(Back at the office. Rachel excuses herself and let Robin know she would be back down to Sex Crimes after checking in with her team. She took a few minutes to herself to get her head together. She did her breathing exercise and unfortunately couldn't help but bite her finger until it bled. She was grateful that she had a therapist appointment the next day and that she had the weekend off with Charlotte. Her daughter kept her busy, happy and distracted. So, she wouldn't be able to dwell in her failure to squash her flashback and her inevitably fucking up with Robin. If she was honest she knew it was coming, she just wasn't expecting it this soon. She'd thought she'd at least get a shag out of him. Maybe he'll be angry enough later to fuck her goodbye. He said he needed to 'feel' something for someone in order to have sex, he never said it had to be a good something. She'd settle for that.)
Anna: (knocks on the open door) Boss? (Rachel looks up from her newly bandaged finger.) It's Europol.
Rachel: Thank you Anna. (Anna smiles and then exits. She forwards the call and Rachel closes her eyes, taking a few deep breaths, then answers.) Ciao, stai parlando con l'ispettore capo del detective, Rachel Bailey.
Woman: Ciao il mio nome e Catherine de Bolle. Sono il Direttore Generale della Pubblica Sicurezza. Stai bene?
Rachel: Per favore parla lentamente. Sto imparando.
Woman = Catherine: Oh, do you prefer English?
Rachel: (relieved) Please, if you don't mind.
Catherine:(pleasantly) Your accent is so good and you speak with confidence. I thought you may be a native speaker.
Rachel: Thank you. (For the first time since returning to the office she smiles. Rachel studied Italian at home, with DVDs and on an app on her phone. She wasn't into mindlessly crushing candy.)
Catherine: I am calling to officially inform you that Europol appreciates the hard work of your team to discover the identity of our national citizen.
Rachel: People are people and justice is justice.
Catherine: Well put Detective. I'm sure you saw the order that your coroner will release the body to our government. (Rachel makes a few clicks pulling up the email. She quickly scans it. Noticing the mention of the virus.) Due to the sensitive nature we're keeping this very quiet. We need to avoid any involvement with the press-To prevent widespread panic.
Rachel: Understood. It sounds like your country is taking jurisdiction.
Catherine: yes. We'll be conducting a virtual meeting Saturday morning. ( "Of course!" Rachel thinks to herself. It was meant to be a weekend off.) The meeting will include-your Chief Superintendent, your Police Chief Commissioner and their assistant. A member of the Italian embassy, you and myself. We'll need all the intelligence gathered by your team and we'll expect a briefing on the progress that was made on the case.
Rachel: Very little I'm afraid. The red tape was wrapped rather tightly.
Catherine: On Saturday we'll discuss how to safely and securely ship all evidence without chance of loss, contamination and damages.
Rachel: Wouldn't your department come in for-
Catherine: Under the direction of the WHO travel of any Italian citizen is discouraged and is soon to be fully restricted until our government is able to contain this outbreak.
Rachel: (nods thinking this sounds a bit extreme. The NHS so far have only instructed British residents to wash their hands more frequently.) I understand. I will gather the intelligence and be ready for you tomorrow.
Catherine: Excellent. It was very good speaking with you, detective.
Rachel: You as well.
Catherine: Keep practising your Italian. You've got a talent for language.
Rachel: Thank you. I will keep trying my best. Good day.
Catherine: Ciao. (The call ends.)
(Imbued with a momentary confidence, Rachel, after giving instruction to her team, heads to the Sex Crimes office. She wasn't going to think about the impending end of her and Robin. She, Rachel Bailey, from a broken little home in Ashton, the girl who lived punishment to punishment and was made to sleep on the cold hard floor, was now an Internationally liaising Detective Chief Inspector of Manchester Metropolitan Police Major Incident Team. She spoke limited Italian and had a beautiful child to cuddle up to most nights. In her darkest hours, she may have never dreamed her life could be this good. No matter what Robin decided about him and her.)
Rachel:(smiles, presenting herself in his office.) I'm here to view pornography. (Robin's eyes widen and she does her best to reign in her smile. She didn't need to be a dick about her indifference to his decision.)
Robin: Right Emmie. Grandad's got to hang up now.
Emma: (on speaker-phone, tiny voice) Ok Grandad. Love you.
Robin: Love you too Darling. (Rachel bites her plaster and makes a 'yikes' face.)
Rachel: l'm sorry.
Robin:(sighs, points) My Sergeant can show you to the evidence room.
Rachel: Right. Sorry. (He was clearly unamused by her. She should probably consider cupcakes out of the question. She exits Robin's office and goes in search of his Sergeant. Maybe she'd phone Natalie, her lesbi-aison, and make alternate birthday plans.)
(In an interview room, set up with a box of photos, sitting across from Robin's sergeant. Rachel sips her tea as she thumbs through disturbing images of children in different States of undress, some touching themselves sexually. Their eyes all haunted and lost.)
Rachel: I thought he said there were boys as well.
Sergeant: Yes. Significantly less than girls. We were able to identify all of the boys but 5. All we've got here are the few that still remain unidentified. We ran the images through facial recognition software. Most of the men were in the system. Some sadly, but as expected, became abusers themselves. And the rest, petty theft, drunk and disorderlies, drug charges, a few domestics. So, this is just what's left.
Rachel: Sad. (She flips through the photos. They're separated by victims. Since these were only the few that remained unidentified she knew she wouldn't see Abbi or Cammi's daughter's photos which were a relief. After several quiet minutes, she opens a folder and sees a face she never expected to see. She covers her mouth.) Oh no.
Sergeant: You know this girl? (Rachel looks to him, but doesn't respond. She quickly thumbs through the images. There were four. They were of Elise Scott, Janet's oldest daughter as a very young teen, right before she started dying her hair blonde. Rachel flips over the photo and sees a scribble of handwriting, like the other victims, the photos are dated. 2011. It was the same time that Rachel, in her temporary homelessness, was staying with the Scotts, after she lost her baby and Nick put her out. Rachel looks at Elise's eyes, sad and scared. Rachel is distressed by the revelation and then flips the photo over again, looking closer she realizes she remembers this day exactly. It was the very next day after her baby died and was induced to labor. It was her second official night at the Scott's home. She remembers it very clearly because of how recent her trauma was. She was still bleeding quite heavily and had it in the back of her mind how she really didn't want to stain any of Janet's sheets. After climbing stairs, walking extensively, and basically doing everything the doctors told her to avoid for at least 72hrs, she and Janet arrived at the house. When they got in, Rachel was exhausted. She almost immediately occupied the washroom. She showered, feeling filthy and disgusting from the heavy flow, the blood mixing with water and dripping down her leg, reminded her of what she lost and she cried in the shower, causing her to be in there for a little longer than she would normally have been. She then went straight to her room and poured herself into Janet's cold case files, hoping the murders would help her avoid thinking of her current state of destitution. She lost two lives, not just her baby and all the possibilities of who he could have been, but her own life, the life she spent the last few years building in the imaginary world that Nick had forged for her. She lost the version of her that belonged in posh flats and high class restaurants, the Rachel Bailey that was to be the wife of a barrister. The Rachel who was loved by him, and who loved him. She was an Icarus and her fall was soul crushing. She cried a little, alone in the room with the files, partly because her hormones were still out of whack but also because reality struck her so hard. This is the Rachel Bailey she always feared she was, the one who came from nothing, had nothing, and no one and got stored away in a spare room with boxes and bin bags. "Trashy and Irrelevant" like the old dolls that were in a storage container in the corner of that room. She only took herself out of her mope, when she heard commotion in the seemingly paradisiacal land of Scotts. What did Scotts have to fight about? When she came out of the room, she found Janet standing at the door of the washroom. Elise was having a tantrum and had locked herself inside. Rachel remembers Elise shouting through the door that she hated her mum and "him". She assumed, at the time, Elise meant Ade. Now, knowing the poor little thing had been violated earlier that day, Rachel couldn't be too sure.) DCI Bailey? (Rachel remembers lying to Elise that she needed the loo, which she responded "No you don't." Because after all the time she had spent in there, it wasn't believable. She insisted and that got Elise to come out and apologize to her.) DCI Bailey?
Rachel: (she wanted to lie. She wanted to protect Elise, she wanted to speak to her or Janet first before she linked the Scotts in another scandal. She knew she couldn't lie. Obstruction of Justice. She sighs.) Yes?
Sergeant: Do you recognize this girl?
Rachel: I do. Unfortunately. (He slides a form over to her, to fill out any information she has. She clicks her pen.) I need to speak to DCI Luther.
Sergeant: Ok.
Rachel: What did Frank Alderman do? For work I mean.
Sergeant: He was janitorial. He took jobs, moving from school to school.
Rachel: Right. (She stands and the sergeant does as well.) I just need to speak with DCI-
Sergeant: I'll bring him to you. (He nudges the form closer to her and then exits. Poor Elise. She was always the tamer of the Scott Sisters. Her tantrum was out of character. Rachel wonders why none of the adults in the house, including herself, was more suspicious of the outburst. It was so easily dismissed as teen angst. Rachel tries to forgive herself some, she didn't know Elise very well then. It was only over the month and half living with them that she really learned the dynamics of their fragile family. Clearly her tantrum, her drastic changes to her look, dying her hair, were all cries for help. They were all classic signs. How did a good girl like her get mixed up with a lowlife like Alderman? Was it for the same reason Abbi had? She needed to know Elise was ok but how could she even approach the subject? They rarely spoke since she went to live in France. Robin enters the room.)
Robin: I heard you recognize someone. (He finally smiles at her. She's too distraught about Elise to enjoy it. Robin really did like her and he loved her determination to help, her commitment to crime solving but he couldn't completely overlook his new information on her.)
Rachel: I need you to conceal the identity of this victim at all cost.
Robin: I know what happened with your case may make you feel like there is a breach of security and confidentiality but I can assure you, that is not how I run my syndicate.
Rachel: No, that's not why. I trust you.
Robin: (sighs, could he trust her?) Why is this particular victim of interest? (He sits down beside her and observes the file she's holding. He was prepared to hear her out.)
(Late that night. Rachel sits up in bed with a small reading lamp and reading glasses. She found out last year that she needed glasses for reading probably because of all these years working on computer screens and squinting at evidence photos. The autopsy report of her 'dead italian' shows positive for COVID-19, the virus that's ravishing Italy. Scary Mary sent out an email, everyone who came in contact with the body may need to self quarantine to prevent an epidemic type outbreak here in England. They were still waiting on word from the higher-ups and apparently the WHO was being consulted. All Rachel wanted to do was find the killer. She needed to feel she made some sort of progress before the meeting tomorrow morning. If she was going to be forced into quarantine, which in her mind meant another suspension, it might be her last taste of fulfillment in awhile. Beside her lay the sleeping Charlotte with two books, one her chest and one on the blanket falling in the small space between their bodies. She couldn't decide on which story she wanted for bed time and Rachel was happy to read both. Rachel bites at the skin on her thumb.)
Charlotte: Is that a grown-up story? (Rachel's eyes move from the picture of the dead man's body to her daughter's pillow, however, in quick toddler timing, Charlotte has rolled over to face her and has squeezed her way under her mother's arm. Rachel is slow to react, closing the folder.) Oh, he's murdered. You can tell how dead he is because of all the blood. (Rachel closes her tired eyes and shoves the folder over to her bedside table. She cuddles Charlotte's body closer to her and then looks down at her daughter's smiling face, unshaded by the gruesome image.)
Rachel: Yes darling, he is. (She twirls a finger in her child's natural curls.) I thought you were asleep.
Charlotte: I was.
Rachel: Did you have a bad dream?
Charlotte: I don't know.
Rachel: (smirks) What do you mean you don't know?
Charlotte: There was a giant, but he was a nice giant.
Rachel: That's good.
Charlotte: And he shared his birthday cake with me.
Rachel: Nice.
Charlotte: But it was very big and the cake fell on my whole body. (Rachel laughs)
Rachel: Death by chocolate.
Charlotte: How did you know it was chocolate?
Rachel: Well I was there, at the party. Didn't you see me?
Charlotte: (wrinkles her nose and squeezes her mother in a hug-vice.) No you weren't.
Rachel: I was. Maybe you left the dream too early. (Charlotte laughs.) So, I reckon, you should go back to sleep and see if I'm still there. I can help you eat the cake.
Charlotte: No, but I think I died.
Rachel: That's a bugger.
Charlotte: It is a bugger. (Rachel kisses her daughter's head and then takes off her glasses. She turns off the dim reading light and then lays down draping an arm around Charlotte.)
Rachel: Alright, lets go to a different dream together. We'll both close our eyes. (Rachel waits and Charlotte closes her eyes, Rachel then closes hers.) Ok, so, we're on a nice beach, and there's loads of sand everywhere.
Charlotte: Can we have a picnic?
Rachel: Yeah. Don't you see the basket? It's full of sandwiches.
Charlotte: There are 15 hundred. Million. (Charlotte giggles at the absurd number)
Rachel: Well, good. We solved world hunger.
Charlotte: And Aunt Gill is there.
Rachel: Sure. If you like. I don't see her.
Charlotte: She's wearing a swim costume.
Rachel: God. (She can see this dream going awry) Ok. Oh, she just said she's going to buy ice cream at the top of the pier. Bye Aunt Gill.
Charlotte: No she's not. She's staying here because she made the sandwiches.
Rachel: I did.
Charlotte: No, but, hers are nicer.
Rachel: Oiy. (Tickles Charlotte who laughs, eyes open, wiggling in the blankets.) Mummy makes good sandwiches.
Charlotte: Yeah but Aunt Gill's are nicer.
Rachel: Fine. (Looks through the dark at her beautiful girl. She wanted her to have the best of everything and if Gill's sandwiches were better than hers, then she wasn't going to insist. Rachel wasn't a great cook. She didn't eat many hot meals growing up and no one had the time to teach her. Then when she was out on her own, there was the magic of takeaways and the never failing bowl of wheatabix with a glass of wine.)
Charlotte: Are you going to get the bad guy who killed that man?
Rachel: Don't think about that, love.
Charlotte: There are a lot of bad guys. Because you work a lot.
Rachel: Yes, but we catch most of them.
Charlotte: Most?
Rachel: Don't worry Charlie. You're safe with Mummy. No bad guys will get you. (She thinks of the image of poor Elise. She thinks of Jenna Mawson "Have you made that promise before? Have you always managed to keep it?" Rachel hugs her daughter closer.)
Charlotte: It's good you have a sidekick now.
Rachel: You can't be my sidekick. You're too little.
Charlotte: No, not me!
Rachel: Besides, you're too brainy to be a police officer. You're going to be a scientist or something and make lots of money.
Charlotte: A mad scientist?
Rachel: And you'll have a big house, so that when Mummy is old and senile, I can come live with you.
Charlotte: (squeezes her mother back, laying her head on Rachel's chest) That sounds perfect.
Rachel: (kisses her head again) Good. I'll remind you of that when you're 14.
Charlotte: What's senile?
Rachel: Doesn't matter. We need to rest, love.
Charlotte: But I am not your sidekick.
Rachel: Ok, good.
Charlotte: Robin is. Just like in Teen Titans Go.
Rachel: (laughs) Robin? (She then twists her lips to the side. She should have been more careful about letting Charlotte meet him. Now things were off balance with him and she wasn't sure he was going to be putting up with her much longer. Too many "red flags". ) Yeah well. Mummy doesn't need a sidekick.
Charlotte: Yes you do. Batman has a sidekick. (As if saying duh) Robin!
Rachel: Yeah. Anyway, I've got your Nan. She's been my sidekick, helping me catch the bad guys.
Charlotte: But can she fight them? She's old.
Rachel: (laughs) Enough of this, now. Let's go back to the beach. There were no bad guys there. (Charlotte closes her eyes.) Do you want to go in the water? (Charlotte nods.) What colour is your swim costume?
Charlotte: Can't you see it? (Rachel laughs) Yours is black.
Rachel: Ok. I see it yours now. It's all sparkles. Like Ariel when she comes out of the water.
Charlotte: YES! ( Rachel closes her eyes and snuggles into her pillow beside her. The two of them escape to their fantasy world together, a place where they're both safe and worry free.)