A Leap in Time Chapter 5
Bobby was still agitated. "What about the cuffs!" he demanded of Hammond. Then, abruptly, he turned and headed back to the jailroom.
The guard, Harris, was rubbing his sore shoulder when Bobby burst back in. Involuntarily he stepped back as Bobby came towards him.
"Get them off!" he told Harris, indicating the cuffs on the prisoner.
Harris shot a quick glance at Hammond, who along with everyone else had followed Bobby back in. Hammond didn't react.
"Get the hell out of here!" Harris told Bobby.
"Why do you need the cuffs?" Bobby continued angrily. "He's already locked up! He doesn't need to be chained up like an animal!"
"You don't even know what this man's done!" Harris retorted.
"Yeah? Well I know what you did," Bobby said, getting in his face.
Then Alex was between the two men, her hands on Bobby's chest, pushing her big partner backwards. "Bobby…don't." Then Alex herself turned to Hammond. "Well?"
Hammond turned to Harris. "Get the cuffs off the prisoner."
Harris was shocked. "Wha…? He can't just come in here and—""I'll take care of it, Harris. You take care of your prisoner."
Once outside the jailroom, Hammond exploded. "He's right, Cromwell! When you were in charge you would never have allowed these two to come in and take over your jurisdiction!"
"When I was in charge," Cromwell replied, "I would never have allowed this abuse to take place!"
Hammond stared at them for a minute, then went to his office and returned a few seconds later with some papers. He threw them at Bobby angrily. "There's your list of suspects. Good luck.And just so you know, I'm still in charge here!" He returned to his office, slamming his door behind him.
As Bobby picked up the list of suspects, Alex remarked, "you know, Bobby, if you're shooting for at least one enemy from every century, you missed one of the best with the Spanish Inquisition. And Attila the Hun—when was he from again?"
"Fifth century, AD," Bobby replied distractedly, still looking at his papers.
Alex rolled her eyes. "Well I'm sure any one of them would have been happy to get hold of you."
Bobby stared at her for a second, then back to his papers. "Look at this Eames." He held up his list. "There must be at least 40-some suspects." He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I don't think Hammond wants us to find him."
Alex looked at the list, then at Bobby. "He did say they could handle it themselves."
"Except that they're not." Bobby paused for a moment. "I think…first, we need to see the bodies."
Alex wrinkled her nose. Although it was a necessary part of the job, it was not necessarily her favorite.
The medical examiner showed them in. "I was actually going to close down early today…I have an important engagement—"
"We won't be long," Alex told him.
"Well, as I told you, some of the bodies have been released and buried. These poor creatures are still here…" the medical examiner, George Richmond, showed them to the poor "creatures" that he still had in the morgue. They were the bodies of Elizabeth Stride and Catherine Eddowes, both murdered on the same day.
"Uh…do you mind if I examine the bodies?" Bobby asked, his curiosity drawing him closer and closer to the gruesome bodies. "And do you have a magnifying glass?"
"Have you made any determinations so far?" Alex asked, turning away just as Bobby moved in, magnifying glass in hand.
"Only that the perpetrator was a male, large, and left-handed," M.E. Richmond said, eyeing the left-handed Bobby suspiciously.
"Photographs?" Bobby asked, ignoring the obvious attention. "Do you have photos of the crime scenes and the victims?"
The medical examiner smiled broadly. Photography was rather new, and he was proud his office was one of the few to have photographs of crime victims.
"Well, here they are. Don't know what else you can learn from them, however, they've been examined by real experts."
Bobby let the comment slide, and took the photos. "Think I can borrow these for a few days?"
"Well, actually, no. I don't think the police department would care to have outsiders absconding with their property."
"We have the authority!" Alex snapped.
"Not from what I've been told," Richmond replied.
Bobby took a step towards him, then stopped. "May I remind you," he said evenly, "that we are the police department!"
Backing away slightly, Richmond repeated, "again, not from what I've heard."
Bobby straightened. They were not making this easy. He glanced at Alex. "Guess we'll just have to settle in here and study them for awhile. Eames, that shop down the street…think you could rustle up some lunch for us?"
"But I…you can't—" Richmond started.
Alex shook her head, and looked patronizingly at her partner. "Sorry. When he gets involved with something like this I can't drag him away…do they serve coffee in that shop?"
Richmond was flustered, "Well…I…maybe I…can let you borrow them overnight…?"
"That'd be great!" Bobby told him, putting the pictures in his new journal as he finished his examination of the bodies.
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Riding around in a hackney cab everywhere they went was slow and tedious and it was already dark when they arrived back at Inspector Cromwell's house. Both were tired and hungry, and somewhat concerned with the interference they were encountering every step of the way.
Cromwell welcomed them back warmly. "So, how did the rest of your day go? After I left?"
"You don't want to know," Alex said glumly. "It just seems like everyone's against us…"
"And you're wondering why. Why they're rejecting you instead of embracing you and welcoming your help."
"You would think they'd want this guy stopped."
"Well, under normal conditions they would," Cromwell explained. "But right now this Ripper thing has made us an international disgrace. We're the laughing stock of the modern world. We've got two different police forces fighting to be the ones to solve the crime, to save face, and then in come you two Americans, eager to solve the case. When you do solve this case, which hopefully you will, it will be a big black eye for the London police."
Both of them looked at Bobby who was engrossed in the list of suspects and the crime scene photos. Cromwell assumed Bobby had not heard a word, intent on his work. "Oh, he heard you," Alex said. "He doesn't miss a thing."
At that Bobby looked up sheepishly. "Sorry. I… I understand what you're saying. But it just doesn't feel right. Something just doesn't jive, doesn't fit."
Cromwell sighed. "Well, Laddie, try to relax for a while now. Mrs. O'Leary has prepared us a wonderful supper, one I think you'll enjoy a bit more than last night's. A roast, with pudding and gravy. And I asked her to make some potatoes especially for you, Bobby, lots of them, since you seem to have such a fondness for them."
Supper was everything Cromwell had predicted. Both Alex and Bobby were ravenous, and the food was excellent. Alex wasn't sure she'd go for the Yorkshire pudding, but she ended up loving it. Bobby really liked the roast, but his kind side made himfeel somewhat obligated to eat the potatoes, and he concentrated on those. After their excellent dinner they again retreated to the great room where they discussed the case some,and they all got to know each other a little better. Finally,Cromwell announced bedtime for himself.
"Goodnight, Bobby. Goodnight, Alex. For what it's worth, I'm very glad you're on the case."
After Cromwell left, Bobby clutched his stomach."Dammit, I need an antacid…bad."
"Well I guess! After all those potatoes…"
"Wonder what they use for antacids here? Think I'll track down Mrs. O'Leary."
Bobby wandered into the kitchen, looking for the housekeeper. "Mrs. O'Leary?" No answer. "Mrs. O'Leary?" he asked again, looking around. Something caught his eye through the window. Going to that window Bobby peered out into the darkness, only to be met by a loud blast and a sharp pain in his arm. Instantaneously he grabbed his own gun, and ran to the door and outside, where another bullet zinged past him. Bobby took cover behind a column, crouching down on the porch as his sharp eyes pierced the darkness. But he saw nothing. A second later he was joined by Alex.
"Bobby! Are you—"
"Get down!" Bobby growled, pulling her down behind him. Everything was deathly quiet now, and Bobby slowly got up from his crouching position to look around.
"Bobby!" Alex hissed, afraid for Bobby as he went out into the darkness.
A minute later Cromwell, followed by Mrs. O'Leary, started out, but Alex stopped them. "Stay there!" she told them. "Bobby's checking things out, I'm going to help him." And she followed after him, as Cromwell ushered the housekeeper back inside.
Moments later Bobby and Alex returned.
"Well, whoever it was he's gone now," Bobby said angrily.
"Bobby," Alex said, looking at his arm, "you're hurt."
Seeing the blood on his once-white shirt, Mrs. O'Leary let out a little shriek.
"I'm okay," Bobby said, gingerly holding his arm as his shirtsleeve turned crimson."I don't think it's bad. I'll be alright."
Cromwell was unconvinced, and insisted on summoning a doctor.
About forty minutes later, as Alex and Mrs. O'Leary did what they could for Bobby's arm, a doctor finally arrived. "'Bout time," Alex grumbled.
The bullet had lodged itself pretty well into Bobby's arm, and it was with some difficulty that the doctor removed it. Bobby was not feeling well; he had lost a fair amount of blood, and the doctor (whom Bobby suspected was drunk)had a hard time finding the actual bullet. He ended updigging around in Bobby's arm, and after a good ten minutes of digging finally retrieved the bullet, leaving Bobby literally drained. He finally stitched and bandaged Bobby's arm, and insisted he go to bed.
As Alex, Cromwell and Mrs. O'Leary secured the house, Cromwell was worried. "This is not good," he said, over and over. "Someone is after Bobby, maybe the Ripper himself. And you, Alex, you could be in danger, too. This certainly is not good." He double-checked the locks on every entrance, door and window, then got the local constable to assign a policeman to help watch the house for the night.
Bobby, lying in bed, had some of the same thoughts. There was no doubt, someone was out to get them. And there wereas many as forty-some suspects. He was worried, for himself, but mostly for Alex. Bobby would never forgive himself if anything ever happened to her. Eventually, his arm aching relentlessly, he fell into a very troubled sleep.
TBC