"Sorry about that, Dr Isles had to deal with an emergency," Jane said smoothly as she re-entered the ward. "You were about to tell us about something interesting happening on the 16th."
"I was? I'm afraid it's completely slipped my mind."
"Fair enough. We have more than one witness placing you in the alley, and when we match your DNA to the DNA on the victim, we'll have enough to charge you."
Mr Smith looked mildly concerned for the first time that morning. "My DNA might be on any number of people."
"The more you tell us, the better chance you have."
He glanced at Maura. "Trauma can affect memory," he said.
After a slight nod from Jane, Maura answered. "Yes, it can. It must be terrifying, not remembering if you killed someone, or who you killed."
"I did not kill anyone," Smith declared vehemently.
Maura reminded herself about lying eyes.
"Prove it," Jane said.
"As you well know, the burden of proof is yours, not mine."
"Have it your way. Come on, Dr Isles."
"Where are you going?" He sounded worried. Jane smiled.
"To find proof."
They left the room and went up to Maura's office. It didn't take long for Maura to delegate her responsibilities - her mental list was written down and shared between other doctors, and in less than ten minutes she was ready to leave.
"So, do we call a forensics team and tear the place apart?" she asked as they walked out of the hospital.
Jane chuckled. "We don't even know if a crime was committed there yet. For now, we're just gonna go check it out. We'll go in, you can show me where the ball would have been and where this Red Sky painting is, we'll snoop around a bit, and then I'll have a chat with security."
"Are we allowed to turn up without asking and snoop around?"
"Isn't that what everyone does in galleries?"
Maura laughed. "Touche."
Jane hadn't brought a car, and suggested they walk along the river. They had another coffee and enjoyed the morning bustle of the Southbank, although Jane practically had to drag Maura past the second hand book market under Waterloo bridge.
"We could stop on the way back," Maura suggested. "During our lunch break."
"Okay, we can take our lunch break here, if you eat a hot dog," Jane said, smiling wickedly.
"What benefit could you possibly derive from me eating a hot dog?" Maura asked.
Jane continued smiling. "You'll find it about as pleasant as I'll find the books."
"So you want me to suffer with you," Maura said, raising an eyebrow.
Jane chuckled. "Sure. That's the true meaning of compassion, after all."
"You like books far more than you pretend," Maura told her.
"And I bet you'll secretly like the hot dog, so it'll all work out fine."
"Fine. One hot dog, 30 minutes of books," Maura offered.
Jane countered immediately. "20 minutes, with a spend limit of £5."
Maura rolled her eyes. "25 minutes, with a spend limit of £100."
Jane feigned total shock. "£100? Aren't second hand books like £1 each?"
"Some of them are antiques and might be more expensive," Maura insisted.
"20 minutes, spend limit £50, but everything you buy has to fit in your purse."
Maura considered her purse, which was remarkably spacious. "30 minutes and I'll accept your other conditions."
"Okay, I'll give you your 30 minutes, but we eat the hot dogs first, and afterwards, you buy us churros."
"You'll make yourself sick."
"If I do, you're going down with me. You have to eat at least one entire churro. With sauce."
"For 30 minutes, £50?"
Jane nodded.
"It's a deal," Maura said, holding out her hand.
Jane shook it. "Pleasure doing business with you."
Even as Jane spoke, their eye contact intensified. Jane watched Maura's slightly parted lips as she drew in a sharp, hungry breath.
BREAK
"Pleasure doing business with you," Maura gasped, reaching back to grip the top of the toilet stall in the jazz bar Jane had only agreed to come to under certain conditions - conditions which were currently being diligently fulfilled.
Jane kissed Maura's neck, pulling her dress aside to expose more skin. Maura wrapped a hand around Jane's shoulder and stifled a moan as Jane moved her mouth lower.
"They'll be starting again soon," Maura breathed, but she made no attempt to move away from Jane's devouring lips.
"You agreed to a full 30 minutes," Jane said, nipping Maura's breast through her bra.
"I agreed to making out."
"This is making out," Jane said, but met Maura's gaze and waited for a nod before sliding her hands up Maura's thighs.
Maura closed her eyes and submitted to the sensation, warmth pooling inside her at the feel of Jane's lips, teeth, and tongue.
She opened her eyes when she felt Jane hesitate, her just fingers touching the lace trim of Maura's underwear.
"How long do we have?" Maura asked, her voice catching in her throat, betraying her desperation.
Jane removed her hand to check her watch.
"7 minutes."
Maura took the hand and guided it back between her legs, then reached over to unbuckle Jane's belt.
"Plenty of time," she breathed as Jane's lips found hers.
BREAK
The remainder of their walk to the Tate passed in silence until they reached the Founder's Arms. Jane showed Maura the crime scene, which was still cordoned off with police tape.
"We found the body here," she explained. "Three stab wounds, blood all over the place. Our coroner reckons he bled out in a few minutes."
Maura looked towards the gallery. "How many minutes?" she asked.
"I'll check the report." Jane followed Maura's gaze. "You thinking he could've been stabbed somewhere else? I know what you mean, but there would be a blood trail."
"There must be some way to avoid a blood trail. What if he was carried?"
"With those injuries, he'd still have been bleeding. We'd have found something."
"Not if he was carried inside something."
"What, like in a bag?" Jane asked, dubious.
"Bags are used for deceased patients for many reasons, but one is to contain bodily fluids."
"Well that's disgusting. But I see what you mean. I'll ask the coroner."
They walked towards the gallery. It was as close as Maura had described, and Jane's gut was already convinced that a murder and an attempted robbery on the same night, within a few yards of each other, had to be connected.
Maura led the way down a wide ramp and through a row of glass doors. Inside, Jane looked up to see a huge installation made from recycled plastic bottles dangling from the ceiling.
"Isn't that like the stuff your Mom does?" she asked Maura.
"She collaborated on the project," Maura admitted. They entered the main hall.
"Large functions can take place here, but there's also space on the roof, and they often open up various galleries to allow guests to view the art."
Jane nodded. She would need to cover a lot of ground, and from what she could see, the place was full of dark corners which she'd need to investigate.
"Where's this painting that set off the alarm?"
Maura pointed to the escalators. "Come on. It's in the second floor exhibition."
They reached the correct level and Maura showed a membership card and smiled at the attendant.
"Would it be alright for me to bring in a guest? I'm happy to pay."
"Of course, Dr Isles. No payment necessary - any friend of yours is a friend of the gallery."
"Thank you," said Maura, channelling her mother and producing a charming smile.
The exhibition was a series of works celebrating the natural world. Maura had already seen it several times, but as they approached the centrepiece, Red Sky, she saw that something was different.
Amongst the textured, violent brushstrokes of the painting, there were stains of another substance which Maura was all too familiar with.
"I can't be sure what it is," Maura whispered in Jane's ear, "But there is a reddish brown stain on that painting which was not there a week ago."
"Blood?" Jane whispered back.
"There is no way to know without testing it," Maura muttered.
"Come on, what else would it be? Ketchup?"
Jane strode to the nearest guard and flashed her badge.
"I need to speak to the head of security, immediately. And we need to clear this room - this whole area is now a crime scene."
She got on the phone and ordered a forensics team, and the gallery security guards were remarkably efficient. While Jane secured the area, Maura looked at the painting. The effect was just as she remembered, despite the alteration, and grotesque as it was, she could understand how people might not have noticed.
She looked carefully at the wall next to the painting. She'd need a UV lamp to be sure, but she had a strong suspicion the white walls had been cleaned with bleach. She said as much to Jane, who added this to the list of things the forensics team should check.
When the forensics team arrived, Jane went to review the CCTV. It wasn't particularly revealing. The Red Sky exhibition had been closed during the ball on the 16th, and the motion-sensitive cameras had never been activated. The alarm, Jane learned, could be triggered by movement in the room, or any attempt to remove the painting from the wall. All paintings of a certain value or above were affixed to the wall in this way.
When she asked how much the painting was worth, she was told it had last been valued at £800.000.
"800,000 motives for murder," she said to Maura, who was interested, but also itching to see the forensics team at work.
"But why did they come in for a painting and leave with a body?" Maura asked as they walked back to the exhibition. "A body isn't worth £800,000."
"Depends on the body," Jane said, a twinkle in her eye. "But I know what you mean. Could be a few things. Fight with an accomplice, someone caught him in the act… Aside from establishing the room as a crime scene, I don't think we'll get much from Forensics either. So many people have been in there, even if we find Smith's fingerprints or DNA, it'd never hold up in court."
Maura thought about this. "What if his fingerprints were somewhere you wouldn't find anyone else's?"
"Like where?"
Maura pointed up to an air conditioning vent in the ceiling. "If I were an art thief, that's how I'd get in here. It's the most obvious choice."
"You think a lot about what you'd do if you were an art thief?"
Maura shook her head. "No. But I was very interested in Tomb Raider for a while."
"Tomb Raider as in Angelina Jolie, Lara Croft?"
"Yes."
"Wait." Jane raised an eyebrow. "Interested as in, interested?"
Maura chose not to answer. She watched a forensic technician climb up a ladder to check the vent.
"Someone's been in here," he called down to Jane. "Might be a partial print on one of the screws."
This was collected. The gallery director came down to watch as Red Sky was removed from the wall and wrapped in evidence bags. She looked as if she might cry.
"I just can't believe someone would deface such an important piece of art," she said.
"Yeah, that's the shocking part," Jane replied, rolling her eyes. She turned to Maura. "I need to go back to the station this afternoon, write up everything we got this morning, and speak to the coroner. You ready for your lunch?"
They made their way to the exit. "Actually, all that blood has made me lose my appetite," said Maura.
"Bullshit," Jane said. "You're eating a hot dog. A whole one."
It didn't take long to reach the hot dog van. Jane ordered two, and after a cautious bite, Maura had to admit, it really wasn't that bad. They sat looking out at the river while they ate.
"We went to see that movie," Jane said suddenly. "You didn't even tell me you liked it!"
Maura realised she was talking about Tomb Raider again.
"You were arguing so passionately for thigh holsters to be standard BPD issue that I didn't want to interrupt."
"Right! I still want to try them."
"Just the holsters?" Maura asked, peering curiously at Jane over her hot dog.
Jane smirked. "I mean, if I'm wearing the holsters, I'm wearing the shorts. And if I'm wearing the shorts I might as well do the whole outfit... I don't think I'd get away with wearing it to work, though."
"It's Halloween in just over a month," Maura pointed out. "We could go to a costume party."
Jane took a beat to consider whether this was a real possibility. She hadn't been to a party since she moved to London. Maybe, as friends, it could be good for both of them.
"What would you dress up as?"
"Whatever you want me to," Maura said, lowering the pitch of her voice.
Jane felt a pleasant shudder go through her body, and had to remind herself several times that Maura was no longer hers to fantasise about. Not that Maura seemed to mind.
They finished their food. Maura produced sanitiser and napkins from her purse and led the way to the books. She clearly knew her way around the huge market, and made a beeline for a table at the end. Jane walked behind her, setting a timer on her phone.
"I thought you'd like this section," Maura told her. Jane looked, and realised the table was laiden with boxes of vintage comic books.
"Oh my God, Maura, they have Wonder Woman: Private Detective!" Jane squealed, diving into the boxes,
Maura laughed. "Does everything you want to buy have to fit in my purse as well?"