"Robbie!" she shouted, spotting him a flight above her on the concrete staircase, his face suddenly appearing over the curved metal handrail and smiling down on her as he realised who was calling him. As she caught up to him, she handed over a thin manilla case file. "The bruising's a match," she said, "And what's more we found Kevin's DNA on the shoe itself."
He grinned, "Thanks Laura, that's good news," feeling a wave of relief. "He's not confessed yet but this should force his hand. And if not his then his lawyers at least."
They stood awkwardly, the work part of the conversation clearly concluded but neither quite ready to depart. They stepped aside to let a uniformed officer pass them, watching as he descended to the floor below and hauled open the heavy fire door to access the offices.
"You never said why you were on your way to see me this morning,'' she enquired at last.
"Eh?" he replied, frowning as he thought about what she might be referring to. "Oh, that. Nothing much."
She looked at him, not believing him for one moment as his face flushed and he appeared reluctant to continue. "Nothing enough to tell me what it was?" she probed, and when he still didn't speak she said, making to leave, "Ok, well in that case, I'll - "
"He's been watching us," he blurted out, cutting her off, "The suspect," as he shook the file to indicate who he meant.
He caught the look of sheer panic as it rose in her eyes and moved to catch her as reeled backwards, fearful she'd lose her balance on the steps, but before he could she grasped the bannister to steady herself. Her face silently pleading for more, he hastily started explaining.
"It's ok, Laura, honestly," he finished up, "He's under arrest now and we're getting ready to charge him, but I just wanted to warn you."
She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves at this revelation, pushing away a flashback of another time when her life had been threatened. The nightmares from that time had long since passed, hours of counselling and many long walks, sometimes with friends, sometimes alone, had all helped her to process the events of that night. But it hadn't completely gone away, the fear, and she supposed it never would.
"Warn me officially? That I was in danger?" she asked nervously, trying to judge how seriously to take the situation, not wanting to overreact.
"No, not officially. He was playing a game with me," his tone casual but sincere. He'd worried her, he could see that, and now he just wanted to reassure. "I just wanted to warn you," pausing before adding, "And you were never in danger, Laura. I'd never let that happen."
She stared at him, the warmth in his eyes having a calming effect and felt her heart rate returning to normal. There was no way anyone could hurt her if Robbie had anything to do with it. He'd said that before and she'd believed him, still did. They stood captured into one another's gaze, unable to move.
"You wanted to warn me as a friend," she repeated, her voice soft, almost questioning. He gave the slightest nod to confirm it at which she shifted her eyes to the floor briefly, took a quiet breath in before looking back up at him.
"Well, that's sweet of you to worry, Robbie," managing a weak smile, an attempt to mask an odd sense of disappointment, "But as you say, thanks to the DNA he'll be behind bars for the foreseeable future so I'm sure I'll be fine."
She almost reached out to touch his arm but thought better of it. It was her who needed physical reassurance, not him, realising in that moment that if she wasn't going to get it then she needed to be away from him. "I'd better run. Let me know if you need anything else on this, won't you?" she said, referencing the folder in his hands and turned and headed back down the stairs.
As he watched her leave, he sensed that yet again he'd got this wrong or, at the very least, not quite right.
"So, every few weeks Kevin would meet up with Moore and collect the insulin, the accountancy firm the middle man for both the drugs and the money. Easy for a clever accountant to hide, I expect," Robbie concluded. "But the stress of it was getting too much, starting to affect his marriage no doubt, and he'd threatened to quit."
Innocent nodded thoughtfully. She'd invited them in to toast their success and the team was now seated around the low coffee table, some on the sofas, others on office chairs that had been dragged in to accommodate them all. "Well, cheers. Well done. An odd one in the end but closed nevertheless which is all that matters."
They raised their drinks, luck determining who had got the glasses and who the chipped mugs from the kitchen, and sipped politely. A collective smile broke out amongst the group, the majority lost as to what to add, so rare was it that Jean broke open her office stash of the single malt which, she'd reminded them, was not strictly procedure.
"Jones," Jean continued, "DS Hathaway here tells me you worked hard on this one, cracked some of the key evidence. Good work." Jones blushed at the compliment and tried to make light of it, failing at hiding his own pride that his efforts had been noted.
"Right, well, I'll not keep you gentleman. I know some of you have plans," her sideways glance in his direction was not lost on Robbie as they left their empty glasses on the table and departed. James bid goodnight to Jones before turning to his boss, both men looking uncomfortable at finally being alone together without the security of the case to act as a barrier.
"Buy you a pint, Sir?" James offered at length.
Robbie chuckled with relief, "Aye Jim, that sounds like a fine idea."
Seated at their favourite table, tucked up against the bridge, overlooking the river and open fields beyond, they simultaneously lifted their glasses and savoured the sweet taste of orange juice, "Ah, nothing like the good stuff," Robbie jested.
He'd opted to play it safe given he'd already had a whisky and had a night of champagne ahead of him. James, as usual, was driving. They sat quietly, hoovering somewhere between a comfortable silence and an uncertainty about what either should say.
"Look James, I crossed a line," Robbie started. "Promotion is your decision and yours alone. And you've gotta be sure. I shouldn't have pressured you like I did."
"I don't know, I think you were probably pretty close to the mark, Sir. I think that I might need a bit of distance, get some perspective on it all. I'm owed some leave, maybe a week off wouldn't be the worst thing at this juncture." James reached for his glass and closed his eyes briefly as he drank. "Besides, if anyone crossed a line it was me. Your relationship with Dr. Hobson isn't any of my business. I apologise."
Robbie looked at him and nodded, "No need, lad. I know you meant well." He leant back in his seat and sighed, "I just wish sometimes that it was all as easy as you make it out to be."
"It could be, if you let it," James ventured, but not wishing to go any further.
Robbie nodded, a long far away look in his eye as he replied, "Aye, perhaps."
