A Leap in Time Chapter 10

After exiting and locking the jailhouse, Harris turned, startled, to see Willie in the station.

"What are you doing here?" Harris demanded.

"I…um, I'm starting my shift," Willie stammered. He found himself staring at the blood on Harris's pants.

"You got a problem, kid?" Harris said threateningly.

Willie hated when he called him "kid." "N..no," Willie said, tearing his eyes away from the pants. "I'm just surprised to see you, didn't uh…think we had any prisoners right now…"

"We don't," Harris told him. Grabbing the front of Willie's shirt he told him "just stay out of my business." He let go of Willie's shirt unexpectantly, sending Willie stumbling backwards. Harris looked at him disgustedly; this wimp would never be a man. Technically Willie outranked him, but he was still afraid of him. Harris was a big man, surly and mean, who drank like a fish. Most people were intimidated by him, which was the way Harris liked it, and planned to keep it that way. It made him feel powerful. And nothing made him feel more powerful than to take a defenseless prisoner, cuff him and beat the crap out of him. Just thinking about it gave him a little thrill. He hadn't even left yet and already he couldn't wait to get back to Bobby. But he still had time. He locked the door to the jailhouse, and left for the tavern.

Willie busied himself around the station, doing the little odd jobs he did while on his shift. But his mind kept going back to the blood on Harris's pants. He knew Harris often roughed up the prisoners, despite the rules against it (which, since Cromwell had retired, had never really been enforced). But there were no prisoners now. They'd all been sent off to the various prisons and workhouses…so how? Oh, well, he'd mention it to Hammond next time he saw him.

"Something's wrong," Alex said, watching out the window as the gloomy day was drawing to an end and evening was approaching. "Shouldn't he be back by now?"

"There could be any number of reasons why he's not back yet," Cromwell told her. But the fact was, he was concerned, too. He's originally thought that Bobby had over-estimated his time, no doubt on purpose so his partner wouldn't worry. And at first he's thought everything would be fine. But he really should have been back, a long time ago.

"Have you changed your mind about waiting to out tonight?" Cromwell asked.

"No," Alex answered. "Why should I?"

"Well, I just thought with Bobby still not here—"

"I can do this without Bobby!" Alex was starting to get upset. "He knew about this! And he knows where to find me, and when. I AM doing this, with or without Bobby!"

"But—"

"Besides, " Alex said, softer, "Bobby will be there. I don't know where he is right now, but he'll be there. I know him. He'll be there."

Cromwell sighed. He'd sighed more in these last two weeks than in his entire life. He went back to staring at his newspaper, and wondering about

Robert Goren.

Willie was waiting for Hammond to show up. He hadn't been here all day. He tried to remember, did he say he wouldn't be here today? Strange.

He wanted to go into the jailhouse, but was afraid of Harris showing back up, no doubt drunk again, and meaner than ever. He didn't want to be in there when that happened. Besides, he didn't have any idea where Harris hid the extra keys…if there were extra keys. Willie tried to keep himself busy, doing all the little chores that needed to be done. Then he remembered a report he was supposed to write up. Thank God he'd thought of it before Hammond did show up.

Willie went to Hammond's desk and sat down, looking for some writing equipment. Finding none on the desk, he began looking through the drawers, and came upon Bobby's journal. Now why would Detective Goren's book be in Hammond's desk? He thought idly. Picking up the journal, he glanced through it. He had really taken a liking to Goren and more so after reading some of Bobby's notes. Then he got to the part about Hammond. He stared at the book in disbelief, then hurriedly put the book back in the desk, and pushed the chair back, scraping it loudly across the floor. Willie practically jumped up, hands in hair, and paced nervously. What the hell was going on? After a moment or so, something clicked, and he went to the door of the jailhouse. He turned the knob; no surprise, it was locked; jiggling the handle didn't help.

"Detective Goren!" he yelled. No response. Louder, "Detective Goren!" Even if there had been no gag in Bobby's mouth he couldn't have responded. He was barely conscious. One last try, "GOREN!"

Willie was starting to panic. What if Detective Goren was back there, hurt or even dead? What if Hammond showed up now? What if Harris showed up? What should he do?

Going to the front of the station, he opened the door and looked down the street. No Hammond, thank God, and no Harris. There was a beat cop a ways down and he called him over. When the beat cop arrived, Willie told him, "I need you to get Inspector Cromwell right away!"

When the beat cop just stood there, Willie urged him, "Quickly!"

Still the old cop stared at him. He didn't like taking orders from this young whelp. "You know the Inspector's retired, don't you? Don't think you should go about bothering—"

"GET HIM NOW!" Willie said, with more authority than he'd ever shown since coming here. The older cop blinked, surprised. "If you think—What I THINK," Willie told him evenly, "is that you either get Cromwell now, or you lose your job and you and your family end up in a workhouse paying off your debts!"

Even more surprised, the cop responded, "Yes sir!"

"And make it quickly. Tell him it's an emergency!"

Some time later there was a short rapping on Cromwell's door. Cromwell himself answered the door, to find the older beat cop from the station. After hearing the cop's story, he called up to Alex.

"Alex! Can you come down here for a minute?"

A few minutes later, Alex emerged.

"Alex, I have to leave for a little while. Don't expect to be gone too long…"

Now Alex sighed. Was this another ploy to keep her from going tonight? If so, it wasn't going to work. "If you think this is going to keep me here tonight…"

"Alex, it is not a trick. I really do have to go to the station, there's a problem."

"Okay," Alex said. "If you're not here in two hours, I'll be gone, by myself or not."

Going out the door, Cromwell thought, she sure is a feisty little thing. Then he thought of Bobby, and smiled. They really did make a good team.

The ride into Whitechapel was hurried, but uneventful. He couldn't imagine why young Willie would need him. He was retired, and there was any number of people he could ask for assistance. But he'd have to wait till he got there.

Thomas Harris had consumed more than his share of bourbon, and he was feeling it. He felt mean, and had to take it out on something, and the chairs in the bar just weren't getting it. He needed something more. Then his thoughts turned to his prisoner, and he decided he didn't want to wait, didn't want to make it last longer, he just wanted to beat the shit out of his prisoner some more. It was getting close to the time to kill that bastard anyway. He had never killed anyone before, and the thought of it was getting him excited. He decided he'd have a little more fun, really teach this guy a lesson, and then kill him. Harris returned to the station, drunk, reeling on his feet, only to come face to face with Willie.

Willie was scared to death. He could see that Harris was way out of control. Harris ignored him, and started for the jailhouse. He looked at his prisoner, and smiled. He knelt next to him, cutting the ropes that held him in position, but the handcuffs and shackles remained in place. "This is your lucky day," he told him. "It's almost over."

Harris grabbed a handful of Bobby's hair and suddenly shoved his head forward, simultaneously jamming his knee up into Bobby's face, smashing it again. Bobby's limbs were so numb he couldn't support himself, and it didn't take much more than a touch from Harris to send him first-face to the floor.

As Harris was about to send a kick to Bobby's ribs the sight of Willie, gun in hand, stopped him.

"Touch him again and I'll shoot you," Willie said firmly.

Harris laughed. "You ain't got the guts!" and delivered a vicious kick, rolling Bobby onto his back.

Suddenly a shot rang out, and Harris screamed, clutching his shoulder.

"Now get away from him," Willie ordered.

Harris backed away, staring unbelievably at Willie. Then his glance shifted behind Willie, where Cromwell had appeared.

"He…he shot me!" Harris declared, looking for a way out.

"That he did!" Cromwell agreed. "And if he hadn't, I would have. Willie, put him under arrest for assault with intent to kill." Cromwell also had a gun leveled at Harris.

"Yes, Sir!" Willie took great pleasure in putting the cuffs on Harris. After making sure Harris was secured, they anxiously turned their attention to Bobby.

They quickly and gently lifted his head, untying the gag, and removing the filthy cloth they had jammed in his mouth. Bobby tried to speak, but nothing would come out.

"Water," Cromwell told Willie. "Get him some water, quickly."

Willie ran to get some water as Cromwell checked out the wound on Bobby's head from the billy club. He frowned. As Willie put the cup to Bobby's lips, Bobby, parched from over twenty-four hours in a gag, tried to drink it all. Cromwell pushed Willie's hand away.

"Easy, Bobby. Take it slowly—"

"No!" Bobby rasped, shaking his head as animatedly as he could. Finally he got out what he was trying to say. "Alex!" he gasped.

tbc