Chapter Twenty Six: 2011

Kim's fear level had been set to high the whole time Alex and Robin had been away. She wasn't even sure what she was afraid of, if she was honest. She knew Keats was long gone. There was no chance of him sneaking up behind the car and climbing surreptitiously into the back seat. But just being in the presence of that evilness, just being close to the place he'd lived, it filled her with a cold, dark dread.

She caught sight of two figures heading towards the car; one running with speed and determination; the other limping and lolloping, while looking fairly pissed off. Both reached the car and began to climb inside.

"Did you find anything?" she asked nervously.

"In a way," said Alex.

"I lost my shoe," said Robin.

Kim looked at him a little blankly.

"Uh," she swallowed, "OK."

"Kim, we found something ee weren't expecting," Alex began quietly, "there's a link between Keats and Layton."

"Layton shot Alex in two thousand and eight," Robin explained, "he was the one who sent Alex to Gene's world in the first place.

"What?" the connection shocked Kim as much as it had Alex and Robin.

"We don't understand what's connecting the two yet," Robin continued, "we've brought the files with us."

Kim nodded slowly.

"I'll drive you back home," she said, "but listen, we need to work out what to do next. I'm supposed to be at work in," she checked the clock on the dashboard, "just over an hour from now."

Alex bit her lip.

"Are you going?" she asked.

"I don't know," Kim said quietly, "if I go I might be able to stall things, if I call in sick they might get suspicious. We don't know if anyone heard Robin asking about his police dogs yesterday. John wouldn't have seen the news but some of the customers might have done."

Alex wasn't sure what to say. She hesitated for a moment

"Go to work, Kim," she said, "and we'll look through this as fast as we can."

"I'm worried about leaving you alone," Kim admitted.

"We won't trash the place," said Robin.

"That wasn't what I meant," said Kim,

"I know," Robin said sadly.

A silence descended as Kim started the car and began to drive away. No one spoke for the first few minutes, and when someone finally did speak it wasn't on a subject anyone had been expecting. From her place in the passenger seat, a tired and sombre Alex began,

"Kim?"

Kim glanced at her.

"Yeah?"

Alex bit her lip. It sounded silly in the scale of the situation bt there was one thing she needed to now.

"I do make it home in time for Christmas?" she asked, "Don't I?"

Kim glanced at her, surprised by the question. For someone in such a terrible situation it was such a genuine and human thing to worry about. Her heart melted a little. She looked at the anxious look on Alex's face and gave a distant smile.

"Yes, Alex," she said quietly, "you do make it home for Christmas.

Alex developed a little smile. It was strange, she thought but the idea of Gene being alone for Christmas truly made her heart ache. Knowing that she at least made it home for the festive season gave her a little hope. She sighed deeply.

"Thank you, Kim," she whispered.

Kim hesitated.

"Of course," she said, "you might not be feeling that pleased about it when the time comes."

Alex frowned.

"W-what do you mean?" she asked.

Kim glanced over her shoulder, her mind on the road ahead.

"Oh, you know," she shrugged, "there is that…. Projectile vomiting incident."

Alex felt her stomach drop.

"The what?"

"And all that trouble with Gene and the clams."

Alex swallowed.

"I… presume the alleged clams have something to do with the projectile vomiting incident?" she asked nervously.

Kim sighed.

"You would think so…"

Alex audibly gulped this time.

"I don't think I want to know about this," she said awkwardly.

"Oh, no, no," Kim realised she was probably scaremongering, "there were some good parts…" she dropped her voice slightly, "some good parts… not that many…"

Alex scowled.

"Kim…"

"I mean, if you discount Simon's attempt at buying decent Christmas presents…"

"Kim…"

"…and the… whole… queen's speech drinking game thing…"

"KIM!"

"…then there were some parts that you'll enjoy,."

"I think we should stop talking about this now…"

"And Simon forgives Gene eventually…"

Alex's eyes opened wide.

"Why? What does he do?"

Kim bit her lip and glanced around.

"I've probably said too much…" she realised.

Alex gave a slight sigh, aghast.

"You think so?" she cried.

Robin looked at Kim nervously.

"Does Simon cope OK?" he asked.

Kim looked around for a second. The look on his face almost broke her heart.

"We all looked after him," she whispered, "well… Gene didn't, but…"

Alex thrust her hands into her hair.

"Oh, for pity's sake, Kim, what does Gene do?"

"To be fair, after Simon made Gene do that whole… stupid cookery thing…"

Alex slapped her head.

"I take it this is where those clams come in, yes?"

"Uh…"

Alex sighed.

"On second thoughts," Alex sighed, "maybe we should just leave this subject well enough alone."

Kim looked a little sheepish

"Sorry, Alex," she said quietly.

As silence descended again, Robin turned his attention to his foot. There was a small hole forming in the end of his sock, which – incidentally – he'd been wearing for three days straight.

"My poor shoe," he sighed.

Alex glanced behind her.

"Well, at least you've not been wearing red slippers since Wednesday," she said with a half-smile.

"You sound like you've stepped right out the Wizard of Oz," Robin commented.

"Think yourself lucky Gene isn't here," said Alex he'd be first off the mark with the 'friend of Dorothy' jokes."

"Well your hair looked a bit like a scarecrow when you fell out of bed this morning," Robin teased.

"Don't be so bloody cheeky!" Alex tried not to smile but inside her relief at Robin lightening the tone was strong. She knew the journey back to Kim's was a brief interlude from the darkness. "Alright then, so if I'm the scarecrow who are you?"

Robin hesitated. He'd extended his knowledge of The Wizard of Oz as far as it went with the ruby slippers and the scarecrow.

"Who is there left again?"

"A tin man and a cowardly lion."

Robin thought about it for a moment.

"which one's better at cooking?"

"The tin man has a funnel on his head," Alex told him.

Robin nodded.

"I'll be him then," he said.

The rest of the journey passed quickly and quietly and they arrived back at Kim's with their loot from Keats's flat, then shuffled through the front door and into the lounge where they dropped their papers and files on the floor. Kim stepped back a little and ran her fingers through her hair.

"Listen," she said quietly, "I've got to go and get ready for work. Will you be OK?"

"Of course," Alex smiled a little awkwardly. She began to feel guilty about invading Kim's life once again.

For the next half an hour they made coffee, shuffled papers, skirted around the issue a little nervously. Both were acutely aware how much importance lay in those files but neither quite felt ready to tackle them yet. When Kim appeared, ready for work, they both knew the moment couldn't be postponed for much longer.

"Listen," she said quietly, "keep the curtains drawn. Keep the doors locked. Don't answer the phone or go to the door. There's enough food in the kitchen for lunch and Alex, make sure you wash and moisturise your tattoo again this afternoon."

"You're sounding like my mother again," Alex said with a little smile.

Kim swallowed. Tears came surprisingly to her eyes and she tried to bite them back.

"I'll be home at six," she whispered, "but, in case… for whatever reason… the two of you aren't here when I get back…" she found her voice failing now and the tears attempting to make a break for it and roll down her cheek. She closed her eyelids tightly shut and decided to show instead of say what she meant, enveloping Alex in a hug which held so much warmth and friendship that Alex felt uplifted and loved. She might have been a long way from home but she still had friendship on her side. That, she knew, was the thing that would get her through.

"Thank you, Kim," she breathed.

As Kim finally let go of Alex and drew away she looked at Robin and gave him a strained smile.

"And as for you," she began.

"Uh oh, that doesn't sound good," Robin commented.

Kim took a deep breath.

"I used to think of Simon like a big brother" she said, "now… now I think I've gained a little brother too."

Robin smiled back. Her words were warm and comforting.

"Thanks," he whispered.

Kim hesitated for a moment. One last glimpse of them both. One last look at the strange and wonderful pair, then she turned and left before the tears became impossible to fight.

Robin and Alex stared at each other for a moment. They knew the time had come and there could be no turning back now. The files sat in the idle of the floor, ready and waiting to be read and absorbed. Ready and waiting to share the secrets they held within.

With a deep breath, Alex glanced towards them and gave a sombre nod.

"It's time," she whispered.

Slowly, nervously, they walked towards the pile and began to examine every single sheet of paper with a fine tooth comb. Whatever secrets lay within were about to be unequivocally released, and they both hoped and prayed they would lead unlocking the door to 1995. Whatever connected Layton to Keats was about to be thrown open. The truth would be as clear and obvious as the scar on her head, but whether they were ready to find out or not was another matter entirely.

~xXx~

Evan sat at the kitchen table as the sky changed from black to blue. The small kitchen television still played away, but the news never changed. How many hours of sleep had be garnered in the last forty-eight? Three? Four? He could already hear Molly's footsteps shuffling down the staircase and knew that her own night's sleep wouldn't have been on the good side either. He rubbed his eyes and stood up with a sigh as he watched her enter the kitchen.

"Morning, Scrap," he said, a thin, strained smile upon his face.

"Have they found her?"

It was the first thing Molly asked. The only thing she ever asked now. He hung his head.

"No, Molly," he said quietly, "not yet." He turned around and pretended to busy himself making breakfast. He couldn't even meet her eyes now. Although the reason behind Alex's disappearance was still somewhat unconfirmed he had a dark sense of foreboding that something connected to his past was at least in part behind it. Was there some way she'd found out about his instrumental part in her shooting? Or her parents' death? How could she have known? And yet those feelings of guilt wouldn't go away.

"What do you want for breakfast?" he asked half-heartedly but as he turned around he saw that Molly had already gone. There were footsteps, a slamming of her bedroom door and a few moments later loud music blaring out to block out her tears. He flinched and closed his eyes. How much more could one girl take?

The sound of the phone ringing disturbed his thoughts and he snatched up the receiver.

"Hello?" he said anxiously, hoping for news, but the line was quiet, "Hello?" there was a click, and then a voice.

"I've been watching the news."

Evan felt his heart jump a little.

"Who's there?" he asked, "do you have any information?"

There was a pause on the line.

"I've got information, alright."

Evan froze. That voice was familiar. He hadn't recognised it at first but his memory began to spark now.

"Who is this?" he whispered.

"I thought you'd have remembered me," the voice said darkly, "especially after what happened the last time you ignored me."

Evan closed his eyes. A lump rose into his throat that he just couldn't swallow away.

"Layton," he hissed.

"So, she's awake is she?" Layton's sneer was mocking and spiteful, "and walking. Or wandering off, so I hear."

Evan clenched his jaw.

"Get off my fucking phone," he hissed.

"You sure you want me to do that?" asked Layton, "only, the last time you didn't want to listen to me someone close to you ended up with a bullet in their head."

Evan swallowed.

"What do you want?"

"What you still owe me," Layton hissed, "With interest. The recession's still biting, you know."

"You have nothing to bribe me with," Evan tried to sound defiant but his voice wobbled like a coward's, "Alex is missing. If I don't know where she is then you'll never find her."

"I don't have to," Layton hold him, "national news seems pretty interested in the story. I'm sure they'd like to hear a bit of family background."

Evan felt his breath escape in a gasp.

"You wouldn't."

"Do you want to risk calling my bluff?" Layton asked, "like last time?"

Evan swallowed as his legs went from under him and he stumbled to the floor. Phone held shakily to his ear, he whispered.

"I don't have the kind of money you're asking for."

"Then you've got until the end of tomorrow to find it," Layton told him, "I'll be in touch with instructions. Until then, you'd better hope the police find Alex before I do."

"You wouldn't dare," Evan whispered, "you'd have to come out of hiding – you'd never take that risk."

"You're still trying to call my bluff?" Layton gave a bitter laugh, "that worked out well for you last time, didn't it, Evan? You were so pleased with your decision." There was a pause and a laugh. "I'm happy, hope you're happy too…"

"Fuck off!" Evan cried. He ended the call and threw the phone across the floor where it skipped and skidded like a stone on a pond. He laid his head in his hands and began to give a jagged, tearless sob. His body was wracked with nerves and his mind wracked with gilt. He didn't have the funds Layton needed, and he didn't know where to find them. The news reports of Evan as the silver-tinged hero who had taken in Alex as a child and done the same for her own daughter during her coma was about to become tarnished and the television screen would be showing a very different side to the Alex story

"…And the headlines again this morning, Police are asking tattooists in the London area to come forward with any information they have about missing Police Inspector Robin Thomas who yesterday showed a display of reduced mental capacity, attempting to have the dogs in his canine unit tattooed…"

The TV played away in the background as Evan breathed raggedly, in and out. His head felt as though it might explode with anxiety and pressure as he tried to work out where to go or what to do. He couldn't think straight, couldn't even begin to make some semblance of sense out of his thoughts.

"…. A search of a flat previously owned by Mr Thomas's deceased partner revealed evidence that both he and the missing Detective Inspector, Alex Drake, had been staying at the property."

Evan's feelings of guilt increased as footage of Molly, shot the previous evening, played on the screen.

"Mum, please call us," her tearful voice played out, "you're not in any trouble… we just want you home…"

He got to his feet slowly and tried to pull his head together. He had to find something – some way – to resolve the situation without losing Alex and Molly, whatever it took. He'd kept the secret this long – there had to be a way. He strode toward the TV set.

"…That was Molly Drake, the daughter of missing Detective Inspector Alex Drake, talking last night," the newsreader said sombrely, "And in other news, this morning police have announced a major breakthrough in the war against the city's leading drug barons after an arrest that occurred when an ambulance was called to –"

He flicked the television off and closed his eyes. The air in the room felt heavy and laden. Or was that just his conscience? Either way, he felt as though his world was crumbling with him trapped right in the centre.