Chapter Twenty
For an hour they tried to ignore it. They went about their business, checking files, compiling papers, taking phone calls, making sure the Miller case was closed and complete. If Gene and Simon had been dealing with a white elephant in the car then Malcolm and Susannah were dealing with a whole herd of them. Finally Susannah couldn't bear the silence any longer.
"It's like when a relationship first begins," she said, her words echoing around the mostly empty CID, "you overlook the flaws because you are so happy. But then as time goes on the flaws begin eating away at what's still good… and you suddenly see things for what they are."
Malcolm looked at her in alarm.
"Are you not happy with me any more?" he asked anxiously, "you're seeing all my flaws? It's the suit, isn't it? I knew the purple was a mistake!"
"No, Malcolm," Susannah sighed, "I was… trying to find an analogy."
To begin with Malcolm thought she said an allergy and began to offer her a tissue but realised his mistake at the last minute and pretended he needed it instead.
"What do you mean then?" he asked, wiping his nose.
"The cracks have started to appear," Susannah said a little sadly, "when we first started working at Fenchurch East I was so taken with the place that I didn't even realise things felt… strange. And even if I did, I was enjoying my work so much that I just glossed over it."
Malcolm understood now.
"Yeah," he sighed, "I think I know what you mean."
"I mean, think about all the people who have just disappeared," Susannah dropped her voice a little lower, "no goodbyes, no transfer request, no… anything. One day they've been there and the next…"
"Never to be seen again," Malcolm agreed, nodding sadly. He remembered particularly a chap by the name of DC Paul Miles who he'd befriended closely five years earlier and had seemingly disappeared in the middle of a case. According to Gene he'd had urgent family business and gone away for a whie but had never been in touch since.
"Remember when we started working here?" Susannah continued, "we all just pitched up on the same day. I can't even remember what I did before that."
Malcolm began to feel a lump of anxiety rising in his throat.
"What about Webber?" he asked, "were did he go? One minute he was off to the pub with the Guv and then he transferred out."
"And all the years he spent blaming himself for Simon's death," Susannah shook her head, "now he suddenly reappears, most definitely alive! I didn't even get to practice my first aid on him!"
Malcolm took in a very deep breath. It was the only way to stop himself from keeling over in fear. Something wasn't right. He didn't know how he had never spotted it before. How had he missed all the clues?
"What about Kim?" he asked, "she's round the bend. Always talking to stuff."
"They all have," sighed Susannah, "where is Kim anyway? I saw her heading back out the building when I came in this morning and I haven't seen her since."
"I passed her in the car park," said Malcolm, "she said she needed to pick up something from home."
"She only lives two minutes away, Susannah pointed out, "that was well over an hour ago now." She paused and fingered her desk where four numbers were carved into the surface. They had always been there and she had never asked about them. Gene's reaction to them was strange enough at the best of times. It has taken him months to allow her the use of the desk in the first place, and even when she'd taken charge of it he seemed to feel the need to cover them up every time he passed by.
"What's up, Susie?" Malcolm asked as she realised how quiet she'd fallen.
"Sorry," she said, "I was just thinking about these. The numbers." She pointed to the desk. Malcolm peered over. He had been vaguely aware of them but never really take them in.
"Six-six-two-oh?" he read.
"Why does Hunt go crazy every time he sees them?"
"Who wrote them in the first place?"
"I don't know," Susannah developed a sense of purpose and determination, "but I think it's about time we tried to find out. I think we're owed some answers."
Malcolm looked up in alarm.
"What are you going to do?" he asked.
"I think some of the Miller case files are in DCI Hunt's office," she told him pointedly, "I'm going to see if I can find them."
Malcolm's mouth dropped open.
"Are you crazy?" he cried, "he'll kill you if you go in there!"
"Oh relax," Susannah sighed, "it's not like he's rigged up a burglar alarm! I'm only looking for some papers…" she motioned to him. "Come on."
"I'm not going in there!"
"Fine, stay here and keep watch."
Malcolm glanced around. Memories of giant, angry dogs and twinkling stars haunted him.
"I don't want to stay out here on my own," he said quietly.
"Then come on!" Susannah took his arm this time and led him to the door of Genes office.
Suddenly, is all seemed so big. So much to handle. Too difficult to breathe. The other side of that door lay the office they had rarely been permitted to step into. Forbidden ground. The place they knew they should never step. More terrifying was the prospect of finding answers to questions they'd only just found the courage to ask. They both stood for a while, staring at the name on the door, until finally Malcolm made a confession.
"I'm scared witless."
Susannah looked at him nervously.
"That makes two of us," she said quietly, "but we're together. We need to do this."
Malcolm gathered his courage and nodded firmly as though to persuade himself.
"Let's do it," he whispered.
Slowly, they opened the door and saw a space that was wholly Gene's stretching out before them. Cautiously stepping inside, they closed the door behind them and looked around.
"What are we looking for?" asked Malcolm as he scanned his eyes across the items on Gene's desk.
"Something… anything…" Susannah began, cautiously opening the drawers in his desk one at a time, "files… papers on the people who disappeared. Maybe bribe money?"
"Bribe money?" Malcolm almost choked, "Bribery for what? Pushing up whiskey sales?"
"Making people 'vanish'," Susannah said, skimming through Gene's personal belongings, "or helping them to disappear." She lifted a box and peered inside to find a half-eaten crisp sandwich. "Ew!"
"You don't really think…"Malcolm began, "Gene wouldn't do anything like that."
Susannah hesitated for a moment.
"Honestly? I don't think he would either," she began, "but logically… how many people can you see disappear from the team before you ask where they've gone? What about that guy… Tariq? We were halfway through a raid on that brothel and he walked into a room and never came out!"
"Maybe he found the one where all the prozzies were hiding?" Malcolm joked, but he remembered the case only too well. He'd been listed as 'Missing' for months afterwards but eventually everyone gave up looking for him. Alex had told them he probably 'found the pace hard going' and took a sabbatical.
"Oh, this is useless," Susannah cried exasperatedly, "I thought there would be something… something other than Guv's novelty condom collection and this questionnaire about whether your suit is affecting the morale of the team…"
"Give me that!" cried Malcolm, snatching a sheet of paper from Susannah.
It was starting to seem like a fruitless search, until Susannah happened upon something shiny, tucked away in the back of a drawer. She pulled it out and examined it nervously. Four numbers. Four familiar numbers.
"Mal, look," she breathed. She handed the item to Malcolm who looked over it carefully, his fingers tracing the metal shaped into a clear 6620. He began to feel a chill of fear running down his spine.
"What the hell is this?" he whispered.
"I don't know, but I'm starting to regret ever having this conversation," Susannah began as a whisper of laughter and chatter filled the air. She looked around frantically but couldn't locate the source. One glance at Malcolm showed that he had heard the same.
"Shit, Susie, What the hell…" he edged closer to her and scanned the room, her eyes doing exactly the same, just hoping to find the source of the noises. When neither could see anything that would cause such a strange sound, Susannah made a decision.
"We're spooking ourselves," she said firmly, "put everything back where we found it and let's get out of this office."
"Good plan," said Malcolm. He spun around to put back the suit questionnaire but caught a pile of papers with the edge of his jacket and sent them sprawling. "Oh god, what now?"
"Clumsy oaf," Susannah admonished, bending down to scoop them up when suddenly she froze. Malcolm saw her staring at the file in her hand and knew something wasn't right.
"What? What is it, Susie?"
Susannah held up the file.
"Look," she said quietly, "Kim's papers."
Malcolm looked nervously at the file in her hands. Although there had been several strange members of the team pass through over the years Kim had struck them as the strangest. Her behaviour was so erratic that they could barely work out why she hadn't received her marching orders yet.
"We can't look," he said quickly, "those are private."
Susannah let the file fall open in her hand.
"Whoops," she said innocently.
Malcolm turned his back.
"I'm having no part of this!" he cried, then paused and glanced over his shoulder. "…so, what's in there?"
Susannah rolled her eyes and scanned the information. She flicked through the pages and sighed, shaking her head.
"Nothing," she said, "nothing, nothing, nothing. Transferred from Sussex, nothing disciplinary, nothing at all. Just straightforward transfer -" a loose sheet of paper fell out of the back of the file and she watched it glide slowly to the ground. "…papers."
"What's that?" Malcolm frowned, scooping to pick it up. There was a photograph on the top of the sheet of a woman who looked familiar.
"That's… that's Kim," Susannah said in surprise, "God, she looks so different - she's got long, dark hair!"
"Is she undercover or something?" frowned Malcolm, "could that explain some of her behaviour?"
"I don't know," Susannah sighed as she took the sheet from him, "This… hang on… what the-?"
Malcolm bristled.
"What?"
"But… This doesn't make sense," Susannah frowned, "it says here she's always worked at Fenchurch East. She started work in…" he frown deepened by about three levels. "No, that's got to be a misprint."
"What?" Malcolm could hardly talk now. The look in Susannah's eyes almost took the breath from his lungs. "What is it, Suse?"
Susannah's hand shook just a little as she pointed to a line.
"Joined CID," she began, "two-thousand and three."
Malcolm looked at her in bewilderment.
"That's got to mean nineteen ninety three," he said.
"Who'd make a mistake that stupid?"
"Well, I don't know but nothing else makes sense."
"Look at this!" cried Susannah. She opened up the rest of the file again and held both sheets side by side. "Two transfer sheets, one person, two totally different sets of information. Same name but different date of birth, different years of service, different dates of employment, different histories."
"Different haircuts," Malcolm pointed out.
Susannah's eyes kept focusing on that strange date - 2003. It made no sense at all.
"Why has she got two identities?" she whispered.
"Has to be an undercover thing," Malcolm tried to reason.
"If it was then she wouldn't keep the same name," Susannah pointed out, "that's about the only thing that has stayed the same."
Before Malcolm could reply the sound of a distant door slamming brought their attention back to the fact that they were snooping in Gene's office and they dropped to the floor to prevent being spotted. Slowly slithering like snakes across the floor, the two of them began to open the door just the tiniest crack and peered through to see a flushed and frantic Kim throw her jacket onto a desk and park her bottom on top of it. They watched in silence as she picked up the phone and dialled a number. An anxious glance passed between them.
"It's me" they heard Kim's voice, low and shaky, "I've changed my mind." There was a pause as she listened to the voice on the line. "No, I'm not doing it. I've left the stuff outside your office, I want no part in this."
"In what?" Malcolm whispered, earning him a clonk on the head from an annoyed Susannah.
"Shhhhh!"
"I know what I said," Kim's voice grew edgy, "but things have changed. There's someone else here now… I think he knows how I can get home." A long pause followed. "Well you've not done anything so far! I've been busting a gut to give you what you asked and you've given me nothing in return! You've been stringing me along all this time, and tried to turn me into some kind of traitor. Well listen, I know they're not a bunch of saints… Hunt's from the dark ages and Malcolm's suit is accountable for ninety-five percent of sick days in CID…"
Malcolm scowled.
"Enough about the suit," he mouthed.
"…but they've been OK. They don't deserve this. I'm not doing it." She paused for a long time. "Enough - I'm sick of your talk. You don't want to help me. Find another lackey to do your dirty work."
With that she slammed down the receiver and sprung to her feet, running her hands through her cropped hair as though trying to relieve the anger and tension that had built up within her. She paced up and down for a moment before grabbing her jacket, checking she has her cigarettes in the pocket and leaving the office again.
When they were absolutely certain the coast was clear, Malcolm and Susannah opened the door properly and tiptoed out from their secret investigation. For a while, neither knew what to say. Eons passed as they stared at each other, full of words they couldn't bring themselves to express. After a long time, Susannah spoke up quietly.
"So Kim's got a secret," she whispered.
"Sounds like a bigger one than we realised," Malcolm added quietly.
Susannah bit her lip and took a deep breath.
"If she's doing anything to put the department in jeopardy we need to find out about it."
"Yeah, but how?"
"Maybe we should follow her?"
Malcolm closed his eyes.
"Oh, no," he groaned, "I'm not very good at that."
"Mal, we're detectives!" cried Susannah, "that's what we do!"
"Badly, in my case," Malcolm commented.
Susannah peered out of the window. She could see Kim marching across the car park, looking like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.
"Well we can't do nothing," said Susannah, "come on."
She grabbed her coat and took Malcolm by the sleeve, pulling him toward the door. Suddenly she began to feel as though a spell had been broken, like she'd been hypnotised for years and the trance was starting to lift. All traces of hangover were forgotten as they set off in pursuit of Kim, and with her the truth behind the phone call and strange paperwork. The thought of taking that step shook them both to the core; each knowing that whatever they were about to find would be bigger than they had been able to picture so far, but equally both knowing it had to be done.
It was time to take the lid off the world that had started to feel like a dream, no matter how daunting the truth.
~~xxXxx~~
One year ago today I took a fateful walk to buy some fish and chips. During the walk there, the time waiting for the food and the walk back I divised the whole of the first chapter of my first A2A fic, Out of the Window, which was supposed to be a one-shot but I couldn't leave it alone. So that means one year ago tomorrow I conquered years of writers' block. Hoorah! I will be recreating the walk tonight to celebrate!
Incidentally, should I be worried that I was served in a shop this afternoon who's name badge said 'Shaz' and my daughter has spent the afternoon drawing stars?