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: A big thank you to Lucida Bright for her invaluable beta-ing services - I wouldn't post anything unless her trusty blue pencil gave it the twice over. Also, thanks to all of you who continue to review and give support.
Alex Court: Part 1
There was consternation in the office at the news of the missing file. Alex felt bad for Shaz and put a hand on the young woman's shoulder.
"It's not a reflection on you, Shaz."
"Thanks, Boss," came Shaz's dejected reply. She knew that Sergeant James wouldn't look too favourably on a file going missing.
"Should we call the Super, Boss?" asked Ray.
Alex rubbed her forehead, another headache threatening. Gene took the day off so that he could finish hanging wallpaper in his spare room. They had agreed on a plain grey striped paper that would be 'easy to match' and so far, it had proved anything but. One thing was certain, if the wallpaper paste didn't keep the paper up, the expletives would. No, it wouldn't be sensible to disturb him, especially with bad news.
"There's nothing he could do," she said glumly.
"Agreed," said Capplan. "Let the man have a day off. Now, some bastard's taken a confidential file from this station and we need to know who. Viv? Anything?"
"Nothing, Guv. The only people who've accessed the snout files in the time period in question have been WPC Granger and yourself. Superintendent Hunt arranged it that way. He knew that if Shaz looked after the files, nothing would be misfiled or lost."
Tears glittered in Shaz's eyes.
"This is not your fault, Shaz," said Capplan. "First up, Chris, what work did you do with that reg plate?"
"I sent it to vehicle licensing and they sent the list back but I didn't have a chance to look at it."
"Do you remember what the plate was?" Alex asked, hoping against hope.
Chris shook his head. "Sorry, Boss. Everything was metal then – I can't remember. I do know it was only a partial plate, though."
Alex's shoulders slumped as she sat in behind her desk. "I don't believe this. We got solid info and it's just vanished into thin air. Daniels won't tell us that stuff a second time. We can't trace what we had. We don't even know what we had. Dammit!"
Shaz spoke up. "There is one thing we can do. Ask the vehicle records people if they have a record of what they sent us."
Capplan clapped Shaz on the back. "Well done, Granger. Okay, work with Skelton. We know roughly when the info went for checking – you narrow the dates down and see what comes back. You never know, we make strike it lucky."
.oOo.
The following morning, bedroom finally papered and wallpaper paste finally out of his hair in more ways than one, Gene was eager to get in to Fenchurch. Alex had filled him in on what had happened and he was not a happy man. Pushing through the doors into CID, he yelled for Ray.
Chris appeared from the kitchenette. "He's in the bog, Sir."
"Get your jacket, Chris, we're going out just as soon as Crapping Carling returns."
"All right, Crane?" he asked, turning to the observant DI.
"Yes, Sir. Nothing major is happening at the moment, apart from the Daniels stuff. The Guv stepped out about ten minutes ago – do you want me to call him for you?"
"No. I need these two twats for an hour and I'll return them in more or less same condition I got them in." He saw Ray sauntering down the corridor. "Raymondo! Get your arse in gear. We're going out."
That was music to Ray's ears. "Where're we heading, Guv?"
"To see our pet nonce. Move it!" Gene swept his hands in the direction of the doors and both detectives moved it. He met Alex's eyes on the way out the door and, giving her a look, he inclined his head slightly towards Crane before leaving.
She had no idea what he was getting at and the swinging doors behind him gave no clue.
.oOo.
Once underway, Gene filled them in. "Ray, you're with me and don't so much as twitch unless I give you the nod. Chris, you hang around outside near the back office and be invisible. When we're gone, I'll bet Tricky makes a phone call and if he does, you listen carefully. Then get your arse back to the station. Clear?"
"Clear, Sir," said Chris eagerly.
"Clear, Guv."
Gene resisted correcting Ray – he'd been Guv to this pair for far too long and he really didn't care if they called him Guv or Sir. He might have to mention it to Andy Capp as "The Guv" was a badge of honour. It wouldn't be fair on the man, who had more than earned his stripes. After all, he didn't pick Capplan for the job for nothing.
Pulling up outside Tricky's crumbling garage, the detectives spilled from the car.
"Mr Daniels!" bellowed Gene at Tricky Dick's legs. The rest of him was under a black taxi.
The roar caused Daniels to jump and smash his head on the sump.
"Argh, you stupid fuck! Fuck it!" came the agonised cries of pain as he scooted the mechanic's trolley forward, clutching his head. "I'll fucking have you – oh."
"That's a lot of big fucks from such a little fuck," said Gene calmly, glaring down at the supine mechanic.
Tricky scrambled to his feet. "Mr Hunt, Sir. I - I - no news, Sir."
"There's always news, Daniels," replied Gene, "and I want you to tell me whose payroll you were on before my time."
"Payroll? I've always had my garage -"
Gene barely glanced at Ray, who then muscled forward, the threat of menace evident. "Answer Mr Hunt properly when he asks you a question. Whose snout were you?"
Tricky shook his head. "I weren't a snout. I swear."
Gene gave Ray a nod and Ray stepped back. Fiddling with a lighter, Gene's icy calmness was far more menacing than Ray's threat of violence. "You swear, do you? Come on, Daniels. You were about to be sent down for a fifteen-year stretch, yet you somehow managed to walk away scot-free. Someone had a vested interest in keeping you out of jail. Give me the name."
Tricky sneered at them, puffed out his chest but stuffed his shaking hands into the pockets of his overalls. "I don't have a name, Mr Hunt. If someone wanted to keep me out of prison, they never told me. And you should watch your bouncer – he so much as lays a finger on me, I'll report the lot of you to your Super. I'm not afraid of you and I'll show anyone the bruises you give me."
Gene chose not enlighten the man that his threat was null and void. "I do watch my men. And they're going to be watching you, Dick, very, very closely. You so much as fart and someone will do you for environmental pollution. You're lying to me and I do not take kindly to that."
"You're all pigs," muttered Daniels. It was his last coherent thought before his eyes poured water; he clutched at his groin, gasping.
"There'll be no bruise there, pal," snarled Gene. "Just a little taster for tomorrow when I'll be back. I suggest you get your brain in gear and remember who you worked for. Now, back to work," he shoved Tricky backwards and the man landed on the trolley with a bang, followed by a howl of pain as tender areas got another assault, this time from his carelessly placed hammer.
"Oh dear me. Bashed yourself on the balls, Dick?" queried Gene. "You want to be careful. In future, tidy up after yourself, you messy little fucker."
.oOo.
Gene slammed the driver's door shut and hoped Chris would remember to stay well hidden. "Not much of a result but Christ, that felt good."
Ray grinned. "Just like old times, eh, Guv?"
"Just like old times," repeated Gene, lighting a fag after he started the car. "Like lots of things."
Ray didn't follow. "What things?"
"You. Fucking up again because you feel paperwork is beneath you." He threw the car into reverse and then spun it around before speeding back towards Fenchurch.
"It weren't my paperwork -" he began.
"Yeah, it was Chris's. And you're his sergeant," interrupted Gene. "I know everything we had on Tricky ended up in the snout file because you told Chris to put it there."
Ray had the sense not to argue, especially not when the Guv was right. "I'll put it right, Guv."
"You better believe you will and you're not getting any overtime for it either. The next time a DC prepares a vehicle cross check, you better remember it's your responsibility to prepare the case file. There's a fucking reason why follow up information is kept separate from the snout files and you know it. You screw up on paperwork like that again and I'll make you chew your own bollocks off. You got me, Raymondo?" said Gene, deadly serious.
"Yes, Guv." It had been too long since he'd been anywhere with his Guv and he'd take the rebuke. He didn't know how he could put things right but he was certain that if any mistakes were made in this investigation from now on, they wouldn't be his.
.oOo.
That evening, before Gene came home, there was a loud knock at the front door just as Alex was scrubbing potatoes for supper. With a sigh, she dried her hands and went to answer it, opening the door to a blonde woman about her own age.
"Oh..." said the woman and checked a bit of paper in her hand again. "Does Gene Hunt live here?"
"Yes but he's not here at the moment."
The woman looked her up and down. "You're DI Alexandra Drake." It wasn't a question.
"Yes…" Alex wasn't prepared for that.
"I'm Jackie Queen," she said, her eyebrow arching.
"Ah – yes. Good to put a face to a name," replied Alex. The hell it was - she didn't want this woman in their home.
"Could you give this to Gene for me? It's the information he wanted." Jackie handed Alex an envelope. "Tell him... no, doesn't matter."
Whatever she might feel, Alex knew that Gene needed to talk to Jackie. "Do you want to come in?"
"If he wants me, he knows where to find me. Goodbye."
"Ms Queen, could I ask you something?"
Jackie turned back. "It's Jackie. What?"
"Where did you get this information?"
Seeing genuine worry on Alex's face, Jackie relented with a sigh and walked back towards the house.
Alex waved her inside and hoped that Jackie would make it snappy. She didn't want Gene and Jackie clashing here. She didn't even want to see them together.
"Very nice," commented Jackie looking around at the house as she followed Alex through to the kitchen. "Have you and Gene been here long?"
"A while," said Alex and turned the kettle on. "Would you prefer tea or-"
"No, thanks. Ask me whatever it is you want to know so I can leave."
Alex didn't argue. "Can I read this?" She held up the envelope.
Jackie nodded and Alex opened the envelope and took out the piece of paper, reading it quickly. "Is that it?"
"That's it."
"Where did you get this?"
"Overheard it;. I was doing a writers walk around London and went into The Prospect of Whitby, on Wapping Wall. Dickens used to frequent –.'
"Don't need the travelogue, thanks." Alex was getting impatient.
Jackie bridled. "All right, keep your hair on. I overheard these two men talking. One big bloke and a little ratty one. They said something about queen or doing it the queen's way. You know when you hear your own name mentioned? After a while, they got a bit rowdy about some car in a garage and the landlord kicked them out. So I followed them."
"You followed them?" asked Alex, impressed by the blonde woman's fearlessness.
Jackie shrugged. "Of course. Investigative journalists who sit on their arses in the office get damn all. So, I followed them to the corner of Prusom Street where the big bloke made a phone call from the box near the paper stand. I listened in and that's what I heard. It was the best I could do while pretending to buy a magazine and talk to the seller at the same time." She nodded at the bit of paper Alex was holding.
"You told Gene that your informant said everything you needed for your story could be found 'in Alex's court'."
"Poetic licence," said Jackie, looking utterly unconcerned. "I knew he never meet me otherwise. But I know when something smells rotten and whatever those two blokes were planning, it was rotten. Alex Court is central to all of this and with a little bit of digging, I happened across your name. Then I wondered if-"
"I know what you wondered," interrupted Alex, not knowing if she should be angry or concerned. "Have you been back there?"
"Yes, went back to the pub and sniffed around Prusom Street. Nothing – except I could've sworn I saw the little guy scurrying from the King & Crown one evening. He'd vanished before I could catch up with him."
"What do you think this means?" asked Alex, gesturing to the note in her hands.
"Your guess is as good as mine."
Alex nodded thoughtfully. "Have you got anything else that could help us?"
Her use of the word us was not lost on Jackie. "Nothing. Have you got anything that could help me?"
"Nothing."
"Thought as much. By the way, I expect first dibs on the story if you unearth something."
"It's not my call but fair's fair and all that. Actually…" Alex reached across for her briefcase. "Could you look at a photograph for me?" She opened a file and withdrew a recent photograph of Tricky Dick that Gene had somehow unearthed. "Is this one of the men you saw?"
"Yeah! That's him – little ratty chap. I never got a good look at the big man – all I can say is that he wore a long black coat with the collar turned up, and he wore a trilby. Who is this guy?"
"Richard Daniels – he owns a garage on Prusom Street." She kept her excitement to herself. They were trying to secure a phone tap on Tricky Dick's line. Chris had overheard him making a call about Gene's visit and had told them that Tricky had sounded nervous to say the very least. With Jackie's information linking back to Tricky, Alex knew they were on to something big. Maybe huge.
Jackie looked at her intently. "Anything else you can share? I mean, you just happen to have a photo of the man I'm talking about in your briefcase. That's strikingly… odd."
Alex shrugged. "Nothing much. Richard Daniels gave us a tip off about a stolen vehicle some time ago and I've been trying to follow up on it. You might've overheard him setting up a deal about another stolen vehicle. I really don't know what we have." Honesty was the best policy here. Alex had already twigged that Jackie was no fool. If she lied, Jackie would suspect something was up and would never talk to them again. After all the cryptic clues to date it was time to cut out the bullshit and get to work.
Jackie gave a small smile. "You're quite the straight talker, aren't you?"
"I find it helps."
"I can see why Gene is with you." She checked her watch again. "Is he always home this late? Christ, I don't know how you put up with his late hours."
Alex's eyes narrowed fractionally at the obvious attempt to make her concerned about Gene's 'late hours'. "If you want to see him that badly, you know where to find him."
"I do," she said with a knowing smile. "Right, well, I'd best be off. I'll be in touch, Alex."
The air was getting decidedly chilly. "Of course," said Alex and showed Jackie out. "Thank you for this."
She watched Jackie walk down the road as if she hadn't a care in the world. Alex wasn't so carefree and she closed the door behind her with a sigh and looked at the note again. She picked up the phone and rang Gene's office; glad to catch him just before he left.
Ten minutes later she was waiting on the tube on her way back to Fenchurch.
.oOo.
"What... the... fuck..." muttered Gene, turning Jackie's note over in his hands. "She's either on drugs or mad as a loon. Or both." He sighed and passed the note back to Alex.
Alex read aloud from it for the benefit of the others. "Mid land in the glade beneath the magic roundabout. Bring the package to Alex Court where Dougal is and he'll sort it. No, Alex Court is central. Yes, everything moves through a most reliable network thanks to our man inside."
"This? This bollocks is what she runs rings around me for?" Gene got to his feet and stalked off to the kitchen. "Tricky Dick, Magic Roundabouts and Dougal? What next? Zebedee and fucking Ermintrude?"
Alex rubbed her forehead in frustration. "It's a code based on the Magic Roundabout." She ignored Gene's loud snort of derision. "Chris? Whiteboard." She also ignored the weary groans and sighs from the assembled officers.
Chris pushed a whiteboard into place and Alex wrote the statement up. "This thing that's 'in the glade', let's call it -"
"Drugs," said Ray, a glum look on his face.
"Except it might not be drugs and we shouldn't assume anything," corrected Alex. "Let's call it -"
"Swag," interrupted Gene, keen to cut to the chase. "Whatever's in that package, they don't have a receipt for it."
Alex wrote SWAG on the board. "This swag is in the glade beneath the Magic Roundabout. Someone is to retrieve the swagand then give it to Dougal in Alex Court. This Dougal will 'sort and send' the swag through a 'most reliable network'. This reliable network seems to have been arranged by man inside the network or-"
"A man inside," said Chris. "A bloke who's banged up. In prison."
"Alex, if I may?" asked Crane. "Seeing as how this is associated with Tricky Dick and we know that he was helping to fence stolen jewellery with a little drug smuggling thrown in for fun, could we not assume that the swag is jewels? Isn't this what's behind all these armed blags?"
"We can't make assumptions on this case," said Gene, somewhat impatiently. Didn't Crane listen?
"Mr Hunt is correct," said Alex. "Let's do this one step at a time. We need to link the Magic Roundabout and a glade. Divide up into teams and each team take a heading. Historical links. Children's stories. Geography…" She bit her lip as she wrote the headings on the board, thinking.
"Religious references," said Gene; Alex wrote it up. They had ten headings by the time they were done and Alex gave them 48 hours to do their research. Reminding everyone to keep the entire conversation with Tricky Dick and his source in mind, Gene dismissed everyone for the night.
.oOo.
"You okay?" came Gene's voice from the darkness.
"Yes," she replied and rolled over to face him. "Couldn't sleep – everything's buzzing in my brain."
"That's what you get for being a busy bee, Bolly," he said and slid an arm around her. "Did Jackie say anything else to you?"
"No – I kept the conversation short."
He looked down at her. "Not a fan?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Hardly. She's one tough woman, though. I'll give her that."
He chuckled. "It takes one to know one."
She didn't say anything further. Tough, ballsy women – obviously they were his type. She hadn't thought about Gene's type of woman before and it irked her slightly to think that she could be pigeon-holed.
"Give over," he rumbled. "You're both tough and mouthy but the similarities end there. There's nobody like my Bolly." He kissed her forehead. "Try to sleep, love. Tomorrow's going to be hectic."
"Hmmm," she replied in agreement and tucked herself closer to him. "You okay too?"
"Yes. But I want to find out what this Alex Court bullshit is about tomorrow. Want you in the clear."
"Me too." She cuddled into his chest and closed her eyes.
He wrapped both arms tightly around her and hugged her. Then, releasing her, he cupped her face in her hands and kissed her gently. "I couldn't stand it if this Alex Court thing was about you. I told you I'd never put you in a cage and I wouldn't - you're free to do whatever you want to do but…" he broke off and kissed her again but was unable to ask.
"But what?" she asked. "Gene, I would never do anything foolish. Not now – not when I've got my life with you."
"You keep your wing mirrors clear, Bolly and be aware of the people around you. There's no accounting for nutters."
She smiled. "Nowt as queer as folk, eh, Shirley?"
The got a laugh from him. "Stop it. You can't do a Northern accent."
"I can, and all."
He snorted another laugh against her shoulder.
"I'll be careful, my love. Of course I will," she whispered into his ear. "I love you. You are my first and last thought and you always will be."
He eased himself on top of her, finding familiar comfort in her arms. "How'd I get so lucky?"
"Looks like I'm the one about to get lucky," she said, grinning up at him.
He moved down slowly, kissing as he went and losing himself in making her sigh and gasp as he sucked at a nipple.
There was a thump from the front door.
He rolled off her and Alex sat up. "What -"
Gene leapt out of bed and threw on the first clothes to hand.
"Gene, wait for me," she hissed and clambered into leggings and tee-shirt before following him.
There was another knock and Gene reached for her hand, eyes never leaving the door. "Alex, get my gun from the bedr-"
Another impatient knock. "Open up, Gene," came a gruff whisper. "It's me."
"Bloody hell." Gene breathed in relief and immediately ran down the stairs and opened the door as Alex peered around his shoulder.
"Andy?" she asked, stunned to see her DCI at 4am.
"What's happened?" asked Gene, ushering the man inside.
"Tricky Dick is dead."
~x~X~ To be continued ~X~x~
