wha...?" John asks incredulously but even as he says that the pieces begin to fit together. River's insistence that everything was fine and that John didn't understand. She was right, he had no idea about what was really going on. And that lie about her father dying, it was a cover up, she must have handled a suicide case before and knew the signs. And she would have realised that John would have gone to the police so she wrote him the note to lead him straight here to the people that sent her out in the first place. She was undercover, and Harry was the target. John felt a wave of relief wash over him, she was fine, absolutely fine. He should have known better, she had the look of a woman who look after herself.
There was still one small detail however,
"She's out there" John said in a deliberately slow voice after a second. "She's living in the same house as a murderer because you people put her there? And you left her, alone. With no back up" His voice raised until he was practically shouting now.
"Aren't you listening?" Detective Williams shot back angrily as he stood up, pulling Amelia back with him.
"John we told you she's a former Detective." Amelia replied quietly, "someone" she went on and he could tell by the way she said it that she was referring to Octavian, "kicked her out 2 years ago. No one was undercover John, we couldn't send anyone, it would be too dangerous."
"But how..." John begins to say before Amelia goes on, "we were only supposed to keep an eye on Mr Saxon after he was released, all kinds of nasty things kept turning up, women being beat up but refusing to say anything. We were just to watch him. But River took things to heart, she always did"
"That's enough Pond!" Octavian cried harshly. "unless you want a suspension"
"If River trusted him then that's good enough for me!" Amelia shot back before she addressed John again, "she started talking to him, just decided one day and then suddenly she was in, he was buying her all these things and showing her off to all his friends, just like that. She wanted him to pay John, for everything he's done but some of us thought that she took it too far."
John didn't know wether to cry or laugh. He'd only known her for perhaps 5 hours but in that time River had saved his life and given him a reason to keep on living. And now to discover all of this, well, she was an amazing woman.
Amelia went on "John she must have wanted you to know all of this, that's why she wrote you that note. She knew we'd recognise the handwriting."
"but why?" Jack asks from behind her.
"Don't you see?" Amelia cries, "she's in trouble"
*dramatic music*
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