"She was up there naked as the day she was born, dancing around like this," the old woman demonstrated by waving her arms over her head and twirling around. "Then she stepped up on the little wall at the edge still dancing and twirling. I don't know if she lost her balance, or if she did it on purpose, but then she fell backwards. I can't get that picture out of my mind."
"Did you know her?" Lizzie asked.
"Don't know her name, but I've seen her around the neighborhood. It was the strangest thing, her dancing around up there. Reminded me of Bathsheba in the Bible, bathing on the roof."
Robbie and James had just arrived at the scene, when Lizzie waved them over to hear a witness account. Mrs. Dorothy Barnett had seen the incident from her kitchen window in one of the upper flats across the street. In this busy little neighborhood near Iffley, buildings held businesses and shops on the street level and flats on the upper stories.
"Thank you, Mrs. Barnett," James said. "Please give your contact information to Sergeant Maddox."
The men crossed the street and found Laura Hobson behind the canvas screens that blocked the scene from the view of passersby.
The body of the red-headed young woman was sprawled like a rag doll, a pool of blood under her head, matting her hair. Her skin was pale, her frame slight, almost to the point of skinny. The soles of her feet were dirty. Her face was pretty in an elfin way.
She reminded him of a girl he'd met years ago. Nell, he thought. Not James' sister, but another Nell. Bright and pretty and vivacious, she gave tours of an Oxford that existed only in her imagination. Another lovely girl who died too young.
The chilly wind cut through the wool of his coat. The weather had been unseasonably cold, even for early March, with everyone bundled up. Why would this woman be out of doors dancing around naked?
"What do we have here, pet?" Robbie asked. Laura gave him a look that said he'd crossed a line but she'd let him live. To be honest, the "pet" escaped his lips by force of habit. He managed for the most part to keep their personal and professional lives separate, but the lines did blur occasionally.
"Multiple injuries, all of them catastrophic, chief among them a skull fractured like an egg shell. I'll be able to tell you more after the post-mortem."
"According to a witness account, she was dancing on the roof, in the nude and then simply slipped off the edge," James said. "Once we identify her, we need to find out if there is a history of mental illness."
James had dropped into a crouch and studied the body. He rose and flagged the SOCO who had been taking pictures. "Get a photograph of her face and email it to me. Thank you," he said when the officer stepped in to do exactly that.
"We had a case a few years ago, didn't we, where a young man was drugged and jumped off a roof. Could she have been drugged?" Robbie asked.
"Certainly possible, but it can't be a drug with a sedative effect, or she wouldn't have been observed moving freely," Laura replied. "As I recall, in your previous case, the victim had been given a huge dose of LSD. In fact, if it hadn't been such a massive dose, we might not have found it. I'll mark the tox screen to specifically look for LSD."
"What time should we come by?" Robbie asked.
"Come around 6:00."
"I want to see the roof," James said. They climbed the three flights of stairs and then exited through a doorway onto the roof. Several SOCOs in white coveralls were already there, taking pictures and dusting for fingerprints. A paper-bootied Lizzie met them at the door, having finished up with the witness. She handed them covers for their shoes.
"Her clothes are here and there," Lizzie said, pointing. Indeed, there was a wool jacket and boots deposited just beyond the doorway from the stairs, Jeans and underwear cast off along the rooftop and a bra and sweater near the low barrier wall at the edge of the building, "It's like she was stripping off as she walked around up here. You can see her bare footprints in the dust where she must have been dancing."
"One set of footprints," James said. "Looks like she was up here alone."
""There was one more thing found, sir," Lizzie said. She brought over a paper coffee cup in a plastic evidence bag. Cafe Noir was printed in black letters around the middle. "This was dropped near the coat and boots. Smells like hazelnut coffee inside the cup. There's an inch or so left which was slightly warm when SOCO found it."
"Show that to Dr. Hobson," James said. "She may want special handling on tests for the coffee in the cup. Is there a Cafe Noir near here?"
"There's one on the Scythe Road," she replied. "Not far at all."
Lizzie left to talk to Laura while James and Robbie went to speak to the building manager. They described the young woman to him. His brows drew together in a frown as he thought.
"I was afraid it was someone from this building," he said. "I think it might be Lucy Phillips in 2C. She's the only young woman with red hair in the building."
"I'd like you to look at this picture. I must warn you that it is a portmortem photograph. Is this Lucy Phillips?" James asked, holding his phone so the man could see the photo.
"Oh, God, yeah. That's her."
"Does she have family nearby?"
"I don't know her all that well, actually. She tends bar over at the Black Dog on Crown Street. Someone there might know her better."
James and Robbie walked the few blocks to the pub. The air was so cold, their breath looked like little puffs of smoke. Robbie glanced up at James, noting how tired he seemed. The man's caffeine consumption had certainly increased since the new baby's birth four months ago. "How's my namesake sleeping these days?"
"Intermittently," James replied, stifling a yawn. "He's up at least twice a night to feed and he isn't much interested in going back to sleep. We're keeping him in ours so he doesn't wake Grace."
"Was Grace up a lot when she was his age?" Robbie asked, then regretted it when James looked a bit stricken.
"Sadly, I don't know," he said. "I didn't live with them until Grace was eight months old. I realize now how much I left on Lia's shoulders. She never complained but I wonder how much sleep she lost doing it all on her own."
"Lad, you were there every day."
"That's what Lia says. But in truth, I was there when I could fit them into my schedule."
"I hope you're not letting the past get in the way of the present," Robbie said. "I think you're just knackered, you poor sod."
"You're probably right."
The bar was quiet in the afternoon. A few patrons lingered over late pub lunches or an early start to the evening's drinking. A young woman wiped tables and tidied the condiments. She had long, dark blonde hair pulled into a knot at the top of her head.
A dark haired man behind the bar was polishing glassware. With his good looks and wide smile, Robbie figured he got a lot of attention from female patrons. Both he and the young woman wore red long sleeve henley shirts with a black dog emblem on the front.
"Does Lucy Phillips work here?" he asked. Robbie introduced himself and James as they held up their warrant cards.
"She does, but she's not due in until later," the young man responded. The woman employee joined him behind the partition and began wiping down the bar, edging closer and closer to the bartender.
"And you are?" Robbie asked.
"Brian Burns, I'm the manager here. This is Allison Carter."
"I'm afraid I have some bad news," James said. "A woman identified as Lucy jumped from the roof of her building. She's dead."
"No," the man said, shaking his head. "No that's not possible. Lucy would never kill herself. This must be a mistake." Brian looked thunderstruck, holding onto the bar as if it was the only thing keeping him from falling.
Allison gathered him in her arms. "It's okay," she said softly, rubbing his back. "I'm here, Brian. I'm here, love."
"Do you know where we might find Lucy's family?" James asked.
Brian seemed to pull himself together and extricate himself from Allison's embrace. "She never talked much about family. I think she was originally from Blackpool."
"Her dad was never in the picture," Allison said. "And her mom died a few years ago. I think she has some half-siblings somewhere up north."
"Did Lucy have a history of mental illness?" James asked.
"Not that I've ever seen," Brian answered. "She was always so upbeat. Really the most wonderful girl."
"Would one of you be able to formally identify the body?" James asked. "It can be done tomorrow morning, before you open."
"I'll do it," Brian said. Allison fussed over him, saying she would come along. After a bit of resistance, he acquiesced. James gave Brian his card and took their contact information before he and Robbie left.
"Was that odd?" Robbie asked as they walked back.
"The girl was definitely possessive. I think there might be a bit of a triangle there."
They got back to Lucy's building in time to see the morgue vehicle pulling away. Robbie helped Laura carry her equipment to her car. "Sorry for the slip up before."
"You'll be forgiven if you take me out for a nice meal after you come for the autopsy results."
"Will do," he said. He glanced around and seeing only James, he chanced a quick peck on Laura's lips. He watched Laura get in the car and drive off.
"I have the key to Lucy Carter's flat," Lizzie said, as she walked over and shook the keys making a jingling sound. "They were in her coat pocket, along with her cell phone and wallet. She had a few pounds in cash."
They climbed the stairs and found 2C. Lizzie unlocked the door and they entered. The flat was little more than a bedsit consisting of one main room with kitchen and sitting room areas and a tiny bedroom and bath.. The flat was messy, mounds of clothes on the unmade bed and most of the chairs, dishes and cups left on any surface. Empty take out containers spilled over the top of a full trash bin.
With gloved hands, they sorted through the detritus of another tragically short life. A sadly meager pantry and fridge signaled a girl who took most of her meals at work. Robbie found her appointment diary on the bed table. Entries detailed her shifts at work, lunches with friends, and the notation "BB" dotted here and there in red pen with hearts surrounding the initials. The word "coffee" was scrawled in the box for today.
"I think there was something going on with the Brian," Robbie said.
"I'd say you were right," James said, holding up a Valentine greeting card. Hathaway was blushing, which spoke to the inscription on the card. The bloke was married and apparently had an active sex life, evidenced by his growing family, but he still blushed like a schoolgirl at racy stuff. If James wasn't so sleep-deprived, Robbie would have taken the mickey out of him.
He took the card from James and read it. "He's pretty clear about what things he wanted them to do together. But listen to this, 'I can't wait until we don't have to hide anymore. But you're worth the wait, love.' Who do they have to hide from?"
"Brian and Allison gave me the same address." James said. "We need to get the card and envelope tested for fingerprints and we need to talk with Brian and Allison again."
"We should get over to the morgue, it's almost six."
Robbie drove them while James closed his eyes. "I hope the bairn starts sleeping, for your sake."
"From your mouth to God's ear" James said, without opening his eyes.
They arrived and went to find Laura who had changed out of scrubs in advance of their dinner date. "Ah, here are my two favorite fellows," she greeted them, standing by the draped body on the stainless steel table.
"Any surprises?" James asked.
"Nothing new. Massive skull fracture, multiple broken bones. Otherwise a fairly healthy young woman. A little undernourished, perhaps. The toxicology screen will hopefully tell us more. And we sent the contents of the coffee cup for analysis. By the way, they got some nice prints off the cup. Most are hers, but there were several from other subjects. Some good ones off the lid. Might be the barista's or maybe someone who tampered with the coffee."
"Evidence of drug use?" Robbie asked.
"Casual drug use doesn't always leave much evidence. I see no signs of injections or a cocaine habit. The tox screen may show something. I asked for a rush, so we may have it late afternoon tomorrow."
"I'm going to head home," James said. "Say a prayer that Luke let's us sleep."
"Absolutely." Laura rose on tiptoe to plant a kiss on James cheek. "Goodnight."
"May all the Hathaways have a peaceful night," Robbie said with a hand held up in benediction.
"So, where are you taking me for dinner?" Laura asked after James' footsteps retreated in the hallway.
"I was thinking of Biagio's."
"Good choice," she said.
After a lovely dinner and a pleasant evening, Robbie climbed into bed and hoped his friend wasn't being knocked about too badly by a four month old infant.
Morning dawned even colder than the previous day. Puddles were frozen over, making paved areas treacherous. Robbie nearly took a tumble in the car park on his way into the station.
At least James looked a bit more rested. "It was a one feeding night," he said with a smile. "I won't get my hopes up for another one tonight. We've been fooled before."
"Strawberry or raspberry?" Robbie asked, pointing at the smear of jam along James' jaw.
"What?" James said as he reached up to his face. His fingers came away sticky. He grimaced and wiped his jaw with his handkerchief. "Grace insisted on giving me a goodbye kiss before I left."
Brian Burns arrived at the station after eleven that morning. "I meant to get here sooner, but I worked until closing and overslept."
Laura met them in the morgue, pulling back the drapes to show Lucy's face. The techs had done what they could using her hair to hide the damage. Fortunately, the almost translucent skin of her face wasn't bruised too badly.
If Burns had seemed distraught the day before, seeing her body forced a wail of despair out of him. Robbie had heard that sound before, most recently from Peter Mayfield, months ago. Grief saved Robbie from remembering it clearly, but he was quite sure he'd made that sound when he saw Val.
Robbie and James brought Brian into the same quiet room in the morgue where they'd spoken with Mayfield.
"Allison let you come on your own?" James asked.
"I, uh, didn't really give her a chance to come with me. She's going to be pissed off, but I just wanted to be on my own for this."
"Brian, we found your Valentine greeting card in Lucy's flat," Robbie said.
"Yeah. That's why I wanted to come without Allison. Lucy and I had fallen in love. She and Allison used to be close, had shared a flat, actually. I wasn't with either of them at that point. We just all worked together."
"And then you and Allison got together," Robbie prompted.
"Yeah. Allison is a very forceful person, you see. I guess you could say that she set her sights on me. I hardly knew what happened. Next thing I know, she's bailed on Lucy and moved in with me. Poor Lucy had to give up their nice big flat and take that little one. Lost a lot of money getting out of the lease early. I felt terrible about it so I threw a few more shifts Lucy's way so she could make up some of the money. Allison didn't like that much."
"She was jealous," James said.
"Was she ever. Lucy and I were just friends then, but Allison made things so miserable at work and at home that I couldn't stand it. And after a while, I figured I might as well do the thing Allison was punishing me over."
"Does Allison know about you and Lucy?" Robbie asked.
"I don't think so. If she knew, she would make my life miserable. Look at the time," he said checking his watch. "I better get going. I have to do the booze and food ordering and work up next week's schedule." His voice broke as he realized who wasn't going to be on that schedule. "Oh God, I can't believe Lucy is gone."
After he left, they returned to the station and reviewed the information they had so far. They were still waiting on key pieces of information before they could move forward. So much of modern coppering seemed to take the form of waiting for reports and results.
After lunch, Lizzie went to check on what had been found on Lucy's phone. James had tried cracking the password, which hadn't been her or Brian's birthdate or anything that jumped out from her diary. They turned it over to IT who used their special tricks to crack the code and access the phone.
"There were some texts between Lucy and Brian, nothing terribly racy, or at least not as racy as the Valentine card," Lizzie said as she came back from meeting with IT. "They found a few photos." She opened a folder containing the printouts of the texts and photos. There were a few selfies of Lucy and Brian taken by the river, one of them on a bridge. "I'm not sure which bridge this is."
"It's Folly Bridge," Robbie said. "I recognize the pub in the background."
"I wonder if Allison saw these," Hathaway mused.
"Lucy might have shared her password back when they roomed together," Lizzie said. "Young women sometimes do that kind of thing, not that I'm speaking from experience or anything. I don't doubt Lucy wouldn't think to change the password, or that Allison checked the phone out of jealousy."
James' phone chimed and after a short conversation he reported to the others. "That was Laura. There were traces of LSD in the cup. The tox screen on Lucy's body is still underway. We need to get over to that coffee shop to see if they remember Lucy."
The sun was lower in the sky in the late afternoon, making it seem even colder as Lizzie directed them to the Cafe Noir location.
They found the barista, who had served Lucy, a young man with a curly ponytail and a great many freckles.
"Yeah, Lucy was in here yesterday morning. She was such a beautiful person. We all know her from the Black Dog. She was with that other girl from the pub, the one with the dirty blonde hair."
"What time was that?" Lizzie asked.
"Probably ten or so. After the 'going to work' rush but before the lunch crowd. Lucy got hazelnut coffee and the other girl had chai tea. The other girl told Lucy to snag a table and paid for both."
"Did she bring the drinks directly to the table?" Robbie asked.
"No, actually, she took both cups over to the cream and sugar stand. She was there for a minute or two and then carried them to the table. They barely got a sip of their drinks before they started to argue. It was pretty loud, but I couldn't hear what it was about. Then Lucy got up and stalked out with her coffee. The other girl sat there with this weird smile on her face."
"So there will be other fingerprints on the cup besides yours and Lucy's. We're going to need to take your fingerprints so we can eliminate them."
Lizzie made arrangements with the barista to have a constable bring him into the station the next day.
"We have enough to pick Allison up for questioning," James said once they were outside. "Lizzie, have a couple of uniforms meet us at the Black Dog."
They arrived at the Black Dog, which was busy in the early evening rush. Most of the tables were filled as were the bar stools. Two bartenders were on duty, as well as three barmaids, one of whom was Allison. Brian was not in evidence, but he'd mentioned doing administrative tasks when they talked with him earlier.
"We need to speak with you, Allison," James said. "We can do it here or somewhere more private."
She led them behind the bar to a store room off the kitchen. "What do you want from me?" Allison said, her eyes flashing defiance.. "I was here when Lucy jumped."
"You were with her earlier, though. You and Lucy went to Cafe Noir yesterday morning. We have a witness who said you had access to her coffee for several minutes. And the remains of the coffee in that cup tested positive for LSD."
That doesn't mean I put it there. Lucy was a slag and a druggie. She probably put LSD in the cup herself."
"You were jealous of Lucy. You found out about her affair with Brian." Hathaway, who habitually slumped had drawn himself up to his full height, which was rather imposing.
"She could get any guy," Allison sputtered, eyes flashing. "They all flocked to her. But she had to take Brian. She deserved whatever happened to her."
"Brian loved her and you couldn't stand that."
"Brian was in mourning for her!" she howled. "You saw him yesterday. Fucking mourning. He couldn't stop blubbering about it last night."
James walked into the kitchen area. "Is Brian in here?" he asked the cook.
"He was just here," the man said, pointing to an empty desk and chair. There were ledgers and papers on the desk as well as a large glass holding a couple of inches of beer. The cook opened the back door, letting in a blast of frigid air. He turned back to James, shaking his head. "He's gone."
James returned to the store room. "Allison, where is Brian?"
The smile on Allison's face was chilling.
"Did you give him LSD?" Robbie asked. Allison folded her arms and looked defiant.
James nodded at Lizzie who delivered the boilerplate language of arrest. The uniformed officers handcuffed her and led her out of the bar. Allison looked a bit unnerved as it struck her that she was in serious trouble.
"You all set to take it from here?" James asked Lizzie. She nodded emphatically and turned to secure the evidence on the desk.
"We've got to find Brian," Robbie said. "Anything could happen to him. He could run out into traffic."
They left the bar and found a group of smokers on the sidewalk, braving the freezing temperatures. James asked them if they'd seen Brian that evening. "Yeah, he came through the alley, just a minute before you guys arrived," one of them said. "Looked sort of out of it."
"Did he say anything to you?"
"He was mumbling something about Lucy. He kind of stumbled off that way," the man said as he pointed down the road.
They set off in that direction. There was light foot traffic due to the cold, but they asked groups of bundled up passersby along the way if they'd seen a dark haired man in a red shirt, possibly disoriented. A few were able to guide their path.
"This is the way to Folly Bridge," Robbie said, huffing a bit from the fast pace.
"I think that's him up ahead," James said, after another block. Hathaway, for his part, seemed to be barely exerting himself. Youth, Robbie thought. And perhaps the fact that he'd finally kicked the cigarettes again.
Robbie spotted the dark head bobbing along. Brian stopped and turned in a circle, holding his head in his hands. He spotted the bridge, howled in misery and took off again.
As they drew closer, they called out to him. Brian turned and ran along the side of the river away from the pubs and restaurants as he realized they were closing in on him. He was running toward the river bank. They heard a splash.
"Shit," James said as he unbuttoned his coat and tossed it to Robbie. His suit jacket followed.
"What are you doing, lad?" Robbie thought. Rationally, he was aware there were very few options. The water would be freezing and a disoriented man would be in terrible danger.
"Call for backup," James shouted as he ran to the river's edge and dove in. Hathaway grunted as he hit the icy water and began to swim in Brian's direction. The river was dark in that area, not illuminated by the lights along the business district. Robbie could barely make out the two figures.
Robbie pulled out his phone and called for backup and medical help, telling them that there were two men in the river. Part of him wanted to jump in after James, but he knew he would be more useful directing help from the shore.
There was panicked screaming from Brian as well as James' voice trying to calm the man. A great deal of splashing could be heard and then Brian started to swim for the bridge. What he planned on doing there was a puzzle. Perhaps he wanted to die under the bridge he associated with Lucy. Perhaps in his drug-laced brain, he thought she was waiting for him there. It didn't have to make sense with the LSD floating in his system.
Robbie could finally pick them out in lights from the bridge, Brian swimming desperately. James pursued him, cutting through the water smoothly. Robbie's view was short-lived as they passed under the structure. A great thrashing sound and heightened voices competed with the sound of sirens approaching. Robbie ran to the other side of the bridge to see James wearily pulling Brian to the shore.
Several uniformed officers rushed to help, pulling Brian out first and then James. Hathaway collapsed on the bank, breathing hard. Robbie was alarmed at his friend's appearance. Hathaway's skin was almost gray, his thin body shivering violently.
"Lad, we have to get you out of these wet clothes," Robbie said, trying to keep the fear out of his voice as he tore open the buttons on James' white shirt. If he could get the wet things off, he'd wrap Hathaway in both of their dry coats.
"Let us take over, sir." Robbie turned to see the medics had arrived. They got Hathaway onto a stretcher and wheeled him over to the ambulance. "It's warm in here," one of them said.
"Sir, is Inspector Hathaway all right?" Lizzie asked as she joined him. "They've got Brian Burns in the other ambulance. He looks like he's in rough shape."
"Hathaway doesn't look great, either," Robbie told her. He watched through the small gap between the ajar ambulance doors as they stripped James' wet clothing from him and wrapped him in blankets. Robbie asked the ambulance driver where they were taking James.
Lewis fished in his pocket for his car keys. "Listen," he said to Lizzie, "I'm going to go with him to the hospital. Will you head back to the Black Dog and get my car and drive it to the JR? And there's a carryall in the boot. Bring that in, will you?."
"Will do, sir. Hope he's okay." Lizzie gave Robbie's arm a firm squeeze.
"Thanks," Robbie said before turning to ask the ambulance driver, "Okay if I ride along?"
The driver gave him the option of riding in the passenger seat or in the back. Robbie climbed into the back of the ambulance.
Heat blasted out of the vents by the stretcher and they had James bundled up in several blankets. Despite these measures, the poor man continued to shiver uncontrollably on the stretcher. He had an oxygen mask over his face, and a blood pressure monitor around his bare upper arm. In his exhaustion, Hathaway could barely keep his eyes open.
The medic asked Hathaway questions. "James, stay with me. I noticed your back is bruised. Did you hit your head as well?"
"No. My back got the brunt." His voice was muffled behind the oxygen mask.
"Did you inhale river water?"
"Don't think so. Might have swallowed some."
James closed his eyes when the questions ceased, only opening them again when the ambulance stopped in front of the A&E entrance. The second ambulance with Brian Burns pulled up behind it. The hospital must have been notified that an injured officer was being brought in as well as a drugging victim because staff met them on the sidewalk.
Both men were whisked into A&E. Robbie had to hurry to stay with them. As they proceeded through A&E he took a moment to tell the hospital staff that Brian Burns had been given a dose of LSD. The man was panicked and whimpering as, like Hathaway, he shivered under the blankets.
James was wheeled into an alcove at the back of the department. One of the few perks of being a police officer was a bit of additional privacy in A&E. The curtain was twitched closed, with the swish of metal rings on the track. Standing outside, Robbie couldn't hear much of the conversation with the doctor, but it sounded like James was being asked the same questions as in the ambulance.
Now, with time to think, realization hit Robbie that he could have lost his friend. The situation would have gone pear-shaped very quickly if Hathaway had been hit in the head and lost consciousness in the frigid water.
Robbie felt a warm hand rest on his arm. "He'll be okay," Laura said softly.
"He looked pretty bad when they pulled him from the river."
They found a couple of chairs and sat waiting until the doctor came out. "I'll see what I can find out," Laura said. Robbie was grateful. She'd be able to translate the medical stuff so even his addled brain would understand. They both rose when the curtain slid open and the doctor emerged.
James' eyes were closed when Robbie entered the alcove. A nurse checking the displays on the equipment smiled at Robbie and swept out. Hathaway was partly hidden under a puffy, humming blanket. His skin had pinked up, and he looked almost comfortable. Robbie pulled over a chair and sat next to his friend. He turned as he heard Laura come in.
"It's good news," she said, voice low so as not to disturb James. She moved a second chair close to Robbie. "His lungs are clear and they're pretty sure that he didn't inhale any water. Apparently, in trying to save Brian Burns, he took a hard elbow to his side and got slammed into the bridge support. They'll be doing X-rays to make sure nothing is broken."
"When we were in the ambulance he said he didn't hit his head. He was conscious the whole time," Robbie told her.
"That's good. They'll probably do a cranial X-ray, just to be sure. His core temperature is below normal, completely expected due to the length of time he was in the water. They're going to "defrost" him under this warming blanket for a while and keep an eye on his vitals. Once his body temperature comes up and stays in normal limits for at least an hour, they'll send him home."
"I've got to call Lia. God, this could have been really tragic; two bairns could be growing up without their dad."
"I know. I can't wrap my head around that. I'm going to head over to theirs. Try and keep Lia from worrying too much."
He put his arms around her and held her close. "With luck, the lad will sleep in his own bed tonight."
"He's looking good so far. The other fellow may not be as lucky with the drugs still in his system. I'll see you later, hopefully, with James in tow."
Robbie knew he couldn't put off the call too long, or Laura would arrive at the house and be burdened with delivering news and that was not her responsibility. It was his.
"Ah, lad, your wife is going to hate seeing my name on the caller ID after this."
Note: The Nell reference in the beginning of the story is from episode "And the Moonbeams Kiss the Sea" from season 2 and the drugged suicide reference is from "The Gift of Promise" from season 5.
I concocted this case file for the sole purpose of dunking James in an icy river and then thawing him out again. I recognize that is possibly mean of me, but I'm a sucker for hurt/comfort.