Chapter Ten

DCI Sam Tyler was in hospital after the blue Vauxhall Cavalier left him on the side of the road in Manchurian Way during a near fatal hit and run, six months ago. The doctor informs PCSO Liz Cartwright asking her and DS Gene Hunt to investigate an elderly ex GMP Detective Chief Inspector, who claimed to know their colleague during the 1970s. Is there more to this than meets the eye referring to early onset dementia in this man?

"PCSO Cartwright speaking?" Liz asked over her pink Motorola flip mobile camera phone, waiting for someone to reply back.

"Miss. Liz Cartwright?" the voice on the handset asked her. Liz's eyes widened at the question. It was never a good sign when doctors rang up to confirm your identity. Eight years of police work taught her this, if nothing else.

"Yes, this is she. Why are you asking?" she answered with dread pooling at the bottom of her stomach.

"I'm a doctor at St. James's General for Manchester NHS. We have a patient who's been in a road traffic accident," the voice informed, well schooled in sympathy present in it's tone.

"Oh god, is it someone I work with?" she asked scared of the answer.

"We did think so. The accident originally happened six months ago, and none of his loved ones recognise the name of the ex police officer, but now we've been given reasons for you and Detective Seargent Eugene Hunt to investigate this man for historical police corruption. We think he may have the beginnings of early on-set dementia."

"Why wasn't Gene and I were informed earlier?" Nervousness grabbed hold of Liz, forcing every question out.

"As I said we have no way of knowing this 70-73 year old ex police officer is connected to your DCI Sam Tyler: our patient. After the accident he slipped into a coma and was unresponsive to any stimuli until recently." The voice carried on in it's clinical way.

"Wait a coma? Is our DCI going to be alright? Who is he, this strange ex policeman?" Liz forced herself to ask, sinking in her leather desk chair staring at a blank page in Microsoft Word.

"We have great hopes for his recovery now that he's responded to sensory stimuli. Your DCI Tyler has shown awareness of the world, even though he is still unable to wake up, these mutterings about policing in the 1970s; since starting to respeak, this is the reason why we're calling you and DS Eugene Hunt."

"Who is this ex policeman, he's mentioned my?" Liz insisted, dreading the answer but needing to know.

"His name is X Hunt an uncle of your Eugene."

"Gerry?" She said, now why did a relative of Gene's sound familiar despite her never knowing him? Then realisation struck the Police Community Support Officer, almost like a physical blow and she very nearly dropped her mobile phone cracking the screen top.

"You don't know him?" The voice asked.

"I didn't," she answered breathlessly "He worked for our Stopford House station, once a upon a time."

"Then maybe both you and Eugene are able to investigate to answer something else that puzzled us. He keeps mentioning a Guv, but your colleagues and his friends have informed us that he never refers to his superiors in this manner. Would you know who this 'Guv' is?"

"You know, I might have an inkling." PCSO Cartwright answered, a sad smile on her face "Would it be alright if I rang up DS Gene Hunt and came to pick up his ex policeman 'Guv' uncle?"

"It would be ideal really," the voice said pleased "It would help your cold case people gain closure on a historical police allegation."

"We'll be there as soon as I talk to Gene." She smiled wryly with a few formalities, she ended the call and scrolled through the contacts on her Motorola Razor mobile camera phone. She taught her nephews how to store numbers inside a mobile, but as back-up she kept them inside a Filofax book written down, as she was 27 or 28 years of age; through the habit Cartwright stuck to since starting at GMP in 1997. Finally finding her colleague's number she was looking for; she dialled it and waited for someone to pick up the other end.

"You're talking to the Gene Genie, so talk fast, I haven't got all day dude," a voice sounding like Philip Glenister informed her. Liz had to smile at that as it was his usual way of greeting colleagues at Greater Manchester Police. He may be 41 or 42 but he was trendy as ever and hadn't changed much since the 80s-90s. He was the same as he'd ever been wearing his usual mullet hairstyle, smart denim blue jeans, black suit, white collared shirt, snakeskin boots and has one of the first Apple I-Phone units.

"Boss," she said without thinking. Classic habits die hard "Gene," she asked hoping that he could help with the investigation and that this mystery former Detective Chief Inspector wasn't one of those who never got over having to retire and that their little slip up had sent him careering into old memories. When the mobile phone accidentally cut their conversation short, the dedicated PCSO carried on "It's me, Liz Cartwright? From Police Community Support downstairs?"

"Cartwright?" he chewed on the name to see if he can remember the taste on when they first saw each other in the station "Worked for me back in the 90s?"

"Actually yeah, I believe I need your help with a former Greater Manchester Police officer, who referred to me as a 'plonk' which is a phrase not used nowadays?" She smiled trying not to take any offence at what a grey haired 70 odd year old ex police officer referred to his female uniformed colleague as. Gene had worked side by side with Liz Cartwright for a while but knew when a former police officer spouted some derogatory nonsense, he'd get touchy of course he did. He wouldn't be Gene if corrupt officers went unchallenged on the blue line of duty.

"It's PCSO or Detective Constable. Sadly love, these old school coppers don't hold with that PC stuff everyone has to live up to these days." Gene Hunt knew it was partly a generational thing.

"So, Cartwright, any reason why you decided to give me a ring? Did you fancy meeting me up somewhere for a quicky, or was it something important? If my photographic memory's not failing me, you have quite the arse on you as like back in the day?" Liz rolled her eyes on this, yet felt pleased that DS Gene Hunt was going to help out with this new case. It felt good to talk to another Greater Manchester Police colleague, feeling just like old times in the late Nineties.

It was good to speak to Gene again. She'd missed him, even if she hadn't known it around the main Greater Manchester Police Stopford House premises.

"I'm only 27 or 28, Boss!" she said, Gene was forgetting that both were speaking to each other on a purely professional basis working for the force. "We're supposed to be proper professional police officers!"

"I bet it's still tasty though in that neon PCSO uniform," he said, and she could have sworn she heard DS Gene Hunt wink through the phone.

"Be that as it may, Sir, that's not why I called. I got a call from the hospital today on a strange ex policeman hanging around the intensive care unit." She said, the happiness eradicated from her voice at the words hospital, ex policeman and intensive care.

"You alright, Cartwright?" Gene said, thinly veiled concern etched in his voice.

"It's not me that's in trouble, Boss." She answered sadly "Do you remember when DCI Sam Tyler was first admitted to hospital, after the hit and run in his silver Jeep Grand Cherokee?" There was a few seconds of silence before DS Gene Hunt answered the question given.

"DCI Tyler? I remember him from that Tactical Driving course we were both on, two years ago in 2005. A bit soft in the head, but a brilliant officer nonetheless. I suppose two suspects with schizophrenia, Kremer and Raimes put him in that awful hit and run incident? Damn shame, he's a good boy."

"Except he was hit trying to stop a speeding driver while parking his Jeep in the middle of Manchurian Way!" Liz exclaimed.

"I know, PCSO Cartwright and I knew you liked him. You two are always mooning over each other to such a degree in the station, that some of the old boys find it sickening."

"That's why the hospital wanted us to go down and investigate. DCI Tyler was in the accident six months ago and he's still at St James's General. He's been saying your uncle's name."

"Oh my days!" Gene shouted in shock "I thought my uncle Gerry Hunt was retired years ago in the 90s?" she could hear him trying to exhale in shock over the news.

"Cartwright," he carried on "I'll be at the hospital and you'll be coming with in my Scorpio. I'm going to give that former DCI a right interviewing for breaking the fabric of the blue line!" He finished the conversation not noticing what he admitted to. "That fat old shit's been hanging around our station before Tyler's hit and run?! And you didn't think to tell me or another colleague about it? Oh, Cartwright; you can challenge expired police officers anytime."

Gene and Liz had been waiting close for 15 minutes in the silver Scorpio Ultima outside the main entrance of the hospital with the Ford RDS CD radio playing quietly: David Bowie's Rock and Roll Suicide, when they notice ex DCI Gerry Hunt came barging towards her from an ancient bronze Ford Cortina Mk3 2000 Executive; surprisingly fast for a man in his 70s who relied on a cane. She suspected that he didn't really need it at all, just kept it around to beat people Gerry disagreed with.

The elderly former DCI didn't even slow down for DS Gene Hunt and PCSO Liz Cartwright, only shaking his head that indicated he wanted the two police officers to follow him. They obediently did, when Liz finally catches up with him quickly.

"Gerry, I think it'd be better if your nephew Gene and I were the ones who could ask to see our colleague Sam." He halted at that.

"Why?" The elderly ex Greater Manchester Police officer asked, suspiciously sizing her up.

"Well you haven't got the best way with people, have you? We're going to see a coma patient. If you lose your temper with the poor receptionist, they won't let you in." reasoned the Police Community Support Officer looking meaningfully at Gene's uncle.

"I suppose y' might be right, Miss. Cartwright," He grumbled. She gave Gene's elderly uncle a nod before stepping up to the reception, asking for directions.

Gene was far too busy playing on his transparent pink Nintendo Gameboy Advance on Sonic Advance at the waiting room not noticing the PCSO was trying to catch his attention.

"DS Gene Hunt, turn that game off!" said Liz Cartwright "Your colleague is in room 314."

They walked in silence, counting off the numbered doors until they finally reached their destination. Liz drew a deep breath as Detective Seargent Gene Hunt reached the doorknob, the door opened from the inside and someone stepped out.

"I'm sorry DS Gene Hunt and PCSO Liz Cartwright, do I know this man?" The elderly woman asked, looking upon Gene's uncle with surprise.

"Why, should you?" Gene accidentally blurted out in challenge.

"I am the mother of your colleague in this room, so yes I'd like to know who's this stranger visiting my son?" the woman said.

"Mrs. Tyler?" Liz asked surprised "You're Sam's mother?!"

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Mrs. Tyler answered strictly "Why is a ex police officer visiting my son and who is he?" nearly tugging Gene's ear in the process like a naughty schoolboy despite being a grown up police officer. Just down the way, two old men argued about the merits of party rings in a balanced diet since arriving from a Tesco Metro. Were they the former police officers Gene and Sam investigated from reopened 1973 and 1974 complaints?

"He used to work in CID, years ago." said Liz hurriedly, making sure to cut off Gene's uncle before he said something inappropiate that would jeopardise the case and get it thrown out by the Crown Prosecution Service.

"We didn't know he was the missing link to the accident until today. Gene used to call his uncle 'Guv' when my mother Annie was still working for the force." Liz said hoping it would be enough for Mrs. Tyler to be satisfied about the new fresh lead; she and Gene turned up.

"Your mother Annie and the Guv? Thank goodness they exist! We were wondering if Sam's mental capacities were damaged," the woman exclaimed in relief.

"If you ask me, they always were," Gerry Hunt murmured, instantly recieving a death glare from Liz and his nephew Gene.

"Would it be okay if we went to visit Sam, now?" The woman PCSO answered hopefully.

"Yes, yes of course. Go right ahead!" Ruth Tyler ushered the two police officers towards the door. "I hope you're able to help find the missing link." Then she disappeared down the hall.

DCI Sam Tyler was laid up in the clinically white hospital bed; attributed to 6 months inside, laying unconciously in the surgery ward, not moving a muscle.

"What else did our DCI Tyler tell you before his accident?" Gene bit out angrily.

"Remember when your uncle pulled in a fake travelling salesman for trying to take over after Stephen Warren? That man was his father DI Vic Tyler going undercover just before he walked out on Sam's mum!" PCSO Liz Cartwright cried.

"Now listen, Cartwright, it is possible that there's a case from 1973 left unsolved since then, six years before you were even born." explained DS Gene Hunt trying to comfort a broken hearted colleague after she worked out the secret pointing at DCI Tyler's comatose body; especially as Liz Cartwright was only around since 1979.

"Then how do you explain your 'Guv' uncle? 30 years of a case lying around in our database archives in limbo!" she asked in anger at the dodgy practises that their predecessors used back in the Seventies when CID was simply named 'A' Division.

"It is true..." Gene insisted in tears "It's possible that there's more skeltons lurking around the database premises..." disgusted at the amount of corners cut during the original case.

"And yet that's the only explanation for an ex Detective Chief Inspector related to you... I'm being a right little CID girl aren't I?" Liz cried pleadingly.

"If this was a test, you'd pass Cartwright and I'd be proud of you." explained DS Gene Hunt.

Gerry limping in circles "That's why birds shouldn't mix with CID!" he said in a loud gruff sexist tone. "'Cause all they're good for is tea, biscuits and working with other plonks!"

"You can't be doing this, Tyler!" ex DCI Gerry Hunt yelled slamming his cane down on Sam's bed with a great thud. "Wake up, Tyler, you've got some explaining to do. I said wake up, DI Tyler. Do I have to make it an order for you to understand?" he shouted, moving closer.

For a moment, the fight in the old former Detective Chief Inspector seemed to ebb out as he was wearing a faded brown camel hair coat, cream loafer shoes and a hidously gaudy kipper tie on a 1970s style collared t-shirt. "Always too stubborn to do as I tell you, aren't you?" He dug into his coat pocket for his stash of single malt whiskey, taking a big swig before limping towards the door.

Gene was taking in all the wires attached to his colleague, all the bleeping of the hospital machines keeping DCI Sam Tyler alive. Kept him going.

"There was always something getting in our way of our romance, Sam?" he heard Liz Cartwright say softly. She pulled her hair back into a bob style and DS Gene Hunt could see Sam's eyes fluttering open.

"Sam! Oh you're back!" Cartwright exclaimed, shocked.

Sam comes out of his coma with the memories and new outlook from the year he was four.

None of the police officers notice the door shutting silently behind an old man with a cane, muttering bitterly about Sleeping fucking Beauty.

Gene radios for DC Chris Marshall Skelton to collect the former Detective Chief Inspector describing him as: IC1 male between 70-73 years old, grey haired wearing a faded camel hair coat in brown, cream loafer shoes, a hideous kipper tie and a gaudy 70s collared t-shirt. A borderline alcoholic.

Gene changed his perspective on several key things and got across how he was feeling without directly saying it, because Gene himself doesn't know how to directly say it while Sam was still unconscious. Maya understood why her relationship with Sam wouldn't work and still cared deeply for him. He really wanted to do DCI Sam Tyler justice since the 2005 Tactical Driving course marked an intense and inescapable chapter to their relationship, since the beginning in 1973 at four and eight years old. Sam suddenly realizes he did know Gene Hunt in his own, real life.