A Town Like Alex
Disclaimer: I'm only using characters from the BBC's Ashes to Ashes for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.
Author's note: Huge thanks to Lucida Bright for going above and beyond the call of duty on this one. It needed a hacking and it got one. Many thanks to all of you who have reviewed so far. I'm really glad you're enjoying this.
Fenchurch East
Gene detested waiting; it made him twitch. But he could do nothing else. Wait for Jackie Queen to stop sulking and reveal whatever information she was clutching to her chest. Wait for the Sweeney to stop faffing around. Wait for the Yard to let Alex go. Wait for somebody to get off their arse and do something. It was nearly the end of August, for Christ's sake.
He picked up the phone, and twenty minutes later two faces appeared at his door. Mick McGary and Tony Leddin, the two Flying Squad DCIs didn't look happy, but they'd obeyed his summons.
"Sit," said Gene, pointing at the chairs in front of his desk. He glared at them, saying nothing.
"We have no news," said Leddin, looking resentful.
"There's a surprise. I want to know two things. First, why you needed to move DI Drake from Fenchurch to a forgotten office at the Yard to review files till Doomsday? Second, what do you expect us to do about these blags if you give us no information whatsoever?"
McGary cleared his throat. "We didn't ask for Alex to move to the Yard. That was Detective Chief Superintendent Robertson."
"Don't mess me around, McGary. It was you that asked for a criminal psychologist." Gene paused. "I'm asking you again; why does she have to be at the Yard to review files?"
"Alex is looking for links between –" chimed in Leddin.
Gene snarled at him. "I swear if either of you tell me one more thing that I already know you'll be directing traffic tomorrow."
The two men glanced at each other but said nothing.
Gene got to his feet and walked round his desk, closing the door and leaning against it, making the two men twist in their seats. "There are very few places people can talk freely,' he continued, "but this office is one of them. Now before I fit you up for masterminding every corrupt scam in the Met, tell me what the hell's going on."
Glancing at McGary for back-up, Leddin started to talk. "Nobody's got the first clue what's going on. We're running around in circles, we get tip-offs that lead us to dead ends, we can't hold on to a core team but we can't drop this fucking investigation. Every time we even hint that we're wasting our time, some other piss fart of a shop gets done over and we look like idiots."
Sauntering back to his chair, Gene said, "Drake tells me that the only link is that there isn't a link at all."
"Exactly," said McGary. 'Alex has chased up every possible lead but it all comes to nothing. She has spent days pouring over white boards, maps, phone records, banks statements, insurance details. Every crime scene in minute detail. There is no link but the brass won't take no for an answer."
Gene looked at him sharply. "So… what, then?"
McGary met Gene's eyes. "This can't go further."
"It won't."
"Alex is right. One thing is crystal clear. It's completely random."
"Too completely random," said Leddin.
"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" asked Gene.
McGary nodded. "The fact that we can find nothing just stinks of someone being far too clever by half. Someone is carrying out armed blags to keep us chasing our tails. And we think someone on the inside is orchestrating the whole thing. Nothing else makes sense."
Gene nodded slowly. "Who else knows about this?"
"Nobody. Alex hasn't said anything and we don't want to drag her into this any deeper than she already is."
Gene drummed his fingers on his desk. "Right. Time for a few answers."
"Be careful," said Leddin. "Mick and I watch each other's backs. We can't watch yours."
Gene nodded thoughtfully, his eyes glittering. "Okay - then this is how we're going to play it. Alex comes back here next week to follow up on a snout and information we received some time ago. Agreed?"
The two men nodded. "Agreed. Anyway, the initial deal was that she'd still report to the DCI in Fenchurch," said McGary.
"Now I'm going to bollock you both for breaking up my team and you're going to walk out of here with a face like a bulldog licking piss off a nettle. That bit of news will be well received by whatever rat is acting as carrier pigeon. Carry on chasing your tails and when I have something solid, I'll be in touch." He slammed both hands on the desk in apparent fury. "And don't come back here again with that attitude," he shouted and marched across the room.
McGary rose to the challenge and began to shout a reply. "We were never going to work –"
"Don't you even THINK about answering me back," Gene roared and flung the door open. "DI Drake is back here Monday morning, end of. Now piss off!"
They were though the door like a shot and Gene slammed it so hard the whole structure quivered.
Then he smiled. Sometimes, one plus one made eleven. Quite a day and it wasn't over yet – time to tell Bolly she was coming back to base.
.oOo.
She could hardly wait until she heard his key in the door and she ambushed him as soon as he had set one foot into the hall. Pulling him against her, she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and shoulders and, sensing what she wanted, he lifted her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist as she kissed him passionately.
Gene staggered backwards with the force of her onslaught and caused the hall door to slam behind them with a bang. They broke their kiss with a breathless laugh.
"Now, that's a welcome home," he said, slightly out of breath.
"That's only the beginning," she said, kissing him again. "I'm coming back to Fenchurch? Really?"
"Really, Bolls. Whatever's going on, you've done your bit. Don't want you left in that office until hell froze over."
Alex hugged him tightly. "Thank you."
"It's all on your own merit, Bolly. You've really impressed McGary and Leddin; you've worked very hard and you don't deserve to be tucked away and forgotten about."
She looked at him suspiciously. "What are you not telling me?'
"I don't like them having your arse to look at when you could be wiggling it in front of me." He kissed her properly. She began to slip out of his grasp and he locked his arms together tightly under her bum, not forgetting to have a feel on the way.
"Are you losing your strength, Hunt?" she teased, blowing cool air softly into his ear.
"My blood's only going to essential muscles at the moment, Drake," he replied, nipping at her throat.
"You able to walk up the stairs?"
"Nope," he said and shuffled towards the sitting room, Alex still held firmly in his arms.
"Gene? Gene, upstairs is more comf -" she broke off with a delighted shriek as he kicked the door shut, dumped her on the couch and joined her.
.oOo.
Gene couldn't wait to have Alex back in Fenchurch and resented having to wait out the week. It didn't help that the bastard DCI Mooreland showed up for a bomb scare in the local Tesco, creating havoc around the area and getting right up Gene's nose. The "bomb" turned out to be nothing more serious than a car battery with a wire coat hanger wrapped around it but it had taken a lot of time and budget to find that out.
He hadn't forgotten Mooreland's behaviour on the awful day of the Hyde Park bombing. The misery he'd put Alex through. He could still picture her pale face, her eyes red from crying. Mooreland, in a fit of spite, had kept her at an incident post when any decent human being would have sent her home, or at least sent her to join the Fenchurch crew where she should have been. Gene would never forgive him. He hoped Mooreland would have the sense to stay out of his way. He had enough to deal with at the moment without kicking the bastard's head in.
But early on Friday morning, Gene went into CID and there he was, Mooreland, talking to his old Branch buddy Crane. Gene stayed out of their sight and nudged the door open fractionally with the toe of his boot.
"Work is work, David. You must remember that," said Mooreland.
"I do. But this was a car battery and a coat hanger. I don't get-"
"Is Hunt shagging Drake?" interrupted Mooreland.
"I have no idea," came the reply.
"Bet he is. I would."
Gene's fist clenched. Fucking bastard.
"Right, Crane - you know where I am, of course. I'll be in touch."
"Sir, I have no links to Branch anymore and I-"
"What? Can't an old friend stop by to say hello?"
Gene had heard enough; he strode through the doors and stood directly in front of Crane.
Mooreland didn't bother getting to his feet. "Superintendent Hunt."
Gene gave him the hard stare.
"How's life with the big boys?" asked Mooreland.
Gene ignored him. "Where's Capplan?" he said to David.
"Gone for a paper, Sir, and he said he'd call up to see you with the final report on the bomb scare."
"Quite the hive of activity around these parts recently. Sir," said Mooreland, just this side of insolence.
As though Mooreland didn't exist, Gene kept his attention on Crane. "When Capplan gets back, tell him I'm waiting for him."
"Yes, Sir," said Crane.
Gene had almost left the office when Mooreland called out, "How's Alex?"
It took supreme effort but Gene continued on his way and showed no reaction whatsoever. Until he reached his office where he spent ten minutes throwing dart after dart with such fury that one dart gave up the ghost and fell apart.
.oOo.
Later that evening, all Gene's frustrations had been exorcised.
"Stop it, you," said Alex, looking down him over the rim of her glass.
"What?" he asked. His head was in her lap and he looked up at her, innocent pout in place.
Alex laughed and leaned down to kiss him. "As if you don't know. Lying there all rumpled, blond hair and blue eyed. You know exactly what you're doing." She smoothed a wayward lock of hair into place.
Gene shrugged, "I'm just lying here – can't help my hair and my eyes."
"Right," she said. "And are those Tweety feathers around your mouth, Sylvester?"
He stretched and gave up trying to hide the self-satisfied grin of contentment. "Can't help it, Bolls. I've got one gorgeous, sexy bird to come home to and from Monday, she'll be back in my cage."
"Can't wait," she said, twirling some of his hair around her finger. "Back on the team."
"We'll need de-briefing sessions at least twice a day."
She chuckled. "In your dreams, Sir."
"Dreams where you call me sir? Oh yes."
"This is going to be weird," she said, thinking what it would be like to work with him again.
"Nah, it'll be fine, Bolls. Unfortunately, I hardly see the inside of CID anymore. If I need to know something, an underling will bring it to me."
She waggled her eyebrows. "Volunteering for the position of chief underling, Sir."
"Tart," he replied with a grin.
Her fingers caressed the top of his chest, exposed by the unbuttoned V of his shirt. She popped another button open and traced a delicate line up to the hollow of his throat and back again.
"Are you happy to come back, Bolls?"
"Yes. I'm fed up with the Flying Squad, Gene. I'm going to crack up if I follow up another lead that goes nowhere. There is no link between all these blags. The whole set up stinks."
"What stinks?"
"Did you ever get the feeling that someone is making you look in the wrong places on purpose?"
He raised his eyebrows, inviting her to say more.
"I reckon these blags are being orchestrated to make us look in the wrong places at the wrong time. We spend time, money and energy on searching for connections that aren't there."
He smiled up at her. "Clever clogs. You're not the only one thinking all this is a set up." He filled her in on his chat with Leddin and McGary.
"Why didn't you tell me all of this?"
"Because if it's true then you've been dragged into this for a reason and if it's not true then you don't need to be involved any more than you are."
She withdrew her hand from his chest and Gene knew storm clouds were gathering.
"So you moved me to your cage?" she asked and his heart sank.
"No, Alex," he answered, his familiar scowl now in place. "McGary and Leddin know something is going on and they watch out for each other but there was no mention of what they do for you." He let that sink in a moment before continuing. "I have a responsibility to all the officers on my team and I would never leave any of you to twist in the wind like that. So by sticking to the original plan and moving you back to Fenchurch I had a way of getting you the support you needed. I'm not pulling you off the investigation but you're going to do it with a team who watches out for each other."
He sat up and reaching for his wine glass he drained the last of it. "This is not about me and you," he continued, "and Alex, you have to let me do my job as I let you do yours. It's different now, love. From time to time, I'm going to know things and have to do things without explaining myself to you and you are going to have to trust me. You are a DI and I trust you to do your job and not to take any foolish risks. I believe you when you tell me that I am the most important thing to you and I'm relying on you not to let me down and that you won't go and do something stupid that would leave me…" his voice broke and he went to take another drink, only to find that he had already finished it.
She rested her head between his should blades and slid her arms around his waist.
"I'm not patronising you," he said, swallowing back the uncomfortable feeling in his throat. "Okay, maybe I should've explained all this to you but I didn't think I had to. I'm not putting you in a cage in Fenchurch – I would never do that and I thought you would've understood; you are an officer on my team and-"
"Stop," she whispered and moved around so she could sit in his lap and hold him close. "Stop." She pressed kissed to his forehead, cheekbones and lips. "I didn't understand. I'm sorry."
He kissed her gently. "Bolly, there are going to be times when you won't understand and I'm not going to be able to tell you why all decisions are made but please, trust me-"
She interrupted him with more kisses. "You don't have to ask. Things are different in work now and it'll take a little bit of getting used to but I will. I promise."
He smiled at her. "You're a DI; it's your job to give your DCI a hard time and make sure he knows what the hell he's doing, the poor bastard. But you can't rip into your Superintendent and I know there will be times when you'll be dying to. It's why I have bodyguards in the form of three secretaries."
She snickered softly. "Fraidy cat."
"Of you in full flow? Christ, yes," he grinned and hugged her.
She cuddled close, glad that they'd leapt over yet another hurdle without an argument, quite the opposite in fact. After few moments of peaceful silence a thought struck her. "Gene?"
"Yes?"
"This Alex's Court thing with Jackie – do you still think it's something to do with me?"
He tucked her head under his chin. "I hope not but we can't rule it out either."
"What's going on?" she asked, "Why can't we just be left alone?"
"I don't know why but we'll be okay, Bolls. You and me – we've got each other's backs."
"We do," she whispered.
"You keep your eyes and ears open, especially next week."
"You too and if you have to go off investigating, will you make sure that-"
"Already taken care of, Bolls."
"Good," she said, still playing with the last fastened button on his shirt. "What's the plan for next week, then?"
"Monday, you come into Fenchurch and get yourself reacquainted and set up. Then on Tuesday – which I'm still taking off – you read through the Tricky Dick file. On Wednesday, fill us all in on what we have and let's get moving on his info. By Friday, I want it sorted."
Alex nodded. "If you haven't heard from Jackie by Friday, then you need to chase her up." She sighed deeply. "All that work, Gene… for what?" She let her head thud softly against his shoulder.
"It hasn't been for nothing, Bolls. Your hard work has been noticed and appreciated. Who knows what it'll bring when this whole thing is over."
She sighed again. "I feel as if I could sleep for a week."
"I know, love." He turned his face towards her and buried his nose in the silk collar of her robe, breathing in deeply as he loosened the knot on the belt. Alex giggled at the touch of his cool face against her neck and breasts. He shifted their position and knelt on the ground before her, hands slipping inside her robe and circling her waist as he continued to kiss all the lovely soft warm skin he could find. "Mmmm, lovely," he whispered, finally kissing her properly. Then he picked up their empty glasses and got to his feet. "Make the most of the weekend. Off to bed, Sleepy."
She hugged him tightly. "You'll be up soon, Grumpy?"
"Maybe," he grinned. "Go on, Bolly. Shoo."
"Leave the washing," she said, her intentions clear. She kissed him once more and left him to it.
Gene dumped all the crockery in the sink in two minutes flat and leapt up the stairs, taking them three at a time.
.oOo.
On Monday, they left for work together, revelling in the feeling of familiarity. Gene parked around the back of the station and they kissed each other goodbye in the car, with an assurance to meet in the canteen for some lunch. With that, Alex gathered up her jacket and headed back to CID and breathed in the familiar smoky air. "Home, sweet home."
Capplan called her into the office – they hadn't worked together before, after all. His office was different from Gene's – photographs of his wife and children, a few of his kids' drawing pinned on his notice board. They spoke about what her role would be and how she would fit into the team. All the details straightened out, Alex returned to the office. David Crane had already cleared off her old desk, much to Alex's surprise.
"David, you don't have to-"
"It's fine, Alex. I do better if I work closer to the coffee anyway. Like the way some people look like they need it injected into their veins as if they've been up all night." He smiled at her and gave her a cheeky wink.
She grinned, flipped him the two fingers, and slid in behind her old desk.
Shaz scooted over beside her with a stack of folders.
"This is what we're currently investigating, Boss," she said and soon, the two of them were absorbed in getting Alex up to speed and they kept at it until her phone rang around 11. It was Gene and he wanted to see her, soon as.
She managed to suppress her smile – they'd lasted all of two hours without seeing each other – and asked Shaz to sort out the remaining files for her. Then she headed off up the stairs to his office.
.oOo.
The knock on Gene's door made him stuff the report he was reading into his desk drawer and lock it, but it was Alex's face that peered round the door. "At last! Where've you been?"
"Working," she said pointedly and pulled out a chair. "What's up?"
"No time to rest your arse," he replied, pulling on his jacket. "Come on, Bolly, something to show you."
He marched her out of the station and round several corners before he turned down a small side street and into a poky little antiques shop. He rang a battered bell on the counter and there was a shuffling noise as an old man appeared.
"Ah, Mr Hunt. Good! You came back."
Gene nodded.
"Here we go," said Mr Salson and placed two old, tattered Bryant & May matchboxes on the counter. "Take your time. If you want me, just call." He shuffled off back to his office.
Alex slid the lids off. Inside each box was a ring; the one on the left was gold with an aquamarine solitaire and on the right, nesting in a black velvet cloth, was another gold ring with a small clear solitaire and delicate engravings around the band.
"What do you think, Bolls?"
She looked up at him in delight. "Gene… they're beautiful."
He slid an arm around her waist. "They'll suit you, then."
She smiled as she picked up one of the rings. "This aquamarine one is almost the colour of your eyes."
"It's not me who'll be wearing the ring." He kissed her head. "Soft tart."
She gave him a nudge. "What about this one?" She held it up to the light.
"It needs cleaning but the diamond is perfect. No chips or cracks."
She traced the tip of her finger over the engraving, so delicate she could hardly feel it. "It's so beautiful," she whispered, her eyes shining. "How on earth did you find this place?"
"Fate, Bolls. That and all the visits we've been doing to prevent these armed blags. "
Alex seemed almost memorised by the intricate vine patterns on the band. "Then it was meant to be. No other ring we've seen comes close."
"Want to try it on?"
She smiled at him, held out her left hand and he slid the ring into place. "It's perfect," she said as she cupped his jaw and kissed him. "Thank you so much."
"We can get a nice box for it," he said.
Alex shook her head. "No. It's been in this little matchbox and black velvet cloth for years. It's part of it."
"A diamond in the rough, huh?" he grinned.
"Mmm." She kissed him again. "I love it." She glanced up at him. "Is it going to break the bank?"
"Nah," he shook his head. "Fiver."
She snorted and hugged him close while he called out for Mr Salson. While they sorted out the payment and Gene filled out the cheque, Salson passed a chain to Alex.
"It's costume jewellery," he said, catching the look on both their faces. "Keep your ring on this until you get it resized, my dear. It's a bit loose and you don't want to lose it. I can give you the name of my jeweller – with that engraving you need someone who knows what he's doing."
She glanced at Gene who nodded in agreement. "Okay, Mr Salson, we'd appreciate that."
Gene fastened the chain around her neck and Alex made sure the ring was tucked safely inside her blouse.
"Lucky ring," he whispered in her ear, as they walked back to Fenchurch. "All warm and cushioned."
She giggled, blushing. DI Alexandra Drake, level-headed occupational psychologist, was dizzy with love. She didn't know how she was supposed to go back to work when she felt like dancing down the street.
As they reached Luigi's corner, Alex gave him a heartfelt hug. "Thank you again, sweetheart."
"You deserve it," he said and then frowned at her. "Right, you, put me down. My hard-as-nails image is taking a severe hammering. Go on, bugger off and do something useful." Alex pouted and chuckling, he kissed her lightly. "See you for lunch?"
"Of course," she smiled. "We lasted two whole hours this morning. I reckon we can survive another 40 minutes."
"Just about," he said and then gave her one final hug. "Bye, Bolls." He released her and walked towards the side entrance to the station.
Alex, barely able to take the smile off her face, went to the front entrance and returned to CID where only Shaz noticed the rosy pink flush on the DI's face.
.oOo.
Ray tried to get Gene's attention about the Tesco bomb for the third time but it was clear that the Superintendent's attention was fixed on Alex as she stood in the dinner queue. Ray followed Gene's gaze, sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. This was too good an opportunity to miss. "So... City really are a bunch of poofs then, right, Guv?"
"Right," replied Gene, pushing some spaghetti aimlessly around his plate, eyes fixed on Alex as she pondered over an apple or peach at the counter. I love you, Bolly.
"I mean, they're that bad, they couldn't hit water if they fell off a boat. Bunch of fairy boy nonces. Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Chris could hardly keep his laughter hidden and decided he'd have a go while the Superintendent was so smitten. "I bet City will give up the day job and start cleaning the boots in United from now on. Boot boys are all they're fit for. Wouldn't you say so, Sir?"
"I would..." Alex and peaches. Peachy. Delightful images from last night filled his brain.
Ray bit back a snort of laughter. "Boot boys? Too good for 'em. I reckon they'll take over as cleaners in Old Trafford. Bog cleaning would be perfect, right, Guv?"
Gene watched her as she moved towards him, her fitted blue jumper showing off all the right curves in all the right places. "Since you both know so much about bogs and boots, you'll spend the next hour in the bog extracting my boots from your respective arses if you say another word," he said, smiling at Alex and ignoring the stricken look on Ray and Chris's faces. He shifted down a seat so Alex could sit beside him and then his gaze turned to Chris.
"J-just going, Sir," stammered Chris, seeing death in the steel blue glare. Ray was already scuttling to the door.
Alex was bemused at their sudden departure. "What's that about?"
Gene grinned at her and looked her up and down slowly. "I love that jumper."
She shook her head, even though the heat from his gaze made her smile and blush a little. "You are an incorrigible flirt, Gene."
He shrugged. "I can't help it if you walk in here looking like Diana Dors, can I?"
"She was blonde."
"It's not her hair that reminds me of you," he said with a twinkle.
.oOo.
Much later that evening, after showers, dinner and good wine, they were curled up on the garden lounge, enjoying the balmy night. Gene was pensive and not particularly talkative; he held her close and stared into the darkened garden, watching the occasional moth flutter near the lanterns Alex had lit earlier.
He slid his hand inside her robe and placed it over her heart. "Don't know what to say, Bolly. Thank you seems piss poor, but… thank you for agreeing to marry me and for putting up with me. I know it's not always easy."
She twisted around to face him. "You have no idea, do you?" she said softly, tracing his eyebrows, nose and lips. "The minor annoyances between us are nothing, nothing, compared to the happiness we have, love. I know I drive you nuts too, but we don't let all those minor little things get in the way of loving each other. Thank you too. For my beautiful ring and for – everything."
He kissed her gently and hugged her tight. "Best girl."
She smiled up at him and cupped his jaw. "You're quiet this evening. What's up?"
He shrugged slightly, his throat feeling dry all of a sudden. She had a right to know – before they made any promises that weren't easy to break. "Do you know when I first came across Jackie Queen?"
Alex frowned. What had Jackie got to do with his quiet mood? Oh Christ… he didn't… "No. All I know is that you had affair with her shortly before you got divorced."
Her tone was clipped and Gene knew what she was thinking. "Yeah, Bolls. Not a mistake I'd make twice. This was ten years before that," he said, before taking a deep breath. "Okay – there was a post office blag that went tits up. This 14-year-old kid with a gun ran out of the post office towards the crowd. At least, I thought it was a gun and I had to make a decision so I did – I shot him in the back, I killed him and the gun was a stick." He heaved a deep sigh before continuing. "Jackie roasted me for it in the newspaper and the people in my city, they all crossed over the road if I walked along it. I was worse than shit on their shoes and it was a long time until they forgot. But I never did – never forgot that I had lost a kid and never forgot that I killed one. I couldn't stand to be around children. Blamed them for my mistakes."
He sat up slightly and pulled a cigarette from the packet, but didn't light it. "I do want children, Alex, it's… apart from all that shit there's memories of my old man. I'm just… you know…"
"I know, love."
He closed his eyes in grateful relief. The awful secret, the one he knew Jackie could blurt out to spite him, had no power any more. He looked down at the kind, loving woman in his arms; tipped her head up so he could look into her eyes. "I love you," he said and for the first time in his life, Gene really understood what that meant.
.oOo.
On Tuesday, Alex wanted to get in early; she kissed a sleepy Gene goodbye and envied his day off. "See you later," she whispered, kissing his forehead one last time.
He hummed and turned over. "Five more minutes," he mumbled.
Alex suppressed a laugh and left him to it, his snores already evident by the time she left the house. When she arrived in Fenchurch, there was nobody in CID yet, so she had the place to herself. She cleaned off a whiteboard properly, organised notebooks, got pens that worked, collected a few blank tapes and tape recorder and commenced a new file. By the time she was done, everyone else had arrived and just after nine, she went to the custody desk and chatted with Viv for a while before he showed her where all the snout information was kept. He signed her in at 9.17am and gave her the keys to the filing cabinet.
Tricky Dick was filed under his real name, Richard Daniels. Alex pulled open the A-E drawer, gritting her teeth as the drawer screeched, metal grinding on metal.
Shaz materialised at her elbow. "I'd have got this for you, Boss."
"I know, Shaz, I'm just eager to get going.' She flicked through files. 'Cruthers… Daily… Darcy… Dean… Depford…" She searched again. And again. "Jesus, it's not here..." She rifled through the files once more.
"It must be. I put it there myself." Shaz nudged Alex out of the way and looked. After a few minutes her large eyes fixed on her anxious D.I. "It's gone."
Alex felt sick. Calling Viv in, she asked to see the log. "Who's had access to this cabinet over the past few months?"
"No file leaves that cabinet without me knowing about it," said Viv, almost personally affronted.
"So who's taken it?" She raised a hand in apology for her sharp tone. "Sorry, Viv, but it's important."
He brought the log, and they went through it even though Alex knew that the answer wouldn't be there. Another trail had just gone cold, unless…
"Shaz? Chris was following up on a number plate to do with this Daniels info, right?" She hurried back to CID with Shaz in her wake. "Chris? Richard Daniels – where did you put the vehicle check information?"
Chris thought for a moment. "With the other stuff."
"Shit." Alex knew now that they had nothing. Everything on Tricky Dick was gone.
.oOo.