Chapter 3

"Gone"

"So, basically, that's bedrest, frequent fresh air and exercise, and a new diet. If you stick to that, there shouldn't be a lot of trouble, if there is any. Have you got all of that, Mr Brightmore?"

"Yes, Doctor, I believe so."

Niles said that as quickly as he could without looking like he was trying to rush off. Not that he was probably succeeding - he was certain that he looked as agitated as he felt. He also got the feeling that it was starting to have an effect on the other patients in the waiting room-slash reception area, making them a lot more nervous to go in than he truly was to come out.

Of course, he had a reason to be agitated. Not that any of them knew that, and not that the doctor would consider it more important currently than what he was telling the butler.

Well, that did make some sense, in truth. He'd obviously be more concerned about giving instructions to a man who was leaving hospital after a heart attack than what said man was intending to do once he'd left said hospital.

"Of course, you're going to be on medication for a little while as well," he added, delving into his pocket and retrieving a small bottle of pills, which he tapped with one finger.

Niles tried hard not to sigh at the sight of it. He still couldn't believe that it had ended up this way!

He didn't remember the actual event very well yet - there were...significant gaps in the memory, from zinging Miss Babcock and not quite hearing her probably-burning reply, to feeling a pain in his chest and waking up in hospital to the sound of Miss Fine finally having the kind of alone time with Mr Sheffield that could actually be considered game-changing.

Actually, "alone time" might have been something of a stretch, considering they were only behind a privacy curtain, but still, it was a step in the right direction.

He felt a pang of guilt shoot through him, thinking about how that meant at least two people in the house were heading in the right direction, relationship-wise...

The doctor was still talking, though, and Niles supposed he should be listening. He only had to be there a little while longer, after all.

"Remember to take them regularly," the doctor said, handing the pills over. "If everything is going well after you've used up this bottle, you won't need to be put on a prescription for them."

Niles was certainly hopeful that he wouldn't need to take any more than the doctor had given him. He didn't want any more trouble, and he wasn't expecting any. Not from his heart, anyway.

Not physically.

He took the bottle, pocketed it and thanked the man. After that, he tried to leave, but of course he had to wait to sign the release forms, and schedule an appointment to see the doctor next week.

It felt like an eternity before he was finally allowed to "get in a taxi and go home to start healing".

That was what they all believed - all the nurses and doctors who'd assisted in his recovery. Everybody who'd helped him and only wanted the best for him, now that he was on the road to full health.

But the minute the cab driver asked him where he wanted to go, he immediately gave him the order to head to Park Avenue.

As the city rolled past the window, he watched for the building that he wanted to get to. Needed to get to, he told himself (if nobody else).

He hadn't been able to think of going anywhere else for...well, the entire awful, wretched week.

He thought it hadn't been able to get any worse when he had played that prank on Miss Babcock, showing her exactly what was going on between Miss Fine and Mr Sheffield by getting her to pull back that privacy curtain, and smashing any lingering dreams she had into pieces and forcing her to look somewhere else.

He hadn't expected him to come and visit him after that. Why would she? He'd gone too far that time, even for him! He regretted beyond words the fact that he'd made her leave, so humiliated and upset, and probably angry too...!

But when he'd (casually) slipped the fact that she hadn't been around again into the conversation when his employer had come to see him some days later (by way of suggesting that someone should check on the other producer, in case the lock on her cage had gotten stuck), Maxwell had only been able to frown in thought and concern.

"I'm not sure what to do about C.C., Old Man - she hasn't been into work for days. She hasn't answered any of my calls, either. You...you don't think she's upset, by what she saw here?"

Niles was more convinced that his part in the prank, not Maxwell's, had been the straw that had broken the camel's back. Caused her to go off by herself, and not let anybody know where she was going, or if she was alright...

She'd been nothing but kind to him in those few moments, and he'd destroyed it all in seconds.

The idea that she hadn't been into work, or told Maxwell she was going to be away, lingered in his mind, and festered into a concern that he couldn't shake, until there was no greater thought in his mind and he had to rush out of the cab, barely remembering to pay before he started to make his way to Miss Babcock's building.

He was determined to go see if she was alright, and if she was, to see what could be done to get her to return to the company. He'd build himself up for the biggest, most prostrating and heart-felt apology, and hope that it was enough.

He didn't know if it would be, but he could hope.

Niles gave Miss Babcock's doorman a courteous nod as he walked into the building, and made a beeline for the elevator. He insistently pressed on the call button, even if he knew doing so wouldn't make the thing move faster. It was mainly a way to channel his own growing anxiety, and have something to do with his hands apart from chewing on his nails.

He repeated this pattern when he eventually stepped into the elevator, only this time it was Miss Babcock's floor button that he obsessively pushed.

His eyes were glued to the overhead car position indicator as they moved up, all the way to the 19th floor. It almost felt like it had taken him an age, but eventually the elevator stopped, the doors opened and Niles was able to dash out of it and towards Miss Babcock's apartment.

He couldn't help but think just how many times he'd been there before – to hand her a contract, to pick her up, to deliver a package or envelope Mr Sheffield needed her to see…

He'd never thought he'd one day come to apologise.

It wasn't like them, apologising – theirs was an ongoing feud that overlooked pleasantries and was happy to sidestep any need for an apology. They gave as good as the got, and whenever tactical retreat was needed, it was done in silence. They didn't hold their losses over each other's head – there was no fun in that. It was better to rub the victories in, and gear up for the next showdown.

But, perhaps, this time he'd overstepped a line.

There was a sort of tacit understanding that, in certain situations, there had to be a ceasefire. Usually they involved either grievous bodily injuries (and he supposed a heart attack counted as one) or the death of a loved one (such as when Sarah Sheffield had passed). They had no qualms about drawing the battle lines, but he was aware there were situations that simply called for them to put a brief halt to their game.

He'd overlooked that, and was tremendously sorry for it.

He'd gone too far, even for him.

All the previous momentum that had pushed the butler to her door seemed to wash away the moment he actually had to ring the bell – his hand hovered over the button, twitching and hesitant.

And waited.

And waited some more.

And the only thing he heard on the other side of the door was Chester yapping away – yapping like he needed the person on the other side of the door to get inside, right that instant.

Just how angry had Miss Babcock been?

Certainly angry enough to not be replying to him at that moment.

Maybe she might change her mind if she really got the gist of how sincere he was...?

He left the doorbell alone and started knocking on the door instead.

"Miss Babcock? Miss Babcock, it's me, Niles!" he called out. "Listen, I...um...I'm sorry...so very sorry, about what happened in the hospital! I didn't mean to embarrass you so much - I know I went too far. May I come in? I...I really think that we should talk about this..."

He'd never said that before, either. It was almost an unestablished rule that they didn't talk.

But it didn't seem to matter that he'd said it - there was no reply, even to shout out about how unlike him that offer was.

He knew it. She obviously didn't want to talk to him. And perhaps he had to just accept that fact.

He took a step away, letting his eyes fall to the floor as his foot smacked into a...a newspaper. Several newspapers, still folded and stacked in a pile, as if they'd been freshly delivered.

Narrowing his eyes, he crouched down and peered at the dates on each of them.

They were all the newspapers from the last week. That was...odd. Why hadn't she brought her newspapers in? Surely it made sense to do so, even if she was upset!

Unless...unless something else was going on. Unless she was more than just upset in there...

Feeling his chest starting to tighten, and after one final just-in-case ring of the bell, he reached under the welcome mat for the spare key to the front door and went to let himself inside.

He shouted out loud to warn that it was only him as he did, "Miss Babcock, I'm coming in!"

He opened the door and was immediately greeted by a thankful and whimpering Chester, as well as the stench of pet urine and faeces. The power of it nearly made him gag, but he couldn't leave the door open in case the dog got out.

Instead, he crossed to the living room, neatly dodging and tiptoeing around piles of things that he absolutely did not want to step in or on, in order to open the windows.

Only then did he stop and take a proper look around the living area.

The filthy living area, apparently in large part thanks to the dog - on top of general clearly human-made mess, there were stains everywhere, from where he'd...been!

All of it needed cleaning up right away, which was a bizarre thing to have to think - he could've sworn that Miss Babcock had a maid that she hired over the phone, whenever she needed someone to come in and clean? Had she not been able to get in contact with her for some reason?

It still wouldn't make sense, though - Chester might've had an automatic food dispenser, but the producer still had to walk him. If she was around to do that, then he wouldn't have had to go all over the penthouse floor...

There wouldn't be dust everywhere, either. The kitchen wouldn't have unwashed dishes in the sink when he looked, and there wouldn't be half-washed laundry growing sort-of-musty in the washing machine...

This was getting weirder by the minute, and the clenching feeling in Niles' chest had branched out into his stomach.

"Miss Babcock...?" he tried calling out again.

She had to reply that time, didn't she? If she was in, she had to come out and demand that he get the hell out of her penthouse!

But she didn't.

Was...was it possible that she'd gone away somewhere? Left the dog for somebody else to find, and just taken off? If she was in a truly horrible mood, he could imagine her doing that to escape and bring back her peace of mind.

There was only one way to find out if she had done that - gone to some exotic getaway for a while - and he knew where to go to check up on it!

He went to the desk in her home office, and he pulled through legal documents and licenses until he found what he was looking for.

Looking for, but not hoping for.

His heart sank when he found her passport. If that had been missing, at least there was a chance that she'd simply gone abroad...

She wasn't there. The house had clearly been empty for days. Something bad had obviously happened, and no one had been able to stop it.

And Niles was starting to feel like he couldn't breathe.

Miss Babcock was gone, and he had no idea what had happened or where she could possibly be!

The sheer panic and complete terror of it all was killing him, and he couldn't be sure if it actually would happen or not.

That only made him more afraid. His chest had hurt like this before. He'd been short of breath like this before, too.

The only thing that was left was the actual passing out. Niles honestly wasn't sure what would happen to him after that.

Not that he cared about it, either. Not when Miss Babcock had to be out there, somewhere! Someone had to know where she was!

Someone would've seen something...where she went and why!

He decided to start with his best bets – her family, friends, and work connections. It was just lucky that she kept a copy of her address book in the top drawer of her desk.

He phoned everybody C.C. knew. If a name was in the book, from "Ashton, M." and "Jones, T.", all the way through to "Zimmerman, C.", he called. He asked if they'd seen her. Told them to keep an eye out when the answer came back negative, and to call him on this number...

He repeated that pattern until he'd made his way through the whole book, his despair growing with each page that he had to discount.

Perhaps it would all be a big mistake. Perhaps she was safe and sound, tucked out of sight to things she didn't want to see...

He had to find out, though. The not knowing was weighing on him like a ton of bricks, and someone added to the pile with every piece of new information, and the more time went along, the more he was convinced that she wasn't alright...

It killed him all over again to realise that there was no longer an entire address book to go through, keeping him from calling Miss Babcock's family.

And he wasn't even lifted at all by the sound of the familiar, friendly voice that greeted him when he'd eventually plucked up the courage to phone the first one - her father.

"Hello?" came Stewart's still-happy, uninformed voice.

Niles had to prepare himself before he said anything. He didn't want to be giving the man this news, but what other choice did he have?

"Hello, sir, it's Niles, the Sheffield's butler?" he said in reply. His grip on the phone was too tight, but he couldn't let go.

"Niles! It's wonderful to hear from you," the older man sounded like he was smiling. He wasn't going to be, soon enough. "Is something wrong? How can I help?"

Niles felt his insides clench – of course there was something wrong. Incredibly wrong, at that. But then again, how was he supposed to tell this man that his treasured daughter (because he was well aware C.C. was Stewart's favourite child) was nowhere to be found?

He didn't have a clue…

He supposed he had to simply gather his courage and go through with it – say the truth, no matter how horrible, as it was.

"I… I am afraid that I have some bad news, sir," Niles stuttered, running his free hand through his hair, "And I believe you need to sit down before hearing them."
There was a brief pause at the other end of the line then – a horrible, ominous silence, which was soon broken by Stewart clearing his suddenly dry throat.

"Bad news? Is… is C.C. alright?" asked the old man, a certain degree of urgency to his voice.

There it was, Niles thought, the dreaded (although completely understandable and expected) question. He had no way to soften the blow – no way to spare Stewart from the worry and fear he'd soon be experiencing. But every second he withheld the truth, was a second wasted.

He had to speak.

"No, sir, she isn't," he eventually confessed, "She… she's missing."

In the silence that followed, Niles' brain conjured its own twisted mental images - all of how Stewart could possibly be reacting.

He could be about to raise his voice. To demand to know everything and vowing to come tear the world apart for his missing little girl.

He could be about to break down in tears, maybe falling to his knees and perhaps trying to deny that it was his little girl who'd gone. All the while he'd know that it was the truth, however.

His mind hadn't fully expected and prepared for the answer that Stewart eventually gave.

"Did you call everybody?" he asked, his voice rapidly growing stern and serious. "All her friends? The people she works with at the theatres? Are the police involved yet?"

Niles wondered if perhaps they should be, by this stage, and he cringed to himself for not even thinking about it before calling everyone else.

"I can answer 'yes' to all but the last one, sir..."

He expected the growing anger that followed his statement. He knew he hadn't done enough, and Stewart's ire was deserved.

"Why not?! How long has she been missing?!"

Niles couldn't have felt any smaller when he finally managed to choke out the answer.

"A week, sir..."

The Stewart that followed on the phone was not the Stewart Niles had met.

"What?!" the older man shouted, rage and terror combining into one and launching themselves into an attack at the butler. "Why the hell not?! What've you been doing for all of that time?!"

It took Niles all of his willpower not to shout back. He deserved the anger, for not doing enough by suggesting someone come to check on her beforehand - not properly, anyway. He should have just been a man and owned up to some of his feelings - said he was worried, and asked somebody to please go and check on her...

He could have done something about it. But he hadn't.

It was his fault that things were this bad in the first place, and he hadn't even been able to make amends.

Instead, it looked like he'd made it all worse.

"I'm sorry, sir," Niles knew he probably wasn't forgiven but he had to apologise anyway. "I've been in the hospital, but I could have easily-"

"Wait a minute. Hospital?" Stewart's one word question wasn't as loud as his shouts had been. The tone had also softened - perhaps out of surprise and concern. "You've been in the hospital?"

Niles sighed, "Yes, sir...I...I had a heart attack just before your daughter disappeared."

Not that she would've disappeared, if he'd just accepted the truce he should've recognised and the kindness that he threw away...

He really was a bastard of a man, wasn't he? She'd saved his life and he'd repaid he with possibly the lowest blow he'd ever delivered. He'd upset her and caused her to run out of the room, towards danger and away from her loved ones.

It was his fault.

Everything was his fault…

"Oh, I… I am sorry to her so, Niles," said Stewart, bringing Niles out of her self-deprecating thoughts. "And… and I apologise for my… outburst–"

"No, sir, please don't" Niles interrupted Stewart; God know he wasn't worthy of any kind of apology from the Babcocks when he was the one to blame for their child's disappearance. "There is nothing to be sorry about. I should have asked someone to check on her sooner, and raised the alarm by reporting her missing, something I plan on doing now, sir."

"Hm. Well, even still, I shouldn't have been as harsh as I was," Stewart said. "And good - report her right away. We don't have any time to lose."

Niles was more concerned about the time they'd already lost - the time he'd cost them - but he wasn't going to waste any more by arguing.

Stewart was Miss Babcock's father. It was only right that he took the lead in how things were done.

"Yes, sir," he nodded automatically.

"Call me back once you've done that," the older man then added. "Tell me everything that goes on and what the police say. There's gonna need to be constant communication between us and them. I will be flying in within the next few hours, and we can all meet and...and well, get a sense of what we have to do next."

Niles agreed with the plan, and figuring that there was nothing else to be said but an awful lot to be done, they said their goodbyes and went about their tasks.

Niles hated to leave Miss Babcock's apartment looking such a state, but there were more important things than cleaning to be done. If he had time, he said to himself that he'd return to do it later. Chester could come with him and stay at the mansion for the time being, but he'd have to wait in the car whilst Niles was in the police station.

He grabbed the little dog, securing him to his leash and heading out of the apartment. He took the spare key with him, not trusting leaving it - besides, the police might need access as well.

All the mention of the police kept making his head swim, but he had to focus.

The road ahead was going to be long and difficult, and it was only just beginning.

But it would be more than worth it, if it meant bringing Miss Babcock home.