In which we have an entire chapter of exposition.
Reasonable Cause to Suspect
By EllieV
Chapter Eight
Beckett sat in the mess hall and waited for his next customer. Weir had left, looking disturbed. He bet her next stop would be the DNA lab, no matter whether she wanted to bother them or not. A small glow from the balcony made for interesting analysis. Beckett considered this. Policework was stressful. He weighed up the pros and cons of the occasional cigarette against blowing the occasional gasket. He knew just the person at home to slip the idea for a study to as well; sometimes he regretted the lost opportunities of just doing a plain old research study that had had everything to do with people and nothing to do with genetics.
He thought of who might come in next. He didn't think it would be any of the lads beavering away in the lab. Too busy. He hadn't seen DI Chatham since the end of the autopsies and in some ways he was surprised that she wasn't sitting out with Stretton. Teyla and Ronon were possibles but the last time he had seen both of them they were with DS Tynan. Now, that really was interesting. Eager students both. Would Atlantis ever need a police force and would Teyla and Ronon apply for the jobs? He had asked what it was that Teyla had been marking. She had leaned in so Sheppard couldn't overhear her. I am sorry that we-indicating Ronon and herself-hadn't been able to search the ground ourselves, Dr Beckett. Ronon had also leaned in. Obvious that it wasn't the Wraith, he said. The Wraith don't leave-he turned to Tynan-what was that you said? Clues, lad, said the Sergeant. Yes, Ronon and Teyla said solemnly, the Wraith don't leave clues.
The mess hall door opened and in walked Sheppard. He looked drained. He stopped at Beckett's table.
"Where's …" he asked.
Beckett pointed at the balcony. Stretton was leaning on the rail looking downwards into the water. Sheppard walked over and stopped a few feet away.
"Hey," he said.
Stretton tossed his cigarette butt into the ocean.
"You just polluted our waterway," said Sheppard.
"There a fine for that?" Stretton looked amused.
"Nope," said Sheppard. He looked faintly embarrassed. "Uh, wanna beer?"
"It's not that American piss, is it?" said Stretton.
"Atlantis's finest Czech brew," said Sheppard handing over a bottle.
Stretton took a drink and coughed slightly. He looked at the bottle. "Good god," he said.
"Yup," said Sheppard. "I, uh, come offering bad Czech beer in exchange for information."
Stretton eyed the bottle and said wheezing slightly, "Really, that wasn't necessary." He took another drink. "Got anymore?"
Sheppard held up what looked like a sixpack. Dr Zelenka was indeed ingenious, thought Beckett.
"How did you know about the bodies?" asked Sheppard.
"I didn't," replied Stretton.
"You knew where to look, though," said Sheppard with certainty.
"All the photos bar the one of the clearing were of flat ground. The clearing was different. There was a mound and the ground looked disturbed. That's all."
"All?" Sheppard asked. "That's all you went on?"
"Not very scientific, is it, Colonel." Stretton took another drink and coughed again.
"So, it was just a hunch?" Sheppard looked disbelieving.
Stretton shook his head slightly. "Someone disappears in the Pegasus Galaxy and you automatically think Wraith, yes?" Sheppard nodded a little. "Life-sucking aliens are still a bit esoteric to me despite my wife making me sit through every episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Someone disappears and I automatically start looking for where the body is buried."
"You must lead a fun life," said Sheppard dryly.
Stretton shrugged. "I'd rather be doing paperwork."
"Paperwork?" asked Sheppard somewhat incredulously. "Isn't even this-as bad as this is-isn't it better than spending all your time at a desk?"
"Not when the alternative is telling some kid that mummy isn't coming home tonight because a crack addict emptied a blood-filled syringe in her jugular," said Stretton flatly.
As Sheppard flinched, Beckett wondered if Stretton had chosen that example deliberately; it seemed to be the end of Chatham's story of shooting someone who had pissed him off. The two of them finished their beers in silence. Stretton looked at the empty bottle, looked around, and placed it down on the table.
"You need some bins around here," he said. "I'm going to the lab."
Sheppard followed but stopped at Beckett's table.
"He's …" Sheppard waved his hand in the air vaguely in the direction of the door.
"Yes, he is, isn't he," agreed Beckett. "What are you going to do, Colonel?"
"What about?" said Sheppard.
"Elizabeth said to Mr Stretton that this wasn't part of his inquiry and it isn't, really," Beckett pointed out.
"Don't you want to know what happened to our people, Carson?" he snapped at Beckett.
"Yes, I do," said Beckett calmly. "What happened to 'Mr British Policeman and his girlfriend?'"
Sheppard flushed. "They have an expertise that we can use, Carson. Rodney is still missing and if it takes a little of 'We need to speak to him' then so be it."
"Rodney might be one of the bodies," said Beckett. "You saw how badly mutilated they were. A number of scientists were the same height and build as Rodney. He could be downstairs right now."
Sheppard shook his head no. "I think McKay's alive-and so do you." He put the rest of Zelenka's sixpack on the table and left the mess.
Yes, Beckett thought, I do think Rodney is still alive.
Barker shuffled into the conference room, followed by Breen. Beckett knew Barker's qualifications but until he'd seen Breen at work, he hadn't realized that the officer really was a crime scene investigator. In one of the few breaks they took uncovering the bodies, Barker had said offhandedly that Breen had taken Joint Honours in a combined forensic science and criminology degree. The lad had a brain, Barker said proudly, though please don't tell him I said, Dr Beckett. Both Barker and Breen looked as tired as Beckett felt. They'd been working non-stop, snatching an hour or two of sleep here and there, and they still hadn't finished.
Tynan came in with Ronon and Teyla close on his heels-like puppies, thought Beckett irreverently. Ronon was talking expansively to the small Scotsman. Beckett hadn't had a chance to talk much to Tynan but at one point in the lab, Tynan had caught Beckett's arm, fingered the St Andrew's patch, and strolled off whistling what sounded like a Runrig's "Pride of the Summer."
"Erm, so …" Beckett started to ask about progress but was cut off by Tynan.
"We'll wait until Mr Stretton, the DI, and your lot get here, Doc," said Tynan. "Save us repeating everything, eh?"
Beckett nodded. He flicked through his preliminary report-his vastly incomplete report. Barker and Breen were huddled over their computers, conferring quietly, fingers pointing at various things on the screen. Tynan was doing the same with Ronon and Teyla. After a few minutes, silence fell as they began twiddling their thumbs. Time for some social chitchat, decided Beckett.
"Atlantis must have come as something of a surprise to you," he said indicating Tynan and Breen.
"What, the whole artificial wormhole, aliens, other galaxies thing?" queried Breen. "No, not really. Why?"
Beckett chuckled at the sarcasm. "How did you find out?"
"Short version? Boss said we had a job, death abroad, and it was classified as top secret. We went through some rigmarole, arrived at Cheyenne Mountain, went out with the lads there a few times, got on board the spaceship, arrived here," said Tynan.
"What was the rigmarole?" asked Barker.
"Security clearances. Coz apparently we can't keep secrets being coppers 'n' all," said Breen dryly.
"You do not seem … bothered …" Teyla searched for the right word.
"We had some time to get used to the idea," said Tynan. "We're over the 'Yis fuckin' kiddin' me' stage."
"Did you go through that stage?" enquired Beckett.
"Didn't you?"
Beckett nodded. "It took a while. I threw up the first time I went through the stargate."
Tynan grinned and pointed at Breen, who put his hand up.
"Good safety tip for you, Doc," Breen said. "Eggs 'n' toast fingers-not a good idea before stargate travel."
"Ouch," said Barker. "Here's another one: baked beans on toast."
"You didn't?"
Barker nodded sheepishly.
"What about the Wraith? What were you told about them?" asked Beckett.
"We got told there were life-sucking aliens. I was a little freaked out about it because you don't get life-sucking aliens in Glasgow … hmmm, the Gorbals maybe …" said Tynan. Beckett grinned at him. "The boss seemed less surprised than us but then, he never seems surprised at anything. When it comes down to it, Doc, despite the aliens, the other galaxy, and the whole secret mess of it, it's still a death abroad. That's what the guvner said and that's how we approached it. Outside of Mr Stretton-and who the hell knows what he thinks-you could call it a coping mechanism if you wanted. Do the job, go home."
"What about your DI?" Beckett wanted to know. "She seems to be taking her lead from Mr Stretton. Two peas in a pod."
"They've worked together a long time," said Breen. "He was her puppywalker and she's followed him about ever since-so to speak. Graduate entry, but you've probably figured that. Criminology and psychology but you probably figured that, too. She's not his girlfriend."
He eyed Beckett appraisingly. Beckett turned to Barker who waved him off.
"Don't look at me, Dr Beckett," said Barker. "There were plenty of people about who heard that comment."
"Heard what?" said Sheppard coming in with Weir.
"Doesn't matter," said Beckett hastily.
"What doesn't matter?" asked Chatham as she came in with Stretton. She looked picture perfect, thought Beckett; Stretton looked tired and grumpy.
"Nothing," said Barker.
Chatham narrowed her eyes at him and around the table at Tynan, Beckett, Teyla and Ronan. It was the gaze of "Something's up and you're not saying" and all of them squirmed. She sat down next to Stretton. Sheppard said something quietly to Weir and she nodded. She leaned forward and clasped her hands.
"Mr Stretton, I said to you earlier that all this wasn't really part of your inquiry despite you saying that you needed to speak to Rodney. You agreed with that."
"Yes," he said.
"Boss!" Breen protested. Tynan shifted in his chair. Chatham held up a finger in quiet to both of them.
"What happens if Rodney is amongst the bodies downstairs?" she asked.
"Then we pack up and go home," he said. "What do you want, Dr Weir?"
"I want you to keep investigating even if Rodney is dead. Your team has expertise that we can use to find out what happened. I know that you can justify it if Rodney is not amongst those bodies-you don't think he is anyway. Make an excuse, justify it somehow, but we could use your help."
"Cameron …" said Chatham softly. "I think we should."
He turned his head to her as she spoke. She hesitated, as though considering whether she should go on. She whispered something in his ear. He slid a sideways glance at her and sat back, his face expressionless.
"Out," Stretton said, indicating his team. At their will-we-won't-we wavering he snapped, "Now."
Barker, Breen and Tynan left; Sheppard looked at Stretton's face, made eye contact with Teyla and Ronon and indicated "out," too. They quietly made a beeline for the door. Chatham made to stand but Stretton shook his head at her. Beckett wriggled a little but stayed put.
Stretton took a breath. "Dr Weir, my hesitation is not because of the investigation."
"Is it the lack of oxygen people?" queried Weir.
"The what?" said Sheppard bewildered.
Neither Stretton nor Weir answered him.
"In this matter I answer to my senior officers, the Greater Manchester North Coroner, and the Home Office," said Stretton. "I can justify it if I need to."
"That may not matter," she said. "Who you answer to in the end might not be any of the people you think."
He nodded in agreement but said, "I can only go on what I know, Dr Weir. I'm not reluctant because of people whom I haven't met and whose reaction I can't predict."
"Then what's the problem," said Sheppard.
"You are, Colonel," said Stretton frankly.
Sheppard looked surprised and annoyed all at once. "Meaning?" he said offended.
"I have no intention of taking part in an investigation that has too many chiefs. If my team is going to investigate these deaths then I am in charge-not you. This is not about playing power games; there simply cannot be any confusion as to who is running this investigation. If I tread on toes, and I will, then so be it," Stretton said firmly. "Am I clear?"
Sheppard looked frustrated but nodded unenthusiastically. Stretton turned to Weir.
"Same thing goes for you, Dr Weir," he said. "I don't want your staff whining to you because we're not acting all pretty-like."
"I'm in charge of this expedition, Mr Stretton," she said. "There are some things that I cannot allow."
"I'm sure you'll let me know what they are," he said.
"Look, I know what you're saying," said Sheppard. "You know more about investigating crimes than we do but we know more about Pegasus than you do. For example," he stressed, "it's not such a good idea to go investigate something on a strange planet without an escort-crime scene or no crime scene."
"Are there planets here that aren't strange, Colonel? We did have extensive training at the SGC before we came," said Stretton patiently. "What training did you have in dealing with aliens before you left Earth?"
It was a fair point, thought Beckett, and from the look on Sheppard's face, he thought so, too.
"Not much," Sheppard admitted. "I learn quickly."
"So do we, Colonel," said Stretton. "Am I clear?"
Weir nodded. So did Sheppard-reluctantly, but he nodded. "Fine," he said.
"I doubt that, Colonel, but let's see how we get on," Stretton replied. "We'll get started shall we?" To Chatham he said, "Get the others back in here, please."
Chatham stood, as did Beckett. Stretton leaned in close to her and said quietly and to Beckett's mind, startlingly viciously, "Don't ever try to play that card with me again. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," she said subdued. "I'll, um, get the others."
Beckett followed her as she went out. He looked behind him to make sure no one was watching. He caught her arm.
"You all right, luv?" he asked. "What was all that about then?"
"It's nothing," she said. "It's fine."
"Didn't sound like fine back in there," said Beckett sternly.
She sighed, glanced back, and said, "I asked him what his wife would think."
"His wife? The Buffy fan," said Beckett, a little nonplussed. "What would she think?"
"She's a human rights lawyer," said Chatham. "Spends a lot of her time complaining about police brutality and how the police should investigate this, that and the other."
"Oh, erm, sounds like an interesting relationship," said Beckett.
"Every now and again, I'm just sorry I introduced them," she said. At his look, she went on, "We went to school together."
"Oh. Right then," said Beckett. "Erm, why did you become a police officer?"
"Didn't want to be a handbag, which is the general lot in life for someone of my background. I told my parents I was studying Art History," she reflected. "Best get on, eh?"
She waved down at Tynan and the others hovering at the bottom of the stairs. As they came up, Tynan said, "Everything all right, guv?"
"Dandy," she said. "We have a go."
They moved back into the conference room and sat down. Beckett noticed that Sheppard was still frowning-not a happy lad.
"Right then," Stretton said. "Dr Beckett? Tell us what you know …"
As Beckett started his report, there was a shout from downstairs. Everyone turned to the door and Dr Biro burst in, waving a notepad, completely breathless.
"Dr Biro?" Beckett asked. "Do you have something?"
"You were right, sir!" she said to Stretton. "How did you know?"
"Know what?" Beckett, Weir and Sheppard chorused.
"Oh, there's evidence on several bodies that suggest Dr McKay is dead!" she said excitedly.
"What?" Sheppard said.
"No, no, no! He's not there! Dr McKay is not one of the bodies!" she announced with a flair towards the dramatic.
Everyone turned to Stretton.
"Surprise …" he said softly.
TBC …
Note: People sit around and chat. We just never see it on television.
Next: The police have second thoughts.
