Hi everyone. I hope you are all well. Things have been busy so I've not had as much time to write, unfortunately, but I hope to keep on with this story and also add to the Christmas one I started last year. Meanwhile, I hope you are all well and safe and still up for reading more Robson during these awful times!
Back at the station, Hathaway parked his car and made his way quickly into the CID block. Finding out that the recent victim was directly connected to the current case had thrown the investigation into further chaos and there were more questions than answers presenting Hathaway and his boss. Leaping up the stairs two at a time and then striding into the office, Hathaway found his boss brooding in front of his computer, examining the crime scene photos taken at the Solstice Herbs health shop.
"Hi" Said his boss to Hathaway, without looking up. Hathaway took this as an apology from Lewis for his abandonment of the earlier crime scene. Hathaway had long since been able and astute enough to read what his boss was trying to communicate via a subtle form of almost non-communication. He knew that Lewis sometimes struggled with expressing his emotions but Hathaway was self-aware enough to know he was guilty of it too. Luckily, the pair of them had an unspoken and sometimes awkward acknowledgment of this shorthand and both were primed to it, especially when it was employed to deal with personal issues that might crop up during a case. This was one of those times and, along with the new turn of event just passed, Hathaway knew his boss was demonstrating that he was sorry and that he didn't want to discuss anything further.
Hathaway returned the greeting and sat down at his desk. Lewis continued, with a frown, to study what was on his screen. Behind him, the photo of him and his late wife was ever prominent. Hathaway glanced at it over Lewis' stooped shoulders. In the picture, taken, Hathaway had learned, the summer just before Val's death, Lewis had his arm around his wife, gripping her shoulder and grinning with joy while Val smiled sweetly out from the photo. Hathaway had always puzzled at how Lewis could bear to keep such a photo so close at work. Although by all accounts their marriage had been a loving and happy one, Hathaway knew that there must be a huge weight of guilt carried by Robbie that had engulfed him along with his grief, darkening his journey through the long years after Val's death. Hathaway knew all about guilt and how it worked in families, his own included. By his own engrossment in his career, Hathaway knew that Robbie must, by default, feel a huge press of guilt stemming from before Val had died, that made him wish he could turn the clock back and spend more time with her rather than at work.
Glancing down, and seeing Lewis scowling at the screen in front of him, Hathaway knew perfectly well why Lewis was out of sorts and why he had abandoned the crime scene. At the allotments, after Lewis had left, Hathaway remembered why the area seemed so familiar. It wasn't long until it came to him that Val Lewis was buried in the churchyard adjacent to the allotment plots. It had all made sense then. Hathaway felt sorry for Lewis. He wanted to help him, but there was a case on and if Lewis had communicated that he didn't want any more discussions then it was better to let sleeping dogs lie.
"I've got Gurdip on the case with the communications between Kenny Rigel and David Castor. With full details I don't think it will be long before we work out what's been going on. What are you looking at there, Sir?" and Hathaway motioned to the computer screen that had Lewis so captivated.
He stood up and went around to Lewis's desk so he could see. Lewis tilted the screen. He had been looking at the photos of the shop floor. The broken statues of various gods and animals were strewn around the floor. Lewis handed Hathaway an evidence bag, inside, from what Hathaway could see, was a docket from a shipment. He looked at the description of the contents. Plaster statuettes. "Nothing too suspicious for the type of shop, Sir"
"No, but the consignment came from Eastern Europe, Georgia to be specific" Lewis said, his eyebrows raised in slight confusion. "Stuff like this, it's more likely to come from China, don't you think? Rather than from Europe?"
"Not necessarily, sir, it could be part of a supply chain from the east. What are you thinking? Drug smuggling?"
"Well I would think that, but the sniffer dogs turned up nothing" Lewis shrugged his shoulders. Hathaway studied the pictures over Lewis's shoulder until he was interrupted by the buzz and chime of a call to his mobile which he answered. Lewis frowned and continued to pore over the pictures on his screen while Hathaway attended to the caller before hanging up.
"That was Hobson. David Castor was also poisoned but they need to do more tests. She's on a callout to the Radcliffe but she said she'll let us know as soon as anything else comes to light."
"Right" Said Robbie, resigned to the fact that he would have to wait. He knew Laura was often called to the Radcliffe to assess victims of assault. He hoped it wouldn't be too long before the results came in, however. He needed distraction and fast, but for now the case seemed to have shuddered to a halt, despite the appearance of another body which was also their person of interest.
"Right" he said again, this time through a sigh and frowning he continued "Do me a favour, will you? go and pay a visit to the shop girl, Phoebe. Maybe she's thought of something since we last took a statement"
"Sir" said Hathaway. He had been thinking the same thing himself. Lewis was right, there was something niggling him about Phoebe Morris too, but as of yet, he couldn't put his finger on what it was either.
At the Radcliffe, Laura had just finished assessing the victim she'd been called out to. It was a young man, beaten to an almost pulp and now hooked up to a life support system and placed in an induced coma. Although a necessary and important part of her job, Laura disliked assessing such victims. The dead were always easier to deal with. It wasn't Laura's job or inclination to pass judgement but when she knew that there were drugs involved and that the gossip she'd heard from the nurses was that the young man was a known dealer and had started the fight that ended up with him in such a state made it a bit easier to handle. She knew this was wrong, against her training and basic moral values that came with a job in medicine but sometimes there were too many shades between the darkness and light of crime and innocence. It was the children and the vulnerable that she sometimes had to assess that made her feel gloomy. She was in a gloomy enough mood today already, having seen Robbie still so obviously upset at Val's grave. Earlier, just before she left for her call out, she'd deliberately spoken to Hathaway and not to Robbie. It felt like a betrayal to speak to him after seeing him during such a private moment while he at Val's grave. She wondered if he might want to talk, but at the same time she didn't want to intrude while he was also on a case, so she had chosen to tell Hathaway about the extra tests she'd ordered on the recent victim. She wanted to help Robbie but she couldn't shake the private gut wrenching feeling she had felt on seeing him still mourning.
As she packed up her kit and headed down the hospital corridor back to her car, she heard a familiar voice call her name. She turned round. It was Timothy.
"Laura!" he said, his face beaming "Well this is rather a surprise" His deep and well-spoken voice was full of what genuinely seemed to be pleasant wonder at seeing her.
She smiled back, taken aback slightly by the sincere tone in his voice. "Timothy, hello, I'm here on a call out, well, I've just finished actually" she smiled at him.
"Ah, well if you're going down to the car park, I'll join you for some fresh air. I'm just taking five before my next meeting"
Laura smiled and nodded and the pair of them walked down the corridor, talking as they went.
Back in his office, Robbie was at his desk, still mulling over some of the evidence. As instructed Hathaway had departed to call in on Phoebe Morris the shop girl. Robbie knew he should have gone with his DS but the events and emotions of the morning were still weighing heavily on his mind. Under his desk he stretched his legs out as he realised he had been sitting for too long in front of his screen. He swiveled his chair and as he turned he caught sight of the photo of himself and Val. He studied the photo. Taken just a few months before she died it was one that he cherished most and that always hurt him the most too. He had, in the past, had always felt a myriad of emotions when looking at the picture, but today, he felt as wretched as he had ever done since the photo had been in his office. Scowling at his inner thoughts he turned back to his desk and logged off from his computer. The case wasn't going anywhere and with Hathaway on the trail, Lewis left his desk early.
He needed to go home for some privacy. There was someone he needed to speak to.
In the car park of the Radcliffe, Laura, still accompanied by Timothy reached into her jacket pocket for her car keys as they neared her car. They had been discussing some recent research that could prove pivotal to a research grant that Laura was hoping to secure. Laura was pleased. Timothy always gave her fresh insights for her particular area of interest and today had been no different. In the short time since walking from the wards to the car park Laura had already amassed a cache of new ideas for her grant application. She had a while to present it to the funding board but each time she saw Timothy she seemed to add more ammunition to her quest. She was always glad to talk to him for that reason alone. As they reached her car, they both came to a stop.
"Thanks, Timothy" Laura said, her gratitude was genuine and as such she smiled.
"Please, it's Tim, I've told you before, no need for formalities" He leant his head a little towards her and looked her directly in the eye. Laura looked back, noting how he looked directly at her. She thought about when he'd kissed her after a drink and she realised he was sending some sort of signal, either consciously or subconsciously that her was thinking of the moment too.
"Yes, of course. Tim" she said and smiled back at him before she reached for the car door. As she put her hand on the door handle, He placed his hand on her arm.
"I was just thinking, we can't make dinner this week, but perhaps you'll let me accompany you to the function on Friday?"
Laura was taken aback. She attended the dinner each year and had, through the years, risen up through the tables and now found herself on the top one, along with other notable luminaries of the Oxford academic pathology community. She often had to give speeches and hand over awards, after receiving a few herself for services to the profession. This year she was going alone. Again. As a professional she didn't care, she was always independent with her work and she loved it, but each year passed by and she sometimes wished she was going with a partner on her arm, like many of her colleagues did. Even her young students seemed to turn up with beaus each year. Her thoughts flitted to Robbie.
Forget him, as painful as it is a voice in her head said.
Think of your own situation, think of yourself, don't deny yourself happiness.
Laura Hobson had strong self-esteem and she knew how to look after herself. Despite this she had allowed her emotions to overtake her head when it came to how she felt about Robbie. Earlier at the crime scene, seeing Robbie at Val's grave, had thrown a clarity onto the situation. It had been obvious, painfully so: there would never be – could never be anything between her and Robbie.
The irons of love she held for Robbie in her heart suddenly became red hot with the heat of self-preservation and in the clarity of the moment she struck out.
"Yes" She said to Timothy "I'd like that very much"